Page 1 of Enjoying the Band in Lockdown

Enjoying the Band in Lockdown

The birds had been awake for hours.

They weren’t the only ones.

Unable to sleep and unwilling to admit to being awake, I regretted turning onto my back an hour ago. At the time, trying to find space in the king-sized bed that filled the hotel room at the expense of other furniture.

Although, apparently my shoulders were comfortable pillows. One head of dark dreads to my left, and long messy blonde strands to my right. Two bodies pressed against mine, heating up my bed as easily as they’d heated up my life.

I’d been awake since the early rays of sunlight snuck in through the heavy hotel room drapes. Eyes closed, enjoying the native birds serenading another day of Australian summer. But now I felt trapped, stifling the urge to move, needing to stretch out my cramping leg or scratch my itchy nose.

Refusing to risk last night becoming a distant dream. Or risk any of my men wanting conversation before I’d had coffee.

It was enough to wake feeling safe, secure and even loved.

So different from waking yesterday. A different hotel room in the same complex. Alone. Waiting for a bus to take me to I-didn’t-care where.

Only, they did. Four men, my men, cared.

Jax Malone, lead guitarist for Australian rock band, The Flying Monkeys, found me. The man least likely to give a damn when I stormed off, leaving Xavier on a beach.

Jax somehow tracked down my cab driver, and sweet-talked his way through hotel receptionists, until he found me.

Jax cared.

Alpha asshole Jax stopped me from leaving town.

All it had taken was one kiss.

One amazing, heart-stopping, and panty-melting kiss.

Jax!

Not Xavier Galis, the lead singer who’d turned our one-night stand into three weeks in lockdown.

Not Devon of the carved abs who’d been willing to share me with Xavier, knowing Xavier would always be my number one.

Not even Chase. Dearest, sweet and sexy, broody Chase. Of the lightest hazel eyes and firm touch. Without his drum kit, he could make my body move to whatever beat he chose. Except, he wanted me. With, but preferably without, Xavier. My leaving had hurt Chase the most.

Or so I’d thought.

Xavier.

Almost as if he knew I was thinking about him, he groaned in his sleep. Nestling his perpetual hard-on against my hip, his leg slung over mine. Trapping me. Carefully, I edged my right arm from under Jax, finding Xavier’s hand. Fingers intertwined.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered in my ear. His trade-marked question. One he’d never stopped asking.

“You. Coffee.” I whispered, unwilling to wake the rest of his band.

“But not in that order?” One kiss, softly delivered behind my ear, felt down to my toes.

“You know me so well.”

The firm mattress didn’t budge as Xavier rolled off, helping me unwrap half my body from Jax. The soft snoring from Devon or Chase echoed from the other bedroom.

Xavier pulled the long red and burgundy dress from my bag, tossing it over with a clean black thong. Blonde strands had escaped from my ponytail and I desperately wanted half an hour to shower, clean my face and make myself worthy of this man. Instead, I smoothed down the dress, found my black slip-ons, and followed Xavier from the room.

Only to crash into his firm chest in the hallway.

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