Sinners On Tour 05 Double Time (8 page)

“Did you really wear combat boots with a bikini?”

“Is that a problem?”

He shook his head. “I’d just like to see it is all.”

“I don’t wear a bikini to work anymore.” She grinned again. Couldn’t help it. “I wear a guitar now.”

“And nothing else?”

“It wouldn’t bother me. Would it bother you?”

“I’d definitely be bothered. Hot and bothered.”

The phone in the center of the console rang. Trey answered. “One moment. Let me see if I can get reservations at Spago.”

Trey dug his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. Reagan was not dressed to rub elbows with the rich and famous. It didn’t sound all that fun to her, really. Trey slid his finger down the screen of his phone looking for the right number.

“You’ll never get reservations on such short notice,” Reagan said.

He glanced up at her and blushed. She noticed for the first time that he had a light spattering of freckles on his nose. She wanted to kiss them all.

“I… uh… have connections with someone there. They always get me in.”

She took his phone to make sure she had his undivided attention. “I’m impressed. Really,” she said, “but honestly, I’d rather get a burger and a beer and eat while cruising around in the back of a limo. With you. Just you.” She looked up at him. “But if you’d rather I behave properly in public—”

He snatched the phone out of her hand and tossed it into the seat on the opposite side of the limo. The driver’s phone hit the console, and Reagan found herself buried under one hot and eager man. Heavy on the hot.

Dear Lord, the man could kiss. Trey’s lips were soft yet strong against hers. He applied just the right amount of pressure and suction—rubbing with lips, caressing with tongue—to drive her mad with desire. He nipped her lower lip and then drew it into his mouth to suck it gently and soothe it with the tip of his tongue. She knew she was clinging to his back, rubbing her heat against his thigh and panting with excitement, but the incurable tease in her had gone on vacation and for a long moment she let Trey drive her to distraction without even considering pushing him away.

“Sir,” a tinny voice said from somewhere in the middle of the car. “Sir! We’re blocking the drive-thru.”

Reagan slapped around at the console, trying to find the phone receiver. When she finally wrapped her hand around it, she turned her head to break Trey’s kiss. He stared down at her, his heavy-lidded eyes partially closed, and a pulse of hot lust surged through her pussy. He seemed to be waiting for her to give him the proper cue, but all she could do was stare up at him and imagine the feel of his cock filling that hot, achy emptiness between her thighs.

“Sir, are you there?” the driver said exasperatedly. “Damned rock stars,” he muttered.

Reagan lifted the receiver to her ear. “The damned rock stars would like to drive around for a while. Head north along the coast. Just keep driving. We’ll let you know when to stop.”

“Yes, madam,” the driver said sheepishly.

She tried to hang up the phone, but she couldn’t reach. Trey took the receiver and set it in its cradle. When he shifted, his cock pressed against her mound. Had he been unexcited, or even half-hard, she might have stood a chance, but he was hard as stone. She shuddered and, heaven help her, moaned. His breath caught, and his gaze shifted to her face. The sultry look he gave her set her ablaze. Trey buried both hands in her hair, tilting her head back slightly as he stared down into her eyes.

“I want to kiss every inch of you,” he murmured and ground his cock against her mound. “Then I want to lick every inch. And touch. Then suck. Then fuck.” He gave her hair a hard tug. “Every inch.”

She wanted to shout,
Yes, Trey, kiss me lick me touch me suck me fuck me, all of me, all of me!
but it came out as an incoherent gasp.

“I will find all your spots. Pleasure you until you beg me to possess you. When I finally do, I’ll plunge into you hard. Deep.”

She could practically feel him inside her. “Fast,” she gasped. “Hard and fast.”

“Slow,” he murmured and lowered his head to kiss her jaw. His lips scorched a trail down her throat. When he reached her collarbone, he paused. “So slow.” He rubbed against her again and she spread her thighs so he slipped lower. Their clothes prevented him from surging into her body, but she felt him there, gyrating against her opening in slow, sensual arcs. “I want to make you come hard, so hard, but only after I spend hours worshipping your body.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she said.

The light stubble on his chin was rough against her nipple as he used it to push the neckline of her tank top down. His tongue slid against the erect bud and her stomach clenched with need.

