Backstage Pass

Chapter 3

Brian bent to retrieve his pants—giving Myrna a spectacular view of his perfect, bare ass—and fished a condom out of his pocket. Her breath caught. He tore the package open with his teeth and unrolled the condom over his c**k. Such a shame to cover its perfection from her view, but it meant…

He climbed back onto the bed and settled his narrow hips between her thighs.

“You want me?” she whispered around the knot in her throat.

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” He brushed her hair from her damp cheeks and kissed her tenderly. His lips tasted and smelled like her. So intimate. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “I think the question is do you still want me, or did I overdo it a little?”

“I still want you. So much,” she whispered. “I’m not sure I can move though.”

He grinned crookedly. “I’ll do all the moving at first.”

He rocked his hips forward, probing for her opening without using his hands for guidance. When he found her, he slid into her slowly, holding her shoulders as he burrowed deeper and deeper.

“Mmmmm,” he murmured and buried his face in her neck. “Certified Grade A.”

Her brow creased. “What?”

“Nothing.”

His strokes were slow and deep. Slow and deep. Slow and deep. Stretching her wide, withdrawing. He more than filled her. She’d never been with a man as well-endowed as he was. Perhaps it was his size that thrilled her. Nope, definitely the way he used it. She groaned—her excitement building again. His quiet gasps in her ear sent her lust spiraling out of control. Her hands moved to his ass, digging into his flesh as she bucked her hips against him. His gasps grew shaky and punctuated. His strokes faster and harder. And harder. And harder. Harder. God yes, harder. Make me feel you, Brian. Drive everything away but you.

Myrna’s head banged into the headboard. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, rubbing her head with the palm of his hand. “Too hard?”

She shook her head vigorously. “I like it.”

He dragged her sideways across the bed, turning her partially on her side, so that he straddled one of her legs. He wrapped her other leg around his waist.

“Oh,” she gasped at the change in stimulation. She liked that, too.

He thrust into her, biting his lip as he pounded against her. Soon his hard thrusts pushed her beyond the edge of the bed. She caught herself with her hand to keep from tumbling to the floor.

“Damn it,” he growled, and pulled her back up onto the bed. “I can’t seem to get deep enough. I want… I need…” He gasped and ground his hips as he pushed into her. His fingers dug into her hips and held her steady, seeking to possess her fully.

“Let me try.” She pushed him onto his back and sighed in frustration when he slid out of her. Emptiness replaced the perfect way he filled her. She hurried to straddle his hips and sank down on his thick c**k, taking him as deep as he would go, stretched to her limits. Her head tilted back in ecstasy.

His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her down, urging her body to take more of him. “Deeper,” he groaned.

She bounced against him, taking him a centimeter at a time until, at last, she had accepted all of him.

“Now you have all of me,” he whispered, looking up at her through heavy eyelids. His fingers traced paths up and down her spine, making her shudder. “Ride me, baby. Show me how you like it.”

He cared how she liked it? She didn’t understand why that turned her on so much, but she rode him. Lifting her hips and grinding downward, gyrating to stimulate her clit against his pubic bone, she used him for her pleasure, ignoring his needs. She just wanted to get off. An orgasm rippled through her. She cried out, but didn’t stop. Again. She wanted to come again with him inside her. She took him faster, rotating slightly with each downward stroke. She wasn’t sure when she’d started chanting his name. “Brian. Brian.” After her second orgasm? “Oh, Brian.” Her third? “God, Brian. Yes.”

His hips rose off the bed to meet her strokes. He bit his lip, his head tossed back. She’d never seen anything sexier in her life. Watching his expression was almost better than the waves of pleasure coursing through her own body.

“Oh f**k, f**k,” he shouted, and grabbed her firmly by the hips to stop her gyrating thrusts. “Stop, stop. Give me a minute.”

She slapped him hard on the chest. “Don’t hold back on me, goddammit. I wanna make you come.”

“No, no. Not yet. Not yet. Damn.” He pulled her off him and tossed her onto her back in the center of the bed. “s**t, s**t, I’m going to lose it.”

Lose what? His erection? Not bloody likely. He was as hard as granite.

He rolled on top of her and slid inside her again. Her eyes drifted closed. Her back arched, rubbing her belly against his. The fingers of his left hand tapped rhythmically against her shoulder. His strokes were different this time, a three-quarter time beat, if she wasn’t mistaken, and he was humming under his breath.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Shh. Shh. I’ve almost got it.”

