Sinners On Tour 03 Hot Ticket (18 page)

The next time Jace opened his eyes, a bright light was shining in his face. “Ah good, you’re awake.” A blurry face came into focus. At first he thought it was Trey, but the man was older and lacked Trey’s long bangs and face piercings.

“Doctor Mills?”

“I don’t usually do house calls.”

Well, of course not. He was a frickin’ plastic surgeon. What in the hell was he doing here anyway?

“Your friends think you’re on death’s door, but you’re just healing. No signs of infection. You are anemic and dehydrated, but you’ll recover.”

“I feel like shit.”

“Not that any of you kids ever listen to me, but you really need a blood transfusion and a month of uninterrupted bed rest. Preferably in a hospital, in case there are complications with your recovery.”

“Can Aggie take care of my complications?” He chuckled.

“This is no joking matter,” Aggie said from the opposite side of the room. He might have watched what he said if he’d known she was there. “He will stay in bed and rest, Doctor. You have my guarantee. I know fifteen ways to tie a man.”

Doctor Mills chuckled. “I bet you do.”

“I can’t spend a month in bed. We have three shows next week. In Canada.”

“Then you’ll be playing your bass from your bed,” Aggie said.

“Don’t worry,” Eric said. “I’ve got the perfect solution.”

Eric?
Just how many people were in the room?

Jace lifted his head, his eyes scanning the room. Aggie, Brian, Trey, Sed, Eric, and Doctor Mills. Okay, all the guys were there witnessing firsthand how pathetic and helpless he was. Jace lowered his head to the pillow with a groan.

“What kind of perfect solution?” Sed asked.

“I asked Jon to stand in for Jace for a few shows,” Eric said cheerfully. “He said it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Jon? Jon Mallory? Sinners’ previous bassist, the sun rises and sets over his fingers, the only bassist who could ever properly fill Eric’s drum progressions, Jon Mallory?

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Sed said. “Good thinking, Eric.”

Fuckin’ A. Shoot me now.

Jace lifted a hand to cover his eyes. A burst of pain stabbed the back of his shoulder and snaked down his right arm, reminding him he’d already been shot.

Well
then… shoot me again.

“You rest up, and we’ll see how you are when we get back from Canada,” Sed said.

“Fuck that. I’m coming with you,” Jace said. There was no way in hell he was letting Jon Mallory tour in his place without him there.

“Are you sure you’re up for it, little man?” Eric said.

Aggie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “He’ll have me to take care of him until he gets better. If he’s going, then I’m going.”

Despite Doctor Mills’s assessment of Jace’s condition, Aggie made him go to a hospital for a more thorough examination while the band and crew prepared for the next, extended leg of their tour. A blood test, MRI, and IV of enriched fluids later, Aggie seemed satisfied that Jace was okay to travel. He wasn’t used to having a woman as a fixture in his life. Wasn’t sure how to react to her constant hovering and concern. He hoped he healed quickly so she’d knock it off already. And she’d made him go shopping. Sure, her suitcase had been stolen, and she needed clothes and other necessities, but shopping? Jace hated shopping. Almost as much as he hated that pitying look she kept giving him.

“Maybe you should just stay at my place while I’m gone,” Jace said, leaning heavily on the shopping cart as they ambled through the aisles. She’d tried to get him to use one of those electric scooters when they’d first entered the store. Next, she’d ask him to hand over his balls on a plate. “I promise I’ll take it easy.”

“You don’t want me to go on tour with you?”

He trod carefully into loaded-question territory. “It’s not that I don’t want you to go with me.”
The
guys
are
going
to
rip
on
me
constantly
if
I
bring
a
smothering
chick
on
tour.
And this whole go on tour “thing” had been her idea, not his. He didn’t get why she insisted on it so vehemently. He knew she needed a break from her mother, but she didn’t have to ride on the tour bus to get away from her. “I just think you’d be more comfortable at my place. You’d still be away from your mother, and Brownie would love the company.” He rubbed his jaw on his shoulder to catch sight of her expression. Was she buying it? That would be a negative. She stared at the shampoo display with her pretty face twisted in a harsh scowl.

