Take Me to Paradise
Second epilogue to Backstage Pass
Sinners in Paradise #1
A Sinners on Tour Encore
by Olivia Cunning
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic
or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in
writing from the author at olivia@oliviacunning.com.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are
products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intentional.
For more information on the author and her works, please visit www.oliviacunning.com.
Copyright 2014 Olivia Cunning
Published by Vulpine Press
Cover Design by Charity Hendry
Cover Photo by iofoto at depositphotos.com
Edited by E.A. Hill at www.anoveledit.com
ISBN-10: 1-939276-16-0
ISBN-13: 978-1-939276-16-2
Table of Contents
BOOKS BY OLIVIA CUNNING
SINNERS ON TOUR SERIES:
Backstage Pass
Rock Hard
Hot Ticket
Wicked Beat
Double Time
Sinners at the Altar
Take Me to Paradise
COMING SOON:
More Sinners in Paradise
One Starry Night – rerelease
ONE NIGHT WITH SOLE REGRET SERIES:
Try Me #1
Tempt Me #2
Take Me #3
Share Me: A Prequel #0.5
Touch Me #4
Tie Me #5
Tell Me #6
Tease Me #7
COMING SOON:
Treat Me #8
Thrill Me #9
LOVERS’ LEAP SERIES:
Loving on Borrowed Time
Twice Upon a Time
Writing as OLIVIA DOWNING
Defying Destiny
Chapter One
Only one thing could top being woken by a skilled lover expertly sucking his cock:
knowing—without even opening his eyes—that his wakeup call was being delivered by his
sensational wife.
“Well, good morning to you too,” Brian said, lifting his head from the pillow to watch her
work her magic.
Myrna smiled a greeting with her pretty hazel eyes since her mouth was otherwise
occupied. She took him deep into the back of her throat and increased the strength of her
suction as she pulled back.
His belly tightened in an involuntary spasm of delight, and he dropped his head back on
the pillow, wondering what he’d done to deserve this phenomenal alarm clock.
Myrna bobbed her head until Brian was so hard he could have used his dick to carve
marble, and then she pulled back until he popped out of her mouth. He watched her in silent
awe as she crawled up his body to straddle his hips.
“My temperature is optimal,” she explained, reaching between her legs to press his
cockhead into her slick opening. His flesh throbbed with pleasure as her tight pussy
swallowed him inch by glorious inch.
Myrna wanted a baby almost as much as he did, and though they’d been trying for
months, they hadn’t found success. She had recently resorted to taking her temperature
near the middle of her cycle, hoping to find her fertile time. She’d switched from a romantic
approach to a more scientific one when fucking like rabbits any time they were in the same
room together hadn’t done the trick.
“I should be on top,” he said, “so gravity isn’t working against us.”
She pursed her lips and nodded, blinking against the sudden flood of tears in her eyes.
He sat up and wrapped both arms around her. “Don’t cry, baby. It will happen.”
She clung to him as if afraid he was about to desert her again. He knew half of their
problem was that his tour schedule with Sinners kept them apart most of the time.
“How can it happen when you’re always on the road?” she said and snuggled her face
into his neck.
“I’m not on the road now,” he said.
“Only because the tour bus was ripped in two.”
“Maybe your ovaries planned it that way,” he said and rolled her onto her back. He was
hoping to bring a smile to her face, but she just scowled at him.
“Don’t joke about the crash. That was the most terrifying experience of my life.”
She’d done well at hiding her fear until they’d been alone together and she’d completely
fallen apart. He’d loved how she’d needed his strength to help her come to terms with the
accident that had nearly taken their lives, but he didn’t love that it always took a life-
threatening crisis for her to show any weakness.
He kissed her deeply and began to rock his hips, willing memories of that horrible
experience to leave her mind and his. When she relaxed beneath him and began to explore
his back with gentle fingertips, he churned his hips to give her more pleasure. He knew he
could give her pleasure, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever give her the baby she wanted so
badly. He was starting to think there was something wrong with his potency, which made
him want to make a baby even more. To prove that what he kept in his pants wasn’t just for
show. That it could get the job done properly.
Myrna moaned softly, grinding against him as her excitement built. He lifted onto his
elbows so he could watch her as he thrust into her, pulled back, and then plunged into her
again. He would never tire of looking at her face or its countless expressions—her joy, her
anxiety, her passion. Her fear and sorrow. Her anger and tenderness and wonder and love.
He cherished every nuance of her beautiful face and doubted he’d ever grow tired of
watching her—not even when they were both old and wrinkled like a pair of enamored
raisins.
“I love you,” he whispered when the emotion became too raw to hold inside.
She smiled up at him and lifted a hand to touch his beard-stubbled jaw. “I love you too
Brian.”
They deserved to have the ultimate expression of their love. They deserved to have a
baby. So why was making one so fucking difficult for them?
