Rock Star Romance Ultimate: Volume 1 Read online

  He was close enough to feel her body heat and inhale the sweet fragrance of her fruity shampoo. He wondered if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

  “For the record,” Logan said in her ear as he pointed toward her notes, “I was the one with the big dick.”

  Toni leaped from the sofa as if it were on fire. Her gaze darted from one guy to the next, and she pushed her glasses up her nose with the back of her wrist. God, he wanted to take those glasses off, take those clothes off, and do things to her. Naughty, devious, delicious things.

  “Um . . .”

  The twin bumps poking against her shapeless turtleneck drew Logan’s attention. Hard nipples? Did his crassness turn her on? That was all the encouragement he needed to behave inappropriately. Visible nipples also meant that her bra was not padded. There was so much win in that, he should have her name engraved on a trophy.

  “What’s wrong?” Logan asked. “I won’t bite. But I will nibble. And suck. And lick.”

  She stared at him with her mouth agape and her eyes wide. Her nipples strained against her sweater, begging him to do all those things and more to the tips of those luscious melons.

  She glanced down at her tits and immediately crossed her arms over her chest. “Is, um, there a bathroom I can use?”

  “At the back of the bus,” Dare said, nodding his head toward the end of the corridor.

  “Don’t take a dump in there,” Steve said. “We stop at rest areas to do that business.”

  Face flaming, she sucked in a deep breath, turned, and sprinted to the back of the bus. She fumbled with the closet door and when it popped open, a stack of towels that had shifted during transit tumbled out and pummeled her in the face.

  Logan climbed to his feet to rescue her. He decided to take it easy on her for the moment. He wouldn’t want to traumatize her so much she decided to leave. They both bent to pick up the same towel at the same time and bumped heads. They jerked apart and rubbed their heads in unison. Toni looked up at him, her brown, doe-like eyes watery with tears. He wasn’t sure if they were tears of pain or humiliation, but seeing them in her eyes did strange things to his chest. He wasn’t sure why it was suddenly tight.

  “It’s okay,” he said, deciding that though it was fun to tease her, he’d better tone it down a bit. She obviously wasn’t used to it, and he didn’t want to harass a woman who wasn’t receptive to provocative flirting. He hadn’t intended to upset her, just wanted to have a little fun and get under that conservative skirt of hers. “I’ll get the towels, Toni. You go ahead and do your business.” He opened the bathroom door for her.

  She lowered her hand from her forehead to reveal a large reddened bump.

  Logan winced and leaned forward to press his lips to the lump. She sucked a startled breath into her chest. Shit. There he went crossing the line again.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “I always kiss boo-boos.”

  “I have a pimple on my ass that needs kissing,” Steve called.

  Logan closed his eyes and shook his head. “One of the things you should consider stressing in your book is how little fucking privacy a man has while on tour with his band.”

  “I can include that,” she said, “but I think fans are more interested in the size of your dick.” She backed into the bathroom. “I know I am.” She bit her lip before closing the door in his face.

  CHAPTER THREE

  * * *

  Toni knew she had about two minutes to compose herself, or the band was going to think she was taking a dump and smelling up the bus. She wouldn’t want to break such an important rule right off the bat. Why was she so off her game? Probably because she’d never expected to be hit on by a man so far out of her league. She cringed at her train of thought. What was with the baseball analogies? She didn’t even watch sports.

  But she couldn’t figure out why the band’s bassist kept hitting on her. Not only was Logan Schmidt rich and famous, he was ridiculously gorgeous with all that thick golden curly hair and those sexy blue eyes. And those lips. Dear lord, he’d kissed her bare skin. Yes, it had been her forehead, but it had been skin, by God. Logan must be toying with her for the sheer amusement of watching her behave like a gooftacular reject. There was no other explanation. She relieved her bladder and flushed the toilet before gazing at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands in a marble sink. As she expected, she hadn’t suddenly spawned supermodel good looks. Her mouth was too wide, dirt-brown eyes too big, dull brown hair too frizzy, glasses too thick, style too lacking for a man like Logan Schmidt to afford her a second glance.