“I see,” she said in a clipped tone. “I might as well go back to Vegas.”

“No, I didn’t mean…”

She tossed shampoo and conditioner in the cart.

“It’s gonna suck for you to be trapped on a bus with five…” And Jon made six. “Uh, six guys for a month. I think you’d be better off—”

“This has nothing to do with my mother. Don’t you get it? I’m worried about you. I feel responsible for you getting hurt.”

He understood what that guilt felt like. He shouldn’t have been so worried about what the guys would think. He wrapped his good arm around her, his injured one trapped in a newly acquired sling, and held her close, stroking her silky hair with one hand.

“Okay. If it makes you feel better to go on tour with us—”

She stiffened and pulled away with a frustrated sigh. While he tried to figure out what was wrong with what he’d said, she tossed toothpaste, mouthwash, and a toothbrush in the cart, yanked the cart from his grasp, and zoomed off to a different aisle.

Jace struggled to catch up, a stitch in his side. He needed to lie down again. He found her several aisles over selecting cosmetics. He smiled when she added a tube of glossy, cherry-red lipstick to the cart. She looked incredibly hot in red. And leather. He missed her leather.

“I don’t want to force myself into your life, Jace,” she said. “If you don’t want me around, then just say it.”

Why would she think that? He thought the world of her. He just didn’t want any of his bandmates to know it. “I do want you in my life, Aggie. I’m not used to… the hovering. I… my mother died when I was nine, and my father never remarried, so women… confuse me. Why are you mad at me?” And why did asking that question make his heart thud so hard?

“I’m not mad at you,” she said.

She
wasn’t?

“I’m sorry about your mom.” She slid her hand into his hair and kissed his forehead. “Why don’t you tell me about her?”

“No. I didn’t bring her up to make you feel sorry for me. I want to know what I said that made you mad.”

She smiled and hugged him. “You’re fucking adorable. Do you know that?” She kissed the tip of his nose.

Scowling, he wiped at the wet spot with the back of his hand.

“The reason I’m mad—though I’m not exactly mad, just a little hurt—is that you make me feel like you don’t want me on tour with you.”

Well, he kind of didn’t. He wanted to see her, yes, but having her on tour? No, thanks.

“I was hoping that you’d be happy to spend time with me, Jace. Show some enthusiasm. Not look at me like, oh fuck, now I’m going to be stuck with this stupid bitch for a month.”

“I never said that. Never even thought it.”

“It’s the vibe you’re giving off.”

He was supposed to keep track of his vibes now too? Fuck, he couldn’t win. At least he understood what she wanted.

“I can’t
wait
to be stuck with you for a month,” he said earnestly.

She laughed and hugged his arm. “Oh, you. What am I going to do with you?”

He kissed her deeply, lust flooding his loins. “I can think of a few things.”

Jace carried a few of Aggie’s lighter shopping bags up the tour bus steps. He paused when he noticed Eric and Jon sitting on the sofa laughing hysterically. Eric was wearing what Jace suspected was a Kevlar vest. He didn’t bother asking why. The seven horseshoes nailed to the wall above the sofa were new—undoubtedly Mr. We R. Cursed’s idea.

“Ah, here’s little man now,” Eric said, wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his wrists. “Need help carrying that stuff? I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’ve got it,” he said, hurrying toward the bedroom.

He’d thought he and Eric were starting to get along. Now, with the return of Jon the Magnificent, they were back to square one.

“Baby, slow down,” Aggie called after him. “You’ve got to take it easy.”

Great. Just what he needed. Aggie in smother mode in front of Eric. And worse. Jon.

Jace tossed the bags into the back bedroom, brushed past Aggie on his way back down the hall, and opened the fridge. “Now that Myrna’s out of here, we need to get some fuckin’ alcohol on this bus,” he growled. He grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator and slammed the door shut. He gripped the bottle with his wounded arm and attempted to unscrew the top with no success.

