Her being in town explains why Wyatt was nowhere to be found last night, and I’ve got to admit, it’s a relief. Nothing would ruin this tour faster than
“Guess you weren’t lying about this early morning thing,” Sienna says, and I look back to see her sitting up, her red hair all over her place, looking like the best kind of trouble. “Do I have time to shower or are we too late?”
“Tyler will live.” I skim my hand down the side of her face, and she shivers. “And there’s no fucking way you’re going into that bathroom without me.”
A half an hour later when we go downstairs, there’s already a car waiting out front for us—Kylie’s doing because she’s the only person besides my housekeeper and myself with the code to the gate. Once Sienna and I are securely inside and the car has started to move, I sink back in the black leather seat, squeeze my eyes shut, and let my head fall back on the headrest.
This is the first time in months that I’ve overslept, but not for a good reason. I’ve got one motherfucker of a headache. The little bit of sleep I managed to get last night was screwed over by shitty dreams. The only bright side is the twenty minutes I spent in the shower with Sienna, with my cock buried deep inside of her, and her fingernails raking a crisscross pattern across my back as we fucked against the tile wall.
Even then, even after letting go, she was still tense from arguing about Sam last night.
Automatically, the muscles in the back of my neck tighten. Fucking Samantha. She’s kept her promise to leave me alone, and yet she’s still causing me problems.
Sienna rests her hand on my chest. “You alright?” Her voice is worried. Even when she’s frustrated with me—with anyone—my needs are still first and foremost to her.
I open my eyes and take in the sight of her. “How many of the tour cities have you been to?”
Her eyebrows knit together over her blue eyes. “Did you know that you’re the most evasive, infuriating man that I’ve ever known?”
“There you go again.” I brush my thumb over her cheek, and her shoulder lifts a little. “Answer the question, Sienna. How many?”
She draws in a breath and then lets it out. “A handful,” she says. I trail my finger around the scooped neck of her tight T-shirt, and she flushes the sexiest shade of red. Staring down at her thighs, she continues, “We didn’t go on many vacations when my parents were still together. Once they got divorced, travel all but stopped. Unless you don’t count my dad’s half-assed attempt to get Seth and me to move to Maine.”
I don’t know much about Sienna’s childhood, but the few times she’s mentioned it, she almost immediately changed the subject. Hearing the disappointment in her voice—it just makes me want to protect her even more.
“I’ll take you everywhere with me.” To drive my point home, I take her hands, holding her long, slim fingers feel between mine. “As long as you don’t get tired of it and tell me to fuck off.”
Dipping her head, she presses her lips to the side of my wrist closest to her face. “I’m a travel virgin. I won’t get tired.”
Glancing up at the driver who’s eyes keep looking at the rearview mirror, I let go of her hands and touch my mouth to her ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll—” I begin, but then I realize she’s not wearing her usual apple-scented perfume today, but something else with a hint of cherry. “Fuck, you smell good enough to eat,” I whisper.
“Good luck with that on the bus.” She inclines her head to five parked buses coming into view. “Holy shit . . . you never said it was that many.”
“It’s a big tour, Red. Two buses for us, one for Wicked Lambs, and two more for the crew. We’ve moved past the days of the one bus shit.”
“That sounds so unbelievably cocky.”
“Just being honest.” I regret those words the moment I say them. Irritation flashes in her blue eyes, but she blinks and it’s gone almost as quickly as it came. Our driver slows the car to a park, and as soon as he gets out to grab our things, I take the conversation back to where I was intending to go before her scent fucked me up. To a place that’s far away from words like past and truth and honesty.
“Just so you know, your ass is mine as soon as we get on that bus, and I’m going to enjoy breaking you in to each and every new city,” I whisper, and she races her tongue over her lips. I can’t decide if it’s just nerves or to test me.
“I’m guessing that has nothing to do with sight-seeing,” she says as the driver opens the door for her. I’m right behind her, steadying her by gripping her hips so she doesn’t fall over on the bright wedge sandals that make her legs seem even longer. As I stand up, my cock brushes up against her ass, and she jerks forward, taking in a sharp gasp of air.
“That was on purpose.” Since Wyatt’s approaching us and grinning I keep my voice low enough for only her to hear me. “Like I told you in there, your ass is mine.” Her mouth is parted when she whips her head around to look at me. “You can take that however you want for now.”
“Honestly, I’m afraid to take it anyway.”
Our conversation is cut short after that because of Wyatt, who gives me about 10 excuses on why he bailed after the show last night until he finally fesses up and admits that Kylie flew in from New Orleans to spend the night with him. “I already know where you were,” I say when he’s done.
When he catches up to me, he’s shoving a cigarette into his mouth. “Then why the fuck did you let me go through all that?”
“Unlike my sister, I’m not against watching you fuck yourself into a corner every once in awhile.” We reach the second black bus with the band’s logo—a heart full of daggers—emblazoned on the side. I run my hand down Sienna’s forearm and stare down at her. “This is ours. Give me five and I’ll be up too.”
“Ours alone?
“Wouldn’t that be convenient,” Wyatt says under his breath. Pressing his fist to his mouth, he clears his throat, and adds says aloud, “You and Lucas. Whichever bus driver is on the rotation that day. Sinjin. Whoever Sin’s fucking.”
Sienna’s pink lips drag into a tight smile, causing me to debate whether or not I should punch McCrae in the mouth. “Good to see you again, Wyatt,” she says right before she climbs the bus steps. Once I hear her introducing herself to the bus driver, I face Wyatt.
“You know I’m bigger than you.”
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he nods. “Yep.”
“And that you don’t need teeth to play your goddamn guitar.”
He claps me on the shoulder, but I don’t budge. “I’m envious of you.” He stares up the bus stairs. “We all are. Now pipe the fuck down and enjoy what you have. Even if she is here to”—he grins broadly and clears his throat—“work.”
“Don’t go fucking everything with a * and maybe Kylie’ll come around.” In the past, I played ignorance and didn’t step into their relationship. That changed when they got married. “Don’t fuck her over.”
Wyatt’s still stunned into silence as I get onto the bus, but he speaks up before I’m completely out of earshot. I don’t hear his exact words because my attention is drawn to Sinjin who’s giving Sienna his hung over version of a grand tour of the bus, but I know what Wyatt’s saying.
I need to follow my own advice.