Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6)

And roar he did.

Musical notes distorted the air as he f**ked her without pause. His release was so hot she felt it through the latex.

In the aftermath, Devin’s hips kept moving. Swiveling. Driving against her G-spot until she detonated again. As she spiraled down from the place he’d sent her soaring to, she swore he was coming again too.

He nuzzled her ear. “Told you it was a rush.”

“Mmm. So does this make you my groupie now?”

His teeth nipped her neck. “Since I was on my knees in front of you? Yes.” He soothed the love bites with a soft brush of his lips. “You looked f**king hot onstage tonight. But I prefer you like this, half-dressed, my c**k in you and a thoroughly f**ked smile on your face. Because I know no one else will ever see you like this.”

“That was a pretty possessive thing to say.”

“I’m a pretty possessive guy.” His lips skimmed her temple. “Get used to it.”

Chapter Eighteen

Although Liberty had fun singing backup vocals, she was relieved when Tay bounced back from her pregnancy sickness and returned to her job the following night.

They’d hit the grueling part of the tour. The past fourteen days had been brutally exhausting, travel-wise and performance-wise. Two back-to-back cycles of six nights on, one night off. Hour after hour spent on the bus.

For the past three nights, she and Devin had both been too tired to do anything but crawl into bed, curl up together and fall asleep.

Since the venues were small, mostly county fairs, additional security was limited, and Devin didn’t have a separate space to get ready for the show, so he’d resorted to staying on the bus. The problem with that was the zealous fans stood outside the barricade, chanting Devin’s name, serenading him with his own tunes. While he admitted he found it more flattering than annoying, he’d had to resort to noise-canceling headphones to drown them out.

Things had gotten tense the first night when she’d stationed the lone security guard in front of the barricade. As soon as Devin stepped off the bus, the crowd knocked down the wooden barrier and charged him. She fought the urge to pull out her gun and fire warning shots in the air to get them to back the f**k off.

Fortunately, Crash had been nearby, and between him and her, they got Devin inside the back entrance without injury.

Devin had been rattled by the incident, but he pretended to take it in stride. He even pointed out his fans hadn’t acted with malice.

To which Liberty retorted that if his fans had intended to act with malice, they could have gotten to him way too easily and it would’ve been too late to do anything about it at that point.

So they’d reconfigured the position of the buses into a V outside the back entrance, which allowed limited privacy and protection as he got on and off the bus.

She had a hard time believing the gigs where Devin played to a crowd of fifteen hundred were worth it. Not just financially, but the back-to-back shows were physically exhausting for everyone involved with the tour. When she’d mentioned her concerns to Crash, he told her that by headlining the smaller venues, Devin was reaching upward of twenty-five thousand people with his music—no different from if he’d played a large arena during that week. Then he’d gone on to point out the only chance some of these people living in rural areas would have to see Devin McClain live is if he came to them—and that decision had been one hundred percent Devin’s.

Snapped back to the present when the house lights dimmed, Liberty waited by the edge of the stage after the second encore.

After Devin handed off his guitar to Check, he grabbed a towel. Amid congrats from the crew, they returned to the sponsor’s tent, which seemed half a mile away in the middle of a cow pasture. But they were upwind from the Porta-Potties for a change. The rockstar life wasn’t all five-star hotels and gourmet food.

The tent was completely empty, so that was a plus.

Devin mopped his face and neck. His black T-shirt was soaked with sweat. Even his jeans clung to his muscular legs.

She sauntered closer. “Great show.”

He smiled. “Yeah? Best crowd we’ve had in the last week.”

Pressing her body against his, she draped her arms over his shoulders so she could twine her fingers in those tempting ringlet curls.

“Sweetheart, you don’t wanna get that close to me when I’m all sweaty like this.”

“I like you sweaty. Especially when we’re naked.”

He kissed her quickly. “Hold that thought. We’ll take a shower together when we’re back on the bus. Maybe the reporter won’t stick around long if she sees I’m still in stage clothes.”

Liberty retreated. She hoped the interview lasted at least until the parking areas were empty and the crowd had gone home.

Devin sighed. “Remind me again what local paper this is for.”

She looked at him. “Do you even know where we are?”

He shook his head. “It’s all blurred together.”

“We’re in Berle County. Your contact is Daisy Sue Seftner from the Tri-City Register.”

“Thanks.” He flopped in the folding chair, closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “I’m beat. I don’t mean to be a pain in the ass, but it’d be nice to have something better than these hard damn chairs to sit on during the interview.”

“Why don’t you do these interviews in the bus?”

He peered at her from beneath heavy lids. “Because the bus is my private space. I don’t wanna share it with nobody but you.”