Author: Olivia Cunning

“Don’t make this worse, Sed,” Jace said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“If you write anything bad about her, I’ll fucking kill you, do you hear me?” Sed yelled at the journalist as Jace forced him to move in the general direction of his motorcycle. Several roadies and the head of Sinners’ security came out of the pigsty bus. They quickly diverted the journalist and gang of photographers so he and Jace could make their escape.

Jace climbed onto the Harley and started the ignition. It roared to life between his thighs. “Let’s go.”

Sed preferred to go kick that reporter’s ass for referring to Jessica as a prostitute, but somehow he pulled it together enough to climb on the motorcycle behind Jace and not fall off as they sped away.

As the surge of testosterone and adrenaline in his blood stream began to wane, he realized he’d told the reporter that Jessica was his fiancée. That would fix a few things, wouldn’t it? God, he hoped so.

“You okay back there?” Jace asked.

“Yeah. Just get me to the Bellagio.”

They took some less-traveled road that ran parallel to the Vegas strip and Sed found himself standing behind the hotel within minutes. “Thanks for the ride. Are you going to go see Aggie again?”

“Maybe.” Jace shrugged. He drove off before Sed could blink.

Sed had planned to ask Jace if he wanted to have a drink with him while he avoided returning to the hotel room. He wondered how pissed Jessica would be because he’d left without saying a word. If he had to guess, he’d go with excessively pissed. He stopped at a blackjack table on his way through the casino. Played a few hands. Drank one watered down Jack and Coke after another. He still wasn’t ready to return to the room. He wasn’t in the mood to get yelled at, and he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to stop caring. By the time he was drunk enough, it was close to two a.m. He cashed in his chips, surprised to find he was a couple grand ahead, and took the elevator back to their floor.

He hesitated at the door. She’d probably left immediately after he had. The room would be empty. Lonely. He’d probably never see her again.

No sense in wasting a comfortable bed though. He didn’t want to go back to the bus and sit there by himself. Or potentially get harassed by some stupid journalist again. He could go play a few more hands of cards. The dealers would keep him company.

Coward, a little voice inside his head accused. Yeah. So?

He took a deep breath, slid the keycard into the lock, and pushed the door open. The bathroom light and the lamp near the bed were still on. Together they gave off just enough light to reveal Jessica sleeping in the chair wearing nothing but a towel and a slack expression. Had she fallen asleep while waiting for him?

He put out the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, closed the door, engaged the dead bolt, and crossed the room to stand beside the chair. He watched her sleep for several moments. Her face was squashed against the chair arm and drool trickled from the corner of her mouth. Attractive? No, not really. Endearing? Completely.

He leaned forward and touched her bare shoulder. Her skin was cold as ice. How long had she been passed out in the chair?

“Jess, let me put you to bed.”

She opened her eyes and grinned sleepily when she recognized him. “Sed,” she murmured. “I was looking for you.” Her words were slurred as she spoke.

He grinned. “In the chair?”

“I hurt my toe. Sorry.” As if that explained anything.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, scooping her into his arms and carrying her toward the bed.

“For calling you an amusing toy.”

He grinned down at her as he carried her. An apology? Good enough for him. “I’m not amusing?”

“No.” She shook her head and then giggled. “I mean, yes, you are amusing. You’re not…” She sighed, her expression vacant. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she snuggled against him. “You know what I mean. I like you.” She kissed his collarbone through his T-shirt. “I like you. You.”

Well, it was a start. A far cry better than hate. “You, Ms. Chase, are very drunk.”

“Yes I am,” she agreed loudly and burst into delighted peals of laughter.

He grinned and laid her down across the bed. He tugged her towel loose and opened it, leaving her naked to his eager gaze.

“Whatchoo lookin’ at, Sedric?” she said. Giggled. Snorted. Covered her mouth with her hand and laughed again.

“The most beautiful woman in existence.”

He crawled up onto the bed and stretched out on his side beside her. He bent his elbow and rested his head on his hand, trailing the fingertips of his free hand over her belly. She shivered.

“Are you going to ravish me now, Mr. Lionheart?” she asked, her voice husky.

“Every inch of you,” he murmured and kissed her shoulder tenderly.

“It’s about time!”

She giggled again, but her smile faded as his fingertips moved along the side of her belly to the protrusion of her hipbone. He stroked the ridge there—back and forth, back and forth, watching gooseflesh rise over her skin and her nipples harden with need. He leaned forward and kissed her waiting lips. She tasted of champagne and strawberries.

He enjoyed exploring every inch of her. He used his lips, his hands, fingernails, the smooth inner surface of his forearm, his teeth, his tongue, all the various textures of his body to stimulate her skin. He began with her forehead and worked his way down to the tips of her toes. She made no protest when he turned her onto her stomach and started the process again, moving up her body from the soles of her feet to the tender spot on the back of her neck.

He paused, noticing she’d stopped moving and sighing with pleasure. He brushed her hair back from her face and found her eyes were closed.

“Jess?” He shook her shoulder and she started, snorting as she regained consciousness. “You aren’t into this, are you?”