“Jealous?” he whispered, his breath teasing her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and rubbed it with circular motions of his tongue.

“A little,” she admitted. “Now that I’m your steady girlfriend, I expect you to pleasure only me.”

He tensed. She waited for him to deny her as his girlfriend so she could find the sense to tell him to get off her, not to get her off. It wasn’t as if she’d never had a one-night stand before, but she always regretted them in the morning. She didn’t want to regret anything with this man. She kind of liked him. Getting tangled up with him sexually too quickly would ruin that. There’d be the awkwardness and the niceties and then he’d never call her again. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew how players operated.

“Yeah,” he said, “only you, Reagan.”

Well, that just pissed her off. Lying to her to get her to submit? Wrong.

She shoved him onto the floor of the limo and sat up, concealing her reddened, very excited, and suddenly lonely nipple under her top again.

“What?” Trey said, sitting on the floor at her feet, looking all tousled and aroused and completely flabbergasted. Damn him for being so irresistible. And knowing it.

“I do have feelings,” she said. “And I’m not stupid, so don’t think your lies are going to work on me.”

“What lies?” The man was a fine actor. He honestly looked like he had no idea what she was talking about.

“
Only
you, Reagan
,” she said, mimicking that sultry, bedroom voice of his.

“What lies?” he repeated. “I meant that. I want that. With you. Only you.”

“You want what with me, Trey? Sex?”

“A committed, steady relationship. I want to try it for the first time in my life. With you, Reagan. Don’t take it lightly. If you think the idea doesn’t scare the piss out of me, you’re wrong. But, I think…” He shifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

“I didn’t say I’ve never been in love. I said I’ve never been in a steady, committed relationship.”

Reagan scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “So you cheated on the woman you loved?” Ethan had cheated. She couldn’t be with a man who cheated again. It hurt too much.

“No, it was one-sided. Bri—the person I was in love with didn’t love me back. I kept hoping that would change given enough time, but… I want to move on. I didn’t think I’d ever feel that way—didn’t think I’d ever give up—but today has been one kick to my system after another and here you are all perfect for me. I don’t think I should ignore that.”

She snorted. “You think I’m perfect?”

“No, I think you’re pretty fucked up, Reagan. Perfectly fucked up.”

She tightened her arms, which still crossed her chest, and rubbed her upper arms. “You’re fucked up too.”

“Exactly.”

She watched him for a moment, looking for the smooth operator who separated women from their panties with such ease, but Trey seemed completely sincere. She’d be able to tell if he was just saying what he thought she wanted to hear to get into her pants, right? She supposed there was an easy way to tell.

“Okay, we’ll try this serious relationship thing on one condition.”

“I have a pressing condition in my pants.”

She shook her head at him, needing him to be serious. “I don’t quite trust you yet. I still think you just want to fuck me and then dump me. Which, okay, fine if that’s the truth then I can handle that, but don’t make me love you and then break my heart.”

“Why would I open my heart to you if that was the case?”

“I’m not sure if you’re opening your heart or just making up some bullshit story to get laid.”

“I’m not. Honestly, Reagan, I have no problem getting laid. If that’s all I wanted, I can find it anywhere.” He stared up at her for a long moment and, when she didn’t back down, he released an exasperated sigh. “What’s your condition?”

“That we spend the entire day together on a completely platonic level.”

“That’s a sucky condition.”

“No sucking either.”

He laughed. “Okay, fine. Platonic. I can do that. That’s where we hold our breath, try not to come for a really long time, meditate and stuff, right?”

She laughed. “No, baby, that’s tantric.”

“I was hoping that was what you meant,” he said, a devilish grin on his handsome face. “But if you did actually mean platonic, I think I can manage it for one day.”

“And you have to pass the Ethan test.” No one ever passed the Ethan test. Her heart would be perfectly safe from Trey Mills’s clutches.

“That’s two conditions. You get one or the other.”

Only fair, she supposed. He’d never make it through a platonic day anyway. “Fine. You just have to make it through the day without a single come-on, caress, or stolen kiss. And no flirting.”

“Agreed.” He extended a platonic hand. “Shake on it.”