She watched him for a moment, trying to figure out the sudden change in him. “Are you hearing music in your head?”

“Shh, sweetheart. Please.”

She fell silent. Whatever he was doing was obviously important. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the perfect rhythm of his deep strokes. The riff he hummed in her ear was outstanding. Sensual. Even more sensual than his usual work. She’d never heard anything like it before, and she was a collector of excellent guitar segments.

He paused and looked down at her. “I need something to write on.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Baby, I haven’t written a new riff in months. You are beyond awesome.” He grinned down at her, pumping into her hard and steady. “Making love to this perfect body stimulates more than my cock.”

“Thanks.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I guess.”

He reached for a pen on the side table and uncapped it. He wiped the sweat from her body with the sheet and drew a straight line across her chest. He then added a series of dots on, above, and below the line. Scribbled letters appeared here and there. E. C. C#. She just watched him, too surprised to protest. The line of musical notes continued across her breasts, under her breasts, several lines along her belly.

He paused, his eyes drifting closed. “God, you feel good, Myrna. So good.” She planted her feet on the bed, lifted her hips and gyrated. “Yeah.” He rose up on his knees slightly and thrust forward, grinding deep. “Perfect,” he murmured. “Take me. All of me. Inside.” He began to pump into her again, withdrawing only slightly as if he didn’t want to move at all. “I hear you,” he whispered.

Her brow furrowed. Her panting? Is that what she meant?

He pulled out unexpectedly, leaving her empty. She groaned in protest.

“Turn over,” he demanded breathlessly.

“What?”

“I’m out of space and this solo you’ve inspired…” He shook his ink pen at her.

She laughed. “You’re crazy.”

“All geniuses are.”

She smiled and rolled onto her stomach. She’d thought he’d just start writing on her back, but he eased her onto her knees and slid his c**k inside her again. He thrust into her with the same rhythm as before, drawing notes across the skin of her back while she groaned. This man would be her downfall. She knew it with a certainty. She rocked back against him, loving the way his balls slapped against her with each steady stroke.

“Hold still,” he complained.

“Then stop screwing me so well.”

“I need the rhythm to get the spacing of the notes right. I could call Sticks for a tempo, if you’d like.”

“I prefer this method.” She concentrated on holding still for him so he could write and maintain his rhythm at the same time.

“God, me, too. But I need to come soon. I’m about to explode. Do you have any idea how f*****g amazing you are?”

He scattered line upon line of notes across her back and then tossed the pen across the room. He leaned forward to squeeze her breasts and pinch her n*****s as he deserted his music-writing tempo for quick shallow strokes. His moans grew louder and louder as he gave himself over to pleasure.

With one final deep thrust, he cried out, “Myrna. Oh, God. Oh God, yes.”

She felt him shudder violently behind her and regretted that she couldn’t see his face. He grasped her hips and held her still, grinding deeply until his spasms calmed.

He pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside her, eyes closed, breathing hard. “That was fantastic.” He drew her down beside him and placed a tender kiss on her shoulder. “I’d cuddle with you, but I don’t want to sweat off my riff and solo.”

She laughed. “That must be the first time that excuse has ever been used to avoid after-s*x cuddling.”

He took her face between both hands and kissed her reverently. Never had she been kissed reverently before.

“It’s the truth, though. I’d love to hold you close for hours.”

She smiled. A sweet s*x god. What more could a girl want? He kissed her again.

“Ah Myrna,” he murmured. “I think my muse resides deep, deep inside you.”

“You sure know how to use her in exactly the right way.”

Walking through a hotel in nothing but a bathrobe and panties… Only Brian Sinclair could talk Myrna into doing something that bold. He’d actually tried to convince her to go naked, but she’d reminded him that her stuffed-shirt colleagues would likely be roaming the halls at this hour. She and Brian took the elevator to the top floor. While the car rose, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

“I’m sorry to make you miss your conference.”

“No, you aren’t.” And she wasn’t either.

He grinned deviously. “You’re right. I’m not.”

“At least I don’t have to present a session today. How would I look walking up on stage bowlegged and limping?”

“You’d look sexy,” he said. “Especially since I’d know why you were walking funny.” He tapped her nose with his fingertip.

She tried to ignore the little thrill of happiness that fluttered through her heart. She was glad they’d be saying their good-byes tonight. The last thing she needed in her life was a distraction as monumental as Brian Sinclair. And he had her entirely distracted.