  She wasn’t going to let him make fun of her, though. She had to earn their respect as a professional. She was here to do a job, not get hard nipples just because some rock god brushed up against her and told her his dick was big. She checked her chest to make sure her high beams were under control, straightened her spine and exited the bathroom. She hadn’t expected Logan to still be in the hall shoving towels back into the linen closet. Her hand moved automatically to her forehead—the memory of his lips brushing against her skin had her belly quivering.

  “Do you need an icepack?” he asked, his eyes trained on the lump on her head.

  “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

  “He’s got a head like a brick,” Steve said. He was standing a few steps away at a small refrigerator with the door wide open. He grabbed a beer and closed the door.

  “Tell me about it,” she said.

  “Would you like a beer?” Steve asked, tilting a brown bottle in her direction.

  “Maybe later. Right now, I’m on duty.”

  “So tell us more about this book,” Steve pressed. “What are we supposed to contribute?”

  Max and Dare joined the little huddle in the corridor near the bunks. Four rock stars watched her expectantly. Her deodorant was certainly demonstrating its worth tonight. She’d have to remember to apply twice her usual amount for the rest of her assignment.

  “Basically, you just need to be yourselves. The book is intended to be a candid look into your lives.”

  “Smile!” Logan sang. “You’re on candid camera.”

  Toni laughed. “I promise not to play practical jokes on you.” She made the mistake of looking at Logan. He completely shattered her concentration. If she shifted her body a few inches, she could discover firsthand what it felt like to be pressed against that hard chest. More than anything, she wanted to bury her hands in the silky-looking loose curls of his hair and taste his lips.

  “It’s going to be hard to be ourselves knowing someone is watching us twenty-four seven,” Max said. His deep voice was like cool satin caressing the back of Toni’s neck. His singing voice was phenomenal and his speaking voice was equally remarkable. It might have been the only sound on the planet that could have broken Logan’s spell over her.

  She forced her gaze to Max. He was scowling reflectively.

  “Hopefully, after a few days you’ll forget I’m here,” she said.

  “Doubtful,” Logan said.

  The bus lurched unexpectedly, and the driver cursed at whoever had cut him off. “Learn how to drive, asshole!”

  Toni took a step backward to regain her balance and bumped into Logan, who was still standing directly behind her. He grabbed her hips to steady her, but there was nothing steadying about the man’s hands on her hips. Or the progressively hardening cock prodding her in the ass. From the feel of it, his dick really would run those android makers out of materials.

  Instead of pulling away, she relaxed against him. He tensed and shifted her hips a fraction of an inch.

  “Fuck, woman,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t encourage me. I’m having a hard enough time trying to convince myself that you’re off limits.”

  She was starting to think he really was attracted to her and not just toying with her for his personal amusement.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

  “Huh?” Why would he ask her that?

  “A big, mean-as-fuck, jealous
guy who will break my neck with his bare hands if he knew I touched you?”

  Toni shook her head.

  “A raging case of herpes?”

  “Of course not!”

  “You’re not making this any easier on me.”

  On him? What about her? She was pretty sure the other band members could hear his whispered questions. They’d definitely heard her blurted reply. She gave herself a shake to clear her thoughts and attempted to ignore the man behind her. Slim chance of that happening.

  “I’ll also need to interview each of you,” she said to the rest of the band, who were watching the two of them with expressions ranging from amusement to bewilderment to annoyance.

  “Tonight?” Steve asked. “Probably not a good idea. I’m a bit out of it after a show.”

  “You’re always out of it,” Logan said.

  “Sorry, but I need to crash immediately,” Dare said, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. “It’s been an exhausting day and we have another full day tomorrow.” He ticked off events on one hand. “Radio interview, sound check, meet and greet, concert, after-party.” He ran out of fingers, so he waved his hands as if looking for extra digits. “And I might need to take a piss in there somewhere.”