She took his hand and shook it, surprised when he didn’t try to prolong the clasping of their hands. “It’s a deal then. One platonic day together.”

He released a relieved breath. “Thank God the sun goes down in six hours. You said nothing about a platonic night.”

Why did the man have to be so feckin’ perceptive?

Trey had never had so much fun not having sex with a woman. They’d had burgers and beers while watching a ballgame in the back of the limo. Had he wanted to steal a kiss, rip off her clothes, fuck her senseless? Every second. But he’d somehow managed to behave. She’d cheered for the San Diego Chargers, and just to get her all up in arms, he’d pretended to be a fan of the opposing team. He hadn’t paid enough attention to the game to remember who had won.

After the game, they’d taken a walk on the beach. Talked. About music. He’d never met a woman who knew so much about music. He’d hung on her every word. Was it because he was thinking about the way her kiss tasted, the heat he’d discovered between her legs, the cute way she squinted in the sunshine when she looked up at him? Only about half the time. She was genuinely interesting. He wasn’t just pretending she was interesting to get laid. He’d talked to women this way when he had no interest in them sexually, but this? This was new for him. This being totally turned on by a woman he genuinely liked blew his mind. Why had he thought this was a bad thing? Because he’d always felt like he was being untrue to Brian, that’s why. Screwing around with people he didn’t care about didn’t feel important. Every time Brian entered his thoughts, Trey still felt guilty for liking Reagan so much. It felt like he was cheating on Brian. It seriously messed with his head so he made an effort not to think about Brian. With Reagan beside him, it was easier than he’d thought it would be.

He and Reagan found a skate park on the beach and she talked a couple of dudes into letting her borrow their skateboards. She ollied and kickflipped like a pro. Trey tried to keep up, but he hadn’t been on a skateboard in about ten years and it showed. The skater dudes were impressed with Reagan’s abilities. Trey knew they were all thinking about fucking her. He could see the hunger in their eyes. Even though Trey spent most of their skate park adventure scraping his bruised body off the ground in a most unimpressive fashion, she left with him—much to her captive audience’s dismay—and they’d continued down the beach.

She spotted a drink shack and lit up with excitement. “I’m thirsty. Are you thirsty?”

He needed a Tylenol and an icepack for his elbow more than a beverage, but how could he say no to that eager look on her face? “Yeah, sure. What do you want?”

“Vanilla shake.”

He bit back a quip about vanilla sex.

A Frisbee landed at Reagan’s feet and a big, slobbery, yellow dog barked at her excitedly. He wagged his tail and nudged the plastic disk with his nose.

“He doesn’t bite! Would you mind tossing that this way?” some guy yelled from near the waves.

Reagan gave the dog a scratch behind the ears and then tossed the chewed up bit of plastic toward the waves. She chased him a couple of steps and then stopped dead in her tracks. She glanced at the line at the drink stand and then at Trey.

“Go play with the dog,” Trey said. “I’ll get your drink.”

Her happy laugh was all the reward he needed as he found the end of the line.

While Trey waited for the cashier to make Reagan’s vanilla milkshake, he watched her throw the Frisbee down the beach for the Labrador retriever again and again. The dog’s owner was watching her almost as closely as Trey was. The dog was in total puppy love as she scratched him behind the ears, took the tooth-marked plastic disk from his mouth, and gave it another toss toward the lapping waves.

“Here you go,” the girl behind the counter said. “One vanilla shake. One cherry slush.”

Trey tore his attention off Reagan long enough to pay for their drinks. When he turned around, drink in each hand, he found Reagan laughing with the owner of the yellow lab. Trey hurried to her side. He wondered how many women the guy picked up this way.

“No he didn’t. Really?” Reagan said to the attractive, tan, and athletic dog owner. She had this way of holding one eye closed when she thought you were full of shit. It made Trey wonder what she looked like when she had an orgasm.

“Yeah. I thought for sure she was going to call the cops on me.”

Trey sidled closer to Reagan. She smiled at him when he handed her the vanilla shake, but she immediately turned her attention back to the dog guy. “So why didn’t she?”

“Riley didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said and turned to his dog. “Did you, boy?”

