Home > Backstage Pass (Sinners on Tour #1)(43)

Backstage Pass (Sinners on Tour #1)(43)
Author: Olivia Cunning

She looked at him through half-lowered eyelids. “Let me tel you what I’d rather you drip into my bel y button.”

His thoughts shifted through various fluids he could introduce to her navel.

He covered her mouth with his hand. “Woman, don’t say things like that.” Taking her by the arm, he tugged her off the bus. She stumbled on her high-heels and he scooped her up into his arms. She laughed, hugging him around the neck as he spun around. She looked spectacular in the early morning sunshine—definitely worth missing three of hours sleep. He deposited her on the back of Jace’s motorcycle and started the engine. He handed her a helmet and put on the spare. Myrna leaned against his back, her arms circling his waist. He covered one of her hands with his and smiled. As much as this woman turned him on, he truly treasured her occasional bouts of tenderness. Her free hand slid down his bel y and clutched his belt buckle. His smile broadened. So her bouts of tenderness were extremely occasional. So what?

He drove the bike out of the parking lot and turned left in front of the expo center, sticking to the main road. When they drove past a super store, Myrna shouted, “Stop here!”

He pul ed into the parking lot. “Why here?”

“I can get everything I need here. Drop me off at the door.”

“What about breakfast?”

“You can go get breakfast while I pick up a few necessities. It shouldn’t take me long.”

He pul ed to a stop in front of the store’s main entrance. “I’l come with you.”

“It wil be faster if we split up.”

“Are you always in such a rush?” he asked.

“I want to get back to the bus and play with ketchup.”

That convinced him. Myrna held onto his arm as she climbed from the bike. She lifted her helmet’s visor and then ran her hands over her pockets. “Crap, I forgot my purse.”

Brian reached for his wal et. “Here.”

He pul ed out a chunk of cash and tried handing it to her. She shook her head. “I can’t take your money.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t. You already bought me a plane ticket and…”

She got that “I feel like a whore” look on her face that plagued her on occasion.

“Pay me back later if it wil make you feel better, but honestly, Myr, it’s not a big deal. I’ve got plenty.”

She snatched the bil s out of his hand. “I’l pay you back.” She glanced at the money in her hand. “There’s over a thousand dol ars here! Why do you carry so much cash?”

He shrugged. “I guess when you survive on a hundred bucks a month for several years, you make sure it never happens again.”

She started stuffing bil s back into his hand. “I don’t need this much.”

“Take it. Buy anything you want. But hurry up about it. I’l be back with extra ketchup packets in less than half an hour.”

She shoved the cash into the pocket of Jace’s jeans and lifted the visor on Brian’s helmet. Their helmets cracked against each other as they sought each other’s mouths. She laughed, kissed her fingertips and pressed them to his lips.

“I’l hurry,” she promised.

She dashed into the store like a woman on a mission. Brian watched her until she was safely inside and then headed for the fast food restaurant down the street. He ordered a lot of food, not sure who would be awake when they returned.

“Can I get some extra ketchup?” he asked the young woman at the window, grateful that the motorcycle visor concealed his face.

“Sure. Like how much?”

“A couple of handfuls.”

She fulfil ed his request and handed several bags of food out to him. He shifted back on the bike seat to store the food in the compartment beneath it.

After returning to the super store, he parked the bike near the entrance and waited for Myrna to come outside. People eyed him warily as they passed. Brian cracked his knuckles, amused by the wide berth they took around his threatening presence. About ten minutes later, Myrna emerged, carrying two large sacks.

“Have you been waiting long?” she asked breathlessly. “I tried to hurry.”

“I just got here.” He’d have waited an eternity.

She climbed onto the bike behind him, settling her purchases between their bodies. As they headed back to the bus, he came to loathe the shopping bags keeping Myrna’s body from pressing against his. Once inside the bus, Myrna sped toward the bedroom. Brian tossed a bag of food into Trey’s bunk and a second bag into Jace’s.

“Too early for this bul shit,” Jace grumbled.

Brian thumped him on the head. “I think you mean, thank you for thinking of my bottomless stomach, Brian.”

By the time he made it to the back bedroom, Myrna was devouring a sausage and biscuit.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” she explained, her mouth ful as she talked. “And what’s with al the ketchup?’ She pointed at the open sack sitting on the long dresser.

He grinned at her crookedly. “I can’t eat hash browns without ketchup. Before I get naked, do you want a beer?”

She pointed at her sacks of purchases. “I bought some juice.”

Brian would have liked to have a beer, but she didn’t drink and it was stil pretty early for that indulgence. “Great.”

He searched through her purchases and found several bottles of juice and a huge bottle of chocolate syrup. He held the chocolate syrup out to her, his head cocked to one side. “I don’t think that milk in the fridge is drinkable.”

She was adorable when she blushed. “I wasn’t planning on using it to make chocolate milk.”

He grinned. “Ketchup isn’t good enough for you?”

She lowered her eyes. He wondered about her sudden shyness. “I prefer chocolate.”

“I think you’l like ketchup, too.”

He handed her a bottle of juice and searched the take-out bag for a breakfast sandwich. “Why are you stil dressed?” he asked. “I thought you were going to be my plate.”

She held up one finger, stuffing the last bite of her sausage and biscuit into her mouth, and then opened her juice to take a long drink.

She fished the money he’d given her out of her pocket and handed it to him. “I owe you a hundred and twenty bucks,” she said. He tossed the money onto the dresser.

“Myr, you real y don’t have to pay me back.”

“Why not? You don’t think I can afford to?”

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