“Yeah, we finally get rid of Myrna and Jessica, and
someone
brings another chick on tour with us,” Eric said.

“She can tour me any time she wants,” Jon said. “What a babe.”

Eric laughed. “She’s too hot for little man, that’s for sure.”

Jace didn’t have the patience to deal with their bullshit right now. He tossed the unopened juice bottle into the kitchen sink and returned to the bedroom to find Aggie sorting through her purchases. She smiled, and his pissy attitude lightened. “Where do I put my stuff? I don’t want to infringe on anyone’s territory,” she said.

“We sort of throw all our shit together wherever it fits.”

She lifted her hand to touch his face. “Sweetie, you look pale. You should lie down for a while.”

“I’m fine.”

“The faster you get better, the faster you can get that jackass, Jon, out of here,” she whispered and turned those pretty blue eyes of hers in the direction of the common area.

She had a point. He kissed her tenderly. “I could use a nap.”

“And I could use a shower and a change of clothes.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “Get into bed.”

“Are you going to join me?” he murmured, his hands moving to slide over her luscious ass.

“After my shower.”

“Hurry.”

“Are you planning to get me all sweaty again?”

“Yeah. You’ll have to do all the work. I’m just going to lie there and take it.”

She smiled. “I think we’d be better off cuddling. You really do need your rest.”

Geez, woman, I’m feeling inadequate enough here.
He shrugged his arm out of his sling and peeled his shirt over his head. She traced the stark white tape holding his bandages in place. He needed to heal quickly for more than one reason. This new pity attitude of Aggie’s grated on his last nerve. He removed the rest of his clothes and moved out of reach.

“Come join me after your shower. Don’t bother putting on clothes.”

She grinned. “If you insist.”

“Towels are under the sink.” He climbed into bed and admitted that he did need rest. He was almost unconscious the moment his head touched the pillow. He heard her close the bathroom door. A moment later, the water started flowing. He considered joining her as he drifted toward oblivion. Next time.

Aggie’s scream woke him. “Get out of here, you fucking pervert!”

The bathroom door closed. “I told you she’d go Brazilian, Eric. You owe me twenty bucks.”

Jon.

“How do I know you’re not just saying that?” Eric said.

“Have a look.” The bathroom door opened again. There was a loud thud. “Hey, baby, don’t throw stuff. We’re just settling a bet.”

Jace leaped from the bed and stalked down the hall. He grabbed Jon by the arm and spun him around. Jace’s left-handed uppercut to Jon’s chin sent him flying. Jon landed on his back at Eric’s feet. Eric stared at Jace in astonishment.

“Do you want a piece?” Jace asked Eric.

“We were just having a little fun. Chillax, little man.”

“If you disrespect my woman like that again, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass. You won’t get back up.”

Jon rose up on one elbow, rubbing his jaw. “Jesus Christ, that hurt, dude.”

Aggie opened the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around her curvy body. “Jace, you should have let me punch him. You’ll tear out your stitches.”

He shrugged. It would have been worth it.

She turned to Eric. “Your perverted friend owes you twenty bucks, Eric. I’ll have you know, I do
not
go Brazilian. I shave it in the shape of a butterfly.”

Jace chuckled, glad she had a sense of humor about the situation. She wouldn’t last long on a bus with six guys if she didn’t. “A butterfly?” Jace said. “I don’t recall that. You’d better show me.”

Jace coaxed her toward the bedroom. The faster he got away from Jon, the better.

“Why do you call him little man, Eric? The guy is hung like a whale,” Jon said as he picked himself up off the floor.

“It’s an optical illusion. It just looks big. Even at three inches, it’s half his height.”

“I guess that explains what she sees in him. Shape of a butterfly, my ass.”

Jace closed the bedroom door, shaking his head in disgust. Aggie’s towel snapped against his ass. His entire body tensed in response, and his cock stirred with excitement. He turned to look at her. She traced a butterfly shape on her clean-shaven mound.

