Backstage Pass (Sinners on Tour 1)

“Everything is fine, sir,” Myrna said.

Brian gripped the steering wheel. “Let me handle this,” he growled at her. He gazed up at the police officer. “Everything is fine, sir.”

The lanky man looked Brian over careful y, his hand resting on the service pistol at his hip. He turned his attention to Myrna, who sat demurely in her innocent-looking, white sundress.

“Are you okay, ma’am? I heard some yel ing and arguing as I approached.”

“I’m fine.” She smiled at him reassuringly.

“And why are you parked on the side of the road?”

Myrna glanced at Brian and grinned wickedly. “My companion was having a hard time driving, so he had to pul over.”

“Have you been drinking, sir?”

“It’s seven o’clock in the morning!”

“Or using?”

“What?” Brian calmed his tone. “No, I haven’t been drinking or using drugs. I was having a hard time concentrating for… other reasons.”

“I see.” The officer didn’t look convinced. “So you pul ed over to switch drivers?”

“Yeah,” Brian said. Myrna didn’t know Brian was capable of blushing until that moment.

“You should do that at a rest area. It isn’t safe to park on the side of the highway.”

“Good point,” Brian said. “Are we free to go?”

“Let me run your license, registration, and proof of insurance first. Make sure everything checks out.”

Brian pul ed his wal et from his back pocket and retrieved his driver’s license. Myrna found the registration and insurance card in the glove box. She handed them to Brian, who offered the paperwork to the trooper.

“California license. Missouri plates.” The officer shook his head and then carried the documents back to his patrol car.

“He thinks I’m a shady character,” Brian said.

“You do look suspicious with al those skul and demon tattoos.”

“You don’t like my tattoos?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said—”

“I heard what you said. Tattoos are suspicious.”

“No, I said they make you look suspicious.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not the same. At al .”

“You sure are bitchy this morning,” he muttered.

Myrna’s nostrils flared. “Excuse me. Did you just cal me a bitch?”

“No, I said you were bitchy this morning.”

“Same difference.” Realizing she’d mimicked his words, she chuckled.

He grinned at her. “We should argue more often.”

“Let me guess. It’s turning you on.”

“Yeah, my bal s have come out of hiding and The Beast is ready to rol .”

Her eyebrows rose suggestively. “Can I ride The Beast?”

He put his fingertips against her forehead. “You must be at least this tal to ride The Beast.”

“Looks like I qualify.”

“Secure your belongings and keep your arms and legs around the ride at al times.”

The trooper cleared his throat outside Brian’s window. Brian started and then glanced up at the officer as if they’d been discussing the weather.

“Everything checks out fine,” the cop said. “You have no outstanding warrants, Mr. Sinclair. And the car hasn’t been reported as stolen.”

Brian scowled. “You sound surprised.”

The officer laughed nervously and handed Brian his license and other papers. “Next time, make sure you do this at a rest area.”

“A rest area?” Brian ducked his head to hide his grin. “Okay, next time we’l do it at a rest area.”

Myrna laughed, leaning heavily against the passenger door as she clutched her midsection in hysterics.

“Am I missing something?” The cop scratched his head, a puzzled look on his face.

“Nope.” Brian returned his license to his wal et. “She forgot to take her meds again.”

Myrna slapped at him and wiped tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes. “Thank you for checking on us, sir,” she said to the cop.

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” Brian said.

Myrna burst out laughing again. The two men stared at her as she struggled to contain her hilarity.

“We’d better switch drivers now,” Brian said.

He slid to the center of the seat and Myrna climbed over his lap to settle behind the wheel. She gave his crotch an appreciative squeeze beneath her skirt as they switched places. She waved at the trooper and rol ed up the window before shifting the car out of park and easing back into traffic. Brian slid closer and squeezed her thigh.

“Now,” Brian said, “let’s see how wel you can concentrate on driving with my head under your skirt.”

She grinned at him and took his wayward hand in hers. “Wait until we get to a rest area. I already know I won’t be able to concentrate with any part of you under my skirt.” She squeezed his hand. “Not this.” She lifted her hand to touch his lips. “Or these.”

She cupped his package through his pants. “And definitely not this.”

“What about these?” He pul ed his boot off and wriggled his socked toes at her.

“Hmmmm,” she said, keeping one eye on the road. “I’m not sure about those.”

Chapter 20

Tampa 78 miles. Brian shifted his gaze from the green road sign to his watch. Eleven a.m.

“We’ve got plenty of time before we have to be in Tampa,” he said. “Let’s take a detour.”

Myrna took her eyes off the road long enough to glance at him. “What kind of a detour?”

“I don’t know. The spontaneous kind.”

“I like spontaneous detours. We have to be careful not to get lost, though. No Master Sinclair means no Sinners show.”

“We won’t get lost. At your next opportunity, head west.”

“That won’t take us far. The Gulf of Mexico is west.”

“Exactly.”

She smiled. “West it is.”

Within ten minutes, they were off the main highway and headed west. “It looks like it might rain,” she commented, gazing at the western horizon.

Brian scowled at the bank of black clouds rol ing in from the distance. It figured the weather wouldn’t cooperate on their first real date. He hoped he could manage to keep his hands off her long enough to romance her a little. He had ten days to convince her to stay with him in L.A. In order to get her to comply, he’d need to seduce more than her body.