For a band that fed off the energy of the crowd, it was a huge buzzkill. Riot still gave a great performance, but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Even Milo seemed downright subdued behind his drum set.
“They can’t all be bangers,” Riot said with a shrug after the show. “Just got to shake it off and think about the next show.”
“Philly will rock,” Milo announced. “They know how to appreciate us.”
The East Coast cities indeed did not disappoint: Philadelphia, New York, and Boston were each better than the last, with fans screaming and stretching out their hands toward the stage like worshipers at the foot of a prophet.
We had a hotel in Boston, and this time Cash gave me my own room and bunked up with Milo. I protested to a polite degree,but eventually accepted with the knowledge that this would make things easier for Riot and me.
And oh, how it wasworth it.
Three nights in the Boston hotel meant three nights of naughty fun without any time limit to inhibit us. We were like gluttons that were ending a fast, devouring each other with a hunger that we both felt deep within our bones.
Rough, hard, passionate, and slow. Sensual one night, then filthy the next. We had sex in every imaginable way, to every possible degree, until by the third night I was too sore to continue.
“Probably for the best,” Riot said while we stretched out in bed, allowing the hotel air conditioning to cool our sweaty bodies. “I don’t think I have a drop of body fluid remaining.”
“Really?” I asked. “You’ve only come… six times in the past three nights?”
“Eight,” Riot corrected. “We had sex four times on Wednesday, twice last night, and twice tonight.”
“There’s no way we had sex four times on Wednesday.”
He started counting on his fingers. “A quickie right after checking in, before going to dinner. Then immediately after dinner. Then again an hour later…”
“That’s only three!”
“The fourth time was in the middle of the night,” he insisted. “You woke me up around midnight to grind your ass against me, and I tugged your panties to the side and fucked you like that.”
“Ohh yeah,” I said with a giggle. “I forgot about that. But I wasn’t trying to grind against you. I just wanted to cuddle.”
“You wanted my cock to cuddle the inside of your pussy.”
I laughed against his chest. “I really didn’t. But I’m glad you took it the wrong way.”
“I’ve never been good at reading body language.” He sighed. “Too bad we leave Boston tomorrow.”
“You mean too bad we’re leaving this hotel room?”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe we’ll get some alone time on the bus,” I suggested.
“I like a quickie,” he said with a grin. “I bet I can make you come in under a minute.”
“I’d like to see you try,” I said. “I’ll have a good time whether you succeed or not.”
We hit the road the next morning, but I was already counting down the days until our Chicago concert, which was the next time we would get to stay in a hotel. To distract myself from Riot’s sexy form stalking up and down the tour bus, I spent more time trying to get to know the other members of the band.
Cash was still burying his nose in a book whenever we had a few minutes of downtime. The way he lounged on the loveseat, one arm propped up behind his head and his legs stretched out, reminded me of a philosopher king. Quiet, competent, intelligent—and totally sexy.
Eventually I downloaded the audio version of what he was reading and listened to it while working on the band posters for the next few cities.
“I just finished that,” I told him while we were parked outside the venue in Toronto. “Fantastic book, but it kind of fizzled out at the end.”
He blinked in surprise, then looked at his book. “You read this?”
“I listened to the audiobook sped-up, but yeah.”
