I pulled away and shoved my hands into my pockets. “Charlie is—”
“Hello! Let’s do this quickly. I have five minutes to get a couple of photos. Dec, do you have a second guitar here or should I borrow one?”
“I have two.” Dec bumped my shoulder as he moved by me.
Charlie stood in the doorway with his cell poised, clucking commands. “Sit on the edge of the bed facing each other. That’s good. T, take off your jacket. You look too stiff. Better. Let me get one of you smiling….Perfect.”
“Are we done?” I asked when Charlie went quiet, scrolling through the shots he’d taken.
“Give me a second,” he replied.
I glanced at Dec and caught him staring at me. He lowered his chin slightly as his cheeks turned pink. There was something about making a badass tattooed rock dude blush that undid me a little. I held his gaze and smiled.
It took longer than it should have to remember we weren’t alone. Charlie stood in the doorway, looking kind of…dazed and confused. That couldn’t be good. “Char, is that it?”
Charlie nodded as he slipped his phone into his pocket. “Uh…yes. I think so. You’ll be okay together, right? I mean, you’re friends, correct?”
Dec grinned. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll be fine.”
“Okay, then. Um…I’ll see you in San Diego.” Charlie walked backward, waving awkwardly before disappearing.
I propped the guitar against the chair in the corner and peered down the aisle as the bus revved to life. Then I closed the door, locked it, and grimaced. “Do you think he knows?”
Dec frowned, setting his instrument on the bed beside him. “No. We didn’t do anything.”
“You were looking at me funny.”
“Funny, how?”
“Like this…” I fluttered my eyelashes and made a dopey smiley face.
Dec howled with laughter. “Not fucking likely.”
I teased him with a few alternate goofy poses, then pounced. I pushed him onto the mattress and captured his mouth in a far sexier kiss than our earlier one. Dec rolled sideways, twisting his tongue around mine as his hands roved my body. We made out in a frenzy, rocking our pelvises in a desperate quest for friction. I met him thrust for thrust, cupping his ass to hold him close before bucking wildly and—squeak, squeak.
We froze with matching wide-eyed “oh fuck” looks.
“Well, there goes that idea,” I groan-whispered.
Dec licked my jaw. “We can be quiet. Let me suck you.”
I kissed him soundly and shook my head. “Thanks, these are still close quarters, and I’m not sure I can be quiet.”
Dec sat up. “What do you want to do? Chat, play a game…or I could suck your cock and edge you for three hours?”
“Ahh, three different methods of torture.” I scooted to give him room and propped a pillow under my head.
He grabbed a tote bag from a large duffel next to the bed and rummaged through it.
“I have something to ease the pain.” He pulled out a bottle of Patrón, precut lime wedges, and a container of salt….and a couple of magazines.
“You come prepared. What magazine is—no way…Cosmo? Seriously,” I hooted. “Where’d you get this?”
“My mom’s secretary put this together…for my mom. It’s a regift, but who cares? Want a shot?”
“Sure.” I spotted two flimsy plastic cups next to the bed on a built-in tray that doubled as a nightstand. I held them out while he poured, then handed him a cup and raised mine in a toast. “To Zero and Jealousy and a fan-fucking-tastic tour.”
I bit into a lime wedge and smiled at him before slamming the tequila in one gulp.
Dec chuckled. “You did it wrong. You forgot the salt. Do over.”
“I don’t like salt.”
“What? Who says that? That’s like saying you don’t like sugar.”
“No, it’s not, weirdo. But I try not to eat too much sugar either. It’s bad for you.”
“Bo-ring. I never would have guessed you’d turn into a health nut. I’d kill for a bag of salty tortilla chips and some salsa right now.” He poured a little salt on the back of his hand, licked it off like a cat, then bit into the lime and slugged the tequila.
I snickered at the silly face he made as I settled against the wall. “Are there any snacks in that bag?”
“Not sure. Let’s check it out.” Dec took a seat facing me on the bed with his legs crossed and dumped the contents of the tote between us. “Socks, hand sanitizer, gum, M&M’s, pretzels, Home & Garden, Cosmo, ChapStick, and…a notepad and pen. And chips!”
I reached for Cosmopolitan as he opened the bag of chips. “Damn, this thing is chock-full of sex. There’s an article about the best positions for giving blowjobs.”
“Oh, sounds interesting. Read it to me.” Dec licked salt from his fingers and gave a cocky lopsided grin that went straight to my crotch.
“Nah, it’s stupid.”
“Someone’s feeling shy,” he teased, snickering when I growled. “Fine. Don’t read it. Tell me your favorite position…to give and receive.”