Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Noah twisted his head to look at me. “You’re getting better and better at this.”
My smile was barely there. “Give me a hard one.”
Lee was in the kitchenette, popping the top of an energy drink. “‘Smoke on the Water.’”
My nose bunched as I scoffed. “Deep Purple. I said a hard one, Lee.”
“‘Sweet Child o’ Mine,’” called out Connor. He was watching TV and strumming on his acoustic.
“Oh,” I muttered. I knew this. “Ah.” I did. It was just taking a while to come to me. I clicked my fingers and clucked my tongue. “I know this. Give me a sec.” And then, finally, I grinned victoriously, and called back, “Guns N’ Roses!”
I heard Connor’s smile. “Good girl.”
“I got one for ya, Emmy,” Hell uttered, tapping a drumbeat on the small table and I could see Noah was starting to get annoyed with him. “‘I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll.’”
This was on my playlist just the day before. Without hesitating, I stated, “Britney Spears,” and in the distance, Connor’s guitar twanged off key.
Silence, and then he yelled, “Stop the bus!” before getting up and charging me.
My body was already shaking in silent laughter and when he reached me, pulling me up and throwing me over his shoulder, a rumble of male chuckles followed.
“It was a joke!” I gripped the bottom of his shirt and held on as he stomped down the length of the bus.
He walked me to the driver’s door and slammed a fist on it. “Yo, Dean. Stop the bus.” Reaching up, he smacked my ass. Hard. “We got us a poser up in here and she needs to be let off.”
“I was joking!” I tittered. “It was a joke!”
From the driver’s door came, “Fuck off, Connor,” and my laughter turned into sheer hilarity.
Connor let me slide off his shoulder and he glared at me. “I can’t believe you said the B-word on this bus.”
The B-word? “Britney Spears?”
Throwing a hand over my mouth, he looked around then whisper-hissed, “Shut up! The Rock gods will hear you and punish us.” He peered up at the ceiling of the bus and held my mouth clamped shut. “She didn’t mean that, sirs! She’s just a funny girl.”
Struggling out of his hold, my cheeks hurt from smiling. “C’mon, it was a joke. I know the original was sung by Joan Jett.”
Connor folded his arm across his chest and his eyes narrowed. “Joan Jett and who?”
My smile increased. “The Blackhearts.”
“Ooh.” Connor shook his head, sucking in a long breath between his teeth. “You’re lucky.” He looked stressed out and that make me chuckle. “Don’t ever say the B-word again, not on this bus. Pure fucking blasphemy.”
When he walked away, waving a dismissing hand in my direction, my smile turned sad and I tried not to think about the fact that we only had twelve days left on tour.
I internally sighed.
What happened after that was anyone’s guess.
The knock at my hotel room door had me jumping up out of bed. As soon as I opened it, Connor walked in and I shut the door behind him.
With only the soft illumination from the bedside lamp, it took me a second to notice but when I did, I could see he didn’t look like himself. The stress on his face was evident. He looked anxious and restless, and I wondered where it had come from.
He paced the room, his head down, chewing his thumbnail.
“What’s wrong?”
But he only shook his head. His jaw was tight, sharp enough to cut through diamond.
He continued to pace and, after a moment, turned his frantic eyes on me. “Distract me?”
I blinked at him. Okay. I could do that. Before I really thought about what I was saying, I uttered a quiet, “I-I watched porn last night.”
Well.
That got his attention.
He stilled and a slow grin formed on his lips. “Do tell.”
I was relieved to see the Connor I had grown to love return to me. “It’s not the first time I’ve watched it,” I revealed with a slight blush. I averted my eyes, and admitted, “It was okay.”
Connor took a step toward me. “Baby. It was okay?” He chuckled. He took another step, then another. His eyes became hooded with desire and when he reached down between my legs to gently cup me, my breathing turned choppy, and he asked a soft, “Did it make you wet?”
It was hard to keep my eyes open. My body had turned to jelly. So I simply nodded.
Connor closed his eyes. His grip on me tightened, his sudden need causing my nipples to bead. He growled, “I need to make you come.”
I wanted that. Really, I did. But my mouth opened and I said something Connor did not expect. “I want to have sex.” When his eyes snapped up, I swallowed hard and added a shaky, “T-tonight.” I ended on, “Please,” because it was only polite.