Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6) - Page 63

“Devin!”

The evil man chuckled and then sank his teeth into the top of her breast and sucked hard. Really hard. Hard enough to leave a mark.

“You could do that a few inches down,” she murmured huskily. “You can’t miss the spot. It’s sticking straight out.”

“Lord, woman. You’ve got no patience.”

“Says the man who f**ked me on the bus stairs last night.”

“I don’t remember those noises you were makin’ sounding much like complaints.” His hands squeezed her ass cheeks. “I was insane to have you. In a goddamn fog of lust. Even after five weeks of you bein’ in my bed, this need for you hasn’t cooled.”

“Devin—”

“Let me finish. I saw you waitin’ for me at the edge of the stage and I just . . .” He exhaled across the damp love bites he’d placed on her chest. “I thought I was bein’ all gentlemanly and shit waitin’ until we reached the bus to strip you bare and bend you over.”

Liberty groaned. When it came to sex talk, the man didn’t mince words.

“Pull down the bra cups so I can get at your ni**les,” he rasped against her throat. “I want your pu**y sopping wet when I f**k you.”

She watched the hunger flare his blue eyes to midnight as she lowered her bra straps, when someone started beating on the door.

Devin moved her off his lap and tossed her the baggy T-shirt she’d had on. “Whoever it is better have a damn good reason for interrupting us.”

Yanking the shirt over her head, she appreciated that Devin honored the personal and professional line with something as simple as letting her answer the door. At the bottom of the stair bay, she peered through the blind.

Odette said, “Liberty, I need to talk to Devin. It’s important. Really important.”

She unlocked the door. Odette brushed past her, nearly knocking her over.

“Odette? What’s goin’ on?” Devin asked.

“Tay is sick. Like, really sick. She’s been barfing since last night. Jase and Crash took her to the ER and it’s just extreme morning sickness. They prescribed antinausea meds and she’s resting, but she can’t hardly talk after all that barfing, let alone sing.”

“Fuck.”

“I hate to say this, but the songs she plays keyboards in won’t lose much, but, Dev, she’s your main backup singer. A big chunk of your set is devoted to songs with three- and four-part harmony. We can’t just say we’ll work around it. Some of those songs are the ones fans come to hear. Especially ‘Chains and Trains.’”

“Fuck,” Devin said again. “What are our options?”

“We could initiate an audience sing-along, and people won’t notice the lack of harmony coming from the stage.”

“Which will work for a few of the songs, but not half the damn set.” Devin stood and paced. “Jesus. I hate to say this, but I wish Jesse-Belle was on this leg of the tour right now. Either she or one of her ten backup singers could fill in for a night.”

“I thought of that. Our opening act, Rider Ekman, doesn’t have a woman singer in his band.”

“Can’t you just announce at the start of the show that Tay’s on bed rest and ask female audience members to fill in?” Liberty suggested. “The ladies who come to your concerts know all the words. Even if they screwed up, it’d be entertaining.”

Devin studied her. “Definitely a last resort.” He said, “Hang on,” and disappeared down the hall.

Liberty asked, “How is Tay?”

“Miserable. But Jase is being really sweet to her for a change and they’re happy about the baby, so that’s good.”

Devin returned with his guitar and parked his butt next to Odette. He strummed a few chords of “Baby Loves Me like Mama Does” and then pointed to Liberty with the guitar pick. “Jump in when we get to the chorus.”

Liberty’s mouth fell open, but she couldn’t have spoken to protest if her life depended on it.

Good thing Odette demanded, “Devin, what the hell do you think you’re doing? She’s your girlfriend, not a backup singer.”

He faced his songwriting partner. “Liberty sings.”

“Devin.”

“She sings so damn well that when I first heard her, I thought Tay had broken in to use my shower again.”

Odette aimed her skeptical look at Liberty. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” Devin answered for her. “And she’s been with the tour for months. She knows the set list and all of the songs, don’t you?”

“I guess, but—”

“We’ll go through the song once so you can get a feel for the harmony sections. Then, the second time through, join in at the chorus. Ready?” he said to Odette.

She nodded.

Liberty’s heart jackhammered. Besides her brief karaoke appearance, the only place she ever sang was in her car or in the shower.

Devin did his thing. Cranked out the tune perfectly, like he’d done hundreds of times; no fancy digital sound engineering, no additional instruments, just a man and his guitar. Odette chimed in with the higher harmony. Immediately, the missing harmony she’d heard at least once a night flowed into her head. She hummed along. By the second run-through, she closed her eyes and eased into the chorus, making sure her voice blended with the level of sound they created.

Silence stretched after Devin quit playing.

Tags: Lorelei James Blacktop Cowboys Western
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