The band came out of the studio and into the sound booth. Cash put on some headphones and listened to the last track, nodding along, before he smiled and flashed a thumbs-up.
“ThankGod,” Violet said, flexing her hand. “My fingers hurt.”
“Try strumming a bass guitar,” Cash said. “My calluses have new calluses.”
“Can we get some food?” Milo asked hopefully.
“We had dinner already,” Violet said.
“Yeah, but, like, that was six hours ago. It’s pushing midnight, and drumming burns a lot of calories.”
Riot leaned in close and whispered something to Violet. She nodded, then announced, “I’m gonna go call Dana. She should still be up.” She winked at me, then left.
I frowned at Riot. “What’d you tell her?”
Riot stretched his arms over his head, then turned to me. “I told her to take a break for a while. And to text before she came back inside.”
It was late, so my brain wasn’t working very well. “Why’d you do that?”
Riot's voice cut through the dim hum of the recording studio. His dark eyes locked onto mine with that predatory gleam I knew all too well. “Because the four of us need to celebrate the end of the tour. And I'm not talking about champagne.”
The words hung in the air, thick with promise, as the last echoes of their newest track faded from the speakers. They’dpoured everything into that recording. All those late nights and the raw energy of the road.
The control room lights cast long shadows over the mixing boards, microphones, scattered cables, and other equipment. Our little private playground. My heart raced, a familiar excitement bubbling up as I took each of them in. Riot, all smoldering eyes and tattoos. Cash, coiled muscle and burning intensity. Milo, grinning like he held the punchline to the dirtiest joke.
I leaned back against the edge of the console, feeling the slight curve of my hips shift under my tight skirt. As the band's muse, I'd been their inspiration on every stop, fueling their fire.
But tonight was about releasing all the energy that had been building.
“Oh yeah?” I teased, my voice husky. “What’d you have in mind?”
“I like it when she pretends like she doesn’t know,” Milo said.
Riot stepped closer first, his broad shoulders blocking the faint glow from the hallway light. His jet-black hair was tousled from running his hands through it during the final take, and that beard framed a smirk that made my thighs clench.
He grabbed my waist, pulling me flush against him, his hard cock already pressing through his jeans.
“What I have in mind, Roxie, isyou. Spread out and screaming our names while we fuck the tour right out of you.” His hands slid down, gripping my ass firmly, kneading the flesh as he ground against me.
Before I could respond, Milo sauntered over, moving with that easy swagger of his. His hair stuck up in places from wailing on the drums all day.
“Don’t hog our muse. She's got enough curves for all of us.” He winked at me, slipping a hand under my top to trace the underside of my breast, his fingers teasing my nipple until it peaked.
Cash watched from the side with those piercing green eyes. He pushed off the wall, closing in.
“You two talk too much. Let her feel it.” His voice was low, confident, as he cupped my chin and tilted my head back for a deep kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth, tasting of coffee and the faint salt of sweat, while his free hand yanked my skirt up, exposing my lace panties.
I moaned into his mouth, the heat building fast. Riot's fingers hooked into my panties, tugging them down my legs in one swift motion.
“Look at that pretty pussy, already wet for us,” he growled, dropping to his knees. His beard scraped my inner thighs as he spread me open with his thumbs, his tongue diving in to lap at my folds. I gasped, gripping the console for support, my legs trembling as he sucked on my clit, relentless and dominating.
Milo chuckled as he stripped off his shirt. “Damn. You’re making her drip all over the floor.” He pressed against my side, his cock straining his pants as he pinched my nipple harder, rolling it between his fingers.
Cash broke the kiss, his eyes dark with hunger. He unzipped his jeans, pulling out his thick shaft, the tip glistening with pre-come.
“You know what to do,” Milo told me. “Don’t you?”
Eager to show them that I did, I bent forward and wrapped my lips around Cash’s cock. His hand tangled in my hair, guiding me with quiet grunts. Riot's tongue fucked into me, his nose rubbing up against my clit, sending sparks up my spine. Milo leaned in,capturing my other breast in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive nipple.