  “You don’t have time to take a piss, Dare,” Logan said.

  “Did Sam forget to schedule piss breaks again? Fuck,” Steve grumbled. “Better start saving our beer bottles. Fair warning, Toni. Never drink out of an open bottle around here.”

  “Eww.” She crinkled her nose.

  Dare offered Toni a half smile. His piercing green eyes threatened to melt her into a puddle on the floor. This guy’s presence . . . Just wow.

  “Why don’t we start the interviews Monday? We’ll have a long boring drive that day followed by two nights in a hotel. We should be more ourselves then.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Toni said. “I want you to be comfortable. I intend for this book to reflect what wonderful men you are.”

  Logan chuckled. “I think you have us mistaken for some other band.”

  She shook her head. “No mistake.”

  Toni glanced at the bunks on either side of the corridor. There were only four of them. “So I guess I get to sleep on the couch?”

  “Butch sleeps on the couch,” Logan said.

  “The floor?” She curled her nose. No telling what kinds of things were on that floor. It looked clean, but bacteria were microscopic. She was certain there were innumerable germs embedded in that low-pile carpet.

  “You’ll sleep with me,” Logan said. “You have no other choice.”

  Toni assessed each member of the band. “Actually, I have three other choices.”

  Steve laughed. “Ouch! I think you’ve just been rejected, Lo.”

  “Not necessarily,” Toni said. “I just like to keep my options open.” As if even one of these guys would consider her an option. Right, Toni . . . Keep dreaming.

  “There’s a sectional sofa in the back lounge,” Max said. “Reagan sleeps on it when she’s not jumping Trey’s bones on Sinners’ bus. You’re welcome to sleep there.”

  Logan’s hands covered her ears. “Don’t tell her that,” he said. “I’m making my move here.”

  Toni laughed. She was used to being the brunt of jokes. She’d learned long ago that the best way to protect her feelings was to join in on the fun.

  “Maybe there’s room on that sectional for two,” she said.

  “We’ll make room.”

  Logan spun her around and escorted her to the back of the bus. Next to the bathroom was a set of sliding doors she hadn’t noticed earlier. They were black and shiny and if not for the latches and the seam between them, they would have looked like a solid wall. Logan lifted the latches and slid the doors open to reveal a royal-blue semicircular sectional that ran the entire perimeter of the room. Several guitars hung on the wall above it. Toni stepped into the lounge, her gaze locking on a worn Flying V guitar. In her research, she’d read that Dare Mills used an old Flying V to compose the guitar music for Exodus End. She gaped at the instrument, wondering if it was Dare’s legendary guitar. How many amazing and famous songs had been created in this small space on that unassuming instrument?

  “Is this where—”

  The sound of the doors sliding shut behind her made her heart skip a beat. She turned, thinking Logan had left without even telling her good night, but he was standing just inside the closed doors, looking more like a lion than a wolf with that golden hair, but she was definitely feeling like a feast of lamb.

  “This is where,” he said.

  She’d wanted to ask if this was where the band composed music while on tour, but the words caught in her throat. Why was he looking at her like she was a seven-course meal that he was about to devour? All those things he’d said—the innuendos, the come-ons—he’d been teasing her, right? Like the few guys in her past. Getting her hopes up and then reminding her that she was merely friend material.

  Logan took two steps forward, and she found herself wrapped in his arms. Before she could grasp how wonderful it felt to be held by a strong man, Logan’s mouth claimed hers and she was lost.

  This was not her first kiss, but it was the first time a man feasted upon her mouth as if his life depended on it. His fingers delved into her hair to tilt her head just so. His tongue brushed her upper lip, and her bones melted.