“Feels so good I fell asleep,” she murmured. “Tired.”

“You never could hold your liquor.”

He pulled back the covers and shifted her body over to the sheet. He covered her and tucked the blanket under her chin. She snuggled into the covers and immediately went slack. The least she could have done was use him for her amusement before she passed out in a drunken stupor. Well, there was only one thing to do when faced with this level of sexual frustration.

Sed stood, stripped off his T-shirt, and dropped to the floor.

Push-ups.

Chapter 21

The next morning, after indulging in a vigorous naked yoga session to ease her mind and lure Sed between her thighs where he belonged, Jessica accompanied Sed to visit Trey in the hospital. Trey had been moved to a new room, but he wasn’t taking it lying down. He was in a heated debate with a local physician who’d taken over his care.

“There is no reason for me to stay here,” Trey told the physician. “The CT scan showed no swelling, no bleeding. I’ve already proven I can walk, use the bathroom, eat solid foods. What more do you want?” He crossed his arms over his chest. He had yet to notice them standing just inside the doorway, witnessing his tantrum; but Jessica doubted that would have altered his behavior.

“I want you to calm down, Mister Mills,” the physician said in a heavy Indian accent. “It is still quite possible for your wound to reopen and cause more internal bleeding. This is a very serious condition for you to have. You must continue with your medical care for at least three more days. Absolute minimum.”

“Three more days?” Trey banged his head back against his pillow. “I’ll die of boredom by then. I’m fine. Why won’t you believe me?” He thought for a moment, got an “aha” look on his face, and then reached for the cell phone resting on his bed tray. “I’m going to call my father. We’ll see what he says.”

Trey concentrated very hard on extending his index finger and poked several buttons before lifting the phone to his ear with an “I’ll show you” expression.

Jessica grinned to herself. The guy was totally endearing. Like the little brother everyone wanted, but was glad they didn’t have.

While Trey was manipulating his father on the phone, he noticed Jessica and Sed in the doorway. He smiled brightly and waved them into the room.

The doctor turned toward them, looking frazzled and flustered. “I hope you have come to talk some sense into your friend.”

“He didn’t have any sense to start with,” Sed said in his rumbling baritone.

“I heard that, Lionheart,” Trey said. Looking all gloaty, he said into his phone, “Yeah, okay, Dad. Whatever it takes to get me out of this place. The doctors here are quacks.”

His physician shook his head and left the room.

Jessica couldn’t believe how great Trey looked. His color was back. That spark of orneriness had returned to his emerald eyes. If it weren’t for the staples in the side of his head and the awkward way he held his hands, she could almost imagine he’d never been injured at all.

“So is your dad going to get you out of here?” Sed asked, sinking into the chair next to Trey’s bed. He tugged Jessica down to sit on his knee.

“Yeah. Thank God.”

“You look better today,” Jessica said. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad. My head is sore.”

“You’ve always been a sorehead,” Sed quipped.

“Fuck you.”

“See what I mean?” Sed chuckled. “How are your hands?”

Jessica elbowed Sed in the ribs.

Trey tucked his hands under the covers self-consciously, his smile fading into a scowl. “They’re getting better, I think.”

“That’s good. We need to get back on the road as soon as possible.”

Jessica elbowed Sed in the ribs again. The man was so oblivious of his insensitivity at times.

Sed scrunched his brows together. “What?”

She ignored him. She didn’t want to make Trey feel worse by spelling out Sed’s stupidity.

“Are you going to stay with your parents while you recover?” Jessica asked, hoping to change the subject.

Trey wrinkled his nose. “It’s the only way I could get Dad to agree to get me out of here. At least they have a pool.”

“I guess we can work in the studio while we’re waiting for you to get better,” Sed said, off in his own little future-planning world. “We can probably get everything recorded in a couple of weeks. Except your parts, Trey. Unless you want Brian to record the rhythm guitar sections for you.”

Trey looked like someone had ripped his still-beating heart from his chest, tossed it on the linoleum, and stomped on it.

“He doesn’t mean that, Trey.” Jessica climbed off Sed’s knee and grabbed his nipple, twisting and pulling hard to coax him to his feet.

“Ouch! Jesus Christ, woman. What are you doing?” Sed protested as he rose from the chair.

“I need to speak to you in the hall for a moment,” she said between clenched teeth. “Now!” She released his nipple and stalked toward the door.

“What did I do?” Sed asked, trailing after her.

When they were out of earshot of Trey’s open door, she turned to confront him. “How can you be so callous, Sed? Did you see the look on his face?”

Sed’s expression read clueless. “Huh?”

“Trey, you idiot. You hurt him. He’s been conscious for a day and you already have Brian taking over his work as rhythm guitarist on the new album. What are you thinking?”

“I didn’t mean permanently. Just for the recording.”

“The album will wait until he’s better.”

“So we’re just supposed to sit around and twiddle our thumbs while he recovers? We can’t tour without him.” He got a reflective look on his face. “Unless we can find someone to fill in for him.”