He made love to her slowly, filling her deeply, waiting for her to find her peak. He
followed her in orgasm, planting himself firmly against the entrance of her womb as he
found release inside her. He withdrew slowly, trying not to disrupt what he’d left behind, and
then rested his head on her chest as he slowly regained his breath. She ran her fingers
through his hair while he prayed that they’d made it happen this time. Please God, let her
be happy. Let her have a baby. My baby. Please.
“Let’s go away somewhere,” she said after a moment. “Just the two of us. We never got
to have a real honeymoon after our wedding, and Jerry said it will be awhile before you’re
able to get back on tour. Plus, my leave of absence from work extends for another full
week.”
Going on a honeymoon sounded like a great idea to him. While spending time with
Myrna in Kansas City was wonderful, it would be spectacular to get away from everything
for a while. Maybe staying in the apartment where her creep of an ex-husband had shown
up and made her feel unsafe was stressing Myrna out. His mom had told him that women
sometimes had a hard time conceiving when they were stressed. She’d also told him that
older women often struggled to get pregnant, but he’d immediately dismissed that reason.
And he had not told Myrna that he’d been worried enough to call his mom for advice. His
mother wasn’t on Myrna’s list of favorite people. Especially after his mom blamed Myrna for
not getting to attend her own son’s wedding and was unabashedly vocal about her
disapproval of his and Myrna’s age difference. It wasn’t as if seven years was eons. And he
loved Myrna. Adored her. He was euphorically overjoyed to have Myrna as his wife.
Shouldn’t that be what his mother cared about? Not their age difference, but their happiness
together? He often didn’t understand how his mother’s mind worked.
“Where would you like to go?” Brian asked.
“I’ll go anywhere,” Myrna said, “as long as I’m with you.”
His heart warmed. He loved the rare occasions when she said romantic things to him.
She crinkled her pert nose, and he knew her atom-thin romantic streak had already
vanished. “Except Canada,” she said. “Canada doesn’t seem to like me much.”
The bus accident had occurred in Canada, and they both knew the crash had nothing to
do with a place liking anyone, but he understood her hesitation to return there so soon after
tragedy had struck the family of their little metal band.
“I’ll call a travel agent and see what’s available in a hurry,” he said. “Are you hungry?” He
lowered his head and kissed her flat belly. He wondered what she’d look like with his baby
growing inside her. He was positive that it would be the most beautiful sight he’d ever see.
“A little. Are you?”
“Starving,” he said.
“I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”
He pressed her firmly into the mattress. “You stay here and incubate,” he said. “I’ll bring
you something.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, her eyes growing moist again.
Damn, she was emotional while trying to get pregnant. He couldn’t even imagine how
emotional she’d be once she actually conceived. He wouldn’t mind, though. He was more
than happy to make midnight runs for pickles and ice cream to keep a smile on her face.
He’d do anything to make her happy.
“No problem,” he said and kissed her pouty pink lips. “It’s the least I can do after that
wonderful wake-up you gifted me with this morning.”
“When my ovaries say it’s time, it’s time,” she said with a laugh.
“We have at least twelve more hours to take advantage of their cooperation,” he said.
“Better make that breakfast a quick one.” She patted his ass. “I’m ready for you to take
advantage of me again.”
Chapter Two
Less than six hours later, Brian was sitting in an airport terminal holding Myrna’s hand as
they waited to board their flight to Oranjestad in Aruba.
“We’re missing our window of opportunity,” she said. “My egg is probably dying as we
speak.”
“I thought you wanted to get away. Just the two of us.”
“I do. I just wasn’t expecting to leave today,” she said.
“That travel agent performed a miracle for us. She called every five-star resort on the
island and was lucky enough to locate us a penthouse suite during the peak of the season.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. There’s always next month.” She frowned. “Except, you’ll be
back on the road by then.”
“Maybe you got pregnant this morning,” he said, rubbing her back encouragingly. He
wanted to give this woman the world, and he had the financial means to do that. So if they
were required to go through the long and expensive process of getting pregnant with the aid
of a fertility clinic, at least they wouldn’t have to worry about the cost. “We’ll give it a year,
and then we’ll see a doctor to figure out if something’s wrong.”
“I know half the problem is wanting so badly for it to happen,” she said, “but I can’t help
it.”
“I want it to happen too. Sometimes these things take time.”
“We don’t have limitless time, Brian. I’m already in my mid-thirties. You should have
married someone younger,” she mumbled with a scowl.
Her words stung. Did she think the only reason he married her was because she’d make
the most beautiful babies on the planet? And it was bad enough that his mother thought
Myrna was too old for him—he sure as hell didn’t need Myrna spouting the same nonsense.
“Myrna, I didn’t want to marry someone younger. I wanted to marry you. You know I
don’t give a fuck about your age.”
“I can’t help but think if I was ten years younger, this wouldn’t be an issue. I’d have been
knocked up the second I got off birth control.”
“We’ve only been trying for a few months,” he reminded her. “That’s not very long.”
She bit her lip and nodded, her stare unfocused. He couldn’t stand to see her like this.
Maybe she’d feel better if they utilized their narrow window of opportunity while waiting for
their flight.
