Insider

by Olivia Cunning

  get enough. Her hands moved down his chest, and he shifted so she could fumble with his fly. When his cock sprang free—hard, long, and thick in her hand—she was too impatient to remove her clothes. Pushing her sleep shorts and panties to one side, she guided him into her waiting body, gasping as they became one.

  His strokes were slow and deep and drove her crazy as her panties dug into her clit every time their bodies came together.

  “Why is it always so good with you?” he asked.

  She had no answer for him. She had no means of comparison.

  “Is it because I’ve taught you how to please me?” He brushed the hair from her face, staring deep into her eyes as he took her. Slow and deep. Slow and deep. “Is it because I know no man but me has ever been with you like this?” His hand slid under her top to caress her breast, bringing her to new heights when his fingertips found its sensitive tip. “Or is it because I love you?”

  “That,” she said.

  He bent his head and kissed her gently, grinding his hips to take her deeper. “I think it’s all those things,” he whispered against her lips. “Promise you won’t go after the tour ends. Stay with me.”

  She couldn’t exactly promise that. She wasn’t sure what would happen after her assignment ended. She did know she didn’t have a passport, so she couldn’t leave the country. How long did it take to get a passport? “I’ll try.”

  He buried his face in her neck, his thrusts slow and gentle. “I need you with me.”

  Her fingers moved to tangle with his hair. “And I need to be with you. We’ll make this work, Logan.”

  He lifted his head to look down at her. “But how?”

  “How does a woman get a brainy guy to stop thinking while he’s fucking her?”

  He chuckled and kissed her. “She gets on top.”

  Well, that solved one of their problems.

  Thirty-One

  While the band waited for curtain call in Albuquerque, Toni switched on one of the videos she’d recorded a few days before and leaned back into the sofa. The entire band had gathered in the dressing room so they could watch their footage. All five of them had been gracious enough to wear rather unflattering headbands with cameras attached to the sides of their heads so she could get video of their individual perspectives while they performed.

  “Okay, wait,” Reagan said, leaning close to the laptop screen and squinting at a leather-encased ass. “Whose camera is this?”

  Dare laughed. “Considering that all we’ve seen so far is Max’s ass, I’d say it’s yours.”

  “I didn’t know you stared at my ass onstage,” Max said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Is there something you’d like to share with the group?”

  “I don’t stare at your ass!” Reagan insisted.

  “It’s not Reagan’s feed,” Toni said. She’d checked the label several times to be sure. She snorted and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Then whose is it?” Max asked, looking rather green around the gills all of a sudden.

  “It’s Logan’s.” Toni burst out laughing.

  “What the fuck, dude?” Max roared. “Why were you staring at my ass?”

  “I wasn’t!”

  “I think his camera was on crooked,” Toni said.

  “Likely story,” Max grumbled.

  They all turned their heads and squeezed their eyes shut as the camera focused directly on a spotlight overhead.

  “Turn it off,” Steve said. “I want to see mine. It has to be better than this.”

  “I just need a minute of good footage for each of you,” Toni said. “I’m sure there’s something usable on here.”

  She fast-forwarded through half a minute of blinding-lights footage and then they were back to staring at Max’s ass.

  “Turn it off!” Max insisted.

  Toni replaced the SD card labeled Logan with the one labeled Steve. The recording of Steve rising from the stage was kind of cool, with his drum kit in the foreground and the arena coming into view behind it. But when he started to play, it was another story entirely.

  “Pass the Dramamine!” Reagan shouted, sticking out a hand to block her view of the screen. Drums and sticks seemed to be flying at them in all directions as Steve banged his head to the beat while he played.

  “Dear lord, Steve, do you ever hold still?” Dare asked. He swallowed hard and crinkled up his face in disgust.

  “Some of us work hard for a living,” Steve said.

  “Maybe we should try putting your camera on a stand behind you,” Toni said. “That way we can see you in action without giving ourselves whiplash.”

  “That could work,” Logan said. “And you can put my camera on my bass stock so it’s not cockeyed and making it seem like I’m staring at Max’s ass.”

  “You were staring at it,” Reagan said with a laugh. “And we have photographic evidence.”

  Logan reached over and grabbed her knee, squeezing until she was bucking and laughing uncontrollably.

  “Why don’t we see what Reagan’s got?” Steve suggested. “Since she’s so insistent on mocking the rest of us.”

  “We don’t really need to watch two feeds of Max’s ass.” Toni winked at the man attached to that ass.

  “Hey,” Reagan said, “there isn’t anything better to look at from the back of the stage.”

  “Oh really?” Logan said, twisting his head to try to look at his own ass. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got it going on in the ass department.”

  “If that’s what you need to believe to help your self-esteem,” Reagan said.