There were only two rooms located on the top floor. Brian fished his keycard out of his wallet and opened the door to one of the suites.

“After you, gorgeous.”

She stepped into the marble entryway of the suite, impressed by its expanse.

“Is that you, Brian?” Trey stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless and in baggy black jeans, drying his hair with a towel. His best feature was undoubtedly his sultry green eyes, and hiding one of them behind long bangs made him sexier for some reason.

“And guest,” Brian said.

Trey tossed the towel aside. “Oh hey, pretty lady.”

“Hi, Trey.” She waved self-consciously.

“I guess he found you last night,” Trey said.

“Barely,” Brian admitted.

“Is that Lucky Von Shithead I hear?” Eric’s voice came from a room off to the right. “Goes out and gets himself some Certified Grade A p***y while leaving us high and…” He paused in the doorway, his eyes racking over Myrna’s disheveled hair, bathrobe, and bare feet. “s**t. Sorry, Myrna. I figured you’d have dumped him by now.”

She flushed. “Not yet.”

“So we have this little bet,” Eric began.

“Shut up, Numbnuts.” Brian turned to Trey. “Did someone bring my guitar upstairs last night?”

“It’s in the dining room.” Trey nodded down the hall.

Brian headed in that direction. Myrna followed him, but Eric darted into her path. She looked up at him. His pale blue eyes seemed to penetrate her robe, skin, flesh, and peer right into her soul. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said. “We need to know who won our bet.”

“I lost,” Trey said. “He found her room.” He stuck a cherry sucker in his mouth and brushed past Eric and Myrna to follow Brian. “Hey, what’s going on? Why do you want your guitar? Did you finally come up with a new riff?”

“When did he pass out last night?” Eric asked Myrna.

“After he swallowed my banana and I forced him to consume my fluids.” She winked at him.

His mouth fell open. “What?”

“Excuse me.” She brushed Eric aside and followed the sound of a guitar being plugged into an amp.

A second guitar hummed with feedback.

“Myrna, hurry,” Brian called.

She entered the dining room and paused. Brian “Master” Sinclair, his signature black and white Schecter guitar slung low. Trey Mills, sucker stick jutting out of his mouth beside him, adjusting one of the leads on his yellow and black guitar. Nice! Brian beckoned Myrna closer by flicking two fingers at her. He shifted her in front of himself and Trey, and then untied the sash of her bathrobe. He tossed the fabric aside, revealing his score, and the vast majority of Myrna’s naked body. Under the robe, she wore only pink bikinis. Heat flooded her face, but she stood still.

“Nice t**s, Myr,” Trey said around his cherry sucker. His gaze moved from her bare breasts to the string of notes written above and below a single line. “There’s no staff, Brian. What in the hell am I looking at?”

Brian pointed to the start of the line, near Myrna’s right shoulder. “Middle C. The first chord.”

Brian showed Trey his fingering and struck the strings with his pick.

Trey moved his hand along his guitar strings, glanced back at the score on Myrna’s skin and nodded. “Okay. I see. Harmony or concert?”

“Let’s try harmony first.”

“Gotcha.” Trey shifted his sucker to the other side of his mouth, and then struck the first chord.

“Grungier,” Brian said.

Trey adjusted a knob on his guitar, tilted his wrist slightly and struck the chord again.

“Yeah, like that.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Myrna’s eyes widened as they played one of the most amazing riffs she’d ever heard. The idea that she had something to do with its creation thrilled her.

Eric entered the dining room. “Sounds great.”

Trey missed a beat and his guitar rang with a discordant note. Brian paused and glanced at him. “Something wrong?”

“I can’t concentrate with those…” He lifted his hands in front of Myrna’s chest and flexed his fingers inches from her breasts. “…in my field of view.”

“Oh, come on, Trey. How many pairs of t**s do you see in an average week?” Brian asked.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve never seen hers.” Trey nodded toward Myrna.

Myrna’s face flamed as she closed the robe over her exposed chest.

“Hey, I didn’t get to see them yet,” Eric complained.

“Go bang on a drum in the other room.” Brian pulled the robe sash free from its loops and handed it to her. “Here. Hold this over your t**s so Trey doesn’t knock his guitar out of tune with his hard on.”

She laughed and glanced sidelong at Trey, her face burning even hotter.

Trey nodded, pulling his sucker out of his mouth with a slurp. “Seriously.”

“All right,” she said.