He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “We could go find some secluded corner and
try again right now.” He slid a hand over the fabric of her dress, smiling when her thigh
tightened beneath his exploratory caress.
She glanced around, and he knew she was considering it. Fuck, his wife rocked his
world.
“It’s too crowded,” she said, her voice hollow with disappointment.
Brian’s cock twitched in his pants. They needed to get to their hotel in Aruba
immediately.
“How long is the flight?”
She checked their boarding pass. “Seven and a half hours.”
That was definitely not immediately. He groaned.
She patted his thigh, and his cock twitched again.
“Stop thinking about sex,” she suggested, her gaze on the increasing bulge in his pants.
“You started it,” he said.
“Unfortunately, I can’t finish it at the moment. Maybe I can sneak in a handjob under a
blanket on the plane.”
He grinned and shook his head. “You’re getting me wound up on purpose.”
She blinked at him, trying her best to look wide-eyed and innocent. “Who, me?”
He was just glad she’d stopped moping. If that meant a huge case of blue balls for him,
he’d gladly make the sacrifice.
A few minutes later a flight attendant made a grainy-sounding announcement over the
intercom to start the boarding process.
Myrna checked their seat numbers and shook her head. “That’s not us.”
He traced patterns on the back of her hand with one fingertip while they waited. And
waited. The terminal was mostly empty when their section was called. Brian carried both
carry-ons while Myrna maneuvered her enormous purse through the dwindling crowd. As
they stood in line chatting about remembering to turn off the coffee pot and lock the door
and did he remember to pack this or that, Brian became aware of the conversation behind
him.
“That is him,” some guy said.
“No, it’s not,” a woman returned. “What would he be doing in Kansas City? And boarding
a commercial flight to Aruba? I don’t think so. He’d be on a private jet or something.”
“It is so him. I’ve seen him onstage around a thousand times.”
Brain winced and pretended he didn’t know they were talking about him.
“Master Sinclair!”
Myrna immediately turned to see who had called Brian’s name. Damn it. It was difficult
to pretend he hadn’t heard when his wife was tugging at his sleeve and nodding toward the
couple behind them. He so didn’t want to be a celebrity while he was on vacation; he just
wanted to be Brian. He turned and offered a courteous nod to the twenty-something guy
behind him. The dark-haired, stocky man in a faded black Exodus End T-shirt had almost as
many tattoos as Brian had.
“I knew it was you,” the guy enthused, showing off a rather crooked set of teeth. “I knew
it. Didn’t I say it was him, Gail? I said that is fucking Brian Master Sinclair right in front of
us. Didn’t I, Gail?”
“Yeah, that’s what you said,” his very tall, very thin, very blond companion said.
“Are you on vacation? Going to Aruba? I heard about the bus crash in Canada. Glad no
one was hurt.”
“Our sound board operator is now paralyzed,” Brian said tersely.
“Well, glad no one important was hurt. So why are you going to Aruba?”
Dave was very important and not only because he was an amazing sound engineer. He
was an all-around good guy. Myrna took Brian’s arm and tugged him toward the woman
checking IDs against boarding passes.
“Delayed honeymoon,” Brian said. He turned, trying to put the guy out of his head. Brian
had wanted to get away from just this kind of thing, and damned if it wasn’t following him
onto the fucking plane.
“Oh. Is that your wife? I thought she was your secretary or something. I figured a rock
star like you would be married to some hot nineteen-year-old blonde with big ol’ titties.” The
dude laughed hysterically, ending with a loud snort.
Myrna bristled, and Brian suppressed the urge to punch the guy in his prattling mouth.
Unfortunately, the dude continued to yammer at the back of Brian’s head all the way down
the jetway and even inside the plane’s cabin. Brian pressed a finger to his forehead, hoping
to stave off a threatening headache.
“Me and Gail are getting married this week,” the guy said. “On the beach in Aruba.”
“That’s nice.”
“We’d love for you to come. And you could even bring your wife if you want. Hey, do you
guys swing, by any chance?”
“No,” Brian said, shoving their carry-ons into the compartment over their seats. He
chanced a glance at Myrna, who had taken the window seat and was trying to glare a hole
into their tag-along’s throat.
“That’s too bad. Gail likes to bang guitarists.”
Gail giggled shrilly at this, which turned Brian’s threatening headache to full-out pounding
throb behind his right eye.
“That’s nice,” Brian said.
“We really would like you to attend our wedding, though. Will you come?”
“We have other plans,” Brian said with as much cordiality as he could muster.
“Oh,” the guy said flatly. “Well, I’m Kev. It was really awesome meeting you in any
case.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Brian said, giving Kev’s moist hand a shake to finalize their
interaction.
Brian flopped into his seat and turned to Myrna, striking up a meaningless conversation
in hopes to deter Kev from camping out in the aisle beside him.
“He’s gone,” Myrna said after several tense moments.
“I hate to be an asshole to a fan, but I am not in the mood to be pestered this week.”
“He was rather insulting,” Myrna said, putting her hands under her perfect breasts and
giving them a fluff.
“I can go punch him in the mouth if you want.”