Riley took several backward steps, his tail wagging, and produced a loud
WOOF!
in agreement.

“He was just looking for love. Weren’t you, boy?”

Woof! Woof!

Trey slurped his slush as loudly as possible, hoping to regain Reagan’s undivided attention. A harsh, jabbing pain radiated up the back of his throat and pounded incessantly behind his right eye.

“Ah, God. Brain freeze!” Trey yelled and covered his eye with his free hand. “Fuck. Why does that hurt so bad?”

Reagan laughed at him. “Suck it more slowly next time,” she advised.

He had fifteen lines he could have used at that moment, but he had to keep things platonic between them for another hour or so.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she watched him wipe tears out of his eyes. He’d take a broken nose over brain freeze any day.

“I think I need to walk it off,” he said and gave the loser and his dog a pointed look.

“This is Scott,” Reagan said, misinterpreting Trey’s tell-this-guy-to-get-lost look.

Trey nodded at him without taking his eyes off Reagan. He’d never felt so possessive of a woman before. He didn’t even want Scott to look at her. The fact that Scott was using a dog as an excuse to flirt with her made him pretty lame in Trey’s book. Of course, if Scott had a medal of valor, five Olympic gold medals, and a Nobel prize hanging around his neck, Trey would have still thought he was lame. He was hitting on Reagan and Trey couldn’t touch her in such a way to make it clear that she was his. Trey had to be very careful not to give her a reason to blow him off. One more hour to behave. And then once he met her condition, all bets were off. If she tried to push him away again, he’d just have to take the upper hand and see how she reacted. He was starting to understand her signals. Maybe.

“We should probably head back to the limo,” Trey said, careful not to put emphasis on that last word. That would make him as lame as Scott. Trying to impress the girl with material possessions. He didn’t need stuff to impress a woman. But, hello, they had a limo at their disposal.

Reagan nodded and took a long sip of her milkshake. Her face twisted in pain and she covered one eye with her free hand. “Brain freeze,” she gasped.

“You should—”

“Suck it more slowly next time?”

“You can suck it as fast as you want.” He winced as soon as it was out of his mouth. He was so used to turning every phrase into innuendo it happened automatically.

Reagan laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll suck it real slow. It will last longer that way.”

As turned on as he was by this woman, there were no guarantees he’d last at all. No matter how slow she sucked. He stared at her mouth as he took another slurp of his slush, holding the frigid beverage in his mouth to warm it slightly before he swallowed this time.

Reagan bent and gave the dog another scratch behind the ears. “No more humping elderly women in wheelchairs, Riley. It’s not nice.”

Riley barked and wagged his tail. Trey laughed.

“Bye, Scott,” Reagan said without looking at him.

Two points for the Trey-ster. Trey so wanted to take her hand and hold it as they walked away, but he had a little over an hour to keep his hands to himself.

“So I take it you like dogs,” Trey said.

“I love dogs. Do you have a dog?”

“I had one when I was a kid. He got hit by a car. Haven’t had one since.”

Reagan’s features softened with sympathy and she slid a
comforting
hand down his back. Damn, he was horny. Even that small contact had his cock at full attention.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You haven’t had any pets since?”

“Just Eric Sticks.”

Reagan laughed. “I can’t wait to meet Eric. He seems like so much fun when I’ve watched interviews of you guys.”

“You’ve watched interviews of Sinners?” He wondered what she thought of him. He didn’t say too much during interviews. Their lead singer, Sed, liked to hear himself talk.

“I’m kind of obsessed with Sinclair.”

Trey completely understood that obsession.

“I love his sound. It speaks to me,” she added and took another draw off her milkshake.

“I honestly thought you were him at that audition. It’s amazing how much you sound like him.”

“I’ve been practicing. Could you introduce me to him? I promise not to turn into a gushing fangirl.” She covered her chest with one hand. “Much.”

“He’s used to gushing fangirls.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. But I like it. Brian never did.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll try not to prostrate myself at his feet, kiss his boots, and repeat his name like a mantra to the rock gods.”

Trey wanted to make her repeat his name like a mantra to the
sex
gods. “You should play for him,” he said, trying to keep his train of thought from slipping. Not doing so well with that, thanks.