Brian pulled her robe off her shoulders and she held the sash across her breasts. It covered her n*****s but little else.

“That’s almost worse,” Trey murmured. “Uhn. She’s so goddamned sexy. I just want to lick her all over.” He drew his tongue over his bottom lip, his gaze drifting over her skin.

Myrna’s eyes widened.

“Get your game face on, Trey.” Brian thumped him on the head.

Trey stuck his sucker back in his mouth and nodded. He struck the first chord and Brian joined him. The riff got better as their eyes moved over her chest, under her breasts, along her belly. A few times through the sequence and they could play it without reading the notes. Myrna was so drawn up in the music, she didn’t notice Sed until he sat on the edge of the dining table beside her.

“Are you responsible for that?” he said into her ear.

She gasped and closed her robe. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I thank you for getting Sinclair out of his funk, whatever it was you did.”

The two of them watched Brian and Trey play the riff repeatedly until they’d perfected it. Trey started altering parts slightly to fit his rapidly strumming, shredding style. Brian added more triplets, his fingers flying over the strings. It sounded… perfect and, as always, sensual. The two guitarists, Brian right-handed and Trey left-handed, leaned back-to-back and closed their eyes, letting the music carry them away.

She’d never seen anything sexier in her life. Well, maybe Brian’s face when he made love to her, but he almost had the same expression as he leaned against Trey’s back and fingered his guitar.

Jace entered the room rubbing his face sleepily. “What’s all this racket? It’s ten o’clock in the f*****g morning.”

With a start of surprise, Jace noticed Myrna and his gaze drifted down his naked body. His eyes darted back to her. “Aw, s**t. Excuse me.” He left the room. When he returned a few minutes later in a pair of shorts, he took his bass out of its case and plugged it in to a third amp.

Jace stood in the corner with his eyes closed and soon found a bass groove to compliment the new guitar riff.

“You guys are awesome,” Myrna murmured under her breath.

Brian watched her as he played. He smiled. “It’s all because of you, baby.”

She grinned, her heart fluttering stupidly.

Brian stilled his guitar strings with his hand and reached for Myrna, turning her to face the opposite direction. He tugged her robe down to her waist and brushed her long, auburn hair aside. Myrna glanced over her shoulder at him, clutching the robe to her breasts.

“My solo.”

Trey leaned closer, his brow furrowed. Not even a line for direction here. Just notes and a few letters scrawled here and there. “Well, let’s hear it.”

When Brian began to play, excitement raced down Myrna’s spine.

“Wow,” Sed murmured.

Brian’s fingers flew over the fret board, drawing sounds from his instrument that few guitarists could emulate. He finished the solo with one final, long screech on the whammy bar. The entire band whistled in appreciation. He flipped his guitar over his shoulder so it hung upside down over his back. He spooned up against Myrna and drew her against him.

“Now I’m all horny again,” he murmured into her ear, his hands splayed over her belly. “I’ll never be able to play that solo without getting hard for the feel of you around me.”

“It sounded awesome.”

“Let Trey copy that down before you go bone her again,” Sed said. “We don’t want to lose it.”

Brian dropped a kiss behind her ear and backed away reluctantly.

“Or I could take a picture of it.” Eric fished his camera phone out of his pocket.

“If you do, I’ll break your fingers,” Brian said.

“You’re no fun, Be-rye.”

“You just want jerk-off material.”

Trey located some music score paper and a pencil in a guitar case. He started copying Brian’s guitar solo off Myrna’s back, asking Brian for clarification now and again. Very ticklish, Myrna giggled and squirmed as their fingers trailed over her bare skin.

“What’s this note?” Trey asked.

“I think that’s a mole.” Brian leaned forward and licked a spot in the center of Myrna’s lower back. She shuddered. Brian rubbed the spot with his thumb. “Yeah, it’s a mole. It doesn’t come off.”

“I’m adding it in for the hell of it.” Trey chuckled.

“Myr, your mole is interrupting my solo.”

She snorted. “You guys are too funny.”

“I think it’s a great addition,” Trey said. “You can never have too many high C’s in a solo.”

“I like Hi-C,” Eric quipped. When no one laughed, he murmured, “The orange kind.”

“Turn around so we can get the riff,” Brian said.

Myrna turned. Holding the robe’s sash over her breasts, she watched them transfer the dots scattered across her body to paper.

“Sixteenth notes there,” Brian said, watching over Trey’s shoulder. He pointed to the page.