She grinned. “As much as I’d like to see that, you’ll just get us kicked off the plane as a
terrorist threat.”
“Maybe later then,” he said.
“Did you let the guys know that we’re leaving the country?” Myrna asked.
The band was in a kind of crisis mode at the moment, so they would probably want to
know where their lead guitarist had wandered off to.
“I called Trey. He threatened to join us,” Brian said with a smile. Part of him missed the
good ol’ days of getting into trouble and under skirts with his best friend, but most of him
was deliriously happy to give it all up so he could spend the rest of his life with the woman
who’d stolen his heart, his soul, and his undivided attention.
“How did you talk him out of it?”
“I told him we were leaving tomorrow.”
“Brian.” She shook her head at him.
“Did you want him to tag along? I’m all for it. You know I’m still waiting for you to agree
on another threesome.”
“When I’m off birth control?”
Brian’s body jerked. “Yeah, with my luck, he’d get you pregnant in an instant.” He
scowled at the direction of his thoughts.
“I don’t care how good it feels, Brian. I don’t want him in our bed again.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first twenty times.”
He still didn’t understand why Myrna was so against another threesome. She was
completely open to anything in the bedroom—anything—so that particular hard limit
surprised him. It was almost as if she was jealous of Trey. But that made absolutely no
sense to Brian. What did she have to be jealous of?
Hadn’t he proven to her time and again that she was the most important person in his
life? Fuck, he’d been so wrapped up in her when they’d first gotten married that he hadn’t
even noticed that Trey had gotten himself addicted to painkillers. Brian hadn’t recognized
the danger until Sed had practically kidnapped Trey to dry him out in some sleazy hotel
room. Brian was still pissed at Sed for strong-arming the situation instead of getting Trey
proper professional help, but he was even more pissed at himself for being more interested
in fucking his wife than supporting his best friend. Trey had needed him, and Brian had
failed him.
Myrna had been perfectly fine with Sed being the one who’d helped Trey out while he
was in crisis. Brian sometimes wondered if she truly understood how important Trey was
too him. Other times he wondered if she actually wanted him to distance himself from his
longtime roommate. Brian could feel the gulf between himself and his best friend widening
with each passing day, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He understood that him
being married meant that he and Trey would never be as close as they’d once been. Now
that they no longer lived together, they scarcely saw each other when they were off tour.
Especially since Brian ended up spending most of his time in Kansas City, where Myrna still
worked.
He just hoped Trey found someone to love soon. The thought of Trey haunting their
once-shared apartment alone made him feel guilty. Guilty enough to ask Myrna if Trey could
move in with them. They planned to buy a house after Myrna quit her job and they settled in
Southern California sometime within the next year. Brian was sure they could find a place
large enough for the three of them. Yet she’d squelched that idea immediately. “He has to
find a life without you at some point,” she’d said. “You hanging on like this isn’t fair to him.
Let him move on.”
He still wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that. He wasn’t hanging on to Trey, was
he? No, that was ridiculous. There was nothing to hang on to besides fifteen years of close
friendship. It wasn’t like they’d been romantically involved or anything. Sometimes the way
his woman’s mind worked completely baffled him.
“You should call Sed when we get to Aruba,” Myrna said, drawing Brian out of his
turbulent thoughts. “Let him know where we are. You know Trey will forget to tell him.”
“Why Sed?” Brian asked. “Why not Eric or Jace?”
“Because Sed’s in charge, isn’t he?”
“No, he just thinks he is.”
“And everyone else thinks he is too.”
“I don’t,” Brian said.
“That’s because you, my love, are in denial.”
He laughed. The woman never withheld her opinion on anything, which was one of the
trillion qualities he loved about her. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll call Sed. And Trey. I don’t want him
showing up at our door in the morning with suitcase in hand only to find we’ve already left
without him.”
“He wouldn’t really come with us, would he?”
Brian chuckled. “He loves the beach as much as I do.”
“Really?” Myrna said. “I figured he’d be more of a poolside lover.”
“I’m sure he’s done plenty of lovin’ poolside,” Brian said with a wide grin. “And
beachside.”
Myrna worried her fingers, watching the motion of her hands instead of looking at him.
“Has he ever had a serious relationship?”
Brian gnawed on his lower lip, thinking about the long string of women—and men—in
Trey’s past. “Do you consider a weekend orgy a serious relationship?”
“No.” Myrna laughed. “Even though we started out that way.”
And what a weekend that had been. “Then, no, he’s never been in a serious relationship.
I’m not sure he’s the type.”
“He’s the type,” Myrna said. “He has so much love to give. I think he’s just hung up on
someone.”
“Who could he possibly be hung up on?” Brian couldn’t think of a single conquest of
Trey’s that his friend would give a second thought to.
Myrna touched his cheek with gentle fingertips. “You are so clueless sometimes.”
“Apparently I am,” Brian said. “Trey never gets emotionally entangled with the people he
puts his dick in.”
“Maybe he never put his dick in this particular emotional entanglement.”
