“Yep.”
“In bed?”
“Yep.”
“Oh my god.” He rolled them both over until he was looming over her. “My turn.” The smile matched the humor.
“Oh? And what are you going to do?” She stretched like a cat beneath him, but he was the one who purred.
“Why, I’m going to strip those boots off. And that bra and those panties.” His voice grew deeper. “And then I’m going to wreck you as hard as you wrecked me.”
“That... Yes. That.” More than anything else, she wanted to shout this man’s name when she came. “Then I want you to fuck me.”
“With pleasure.” He stole a kiss, then set about doing exactly as he’d intended.
Pleasure it was, too. Raw and uninhibited, and she screamed his name more than once. When they finally wore each other out, it was later than she wanted to think about. They both dragged themselves out of bed to clean up, then fell right back into it.
As she was drifting off, a thought had her wide awake and struggling to sit up. “I left Marly in my room.”
David grunted in dismay. “He’s just a bear.” He didn’t sound any more convinced of that than she did.
“You’re going to think I’m silly, but I don’t know if I can sleep, knowing he’s all alone up there.”
“Don’t think you’re silly at all. He’s my bear and I haven’t been without him in years.” David spoke the words against her back.
“I’ll go.”
He caught her around the waist. “Baby, no. You only have your dress. Give me your keycard. I’ll throw on shorts and a tee and be back down before you know it.” He paused. “I don’t think I could sleep without him, either.”
They crawled out of bed. Mish extracted her card from her clutch and handed it to David, who somehow managed to look sexy in a pair of black gym shorts and an olive-green tee. He nudged her toward the bed. “Relax.”
He slipped out the door of the room. Maybe they were both childish in this, but a talisman was a talisman. She crawled back in bed, her body aching in pleasant ways and her mind buzzing with the memories of David’s arching back, when he came, and the taste of him. How he teased and kissed every inch of her skin. How full she’d been when he’d fucked her.
If they hadn’t pushed each other to the brink of pleasure a few times, she might even have been turned on, but exhaustion made another round impossible. The sleepy high was nice, though.
True to his word, David was back quickly, Marly tucked in his arm. He handed the bear to Mish, undressed, and crawled into bed, once more wrapping his arms around her. Usually she was the bigger spoon, but she liked this.
“Hey, is it okay if I hold Marly?”
“Course.” David’s voice was slurred but happy, and his breath warm against the back of her neck. “I do sometimes, when I need to.”
She didn’t ask why. The dog tags on the bear were explanation enough.
Mish pressed back into David and snugged Marly under her chin.
Chapter Fourteen
Way the heck too early the next morning—and after a round of coffee that wasn’t as good as Adrian’s—the seven of them piled into a luxury mini bus, the kind David usually saw used as party buses. Thing was huge. “This is less obtrusive than a stretch limo?”
Marcella gave him a look. “It’s easier to maneuver and park, and yes—less obtrusive. Plenty of vans and small buses out there, especially in the mornings. Ride shares. Trips to the airport.”
“Not like we’re going to have the party lights and be dancing around one of those poles,” Ray quipped.
Zavier got a wicked grin. “I think I’d enjoy you pole-dancing.”
That earned him a snort from Ray. “Oh, I’m sure you would.”
Mish grabbed a pole and rotated around it. “I worked as a stripper early on, you know.”
Something tumbled in David, even as the others chuckled. Mish must have seen his expression, because she raised an eyebrow. “This you have a problem with?”
Even though her tone had been gentle, it itched across his mind, and he was brought right back to his initial shock of emotion.
David took a seat on the couches that lined the bus. “No, not at all. I’m sure you were spectacular.” He hadn’t known this little fact about her, even after running a background check on her. “Was this before or after you changed your name?” There was a certain possessiveness to Mish’s stalker, in the way that asshole thought he owned her.
Mish froze, then sank onto the couch across from him. “Before, right after I turned eighteen. With the cancer treatments, Mom was having a hard time working, and it seemed the quickest legal way to make some money. I couldn’t risk getting jailed for turning tricks or escorting. Though I did think about that.”
Marcella rubbed her neck. “That’s a lot to handle at eighteen.”
Zavier looked thoughtful. “I’ve done sex work. There is that risk, for sure. You’re right—a barely legal woman attracts more attention from the cops.”
“This bus ride is turning into a confessional,” Adrian said.
Ray shook his head. “I don’t think anyone here feels guilty, Adrian.”
“Granted,” Marcella said. “But let’s keep this part of your collective pasts out of the limelight, yes? I have no issues, but the scandal sites would have a field day.”
There were general agreements about that. Throughout the conversation, Mish’s gaze never left David’s. “You think this guy knows me from that? I only stripped for about six months, until our finances settled out and I was getting gigs singing in bars and could switch paths.”
“I don’t know.” It was an honest reply. “I still get the sense that this is personal. That he knows you from somewhere that isn’t Twisted Wishes. And while your high school photo isn’t anything like your image now, I bet your look while stripping was closer to Mish Sullivan, the rock star.”