“Sixteenth? You’re giving me arthritis, man.”

“Don’t be a douche.”

Trey took the sucker out of his mouth and tapped it on Brian’s nose. Myrna stole it from him and stuck it in her mouth. Trey glanced up at her, pinning her with his sexy, green eyes. “That’s my sucker.” That was the look that turned female legs to rubber. Myrna was no exception. She leaned against the table for support.

She pulled his sucker out of her mouth and offered it back to him. “My apologies.”

Trey took it from her and returned it to his mouth, turning his attention to the score sheets. Brian wiped at the sticky spot on his nose with his knuckles. Myrna’s gaze moved to Brian’s soft brown eyes. He was watching her, his lips slightly parted.

She wondered what he was thinking.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Obviously not what she was thinking, but now that he mentioned it, she was hungry. “Yeah.”

“I’m starving. I’m gonna go call room service.” He poked Trey in the arm. “Can you finish this on your own?”

“Yeah, I got it. I played it ten times already.”

Brian kissed Myrna on the temple and lifted his guitar strap over his head. He set the instrument on a stand and left the room. Sed and Eric followed him. Jace still thumbed a quiet bass groove in the corner, switching it out several times as he sought the perfect sound to compliment Brian’s new riff.

When the group was out of earshot, Trey said, “Don’t destroy him, Myrna. Brian falls fast and hard. Chicks can’t handle his intensity and he ends up getting hurt.”

“No worries. We’re just having a good time.”

He took her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “I mean it, Myrna. If you’re not serious about him, you have to get out now.”

“How can I be serious about someone I just met?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Every time.” He opened his eyes and pinned her with a heavy stare. “We told you he was a romantic retard last night. Did you hear any of it?”

She pushed his hand away. “I won’t hurt him, Trey. Okay?”

“I hope you mean that.”

He stared her down until she had to look away. And he thought Brian was intense? Jeez!

“Leave her alone, Trey,” Jace said.

“Am I wrong?” Trey said over his shoulder.

“No, but that’s not her fault.”

Trey looked at her again. He sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“He’s lucky to have someone who cares so much about him.”

Trey c****d an eyebrow at her and laughed. “Yeah, I guess. One or the other of us always has our nose in his business. Just forget I said anything.”

Trey finished scribing the last few lines of music. Myrna closed her robe and tied it with the sash. She sat in one of the dining chairs and listened to Jace play, her foot tapping in time. Trey spread the score sheets across the table and started playing again, pausing every few measures to add a second set of rapid notes above Brian’s sustained notes. Trey’s signature shred complimented Brian’s wail. It’s what made them sound so good when they played together. Moments later Brian returned, picked up his guitar and joined his band mates. The new composition already sounded like a song. It amazed Myrna how quickly each guitarist had adapted a single riff to fit their particular styles and strengths.

Sed entered the room and sat in the center of the dining room table with his eyes closed. Puzzled, Myrna watched him. He seemed to be in some sort of trance.

When the guitarists returned to the beginning of the riff, Sed sang, or more like screamed, “It came to me in a dream.”

“You could call her that,” Brian yelled.

Trey laughed and shoved him.

Was this how they always wrote songs? The privilege of witnessing their process sent shivers of excitement racing down Myrna’s spine.

“Okay, okay,” Sed said. “That sucked even for my first attempt.”

That sucked? It had sounded great to her. Sed’s voice was low, with an edgy rasp that made various parts of her anatomy swell in response.

Sed continued, “Maybe if I bone Myrna, the lyrics will come to me. What did you just call it, Brian? Magically.”

“Shut up,” Brian said, working on a bridge to the solo with Trey now.

“Magically delicious,” Myrna murmured, watching Brian play and wanting his fingers on her body instead of his guitar.

Sed burst out laughing. He fell back on the table, covering his eyes with the palms of his hands as tears of mirth streamed down his cheeks. “I wonder if we can use that in a song without getting sued by a leprechaun.”

“f*****g Myrna,” he sang in his signature growl, “is magically delicious. Wooooaahhhh. Ohh. Ohhh. Yeaaahh eahh eahhh.”

Myrna covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. She slapped Sed on his bare belly. “Don’t sing that.”

He leaned off the edge of the table and grabbed her around the waist, digging his fingers into her ribs. She laughed and wriggled from side to side, trying to throw him off. Brian’s guitar protested loudly as he leaned across the table and grabbed Sed by one leg.