Matt pulled her to his chest and cradled her face. “No, he’s concerned Tony won’t like us together.”
“My brother doesn’t get to have an opinion.”
“I’ve been friends with Tony for most of my life, and you’re his baby sister. He loves you.” Matt caressed her cheeks. “He’s going to have one.”
“It won’t be good.”
“It’ll be fine, baby, I promise.”
Then his lips were on hers. Slipping his tongue inside her mouth, fingertips skated down her spine and up her bare back to grab a fistful of hair at her nape. Matt pulled on it and pushed her into the lounge at the back of the bus, deepening their kiss as he went.
“You’re so beautiful. I can’t decide whether to tear this pretty dress off you or fuck you in it.” His teeth scored down her neck, a deep rumbling sound coming up from his throat. “God, I’m dying to fuck you.”
Like she wasn’t? It had been a month since she’d stood at his door with that damn pizza. Every cell in Gina’s body was screaming at her to give herself to him. She wouldn’t, though, because somehow she knew Matt didn’t want an eager offering. He needed to claim her.
“So, is this where all that legendary rock star sex happens?”
“Nope.” And catching his breath, he chuckled. “We have a rule. No fucking on the bus.”
“Seriously?”
He pulled the thin white straps down her shoulders, and exposing her breasts, Matt lowered his head to suck on her nipple.
“But some rules are made to be broken,” he rasped, sliding his hand underneath her dress. “Give me that pussy, bunny.”
His fingers felt so fucking good inside her.
“But you’ve got a show in twenty minutes.”
“And I can make you come in five.”
They couldn’t have been gone more than fifteen minutes, but in that short span of time, the vibe inside Venery’s makeshift green room had changed. An electric energy in the air, the boys weren’t chilling out on the sofas anymore. Standing by the portable air conditioner, long blond hair billowing about his face, Bo twirled a pair of drumsticks. Kit stretched his wrists while Taylor’s fingers danced over the fretboard of a silent guitar.
Only Sloan appeared unfazed. Propped against the bar, he casually sipped a glass of whiskey. “Welcome back.”
“Don’t even start, man.”
“Start what?”
Matt took the glass out of Sloan’s hand and swallowed its contents. “Just don’t.”
“I’m on your side, you know.” The singer set his gaze on Gina, then. “Believe it or not.”
Maybe he was, but she hadn’t quite forgiven him for being such a jerk, so she wasn’t altogether convinced.
Reaching into his back pocket, Sloan retrieved a small plastic bottle. He sprayed whatever it contained into his throat and tossed it to Matt.
Gina glanced up at him. “What is that?”
“Vocal Eze.”
“It coats the vocal cords. Keeps them lubricated,” Sloan explained. “Tastes like shit, but it works.”
Her nose wrinkled watching Matt’s face contort as he swallowed. “What’s in it?”
“Herbs, mostly. Ginger. Aloe vera. Honey. Glycerin.”
“But why do you need it?” she asked Matt.