She frowned in thought. “Yeah, I carried some of that over to the musical stage. It was empowering.”
“I want to ring that fucker’s neck.” The words were low and harsh, and it took David a moment to realize that Dom had spoken them. He was Domino now, all leather-clad and spike hair, with makeup that was on point and so unlike the man Dom was in his off time.
The depth of anger was out of character, though.
“Sweetheart,” Mish murmured.
Dom’s eyes were pools of fury. “I’m not kidding. If I knew who this guy was, I’d hunt him down and strangle him myself. No one fucking deserves what you’re going through. Even the goddamned press is more respectful than this fucking fucker.”
Given Dom’s loathing of the public spotlight and the press, that was saying a lot. While all of Twisted Wishes was salty with the language, he’d never heard Dom string together that many curses in a row.
“Babe.” Adrian’s voice was soft. “Please don’t kill anyone. You might look good in orange, but that’s going a bit far for fashion.” He rubbed circles on Dom’s back.
Dom bristled, but softened. “I just want Mish to be safe.”
“I love you all, but I don’t need your protection.”
“Yeah, you do,” Marcella chimed in. “And don’t you give me any lip, Ms. Sullivan. I’m immune to your charms.”
“You are so not,” she purred. “After all, I did manage to get you into a bikini that one trip.”
Marcella opened, then closed her mouth. “Okay, I’m not entirely immune,” she amended. “But the statement stands. You need protection. Ray needs it. And Dom.” She eyed Zavier. “You—even you need someone watching your back from time to time.”
“We all need friends and family,” Zavier said.
“The Zavier Demos motto.” Mish leaned against the couch. “Thank you for caring. It’s not like I don’t appreciate it, but shouldn’t we be worried about this
damn radio interview?”
David thought she had a point, but Ray snorted. “We can do radio interviews in our sleep.”
“You have done them in your sleep,” Marcella muttered, and David couldn’t help laughing.
“Hey now.” Mish met him with a smile. “No taking sides.”
“No sides when it’s the truth, darling.”
“He’s got you there, Mish.” Ray swung his legs over Zavier’s lap and lay down on the couch.
Zavier locked an arm around Ray’s legs. “If you roll off this thing when we go around a curve and knock your head, you only have yourself to blame.”
Ray grinned.
The antics continued until they pulled into the station parking lot. There were a few fans there—how did they know? David cast Marcella a glance.
“Oh, the station’s been hyping this for weeks. But it’s early enough in the morning, and on a weekday, figured it shouldn’t be an issue.”
It was just after six—their interview was for seven. It was a wonder the band had energy this time of morning. Then again, the day off had done them all wonders.
After signing a few items, the band made their way into the studio, Marcella leading. David strode next to Adrian. “You ever feel like a groupie?”
That got him a laugh. “Never. I didn’t know who Dominic was when I met him, so it wasn’t like I was pining over the band. Just Dominic Bradley. Who turned out to be in the band.” Adrian held his gaze. “You?”
“No, but sometimes I do feel like I’m an extra.”
Adrian clapped him on the back. “Dude, you’re not. And you’re doing a more important job than I am at the moment.”
Wasn’t so sure about that, but David let it go. They’d warmed to him at the pool, pulled him in, had kept him in their family. His relationship—or whatever it was—with Mish left him unsettled from a professional standpoint. Didn’t help, though, that he was the last one through the door as they marched in.
That station security was tight, including metal detectors. He raised his eyebrow at the guard on duty. “This necessary?”
In return, the guard gave him an impassive stare. “We had an incident with a shock jock get out of hand at one point.”
Fucking hell. That was just great. Volatile listeners and employees. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone sneaking into the station.
After meeting with the morning show personalities, the producer, and the station manager to go over the ground rules, David, Adrian, and Marcella were ushered into a small room with a clear view across the hall from the studio where the band was setting up with the radio hosts. Mics. Earphones. They were given all the expected things, and donned them like they’d done this a million times.
They probably had. This wasn’t their first tour—just their biggest and in support of their latest album.
Mish’s gaze snagged on his and she blew him a kiss. He gave a small wave back, heat rising up his neck. Adrian clapped him on the back again and Marcella grinned.
“What?” he said to both of them.
“Nothing.” Marcella’s humor belied that.
“You guys are adorable.” That from Adrian. David elbowed him gently in the ribs before he could even think about it. Adrian laughed outright. “See? Family.”
Marcella made an agreeable noise.
He would have said more, but there was a flurry of activity in the studio, and a check of the clock showed it close to the top of the hour. Interview time.
There was a goofy intro to the morning show, then the hosts acted upbeat and irreverent before they introduced Twisted Wishes. The band all gave a round of hellos, and from the smiles, everything was going the way it should. Songs were played. Commercials. The hosts asked several questions about the new album.
One host, Morning Coffee Clark, turned to Zavier. “This is your first album as a member of Twisted Wishes. How’d it go? Were you prepared? How’d it feel?”
That led to a very amused laugh from the drummer. “It was a phenomenal experience, of course it was.”