Brian continued puzzling over Trey’s lovers. “There is that Mark guy we met in Portland.
But I’d say he’s hung up on Trey, not the other way around.”
“Hopefully you’ll figure it out one day,” Myrna said. “So . . . What are we going to do in
Aruba?”
He was glad she changed the subject, because her weird little hints about something he
couldn’t decipher were confusing him. “Besides have lots of sex?”
She laughed. “We might have a couple of free hours on Thursday.”
“Lounging on the beach sounds like a good plan to me.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I left it in my other pants.”
She produced a beguiling pout. “Darn.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’ll think of something. Do you promise to agree to my crazy whims no matter where
they steer us?”
His stomach tightened with a case of nerves as he envisioned cliff diving into shallow
water and shark wrestling, but he highly doubted she’d put them in danger. “Your crazy
whims haven’t steered me wrong yet.”
“So I’ll pick an adventure and you’ll pick one, something you’ve always wanted to do but
never had the opportunity or the guts to try.”
Brian nonchalantly peered around the seat in front of him and eyed the bathroom door
speculatively. There was this one thing he’d always wanted to do, and they needn’t leave
the airplane to do it. “Deal,” he said.
She leaned close to his ear. “I already know what I want to do,” she said, her voice low
and husky with desire.
His cock pulsed with interest. “What’s that?”
“Join the mile-high club.”
He laughed and squeezed her knee until she jumped. “Well, you’re going to have to think
of something a little more creative than that,” he said, “because that’s what I was going to
suggest.”
“Great minds think alike,” she said before sliding a warm hand between his legs. She
wasn’t touching his rapidly engorging cock, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t picturing her
releasing him from his pants so she could lean over his seat and take him into her talented
mouth.
By the time the plane took to the sky, Brian was fixating on the bathroom door like an
overzealous drunk at the back of a mile-long line for the toilet.
Chapter Three
Myrna sighed and squirmed in her claustrophobic seat. The inflight movie had started,
and Brian still hadn’t found their opening for a little rendezvous in the bathroom. It wasn’t
because he wasn’t watching for that opening, but perhaps he could use a little
encouragement.
Myrna signaled a passing flight attendant. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’m a little chilly. Do
you have any blankets?”
“Um, sure,” she said. “Just a minute. I’ll get you one.” She turned toward the front of the
plane.
“Two, please,” Myrna called after her.
“You should have worn a sweater,” Brian said, stroking her bare arm.
She’d dressed for their arrival in Aruba, not the cool autumn day she’d left behind in
Kansas City.
“I’m not really chilly,” she said, “but I’m pretty sure your lap is.” She lifted appreciative
brows at the bulge in his pants and then winked at him.
She loved that she could still make her husband’s jaw drop by being naughty.
“Do you want to trade seats with me?” she asked, nodding toward the more private
window seat.
Brian unfastened his seat belt and scrambled to hover above of her lap as if his seat
cushion had sprouted poisonous thorns.
She chuckled, released her seat belt, and lifted the armrest between them so she could
slide to the aisle seat. Brian plopped down beside her. She noted that the bulge in his pants
had already increased in size. She glanced around the cabin to determine the best way to
angle her body to block the view of onlookers.
The flight attendant returned with the blankets and charged them eight bucks apiece for
their blanket and inflatable pillow packs.
“So much for customer service,” Myrna grumbled as she forked over the cash. She
supposed buying a blanket was a better idea anyway, in case Brian got a bit too worked up
and made a mess. She spread one blanket over Brian’s lap and the other around her
shoulders. She turned in her seat and laid her head on his shoulder, her hand resting lightly
on his belly beneath her blanket.
“Can you see anything?” she whispered.
He glanced down. “No,” he whispered back.
“Pretend to watch the movie,” she said.
“I will definitely be pretending,” he said.
His abs contracted beneath her hand as she slowly slid it downward. His belly was
quivering uncontrollably by the time she reached the waistband of his pants.
“I love you so much it hurts sometimes,” he whispered.
She tilted her head back to look at him, and he kissed her passionately. She was so
glad to have found a man as sexually adventurous as she was. Her first husband had been
a dud in the sack—or any other place she tried to initiate sex. Brian was Jeremy’s complete
opposite, thank God.
Brian’s breath came out in a startled huff against her lips when her hand found his rock-
hard cock and gave it a firm squeeze through his jeans. As much as she’d love to make out
with him while she touched him, that would get them caught for sure. They had to pretend
nonchalance.
“Watch the movie,” she said, rubbing her thumb over his bulge in a circular motion.
He bit his bottom lip and nodded slightly. His eyes were closed, but at least his face was
turned toward the screen.
Myrna caressed him through his pants—massaging his length, stroking his head,
delighting in the breathless hitch in the small sounds he made in the back of his throat. The
flesh between her thighs began to throb unbearably. She squirmed in her seat, trying to
alleviate the distracting need pulsing through her wet pussy.
“Touch me,” he whispered. “Please.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing.”
She applied more pressure, gripping his thick shaft and rubbing her thumb over the small
bump she recognized as the rim of his head.