  In her inexperience, she wasn’t sure how to reciprocate, so she merely accepted his kiss, allowing him to coax her mouth open and slide his tongue against hers. She writhed her hips when an unbearable throb stirred between her thighs. Logan murmured encouragement against her lips when her tormented motions stroked the hard ridge in his jeans.

  Did he really want her? It sure felt like it.

  Her trembling hand sought the hard evidence of his desire where it rested between their bodies. She half expected him to tell her not to touch him. She definitely didn’t expect him to deftly release the buttons of his fly and fill her hand with thick, hot cock. His most private, bare flesh pressed against her palm. Oh, it was so hot. And smooth. And hard.

  A distracting throb between her legs had her tugging awkwardly at his length. Toni’s face flamed. She didn’t even know this man and here she stood with his tongue in her mouth and his cock in her hand. A cock she had no idea what to do with. She’d seen some in pictures and watched a few in action in some second-rate online pornography, but had never actually touched one. Not that she hadn’t wanted to; the opportunity had never presented itself. It was presenting itself in abundance now.

  He shifted slightly, and everything went dark when he lifted her sweater over her head and tossed it aside. His hands skimmed her bare shoulders as his gaze settled on the tops of her breasts spilling from the top of her black demi-bra.

  “Even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said.

  Did he really mean that? She’d never had a man look at her as if she were desirable. Never felt remotely beautiful until that moment.

  His fingers touched the center of her back, and her bra came unfastened. He obviously knew what he was doing, and she wanted him to keep doing whatever it was he had in mind. Kissing. Making out. Sex. Yes. She was ready for any and all of it. When would she ever have an opportunity like this again? Probably never.

  He slipped her bra down her arms and tossed it aside. His hands moved to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over their hardened nipples.

  “I love big tits,” he said. “I could suck on yours for hours.”

  She cringed at his use of the word tits, but suck sounded like a good plan. “Yes,” she whispered, “suck them.”

  “Are you just going to hold it all night?” he asked.

  Hold it? Hold what? Oh . . . it! She tightened her hand around his penis. What was she supposed to do with it? She’d heard that guys liked to be sucked down there. And stroked. But she had no idea how to do either of those things without looking like the virgin she was.

  “Tell me what you like,” sh
e said.

  “What I like?”

  “Yeah, I want to please you.” Did that sound too needy? She gazed up at him, hoping to look sexy but figuring she probably looked desperate.

  “Sucking your big, beautiful tits will please me plenty.”

  He backed her toward the sofa, removing his T-shirt as he moved. His chest was covered with intricate gray-scale tattoos. The samurai warrior was so lifelike, she almost expected it to slash her with its razor-sharp sword. Before she tumbled back on the sofa, she fleetingly wondered how much it had hurt to have all of that artwork etched into his skin. She stared wide-eyed when her gaze landed on the enormous cock that protruded from his fly. The thickened tip curved upwards slightly. The darker shaft had a maze of blood vessels straining against the surface. She reached for it with a trembling hand.

  “God, that’s sexy. Are you doing that on purpose?” he asked.

  “Doing what?”

  “Acting like you’ve never been fucked before. Like my dick is the first one you’ve ever touched.”

  Her cheeks flamed, and she drew her hand away.

  “Whatever,” he said, “keep it up. It’s a serious turn-on.”

  Her inexperience was a turn-on? Or him thinking that she was acting inexperienced was a turn-on? She would have no problem keeping up the ploy since it wasn’t a ruse. But his way of thinking gave her the confidence to not pretend that she knew what she was doing. She was relieved that she could show her sexual cluelessness and turn him on at the same time.

  She steeled her nerve and sat upright on the low sofa. She gazed at his cock with trepidation. It jerked, and he gasped.

  “If you keep staring at it like that, I’m going to come all over your face.”

  Did penises really do that? Could he ejaculate just because a woman stared at his cock? Or would he need a little more stimulation? She took a steadying breath, leaned forward, and kissed the swollen head. She gasped, shocked by her brazenness, and looked up at him in apology. “S-sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Touching you without permission.”