There was a general murmur of agreement from the rest of the band.
“As for being prepared, touring before recording helped, my relationship with Ray notwithstanding.” He paused. “And it felt good. Kevin Schmidt was a great drummer, extremely competent, but our styles are different, so it was nice to get into the studio and make my own mark on the sound.”
“Beyond the one you made touring,” Ray said.
“Well, yes.” Zavier’s smile was sharp and personal and aimed at Ray.
Questions about the album continued, then they turned to Domino’s reveal of his non-persona side.
“So what was that like?” asked the other host—Amy in the AM, if David recalled her moniker correctly. She had a mellow voice that was smooth, with a hint of sultry. “Letting the fans see behind the mask?”
Domino—in his makeup—never lost that sharp edge to his smile. “It’s not a mask.” His voice was not nearly as smooth as the hosts’. There was a gravel in it David hadn’t heard before. “It’s part of who I am, as much as my more private life is.” The bark of Domino’s laugh was normal, though. “After all, it’s not like I could dress like this at a desk job. I get to wear what I want, when I want. Leather, glitter, and all.”
Beside him, Adrian was nodding, probably unconsciously. “You tell ’em, babe.”
There was a little more banter about glitter getting everywhere and whether the band shared makeup—they did—before they moved on to Mish.
Clark chimed in. “Mish, these past couple of concerts, you’ve been singing with Ray! How’d that come about?”
Mish’s laugh was deep and David sat up straighter to cover the growing heat in his body.
“I began my career singing and playing in bars. That’s how Ray found me. But many of our earlier songs weren’t in my range—”
“Or were me musically yelling into the mic,” Ray chimed in.
Mish nodded, though no one listening on air could see that. “Exactly, so they weren’t right for my voice. But ‘Finding Light’ is one I sing along with all the time when we practice—”
“And I’m not a fool,” Ray said.
“Honey, sometimes you are.”
There was laughter from all the band and the hosts.
“Fine, I’ll grant you that,” Ray said.
Mish looked through the hall and met David’s gaze, the giant black headphones stark against her copper curls. “Sometimes we try new things. This one worked.”
This one worked. Yeah, they worked. David worked with the band. Still, a voice said that getting in this deep would make Mish vulnerable.
“Ray, are you going to write a song for Mish?” Amy asked.
The whole band shifted in their seats. “Been toying with the idea.” Ray’s voice had a slyness to it.
Mish’s smile was just as sneaky. “We’ll see.”
“I can see we’re not going to get more about that!” Clark had one of those performer smiles, the ones that lifted your voice but were too exaggerated to be real. “Let’s play ‘Dare to Be’ from your album, and when we come back, we’ll take a few calls from listeners.”
The hosts rattled off the phone number to call, then music started.
“So far, so good,” Marcella said.
Adrian slumped back in his chair. “I hate when they ask Dominic about masks.”
“Hits close to the bone?” The unveiling of Domino Grinder had been in all the entertainment magazines before they’d moved on to other scandals and news, and Adrian had been tangled up in all of that—as Domino Grinder’s secret boyfriend. Dom’s romantic rescue of Adrian from in front of their practice studio had spun across the internet—and changed Adrian’s life. For the better, it seemed to David.
“No—well, yes.” Adrian shoved a hand throug
h his hair. “We all wear masks. I wore suits to work every day. They put me in a different headspace, but I wasn’t another person.” He waved at the studio. “Dominic is still Dominic.”
David grunted. “They’re all themselves. We get to see more of that behind the scenes. And you see even more with Dom.”
Adrian’s lips quirked. “Could say the same about you and Mish.”
Marcella clicked her tongue. “Let’s keep that under our hats, shall we?” There was no one else in the room, but that was a damn good reminder that though the photo of Mish tossing him into the pool was out there, they hadn’t discussed how they were going to handle the press. Was David going to be known as more than the band’s guard? Would they play those photos off as general band horseplay?
Both he and Adrian settled down into silence as the Twisted Wishes song wound down and they went to commercials.
“This is the tricky part,” Marcella murmured. “Let’s hope we get a good batch of callers.”
“Don’t they screen them?” David glanced at the studio, then to Marcella.
“Of course. But once the caller is live—all bets are off.”
Well, shit. Guess that made sense from the little time he’d spent listening to morning radio shows. They sat and waited until the commercials were over and the show started again. The hosts led in and they got ready to take their first caller.
Every member of the band was tense now, more focused—which meant that these calls had been issues before.
“What happened in the past?” He didn’t look away from Mish or how high her shoulders were and how taut her mouth.
But Marcella was right there with him in thought. “Personal stuff. Asking about sex. Or Ray and Zavier’s marriage—prying questions.”
Right. That would bug the shit out of everyone.
The first question, though, was a gushing fan who wanted to know how they decided what songs to play on tour.
David had seen that—it was a group decision. Led by Ray, yes, but with a ton of input and ideas tossed around until they were all happy with the results. They had a base list of songs and swapped ones in and out, mixing up the sets. Kinda drove the techs working the concert up a tree, but they were used to it by now.
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