Hot Ticket: Sinners on Tour (The Sinners on Tour)

by Olivia Cunning

  “I’m about to crash,” Eric said. “When is Brian supposed to get here and give us a break?”

  “In a few hours,” Jace said.

  “You can go, Eric,” Dare said. “You’ve done enough for him.”

  Eric smiled and then jumped to his feet. “I’m not pussing out now. Who needs coffee?”

  “Yeah,” Dare said absently.

  “I’ll take a cup,” Jace said. He expected Eric to twist his words into a barb, but he headed out of the room to find another dose of caffeine. Jace decided Eric must be completely exhausted if he’d given up on wisecracks.

  “I didn’t talk to him about Brian,” Dare said.

  Jace looked at him in question. “What about Brian?”

  “I should have talked to him. I should have checked on him to make sure he was okay.”

  Another thing Jace completely understood. A case of the “should haves.” I should have ridden the bus to school that day. I should have pushed Kara away. I should have never climbed out that window. I should have never been born.

  “I should have talked him into going to the doctor sooner,” Dare said.

  “We tried to talk him into going to the doctor, Dare,” Jace said.

  “But he listens to me.” Dare stroked his eyebrow with his middle finger. “Sometimes.”

  “We should have insisted. We knew he was hurt,” Jace said.

  More should haves.

  Eric returned with three Styrofoam cups between his long fingers. “What are you two grumbling about?” He handed a cup to Dare and then one to Jace, before taking a sip from his own.

  “We should have gotten Trey help sooner,” Dare said.

  “Well, we didn’t. Now we have to deal with the consequences. No sense in beating yourself up over things you can’t change. You have to make the best of the current situation,” Eric said.

  “The current situation blows,” Dare said.

  Jace patted Dare’s hand again. He understood. He still beat himself up over things he couldn’t change years after they occurred. He couldn’t imagine ever letting that guilt go.

  Chapter 6

  Obnoxious pounding on Aggie’s front door woke her before noon. She grabbed a pillow and buried her head beneath it. It muffled the persistent knocking, but not enough to let her go back to sleep. When the pounding intensified, she huffed loudly, kicked her covers aside, slipped a robe over her naked body, and stormed to the front door. Her mother stood on the threshold, glancing over her shoulder nervously.

  “What are you doing here?” Aggie asked.

  Mom pushed her way over the threshold, slammed the door behind her, and locked it. “I’m staying here for a few days. You got coffee?” She eyed the open door of the soundproof room where Aggie worked over her clients. It had stood empty since Jace had left the night before.

  Aggie took Mom’s elbow and led her through the connecting foyer into the living room. She continued through the family room to the kitchen, which was separated from the large, open room by a breakfast bar. “Why do you need to stay here? What did you do now?”

  “Some men are looking for me. No big deal—just better if they don’t find me. Mind if I smoke?”

  Mom reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She thumped one out of the pack and put it between her bright pink lips.

  “Actually, I do mind. Go smoke outside. I’ll put on coffee.”

  Mom glanced over her shoulder toward the closed front door. “I need to quit anyway.” She put the cigarette back in the pack and went to close the reinforced door that separated the living room from the foyer. Aggie usually left it open, unless she was expecting a client, but if it made her paranoid mother feel better, she’d keep it closed for added security.

  Mom followed Aggie to the kitchen and perched herself on a stool at the breakfast bar. Yawning, Aggie started a pot of coffee brewing and leaned against the counter across from her mother.

  “What’s with you?” Mom asked. “You get laid or something?”

  “Huh?” How on earth would her mother know that?

  “You’re walking all bowlegged.”

  “Shut up,” Aggie said. “I am not.”

  “If you say so.” Mom gave her an appraising look, reached into her purse, and retrieved her pack of cigarettes again. “Men. Jackasses. All of them.”

  Normally, Aggie would agree, but she’d found one last night she kind of liked. One who apparently made her walk bowlegged. “They’re not all bad.”