  Logan grabbed her knee again, squeezing repeatedly until she bucked her giggling self off the sofa. “Boy crazy,” Logan said. “Not that we’re surprised.”

  “So we want to see Reagan’s next?” Toni asked.

  “Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt,” Butch said from the dressing room door. “Can I see you on the bus for a minute?”

  “All of us?” Dare asked.

  “Uh.” Butch’s gaze fell on Toni. “Just the band.” He considered Logan for a second. “And not Logan.”

  “Not Logan?” Max asked.

  “It will take just a few minutes,” Butch said. He backed out of the doorway and disappeared around the corner.

  Toni and Logan, exchanging puzzled looks, watched the others leave the room.

  “Why didn’t he want to see you with the rest of them?” Toni asked.

  Logan shrugged. “They’re probably planning a surprise party for my birthday or something.”

  “Isn’t your birthday at the end of October?”

  “Yeah, well maybe it’s a big surprise.”

  He didn’t seem too concerned about being excluded, so Toni shrugged the oddity off.

  “Do you think we should put cameras on all the instruments to get shots of your fingers moving?” Toni asked. “That might be interesting for the book.”

  “Dare’s fingers, maybe, but mine just kind of go back and forth like . . .” He demonstrated playing two chords over and over again.

  “So we’ll get shots of the audience with your bass cam.” She grinned at him. “If you can keep it off Max’s ass for a few minutes.”

  He poked her in the ribs and she jerked sideways.

  “You know what you should do?” he asked. “Get audience members to wear the head cams in a mosh pit. Since you’re too scared to crowd surf.”

  She was definitely too scared to crowd surf.

  Toni gave him a tight squeeze. “You’re brilliant! Yes, I should totally include that.”

  “You’re the brilliant one,” he said. “You came up with the camera idea in the first place.”

  She laughed and kissed him on the chin. “And I never would have thought of it if you hadn’t made me watch your cliff-diving and bungee-jumping experiences.”

  “Not sure how covering your eyes in horror is considered watching.” He smirked at her.

  “See, if I can’t watch, there’s no way I’d be able to do i
t myself.”

  “Just like you couldn’t skydive?”

  “You threw me out of that plane, Logan Schmidt.”

  “So I guess I’ll have to throw you off a bridge sometime.”

  “You have to get me on the bridge first.”

  Logan glanced around the room, looking a bit lost without his bandmates surrounding him. “Do you want to watch Sinners tonight?”

  Toni clapped her hands together excitedly. “I would love to.” She hadn’t had the opportunity to watch Sinners perform a show yet. She’d been too busy collecting material for her book, and the hour before Exodus End performed always seemed to be the most hectic of her day.

  “We’d better hurry. I think they’re starting soon.”

  Logan led her through several corridors and into the arena. A few stagehands lit their own paths with flashlights, but otherwise it was dark behind the stage. Before Logan and Toni reached the wings, the lights flashed on and the unmistakable wail of Brian “Master” Sinclair’s guitar started the intro of their first song. Toni dashed up the stage steps, not wanting to miss anything. The rest of the band joined the guitar, and then Sed Lionheart screamed out his trademark battle cry.

  Toni cheered with the rest of the crowd, her heart thudding with excitement. Several lines into the first verse, Sed’s voice cracked and he lowered his mic midverse. The rest of the band fell silent, first the guitars, then the bass and drums. His bandmates looked to Sed for direction.

  “You okay?” Trey asked into his microphone.

  Sed nodded. “From the top.”

  His eyes sparkled brightly in the stage lights, but he quickly squeezed them shut.

  “What’s going on?” Toni asked Logan, who shook his head and shrugged.

  The song started over again. Lead guitar followed by rhythm, bass, and drums. Sed’s battle cry. This time Sed didn’t even make it through the first line before he lowered his mic and turned his back to the crowd. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and took several deep breaths. His three guitarists quickly surrounded him, talking to him out of range of the mic, patting him comfortingly on the back or arm. Nodding and gesturing, they seemed to come to some consensus, and Sed turned back to the agitated crowd.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to his audience. “I thought I could do this tonight. I thought performing would make it easier, take my mind off things.” He swallowed hard and pressed his lips together, obviously fighting tears. After a moment, he continued, “I received a call from my sister just before the show. This afternoon, my father passed away unexpectedly.”

  The bottom fell out of Toni’s chest, and her heart sank with it. She pressed her fingertips against her lips to stop their trembling. She knew exactly what he was going through and wondered if he’d appreciate any words of comfort from her—not that words were any comfort when a beloved parent passed away—but she wanted to reach out to him in some way.

  “So I need a minute to pull my shit together so I can sing.” He laughed hollowly and swiped a stray tear from his cheek. “Knew I should have taken up drums.”