“You don’t see the butterfly?” she asked.

“No, I don’t.”

She climbed onto the bed, rolled onto her back, and spread her legs wide. She traced the shape again. “See it now?”

Oh, he saw it all right. Not a butterfly. Everything she had to offer between her thighs. He grew light-headed as his cock thickened.

“Maybe if I come closer,” he murmured.

“I think you should.”

He settled on his stomach, resting on his elbows between her legs. His injured shoulder protested the weight he put on it, so he shifted to his left side. “I still don’t see it. Are you sure it’s there?”

“Maybe if you touch it, you’ll feel it.”

He stroked the smooth skin of her outer lips and mound until she shuddered. Her scent intensified as she grew excited. Wet. Her inner folds swelled. Reddened. Invited him in. He resisted though, touching only her clean-shaven areas.

“Do you feel it yet?” she asked breathlessly.

“I feel plenty,” he said, “but no butterfly.”

“Maybe your mouth can find it.”

He grinned. “I think I’m being manipulated here.”

He licked her smooth flesh. Suckled it. Inhaled her intoxicating scent but purposely avoided tasting her fluids. He could feel her heat against his face—see how swollen and wet she was. His cock protested its neglect.

“Maybe I was wrong,” she said. “Maybe Jon won that bet after all.”

“Don’t say his name in our bed.”

He slid up her body and thrust into her delightfully warm pussy. Ah God, why did she feel so good? Her silky flesh gripped him, stimulating every pleasure sensor in his cock with each forward thrust and withdraw. It had never felt this good before. He couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t think of anything but the feel of her around him. He possessed her faster, unable to believe the pleasure could intensify, but it did. It built so quickly, he couldn’t contain it. He was scarcely aware of her body convulsing with release beneath him. Her pussy tightened as she came, pulling at him, encouraging him to join her in ecstasy.

“Jace, Jace, pull out,” she said frantically.

Pull out? What?

He couldn’t. It felt so good to be buried in her silky depths. Why did it feel so good?

No condom.

Fuck.

His body stiffened as he forced himself to withdraw completely. He slid his cock up her slit, rubbing his length against her clit. He shuddered violently as his seed spurted over her lower belly, the muscles at the base of his cock contracting involuntarily.

“Aggie,” he groaned, wishing he was spurting inside her, wanting her to accept his offering into her body, needing her tight warmth around him as he let go of everything.

Spent, Jace collapsed on top of her, feeling drained—sexually, emotionally, physically. He wanted to give her more, but didn’t have anything left to offer.

Aggie kissed his forehead, drawing his body closer in an embrace. “Maybe it’s time for me to get on the pill so you can come inside me,” she murmured. “Would you like that?”

“Yeah.” Something warm dripped down his arm from beneath his bandage. He didn’t have time to decipher what it was before he passed out.

***

Jace didn’t move, much less wake, as Aggie replaced his blood-soaked bandage. She couldn’t encourage him to get worked up like that again. Not until his wounds healed. The bleeding had stopped for now, but the hole in his flesh looked jagged and uneven. She supposed gunshot wounds always looked like that. He’d have a horrible scar because of her. Could have died if the paramedics hadn’t been so close.

Aggie kissed Jace’s back and covered him with a blanket.

Someone knocked on the door. Jace stirred but didn’t wake. “Just a minute,” Aggie called. She was still naked. She used her discarded towel to wipe traces of Jace’s cum from her belly and reached for her sack of new clothes. As soon as she was covered, she opened the door to find the lead guitarist waiting calmly in the corridor. Brian. The gorgeous one (or was he the sensitive one?) was also the married one, she reminded herself, but my lord, he had a face that belonged on a rocker version of
GQ
and a raw sensuality that could not be ignored.

“We’re heading out in a couple minutes. Did you get all your stuff on the bus?”