He reached under the blanket and jerked open his fly, releasing a sexy gasp when his
hot, thick cock filled her hand.
“Brian,” she teased in a low voice, “you can’t just whip it out in public.”
But she loved that he had. If not for indecent-exposure laws, she’d already have him
buried in her throat.
Myrna pressed his length against his belly as she stroked him. If she released her hold
on him, he’d have made one hell of a tent in the thin blanket.
“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now,” he growled.
She had a pretty good idea actually. She massaged a bead of pre-cum into the sensitive
skin of his cockhead. He sucked a breath through his teeth.
“You should probably put this thing away,” she said. “I’d love to keep playing with it, but I
have the sudden, uncontrollable urge to go to the bathroom. Maybe you’d like to join me.”
His cock jerked in her hand.
“I’m going to let go now,” she said. “You’d better hold onto it so The Beast doesn’t make
a spectacle of himself.”
His hand covered hers, pressing her palm firmly into his erection.
“Just give me one minute,” he said breathlessly.
He guided her hand up and down his length, his face turned slightly toward the window
as his eyes rolled upward, his mouth dropped open, and his lashes fluttered.
She knew that face. “Don’t you dare come until you’re inside me,” she whispered. “We
have a baby to make.”
She tugged her hand free, and he doubled over, breathing hard as he tried to regain
control.
“Is everything okay?” the flight attendant asked from the aisle. “You don’t look so good.”
Myrna jerked at the unexpected intrusion. Her face went hot, but she managed not to
reveal what had her husband sweating and flushed.
“Just a little upset stomach, I think,” Myrna said, rubbing Brian’s back as if concerned
with his discomfort. She was rather enjoying it, truth be told. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He waved a hand, the other still buried beneath the blanket. “I’ll be fine in a minute,” he
groaned miserably.
“Are you going to be sick?” the flight attendant asked.
“Probably,” he said.
“I’ll help you to the bathroom,” Myrna said. “Okay?”
He nodded resolutely and fumbled under the blanket, undoubtedly closing his fly.
“I can get you an airsickness bag,” the flight attendant offered.
“I don’t think that’s going to help. He’s not feeling well elsewhere.” Her gaze shifted
pointedly downward.
The woman didn’t need to know it was his dick and not his intestines causing him
problems. Myrna would let her come to her own conclusions about his ailment and why he
needed to spend an uncommonly long time in the lavatory.
When Brian was done making himself presentable, Myrna climbed from her seat. “Come
on, sweetheart, I’ll help you to the bathroom and wait outside in case you need anything.”
She held out a hand to him, and he scooted from the seat, holding the blanket scrunched
up against his waist and doing a pretty good job of acting as if he were sick as he shuffled
toward the bathroom. He closed himself into the small bathroom while Myrna waited
outside, looking concerned. No one wanted to wait in line with a “sick” passenger in the
restroom, so in less than a minute, Myrna found the galley area by the lavatory blissfully
empty of spectators.
She opened the bathroom door and found her husband with his cock out, stroking it
vigorously with both hands. His head was tilted back in abandon as he panted toward the
ceiling of the tiny compartment.
“I told you not to come unless you’re inside me,” she whispered, and squeezed into the
small space with him.
“You are trying to kill me, woman,” he accused breathlessly.
He pressed her back against the inside of the flimsy door and fumbled under her skirt.
Her panties were around her ankles in an instant. She kicked one foot free of them and
lifted it to the toilet seat. She bit her lip so she didn’t call out his name when his huge cock
found home and he thrust upward, penetrating her.
He grabbed her wrists and pressed them against the door on either side of her head,
fucking her as hard as the cramped confines of the bathroom would allow.
“Do you liked to be fucked like this?” he growled into her ear.
“God, yes,” she whispered. “I like to be fucked any way you give it to me.”
“You drive me insane,” he said, rotating his hips to make her groan with bliss.
“I’m sorry.” Her insatiable lust had been one of the failings that had driven her first
husband away.
He chuckled. “You’re sorry?”
“I can’t control my urges. I try… I just can’t.”
He released her wrists so he could bury his hands in her hair and tug her head back. Her
gaze settled on his intense brown eyes.
“Don’t ever change, Myrna. You hear me?” He jerked her hair to make sure he had her
attention. “Not ever. I happen to get off on every last one of your urges.”
Heart soaring, she smiled and wrapped her arms and legs around him. He held her
against the door for leverage and slowed his strokes to take her deeper. God, yes, Brian,
deeper. Deeper.
He ground his pelvis against her each time his balls bounced against her ass, rubbing her
clit until she had no choice but to explode in bliss. She kissed him desperately as she came;
she needed the diversion to occupy her mouth so she didn’t scream her pleasure out to an
airplane of unsuspecting passengers. He shuddered against her as he pumped his hips one
last time and clung to her ass with bruising fingers as he filled her with his seed.
And hopefully a baby.
She smiled at the thought and snuggled her face against his neck, loving him more with
every breath.
