Sinners On Tour 01 Backstage Pass (16 page)

Trey punched him in the arm. “Myrna, you retard. Cal her.”

“I don’t have her number. Besides, she doesn’t want to see me.” He ducked his head to stare at his boots.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Trey said. “And you could get her number if you real y wanted to.”

He laughed. “I don’t even know her last name.”

“Where is she from?”

“Kansas City,” he said automatical y, but Trey already knew that. Brian couldn’t stop talking about her, so Trey knew more about Myrna than he could possibly want to know.

“And she’s a professor, so she has to work at a col ege around there.”

“So?”

“And there are only so many human sexuality professors at those col eges. Maybe one or two at each, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

“Myrna isn’t a very common name. And even if every human sexuality professor in the Kansas City area were named Myrna, you could stil cal them al until you found her.”

“She’l be majorly pissed if I cal her,” Brian said, though hope fluttered through his aching heart.

“So what? If she tel s you off, then maybe you’l get her out of your system, and if she doesn’t, then we’l get to see you happy again. Shit, the whole band is suffering because of this funk you’re in. We need you, you know. You’re our glue.”

Brian sighed loudly. “Al right, I get it. I’l try to find her.”

Trey rubbed his hand vigorously over Brian’s hair until Brian leaned away, his scalp tingling.

“No need. I already have.” Trey handed Brian a piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it. Lefties and their scarcely legible handwriting. “Here’s her work number. Her home phone is apparently unlisted.”

“How’d you get this?”

“Internet. Her last name is Evans, by the way. Her picture was in the faculty directory.”

Picture?
He’d have to check it out later. See if she was as beautiful as he remembered. “When did you do this?”

“About a week ago.”

Brian scowled. “And you wait until now?”

“I thought maybe you’d get over her.”

Brian stared down at the slip of paper. “Now I just have to get up the nerve to have my heart shredded again.”

“Don’t take too long,” Trey said. “I mean seriously. I’ve never seen you like this. Not for this long.”

“Myrna’s different.”

Trey snorted and laughed as if they were back in the fifth grade. “You’ve got it bad, Sinclair.”

Myrna answered her office phone on its second ring. “Doctor Myrna Evans, Psychology Department.”

“Myrna. Ah. It’s real y you.”

Al the blood drained from her face. “Brian?”

“It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“How did you find me?”

“Trey looked you up on the Internet by checking the faculty lists of the universities around Kansas City. You aren’t hard to find.” He fel silent for a moment. “Are you mad that I cal ed?”

She couldn’t lie and pretend she was anything but delighted to hear from him. She was disturbed that she was so easy to find.

She wasn’t hiding from Brian, but there was another man she didn’t want to find her. Ever.

“No,” she said. “I’m not mad.”

“Wil you meet me somewhere?”

“What? Now? Are you in Kansas City?”

He chuckled. Her breath caught and her nipples tightened. How could the simple sound of his laugh turn her on?

“No, I’m in Oregon for the entire weekend. More tour dates. I’l send you a plane ticket.”

“I can’t just drop everything and get on a plane to Oregon.”

“Why not?”

“I’m busy. I have this job, you see.” This job that was quickly going down the tubes. She reached for the letter from the National Science Foundation and slid it into her top desk drawer. She didn’t want to be bothered with thoughts of losing her grant funding. Not when she had Brian Sinclair’s deep voice in her ear.

“You don’t get weekends off?”

“Most of the time.”

“Are you working this weekend?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She hesitated.
Eh, why not?
She could real y use a short break from this place. Maybe a couple of days away would clear her head and she could figure out what to do about her current predicament. “You haven’t sent me a ticket yet.”

“Fuck,” he murmured.

Disappointment made her heart drop to her toes. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just standing outside the stadium to get better phone reception and have been recognized by a group of fans.

Bad timing. I have a raging hard-on, thanks to you, and can’t run very fast.”

“As long as it’s thanks to me,” she said, laughing.

Some chick squealed in the background, “Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s Master Sinclair!”

Myrna laughed.

“Could you hold on just a minute? I’m on the phone,” he said to someone.

“Oh my God! Wil you sign my tits? Please. Please. You’re soooo hot! Where’s Sed?”