She paused, her bare toes scrunching in the sand. Damn, even that was sexy. When she didn’t say anything, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I’d rather play with you.”

Trey bit his lip, the urge to spill another come-on line overwhelming. He wasn’t sure, because the blood rushing through his head on its way to his cock was rather loud, but he might have actually produced a verbal groan of longing.

“You’re censoring yourself, aren’t you?” she asked and touched his chest with her fingertips. His heart thundered in his chest.

“I’m trying so hard to be good,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. If you ditch me, I can easily find someone else to entertain me.”

Her features hardened and he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

“The thing is, I don’t want anyone else. I like you, Reagan.”

“How often do you use that line?” she asked.

“Never,” he said honestly.

She smiled and he was glad she believed him. “I was sort of hoping you’d stop trying to be good and just be yourself. I keep glimpsing this naughty guy and I’d like to get to know him a little better. I’m not sure why I gave you that platonic ultimatum. I’ve been wishing I hadn’t for the past three hours.”

“If I give free rein to my naughty side, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

She cocked her head to the side, her gaze trained on his mouth. “What about your lips?”

“They’d be all over you too.”

“And your tongue?”

Now he was sure he groaned with longing.

She stared into his eyes as if contemplating her options. “Do you want to come back to my place? It’s not far from here.”

“I’d like that.”

“Just so you know, this doesn’t mean you’re going to get laid, Trey Mills.”

She was killing him here.

“It guarantees it,” she added.

Heat flooded his lower belly and spread to his groin. He wasn’t going to make it all the way to her place. He didn’t care how close it was.

He draped an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer, hurrying her toward the limo parked at the far end of the beach. Her warmth melted into his side as her arm moved to rest against his lower back. Her fingers brushed his side.

She nodded toward the waves. “Beautiful sunset.”

Trey glanced at the horizon. The sun had just kissed the ocean. The sky was ablaze with shades of pink and orange. He’d never been so happy to see a sunset in his life. Even though she’d recanted her stupid platonic ultimatum, he’d somehow made it through without dying from blue balls. Two points for the Trey-ster.

“I had fun with you today, Trey,” she said, “but I think I’m going to have a lot more fun with you tonight.”

“I think that’s a safe assumption.”

***

Reagan climbed into the limo and slid around the white leather seat to give Trey room to join her. Had she really just invited Trey back to her apartment? And promised him sex? Jeez, just because her pussy had been wet and swollen since he’d kissed her earlier didn’t mean it was a good idea to come on to him so strong. He had way more self-control than she did. When he ducked into the car, his long bangs obscuring one sultry green eye, and pinned her with a look of pure lust, she had no regrets. Other than dirty feet from walking barefoot down the beach and dog-germ hands. As much as she wanted to touch Trey, she decided she needed a shower first. That last coherent thought fluttered out the moonroof when he looked at her like she was his favorite cherry dessert.

The limo’s door closed behind him and he settled beside her. He leaned close so that his nose brushed her cheek near her ear and his warm breath tickled her earlobe. “Later,” he said in a low voice, “I’m going to make love to you slowly and appreciate every inch of that gorgeous body of yours, but right now…” He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth as if his own thoughts were torturous. “Right now I’m going to devour you.”

Eyes wide, she turned to look at him. His mouth captured hers in a deep, sucking kiss. His tongue flicked against the inside of her upper lip and she groaned, opening her mouth to his possession. His lips tasted of cherry and some unique flavor that could only be described as Trey-licious. She leaned into his hard body, pressing her breasts against his chest.

He shifted and she found herself belly-to-belly with him and sprawled across the backseat of the limo. He moved his thigh between her legs and pressed it firmly against the throbbing ache that longed to be filled by him. She squirmed, needing rougher stimulation, and felt the evidence of his desire against her hip. He tore his mouth from hers and met her eyes. “I want you,” he said. “Reagan.” He buried one hand in her hair and tilted her head back so he could move those sucking kisses of his to her throat. “Reagan.”

“I want you too,” she said breathlessly.

“Say my name.”

“Trey.”

He moved his hand to brush the straps of her tank top down until her breast was exposed. He flicked his tongue over one nipple and her entire body tensed.