  Mom thumped another cigarette out of the pack, put it between her lips, and lit it. “Shit, you found a man, didn’t you?”

  Aggie shrugged. “Not really.”

  Mom took a deep drag off her cigarette, smoke curling around her head as it floated to the ceiling. Aggie really wished she wouldn’t smoke in her house, but with this woman there were so many battles, Aggie had to pick the ones she was willing to fight.

  “Not really?” Mom lifted her penciled eyebrows at her. “What’s his name? Is he nice?”

  “There’s no guy, Mom.” Aggie said, shaking her head. She was unwilling to tell her mother anything about Jace. Not even his name. She wouldn’t describe how attractive she found him or how his rare laugh warmed her heart. And would especially never mention how he fulfilled her sexually in a way no other man ever had. She knew if she confided even the tiniest detail, her mother would point out everything negative, until Aggie lost sight of how wonderful he was. Mom always did that.

  “So what’s going on with you?” Aggie asked. Mom never showed up unless she needed something. Even when Aggie had been a kid, her mother had been more absent from her life than present. The woman was always chasing one unlikely dream or another. Having a kid had never been a dream—more of a burden. She was far more likely to run from her parenting obligations than embrace them. Aggie had come to terms with that years ago.

  The coffee pot gurgled as it spewed the last of the brew into the carafe. The heady aroma of strong coffee perfused the cozy kitchen. Aggie turned to fill two mugs. She shoveled several spoonfuls of sugar into her mother’s cup, taking her own black.

  Her mother accepted the mug between her bony hands and took a sip. “I had this great idea to finally get you out of that strip club.”

  Aggie rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? I like working there. I don’t dance because I have to. I dance because I want to.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Agatha.” She shook her head dismissively. “I bought a book on the Internet.”

  “A book? What kind of book?”

  “On how to win at slots. Guaranteed.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Yeah. And I tried out the method.” She smiled brightly. “I won a couple grand.”

  “That’s great. You can pay down your credit cards.”

  Mom took another drag off her cigarette. Slurped some coffee. Took her time about getting to the point. “So I thought if I can start with fifty bucks and make two thousand, then if I start with fifty thousand, I could make two million.” She pointed her cigarette at Aggie and offered her a wink. “I was always good at math.”

  Aggie’s heart sank. “What did you do, Mom?”

  “Well, what do you think? I took out a loan and went to the casino. I kept thinking I would get ahead. I followed the book to the letter.”

  Oh shit. “How much did you lose?”

  Mom stared at the glowing tip of her cigarette. “Well, after I lost the first fifty grand—”

  “Fifty grand!”

  “I borrowed another fifty and…” She shrugged, took the last drag off her cigarette, and finding no available ashtray, crushed it on Aggie’s granite countertop.

  “You lost a hundred thousand dollars in slots!”

  “Oh, no no no no no,” Mom said, shaking her head vigorously.

  Aggie sucked in a deep breath of relief.

  “I only lost fifty grand in slots. The other fifty I lost at roulette.” She smiled sweet as syrup.

&
nbsp; “What is wrong with you?” Aggie shouted.

  “I wanted to get you out of that club, sugar. That’s all.”

  “Mother! Don’t you dare try to make this my fault.” Aggie rubbed her face with both hands. She had a few thousand dollars in the bank and another grand in the sink in her master bathroom, but she’d just remodeled this house for her side business, so her liquid assets were minimal. No way could she come up with a hundred grand to pay off that loan. “Wait a minute.” She pinned her mother with a hard stare. “Who in the hell would loan you money? Your credit is shit.”

  Mom shrugged, twisting her garish red hair around one finger. “Oh, some guys.”

  “Some guys?”

  She scrunched her eyebrows together and pursed her lips. “I think they’re members of the Mafia,” she whispered and glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting to see them standing behind her with sandy shovels.

  “What?”

  Mom flinched. “Don’t you yell at me, young lady!”