“They always want Sed,” Brian said to Myrna. “Let me get away from these girls and I’l cal you back with your flight information.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

“And Brian?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Hey,” a whiny girl said in the background. “Who are you cal ing baby? Do you have a girlfriend?”

Myrna shook her head. She didn’t know how he put up with it. “It’s great to hear your voice, too.”

“I’m glad,” he said quietly. “I’l cal you back.”

He disconnected and she sat back in her office chair, listening to dead air until the phone began to beep at her. She hung up. It had been almost a month since they’d parted in Des Moines. She missed him and regretted not staying in contact with him, though she hadn’t realized how much until that moment. When the phone rang almost an hour later, She was stil staring off into space with a stupid grin on her face.

“Can you be on a plane in four hours?” Brian asked.

“Four hours? I’m stil at work.”

“Wel , I realize that. I did cal your work number.”

She laughed. She hadn’t laughed this much in… a month. “It’s Thursday. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Cal in sick.”

“Cal in sick?” She never cal ed in sick. Not even when she
was
sick.

“I’m not worth a sick day?”

“I don’t know. Are you?”

He chuckled. “You sure don’t make this easy on a guy. Our concert isn’t until Saturday night, so I thought we could spend al day tomorrow getting reacquainted.”

Reacquainted?
Yeah, they’d need at least a day. Her gaze drifted to the huge stack of her students’ final papers. She’d been grading them when Brian had cal ed. One sick day wouldn’t hurt. She could finish her grading by Tuesday, when final grades were due. “Where am I flying?”

“Portland.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“What’s the flight number?”

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong now?”

“I thought I had that hard-on under control. Turns out I was wrong.”

She laughed.

“God, I want you,” he whispered. “Laugh again.”

“I can’t laugh when I try.” She did laugh though, because she was incredibly happy.

“Do you have something to write on?”

She reached for a pen. “Yeah.” She wrote down the e-ticket information he read to her. After she hung up, she shut down her computer and locked her office. She walked out of the office suite and stopped at the department secretary’s desk.

“Gladys, I’m going home early. I don’t feel wel .”

Gladys’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re sick?”

“Yeah. I probably won’t be in tomorrow either.”

“That’s too bad. I hope you feel better.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, here’s your mail.” Gladys handed her a stack of mail.

Myrna tucked it into her purse and headed to the airport. She didn’t bother packing any luggage. She didn’t have time. Besides, it wasn’t like she would need clothes.

Inside the cramped bathroom of the tour bus, Brian hurried through his shower. He couldn’t wait to see Myrna. Couldn’t believe she’d agreed to come visit him. Couldn’t think of anything but drawing her into his arms. Holding her. Touching her. Looking at her.
God, I’m
a fucking moron.
He knew she would break his heart, but he didn’t care. After his shower, he hurried to the bedroom in search of clothes.

“You could knock,” Trey said.

Brian paused in the bedroom’s doorway holding his towel around his waist. Standing before the long dresser, Trey wrapped his arms around the thin young man in front of him and plastered his body to the guy’s back. Trey’s hand slid up under the hem of his new friend’s T-shirt.

The guy’s eyes widened and he caught Trey’s hands in his. “H-hey, Master Sinclair, erm, Brian. Can I cal you Brian?” Brian shrugged and the guy flushed. “This isn’t what it looks like. I don’t like guys or anything.” He shook his head vigorously.

“You wil ,” Trey murmured, inching the guy’s shirt further up his bel y.

“Trey, are you molesting virgins again?” Brian grinned at his best friend’s delight with his latest conquest.

“This one is named Mark. And you know how much I like cherries.”

Brian chuckled. He supposed that didn’t only apply to lol ipops.

Trey slowly ran his tongue up Mark’s neck. Mark shuddered and turned his head to look at Trey over his shoulder.

“You know this bedroom is mine as soon as I col ect Myrna from the airport.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trey murmured. “This won’t take more than a couple of hours.”

Mark tensed.

Brian rol ed his eyes. “I need to get dressed. I’l be gone before you know it, and then you two can continue doing whatever it was you were about to do.”

“Um, wait. I…” Mark untangled himself from Trey’s embrace and pul ed a piece of paper from his back pocket. He spread it across the dresser. It was a drawing of Brian’s and Trey’s guitars crossed at the necks with Sinners’ band logo above the V-shape.