Since her suitcase hadn’t been recovered, she didn’t really have stuff. Just the things she bought at the discount store earlier. “Yeah.”

“How’s Jace?”

“He’s sleeping.”

Brian grinned, his intense brown eyes softening. “You wore him out already?”

She flushed under his attention. Why was she flushing? Brian was married. And she liked Jace a lot—loved him even. She just wasn’t used to being around men who weren’t customers. That had to be it. “He’s wounded. Doesn’t take much to wear him out.”

“Well, make yourself at home, Aggie. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks.” What a totally nice guy. No wonder he was married.

The sexy one (or was he the ornery one?), Trey, nudged Brian aside with his huge duffel bag. He tossed it into the back bedroom with a loud thud. “Shhh,” Brian said. “Jace is sleeping.”

Trey rolled his eyes. “You are such a drag since you traded your balls for a wedding band. Thank God, Myrna’s not here. You might act like something other than a pussy for a change.”

Brian grabbed Trey in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles over his scalp vigorously. Trey pretended to protest, but Aggie saw the pleased look on his face that he hid from Brian. Trey placed his palm flat on Brian’s belly and halfheartedly tried to escape his torment. Aggie decided that these two had a thing. Well, Trey definitely had a thing. She wasn’t sure about Brian.

When Brian released Trey, Trey said, “It’s such a relief to not have any stuffy chicks on tour with us this time.”

Aggie cleared her throat.

Trey looked at her. “Fuck, you’re a stuffy chick? I took you as the kick-ass party girl type. You know. Fun.”

“Myrna’s fun,” Brian protested.

Trey’s eyebrows lifted. “Yeah. Whatever you say, dude.”

The hunky one (or was he the cocky one?), Sed, entered the bus and carried several brown paper bags to the kitchenette. He set the bags on the counter and started stocking the refrigerator with beer.

“See, Brian, we get our beer back when your stuffy wife isn’t around,” Trey said.

“Myrna is
not
stuffy,” he insisted.

“Uh, yeah, she is,” Sed said. “But we love her anyway.”

“I miss her,” Brian said miserably.

“Which means you need beer,” Trey said, grabbing a bottle out of Sed’s grip, twisting the top off, and pressing it into Brian’s hand. “Get nice and drunk so I can molest you in your sleep.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Brian said, tossing back his beer and swallowing half in several gulps.

Aggie got the feeling that Trey wasn’t joking. Watching those two go at each other would be sexy as hell.

Eric entered the bus with the pervert-jerk, Jon, on his heels. “Everybody ready?” Eric asked.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Jon said.

“Who’s driving?” Sed asked, crumpling a brown paper sack and tossing it on the floor.

The most ordinary guy on the planet leaned around Jon. While every male on the tour wore leather pants or jeans and a black T-shirt, this guy was dressed in khakis and a green polo shirt. His light brown hair was neatly trimmed and swept off his forehead with a light application of gel. One word described him perfectly:
normal
. “That would be me.” His blue-eyed gaze fell on Aggie. “I’m Dave,” he said with a wave. “Live audio engineer and designated driver.”

She placed a hand on her chest. “Aggie.”

“Jace’s girl,” Eric clarified.

“Nice to meet you,” Dave said. “All right, we’re heading out. Did everyone go potty?”

“Brian didn’t go,” Trey said in a singsong whine.

“You’re such a tattletale.” Brian belched and tossed his empty brown bottle in the sink. He grabbed Trey in another headlock, but this time he backed Trey through the open bathroom door. Trey stumbled over the rim of the stall and into the shower. “Say you’re sorry, or you get soaked.”

“If you’d go potty when Dave tells you to—”

Brian turned on the water.

“Ah, cold!”

Trey grabbed Brian’s shirt and hauled him into the shower. They wrestled and hit each other beneath the flow of water as Brian tried to escape, and Trey tried to get his hands on as much of Brian’s wet skin as possible. If they started making out, Aggie swore she’d rip off her clothes and join them. Jace would just have to get over it.