A knock on the door echoed in the small space. Myrna started, having lost sight of
where they were locked in a lovers’ embrace.
“Everything okay in there?” the flight attendant called in a worried voice.
“I’m feeling much better now,” Brian answered. “Thanks! I’ll be out in a minute.”
Myrna stifled a giggle against his shoulder and hugged him fiercely with both arms and
legs.
“How jealous would Sed be if I knocked you up on a commercial flight to Aruba?” Brian
said.
Myrna got tickled at the thought of Brian and Sed competing for the best place to knock
up their women. She was sure Sed would try to one-up Brian, and there was no telling
where he’d fuck Jessica to win accolades.
“Please don’t bet him,” she said between giggles. “Should you lose, I’m not sure I could
stand having to look at another nauseatingly adorable tattoo on your ass.”
“I thought you were fond of Fluffy and Precious,” Brian teased, using the pet names
Myrna had given to the calico kitten and unicorn he sported on his ass thanks to the bet
he’d lost to one obnoxious drummer—aka Mr. Eric Sticks.
Myrna stretched her arm out to squeeze his ass. “I don’t mind them one bit as long as I
don’t have to look at them.”
“So you don’t want to install a mirror over our bed to watch my ass as I pump into you?”
She shuddered in mock revulsion. “Only if you want me to laugh at you the entire time.”
“I think that would be a little hard on my ego.”
“And my ability to come.”
“I could get it removed or covered with something less horrible.” He pulled out of her
slowly and waited for her to lower her feet to the floor before releasing her.
“A bet’s a bet,” she said with a sigh, checking out the tattoo in question and shaking her
head at the adorable kitten riding a unicorn, a brilliantly colorful rainbow in the background.
“You really need to get revenge on Eric for designing that monstrosity.”
“What about Jace?” Brian said, washing his hands and cock in the tiny sink.
“You know he wouldn’t have chosen something that abhorrent on his own.”
“I’m not so sure.” Brian pulled up his pants, covering the topic of their conversation under
denim. “Jace may be quiet, but he’s not as sweet and innocent as he pretends to be.”
Myrna cleaned up as best she could with toilet paper and a wet paper towel, thinking
men had it so much easier in such situations. She wriggled into her panties, bumping into
Brian several times in the small confines of the bathroom. When she was semi-decent
again, Brian wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and used it to tug her toward him
for a tender kiss.
“I love you, Mrs. Sinclair.”
“I love you too.”
“Do you think everyone on the plane knows why we’re in here together?”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Are you embarrassed?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Blessed.”
“We’ll see if you still feel that way after our walk of shame.”
“Except I’m not ashamed. Not at all.” Jeremy had made her feel shame for her sex drive,
but she wouldn’t allow herself to feel that way ever again. She smiled at her second
husband, who was definitely the better one—no contest. “Welcome to the mile-high club,
baby.”
“I’m glad I waited to join it with you.” He grinned at her, pecked her on the tip of her
nose, and then opened the door.
The guy standing at the front of the line lifted an eyebrow at them, but didn’t say
anything. Myrna walked back to their seats, her arm behind her so she could hold Brian’s
hand as he followed. Most people averted their eyes, but the overzealous fan who had
been behind them in line in the terminal lifted a hand to give Brian a high five.
“Get some,” Kev said, and his soon-to-be-wife tittered with a round of giggles.
Myrna was glad when Brian didn’t high-five him or comment but kept right on walking. He
released Myrna’s hand when they reached their seats, and she slid in to sit by the window.
When Brian sat beside her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her
against his side for his customary round of after-sex cuddling. He was far more affectionate
than she was, but she no longer tried to fight his attention. In fact, she liked his tenderness
more each day. Nights without him while he was on the road were so lonely that she
sometimes cuddled with her pillow and pretended it was him. Unfortunately, pillows didn’t
hug back. She settled in next to him as close as possible and breathed in his intoxicating
scent.
“I hope you’re thinking about what you want to do for your adventure,” Brian said,
rubbing his cheek against her hair. “Because it’s going to be hard to top that one.”
She laughed and gave him a squeeze. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something you’ll never
forget.”
But she was all talk. She had no idea how she was supposed to figure out something
more mind-blowing than what they’d just experienced.
Chapter Four
Inside their penthouse suite, Brian dropped his keycard on the kitchen counter and
rushed to the glass door that led to the balcony. The cerulean ocean stretched before him
until the water met the horizon and blended into an all-encompassing swath of blue. Below
him¸ tall palm trees swayed in the strong onshore breeze and a few beachgoers dotted the
white sand and walked in the rolling waves of the surf.
“What an amazing view,” he said, awed. He’d always loved the ocean and had been
partial to his native Southern Californian beaches. Until now.
“I’ll say,” Myrna said.
When he glanced over his shoulder at her, she wasn’t looking at the beach at all.
“Are you staring at my ass?”
“At the moment, yes, but the entire package looks amazing to me.”
“I’ll give you the entire package,” he said, taking her by the wrist and tugging her into his
arms so he could kiss her deeply.
“Please do,” she murmured against his lips.