“I’m going to have this tattooed across my back and I wanted to include your signatures under the guitars. A tribute to my favorite guitarists.” He glanced at Trey nervously and quickly averted his gaze to settle on Brian. “You guys rock. I absolutely idolize you. I want to
be
you.”

“I want to
do
you,” Trey said, toying with the hair at the nape of Mark’s neck.

Brian scratched his head behind his ear, deliberately staring down at the drawing to avoid watching Trey’s actions. “Nice design,”

Brian said. “Sure, I’l sign it. Do you want my real name or my stage name?”

Mark smiled brightly and handed him a black, fine-point pen. “Just Sinclair would be awesome.” Mark glanced at Trey, who leaned up against his back to stare over his shoulder at the drawing. “And Mil s.” Mark swal owed. “Please.”

Brian scrawled his last name under the black guitar with white flecks. “After you get this done, you should send a picture of your tattoo to the webmaster on the Sinners website. There’s a fan tat page on there. Sinners Ink.”

“I’m the webmaster,” Trey murmured. “So make sure it’s a naked picture.”

Mark laughed nervously.

Brian handed the pen to Trey, but he set it on the dresser and covered his pretty fan boy’s bel y with both hands. His pinkies dipped into the waistband of Mark’s jeans. “I’l sign it later.”

While Brian got dressed, he tried to ignore Trey and his entertainment for the afternoon. It turned out to be as easy as ignoring an air horn.

“You’re so sexy,” Trey murmured as he suckled and licked Mark’s neck and ear.

“No…”

“Shhh. You are.”

A black T-shirt landed at Brian’s feet. Brian dressed faster. His zipper went up; someone else’s zipper went down.

“Don’t like guys, huh?” Trey murmured. “Is this a rabbit in your pocket?”

“Wait,” Mark gasped. “Ohhhh.”

“Yes,” Brian yel ed. “Wait until I’m gone. Please!”

Trey chuckled. Mark’s breath caught in his throat and he groaned in pleasure.

Brian grabbed his boots, socks and shirt and headed for the door, keeping his eyes off Trey’s defilement of Mark. And then he remembered his lucky hat.

“Shit,” Brian muttered under his breath. He’d put it in the dresser. In the drawer right in front of where Trey was stroking that guy’s cock. And rubbing. And stroking. Slightly twisting his wrist at the tip. And…

Why was watching Trey give a hand job turning Brian on? He seriously needed to get laid. It had been almost a month since he’d seen Myrna and he wasn’t used to this length of abstinence. He hoped she was as sexual y uninhibited as he remembered.

Trey glanced at Brian, grinning wickedly. The green eye not obscured by his overlong black bangs twinkled with more mischief than usual. “Need something, bro?”

“I need to get in that drawer.” He pointed at it, his nose wrinkled.

“What’s wrong? Afraid Mark’s going to come on you?”

Actual y, yes. The guy looked about ready to blow his load as Trey worked him over with practiced ease. Mark glanced down at Trey’s hand, gasped brokenly, and then dropped his head back on Trey’s shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut. “Ah, God. I am gonna come. I am.”

Trey chuckled and released Mark’s cock. He then shifted his lover back against his body so Brian could get into the drawer.

“Feel how hard I am for you?” Trey said in Mark’s ear. “That’s going in your ass as soon as Brian clears out of here.”

Mark gasped and tried to pul away. “No, I don’t want… It wil hurt. Won’t it hurt?” He glanced over his shoulder at Trey uncertainly.

Brian noticed he wasn’t protesting very hard.

“Not the way I do it.”

“Change the sheets when you’re done.” Brian retrieved his hat from the dresser and hurried out of the room. He finished dressing in the hal , pretending he couldn’t hear Trey’s newest lover crying out in ecstasy on the other side of the thin door. Brian tipped his lucky hat—a floppy, leather fedora—on his head. He didn’t want to waste time fixing his shoulder-length hair in its usual messy, spiked style. What he wanted to do was make Myrna’s flight arrive sooner.

“So is she on her way?” Eric asked.

Brian checked his watch. “She should be here in a couple of hours. Wil you do me a huge favor?”