  “Nope,” Logan said as he rushed onstage. He covered Sed’s mic with one hand and leaned in close to speak to Sed.

  Toni strained her ears for threads of their conversation, but the murmur of the crowd prevented her from hearing anything. There were vehement head shakes on Sed’s part followed by him tilting his head to listen to whatever Logan was saying. After a moment, Sed smiled at Logan, nodded, and gave him a hearty pat on the back.

  Sed lifted his microphone and said to the crowd, “I’m going to leave you in good hands here.”

  He handed the mic to Logan and jogged offstage. His fiancée, Jessica, who had been waiting at the edge of the stage, wrapped him in her arms. He leaned into her for support, seeming to breathe in her strength, and then took her hand and left via the steps.

  Confused, as was everyone else, apparently, Toni turned her attention back to the stage.

  “We’re all family here,” Logan said. “The bands, the crew, all you sick motherfuckers in the audience.” This prompted loud cheering from crowd. “We’re family. So when one of our own is struggling, we stand up to help. Everyone in this arena knows Sedric Lionheart needs to be with his other family—his blood—tonight. Everyone knows that except Sed. He said he doesn’t want to disappoint the fans. Said he wasn’t leaving until after Sinners performed tonight. He figures you’ll be upset with him if you don’t get to see his band play. So I promised him you’d be able to see them even if he left.”

  Audience members, band members, and crew exchanged confused looks. Toni looked over her shoulder to see if Sed had returned. There was no sign of the hunky vocalist anywhere backstage.

  “I apologize in advance for any damage to your hearing,” Logan said, “but this is the only way I could convince the stubborn bastard to go take care of himself and his family.”

  “What are you talking about?” Trey asked through his microphone.

  Logan grinned and lifted a hand toward the rafters. “Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we’re doing Sinners karaoke, and I’m up first. Hopefully we can convince some of the real vocalists hiding out backstage to sing a few Sinners songs too.”

  Toni was astonished by how quickly the crowd got behind Logan’s idea. She supposed they really were there to have some fun—she knew for a fact that Logan was fun from head to toe—and this karaoke idea was a lot better of a solution than not getting to see Sinners at all. Of course the fans couldn’t be upset about Sed leaving—the man had just lost his father. Toni knew that pain, and she was certain everyone in the audience had lost someone important to them at some point in their lives.

  “Prepare your ears,” Logan said, sticking his finger in one of his to demonstrate. She’d heard the man sing and couldn’t help but think he was doing them a favor by warning them.

  “You are crazy,” Trey said, shaking a finger at Logan but also grinning from ear to ear.

  Logan spread his arms wide as if to say tell me something I don’t already know.

  For the third time, Sinners began the intro to “Gates of Hell,” but this time Logan let loose the battle cry, one that made chills race down Toni’s spine. When he started to sing, she couldn’t believe her ears. Was he lip-syncing? He sounded amazing and though he didn’t have quite the same grit to his voice that Sed Lionheart did, he sounded enough like him that no one seemed to care they were listening to the bassist of Exodus End belt out a Sinners song. It was during the guitar solo, when Logan began to overexaggerate his lead-singer theatrics, that Toni realized she didn’t have her camera with her. This was perfect material for the biography.

  Slapping herself on the forehead, she groaned aloud and made a mad dash back to the dressing room. Would she ever learn? Now she was going to miss some of Logan’s amazing karaoke performance because she kept forgetting that the members of Exodus End were always interesting. And that their bassist, in particular, was pretty fucking spectacular.

  She’d just stepped into the room when a pair of hands shoved her in the chest and sent her stumbling backwards into a wall.

  “How could you?” Reagan screamed at her. “I trusted you. I stood up for you. How could you do this to me?”

  Toni gaped at her, completely taken aback by Reagan’s fury. “What?”

  Toni searched the room, looking for a bit of backup or at least a clue as to what was going on, and discovered Reagan’s wasn’t the only furious face glaring at her. Everyone in the room looked pissed off and their ire was directed at Toni.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on,” she said, gaze darting from scowling Max to jaw-set Steve to arms-crossed Dare. Butch actually cracked his knuckles—was he preparing to strangle her?

  What the hell was happening?

  “You sold our secrets to the tabloids,” Reagan said, shoving a copy of the American Inquirer under her nose.

  Headlines read “Exodus End’s Newest Member Prefers Taking Members in Twos” and “Worth Dying For? Maximi
llian Richardson Knocked-up His Lead Guitarist’s Fiancée Resulting in Her Tragic Suicide” and “Exodus End’s Bassist Hates His Own Brother! Find Out Why Inside.” Before she could read the other headlines, Reagan tore the paper in half and tossed it on the floor.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?”