  Aggie paced the galley area of the kitchen, chewing on the end of her finger. “When are you supposed to pay them back?”

  “Soon.”

  “How soon?”

  Mom cringed. “I do not like your tone, Agatha. Don’t forget who you’re talking to. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even exist.”

  “How soon?”

  “Three weeks ago.” She tapped another cigarette out of the pack and lit it.

  Aggie found it impossible to close her mouth. Or breathe. “And you tell me this now?” she sputtered finally.

  “I know how busy you are. I didn’t want to bother you with my little problems.”

  And now Aggie was hyperventilating. “Little! I suppose you owe them interest as well.”

  “Of course. Who gives loans without charging interest?” Mom said and took a deep drag off cigarette number two. She pulled the butt from her mouth and stared at its glowing ember as she slowly exhaled and drew smoke into both nostrils.

  “How much?”

  “Twenty percent.”

  “Annually?”

  Mom laughed, a billow of smoke erupting from her mouth. She lifted her blue-eyed gaze to Aggie’s. “They don’t do annual loans, sugar. I really thought I’d be a high roller right now, with no problem paying everything back and setting up both of us for life—somewhere other than Vegas. I’m tired of Vegas. Aren’t you?” She shrugged and took another drag off her cigarette. “How do you feel about Tahiti?”

  “They’re going to kill you, you stupid woman.”

  “How are they going to get their money out of a dead body? I’ll figure something out. I always do. But until then, I don’t want them to know where I am, so I’m visiting for a while. Okay?”

  No, it wasn’t okay, but what could she do? This was her mother—her ridiculous, stupid, exasperating mother. If she didn’t love her so much, she’d strangle her.

  And then she had that little problem of Jace coming over that evening. How was Aggie going to hide him from the nosy woman? The last person on earth she wanted to introduce him to was her mother.

  Chapter 7

  Jace rang Aggie’s doorbell precisely at five. He stuffed his guilt trip to the back of his mind. He should be visiting Trey in the hospital, not seeking hot, all-encompassing sex from the most desirable woman on the planet. Trey had woken a few hours ago, but he wasn’t back to normal just yet. He’d lost much of the mobility in both hands. Jace wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He just needed to get Aggie out of his system one more time, and he’d be fine. With her help, he could concentrate on something other than the ache in his soul that was already building again. The matching ache in his groin was only a minor consideration.

  The middle-aged, red-headed woman who answered the door looked him up and down suspiciously.

  “What do you want with me?” she growled. Her eyes were the same cerulean blue as Aggie’s, but this tough-looking broad was no Aggie.

  “Uh…” Thrown off his guard, Jace had lost his tongue.

  “I ain’t got it yet, Maynard. Keep your dick in your pants.”

  She slammed the door in his face.

  Jace scratched his head. Checked the house number to assure himself this was Aggie’s house.

  Who?

  What?

  The door opened again. Lovely Aggie appeared wearing her leather dominatrix costume. The embroidered design on the corset was different. Last night it had been red roses. Today it had mint green humming birds.

  Aggie rolled her eyes at Jace. “Sorry about that. My mother is visiting. Unexpectedly. Against my will. And better judgment.”

  That half hard-on he’d been sporting most of the day shriveled. “Your mother?”

  “You’re just a client.” She gave him a stern look.

  Just a client. So that incredible intimacy they’d shared the night before, that connection he’d never experienced with anyone, hadn’t meant anything to her? Why did that thought cut into his heart? It wasn’t as if he gave a shit. He didn’t. He didn’t give a shit about anything but his music. It was the only thing in his life that never let him down.

  Aggie took his hand and led him toward the soundproof room where she’d whipped him so spectacularly the night before. And drawn blood. He shuddered at the memory.

  “You know him?” Aggie’s mother stood in the foyer with her arms crossed over her chest, watching her daughter with disapproval.

  “I told you I had a five o’clock appointment. Go back into the house.”

