Backstage Pass (Sinners on Tour 1)

“Twenty bucks says he passes out before he can get his dick out of his pants,” Sed said.

“I’l take that bet,” Eric said. “There ain’t a man alive who’d pass out before sliding into that Certified Grade A pu**y.”

“He’l get it out of his pants, but he’l pass out before he does anything with it,” Jace said.

“He won’t even find her room.” Trey entered his bet and polished off his beer in three gulps. He stuck the cherry sucker he’d rescued from Brian in his mouth.

Brian shook his head. The company he kept. Sheezus!

He concentrated on walking a straight line to the elevator and, once inside, pushed the button to the sixth floor. He leaned against the wal as the car rose, his stomach settling in his boots. What was her room number again? Six something teen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Fourteen? He should have written it down. His eyes drifted closed as he thought about the feel of Myrna’s breath against his ear. Her soft voice played through his head.

Six fifteen. He remembered now. He knew he wasn’t at his best. Why had she picked him? What could she possibly find attractive about him at the moment? Not that he was complaining. He just didn’t get it. And she’d been sitting next to Sed. The guy drew chicks like moths to a flame. Even unavailable chicks. Like Angie.

That sucking flut.

He needed another beer. Or three. Maybe he could raid Myrna’s mini-bar. Or maybe she could use those pouty lips of hers to wipe the image of Angie sucking Sed’s dick from his memory. Yeah, he liked that plan better. What had Trey cal ed it? Rebound pu**y. Exactly what he needed. He just had to keep his head together and not fal for this one. Once off the elevator, he fol owed a sign to the correct corridor, stopped at the door labeled 615, and knocked.

“Just a second,” Myrna cal ed from inside. A smal victory. Trey lost the bet.

Brian leaned his forearm against the doorframe to keep himself on his feet and rested his forehead against his arm. He real y needed to sleep this off. He hoped she wasn’t hard to satisfy. He wasn’t even sure if he could maintain an erection in his condition. She final y opened the door and smiled when he lifted his head to look at her. She’d removed her suit jacket, revealing a silky, white camisole and al sorts of creamy white flesh begging for his touch. God, she was f**king hot. Score!

“You real y aren’t feeling wel , are you?” she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. He didn’t want to lie, so he said nothing.

She stepped aside. “Come in.”

He pushed off the doorframe and entered her room. She closed the door behind him, and he knew he had to move quickly or Sed would win the bet. Or worse, Jace would win and he’d pass out with his pants around his knees. He turned Myrna to face him and pressed her up against the door with his body. She gasped in surprise just before his mouth claimed hers in a passionate kiss. She wrenched her head to the side, breathing hard. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

“I never kiss on the first date.”

“This is our second date.”

She hesitated, her expression thoughtful. “Good point.”

Her fingers slid up his back and tangled in the longish hair at his nape. She closed her eyes and leaned closer. He rested his forearms on the door on either side of her head and tested her eagerness with a gentle brush of his lips against hers. Though his body told him to devour her, his partial y functioning brain wanted to treasure the feel of her soft lips against his for the first time. His hands curled into tight fists over her head so they wouldn’t rip off her clothes. He watched her through half-closed eyes as his lips caressed hers. She responded with total submission—mouth open, body limp, fingers digging into his scalp as if she were trying to control herself. It drove him crazy. And that wasn’t the only thing driving him crazy. The taste of her mouth, her scent, her warm, soft body against his, the barely perceptible sound of longing she made in the back of her throat. Her tongue brushed his lip. His body tensed as if he’d been struck by lightning. She withdrew her tongue, coaxing his into her mouth with gentle strokes. He eagerly fol owed, caressing her lips with the tip of his tongue, and then touched her tongue with his. When her tongue tentatively caressed his in return, his eyes drifted closed. After several moments, he pul ed away and gazed down at her in the low light coming from the bathroom.

“I didn’t ask you to come to my room for this,” she murmured.

“You didn’t?”

She shook her head. “No, but you’re such a good kisser.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He grinned and lowered his head to kiss her again. He pushed off the door and pul ed her against him, his hands sliding down over the swel of her ass as he molded their lower bodies together. When was the last time a woman had worked him into a frenzy so quickly? Uh, never. He moved backward, toward the bed, drawing her along with him. She dug her heels into the carpet and wrenched her head to the side.

“I never have sex on a second date,” she said firmly.

“This is our third date.”

She wagged a finger at him. “That only works once, Master Sinclair.”

Her use of his stage name cooled him off significantly, but he stil wanted her. Desperately. What was it about her that made his blood boil? She was so different from the girls he usual y dated. So… proper? But no, not proper at al .

“How about I step into the hal for a couple of minutes and then return?” he suggested. She laughed. “Brian, you’re drunk. I don’t sleep with drunks.”

He scowled. “But I’l be sober in the morning.”

Her hands slid down his back to his ass. She pul ed him closer, crushing his partial y engorged c**k against her pubic bone.

“Promise?”

He gazed down at her, a lazy smile on his lips. “Oh, I get it. You’re a c**k tease.”

She grinned. “Cocks were made to be teased.” She rotated her hips, rubbing against him. He groaned, growing harder. More distracted.

“Besides… you like it,” she said.

Her naughty streak was showing, twinkling in her green-flecked, hazel eyes. And yeah, he liked it. He liked it a hel of a lot. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I have a PhD in cock-tease-ology.”

“Was that an honorary degree?”

She laughed. “I’ve studied it for years. I’m something of an expert.”

He sighed. “Okay. So if I’m not going to get laid, why did you ask me to come to your room?”