Page 100 of Reverb
Tomorrow would be a lazy morning before boarding the bus again. After that, another hectic run of concerts. A life she loved and wanted. But stopping like this, holding David like this—she wanted that, too. He was the one bright, shining delight in this whole business with the stalker, and she hoped that would never dim.
Chapter Twenty
David relished the quiet early mornings in the bus before Adrian woke and made his coffee that had them all crawling out of their berths.
After Charlotte, they’d played in Atlanta, with Mish singing half of the songs. Ray’s voice was well and truly on the mend. Tonight, they’d play in Nashville, and Ray was itching to get back into his top form, even as they juggled around sets to let Mish sing, too. You gave it your all in Music City.
Though staying at hotels had been a nice break, there was a simplicity to the hum of the road, the darkness of the sleeping berth, and the utter silence of humans asleep around David.
Reminded him, in some odd way, of barracks. He had often woken up early then, and lain in the dark contemplating all that he didn’t dare think about during the day. Back then, it had been his gender, his sexuality, his role in the world, and how he’d been running and running and running from the truth.
Now it was about the tangled mess that was his job, this band that felt like family, and how fucking much he was falling for Mish Sullivan. On top of all of that, there was the stalker. Every blip in the news, every photo of David and Mish together—even the ones when he was in the background—those threatened to infuriate that asshole. Make him act out.
He hadn’t. Even the emails and comments were gone. Oh, he was still out there, both David and Adrian were sure of that, but they hadn’t heard from him. Not a comment about Mish’s singing. Eventually the asshole would come out of the woodwork. But when and how? They were getting pretty close to the end of this leg of the tour.
That niggled another worry in the back of David’s brain. Eventually, this tour would be over. The job he’d been hired for would be done. What then? Was he another Mish Sullivan fling? He didn’t think so, but there were no guarantees. They had gotten close so fast—fallen in lust. That didn’t mean love. Or the kind of commitment Ray and Zavier had for each other.
Hadn’t minded the thought of a fling when they’d started this. But now his heart ached to be with her. He loved being on the bus with the band, too, and the friendships he’d formed. The deeper he got with Mish, the more reason he had to step back from the very job that put him here to begin with.
When this leg of the tour was over, he really ought to tell Ray and Marcella to find another guard for Mish. Help them find someone. In reality, the whole band could use a security detail, not something cobbled together out of him, Adrian, and the crew.
That left the most looming question: when he left this job and took another, how the hell was he going to date Mish Sullivan? Could he even?
Yeah, maybe boy toy fling was the best way to look at himself. Thinking through the logistics of Mish touring and him off on some other job made his brain and heart hurt. There wasn’t a way they could be together after the tour.
He reached up to touch the ceiling of his berth, to run his hand over the surface, the texture under his fingers cool and soothing. Life went on. It had after the army. After he’d come out, then come out again. He’d left family behind. Friends. Fellow soldiers. Ultimately, he was a loner and functioned best when he could move through society on his own terms.
Once he heard Adrian drop out of his bunk to brew coffee, David folded up his thoughts and tucked them away. He had to be here and now. What might happen later couldn’t impact what he was here to do. His fling with Mish couldn’t impact that, either.
When he heard someone else besides Adrian in the main area of the bus, he crawled out of his berth and started his day as part of the Twisted Wishes inner circle.
Went pretty quickly after coffee. They pulled into the venue—another amphitheater—midmorning, then the day was full of sound checks, banter, walking the setup and talking to the site’s security. Mish caught him about halfway through the day for some very heavy kissing in a quiet corner backstage.
Just like that, all his resolve to keep his feelings contained burned up in his veins. He ran his hands up her sides and teased her breasts through her shirt.
“God,” she whispered, “I want you to make me come. Hard. Fast.”
“Not here.” Might be quiet, but it was still far too exposed for his liking.
“Right here.” Mish nipped at his beard.
“Reckless.” But he was already hiking up her skirt. He fucking needed to get a grip, but his heart was pounding too damn hard. “Someone might see.”
“So?” He felt Mish’s smile against his neck. “Come on, baby. You’ve got talented hands and a talented mouth.”
He shouldn’t do what she asked, but he also couldn’t help himself. Everything about her was heady and hot. He took her mouth in his, and pressed her against the wall. He found the edge of her silky underwear and pushed the fabric aside. When he slid his fingers into her folds, she moaned into him. God, she was slick and hot and ready.
What he wouldn’t give for more time and a far more comfortable place? He was hard and as needy. Pushing a finger into her got him a groan and a hissed “Yes, please.” He circled her hard clit, and she gasped, riding his hand. He alternated between fucking her shallowly and lavishing attention onto her clit, until she was crushing him in her arms. “Oh fuck, oh shit.”
God the power in undoing a woman like Mish. Only took a few more strokes and she was coming hard, burying her head against his shoulder, her breath warming his neck. They hung there for a moment, his fingers in her folds as she came down, her arms around him. His own breath was harsh against her hair.
“Fucking hell, baby.” He pulled his fingers away, all too aware that they both smelled like sex.
A chuckle. “You better believe it.” Mish smoothed down her skirt.
Despite all his years of experience, nothing had prepared him for what to do after a moment like this. Wiping his fingers on his shirt seemed...gauche. So he did what came to him next—sucked them into his mouth and licked the taste of Mish from them.
Her eyes widened. “Fucking hell yourself.” She smiled, ruddy-cheeked and breathless. “I think I love you.”