  “I don’t trust him, Agatha. He looks suspicious. Like a member of the Mafia.”

  Mafia? Probably the leather jacket. Jace hurried into the room where Aggie served her clients.

  “He’s not Mafia. Go away, Mother.” Aggie slid the sanctum’s door closed behind her and bolted it. She turned to face Jace. “Sorry about that. She has… issues.” She fluttered a hand.

  Jace shrugged and looked at the floor. He wanted to leave. He couldn’t do this with her mother in the house, especially not after the woman had told him to keep his dick in his pants. The sole reason he was here was to put his dick in her daughter. Repeatedly and in excess.

  “I should go,” he said quietly.

  Aggie moved to stand directly in front of him. Her large, succulent breasts entered his line of sight. He licked his lips. His cock stirred in his pants. This woman was positively luscious and chased every thought from his head. She cupped his face in both hands and eased his gaze up to hers. “What’s the matter?”

  “Trey…”

  “The guitarist in the hospital?”

  He nodded. “I should go visit him.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He made it through surgery, and he’s awake now. I should be with him.”

  “So he’s okay then?”

  Jace shook his head slightly. “He can’t move his fingers right, or something.”

  “You can go see him later. He’s probably resting.”

  “Yeah.” Jace lowered his eyes to her full, ruby red lips. “Resting.” He stared at her lips, mesmerized by their sensuality. “Can I kiss you?” His hands moved to rest on the flare of her hips. He shifted her closer.

  “Are you staying for a while?”

  He nodded. Even if he was just her customer today, he still wanted to be with her.

  “Then, yes. Kiss me, Jace.” She said his name like a gentle caress. It made his heart ache.

  Don’t pretend you care. Just don’t.

  He brushed his lips over hers. Her lips were soft. Yielding. He kissed her again. More deeply. He leaned away and looked into her eyes.

  “I thought about you a lot today,” she murmured, wiping at the corner of his mouth with her thumb. He was probably wearing half her lipstick now.

  He smiled. It felt natural to smile when he was with her. He never felt that way with anyone. He always felt on guard, but not with her. With her he felt… safe? Comfortable? Understood? Something. “Oh, yeah?”

  She nodded. “Di
d you think of me?”

  “Constantly.”

  She tugged his shirt over his head and bent to press her lips to his collarbone.

  “I’m afraid to look at your back. Are you sore?” Her fingers trailed gently over his skin.

  He’d had a hard time crawling out of bed that afternoon, but he was ready for more now. “Not really. You’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”

  “Whatever you want, baby. You’ll do the same for me, won’t you?”

  She wouldn’t ask him to hit her, would she? He didn’t have it in him.

  “What did you have in mind?” he asked.

  “Whatever you want to do to me—I trust you.”

  Jace’s heart stumbled over a beat. She’d give him the freedom to do whatever he wanted to her? He needed to get her to the tour bus. His suitcase of pleasure-inducing implements was stored in a closet there. He’d been collecting things to inflict pleasure on a deserving lover for years. And every woman he’d tried to initiate had ultimately disappointed him.

  Aggie unbuttoned the fly of his jeans. She squatted as she pushed his pants down his thighs. She placed a tender kiss on the head of his cock. It twitched, rapidly engorging, growing thick, long, and hard. Wanting to be buried in her voluptuous body—in her slick warmth—where it belonged.

  Aggie wandered over to her table and selected a paddle. She turned to look at him and winced when her gaze fell on his back. “You’re really bruised,” she murmured. She moved to stand behind him and traced the thick bands of damage along his upper back. “The cane. Why didn’t you tell me I was doing that much damage to you? I would have stopped.”

  “I didn’t want you to stop. I needed it.”

  “I’m not hitting you with a cane again,” she said. “You’ll have to settle for a good paddling this evening.” She kissed his shoulder and circled his body to face him. She caressed his bare buttocks and then struck him on its fleshy cheek with her paddle.