“You sure you can handle it all?”
She turned him around and slowly walked him backward until his calves bumped into
something solid. Next thing he knew, his shorts were around his ankles and he was seated
on a comfortable patio sofa. Myrna sank to her knees in front of him and used both hands
on his thighs to spread his legs. Eyes focused on his, she grasped his shaft in one hand.
“Let me know when you think I’ve handled it all,” she said, her soft pink lips twisted in a
wry grin.
She used one hand to gently massage his balls. The other stroked his length with a
tantalizing touch that merely skimmed the surface of his skin—and instantly had him
squirming with excitement. The entire time she handled him, she held his gaze locked with
hers. He couldn’t look away, even though the gorgeous ocean served as a spectacular
backdrop to his beautiful wife.
“Use your mouth.” He’d meant it as a demand, but the words came out as a plea.
“You implied I couldn’t handle it all,” she said. “You said nothing about my mouth.
Besides, I know I can’t get the whole thing in my mouth without dislocating my jaw and
taking years of sword-swallowing lessons.”
He grabbed his shaft in one hand. “Swords wished they were this thick,” he teased.
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” she said, most seriously. “Sequoia-swallowing lessons, then.”
He chuckled and released his grip on his dick to stroke a silky lock of hair from her
cheek. He traced her upper lip with his thumb. “You don’t have to take it all. Just the most
sensitive part.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
“I always have your best interests at heart.”
“Then why am I the one on my knees?” she challenged.
He’d happily reciprocate with his mouth on her most sensitive part, but she’d started this.
“Because you love me.”
“Are you a lucky guy or what?”
“The luckiest,” he said and then groaned when she lowered her head to tease his nuts
with her clever tongue.
He squirmed when her breath blew gently against the wetness she’d left behind.
“I hope you’re ready to make a beautiful baby, little guys,” she said to his balls.
“Little guys?”
“I was talking to your sperm.”
Brian snorted and tugged her from her knees, encouraging her to straddle his lap.
“They’re ready,” he assured her.
Buried inside her, lost in the bliss her body always gave to his, Brian wasn’t sure what
prompted him to open his eyes. But what he saw just above the balcony railing near the
wall made his blood boil. Myrna grunted in protest as he lifted her from his lap and tossed
her none too gently on the sofa before jumping to his feet and making a mad dash for the
railing. In his haste he stumbled over the shorts around his ankles. An instant before he
grabbed the smartphone attached to one of those selfie poles, it disappeared around the
wall between their balcony and the one next to theirs. Brian jerked his shorts up and
climbed the rail, intent on claiming the piece of equipment that had completely violated his
and Myrna’s privacy.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Myrna yelled, grabbing the back of his shorts to pull
him back onto their balcony before he could climb to the neighboring one.
“Someone was watching us—or more likely recording us—with their goddamned
cellphone.” He shoved her hands aside and climbed the stone railing again.
“Then go around and knock on their door. You’re going to kill yourself!”
He glanced down the near-fifty feet between his head and the ground and slipped back
off the railing and onto the balcony. He was so pissed, he wasn’t thinking clearly. Lucky for
him his wife was more rational than he tended to be.
“Someone is about to get their ass kicked,” he said and rushed through the suite to the
exit. Once in the hall, he banged on the neighboring door and waited for a response. What if
no one answered? Then what?
Then he would take it up with the hotel manager.
“Open the fucking door!” he bellowed. “I know you’re in there.” He pounded again, going
so far as to jiggle the handle.
He was surprised when it turned in his hand and the door eased open.
“Will you look who it is, Gail? I told you it was him out on the balcony getting him some
more, didn’t I?”
The fan from the airport? No fucking way.
“Give me your cellphone,” Brian demanded, extending a hand in the guy’s direction.
“Now!”
“Hey, if you want me to have your number that badly…”
Brian jerked the device from the man’s hand and checked his photo stream for videos or
pictures of himself and Myrna. He discovered a lot of video footage of various rock
concerts, but no sex videos.
“I’ll need to see your girlfriend’s phone too,” Brian said, checking through the videos one
last time in case he’d somehow missed one of Myrna pleasuring him with her hands and
mouth, or riding his cock on the patio sofa. But nope, nothing.
“Normally I wouldn’t let a guy hit on my girl,” Kev said, “but I’d let you bang her on our
wedding night.”
And why would Brian want to do that when he was already married to his perfect
woman? His perfect woman touched his arm and stood on tiptoes to peer around his
shoulder.
“Well?” Myrna asked.
“Nothing on his phone. Just need to check his woman’s.”
“Why do you need to check our phones anyway?” Kev asked.
“Because I saw you recording us with your phone while we were on the balcony,” Brian
said, taking Gail’s phone and checking her photo stream.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Kev said. “Is your room next to ours?”
“Obviously.” The dude had just said he knew they were on the balcony getting some—
was he completely stupid? Brian’s frustration escalated as photo after photo of a very fluffy,
very orange Pomeranian graced every image in Gail’s phone. There wasn’t anything
remotely related to him and Myrna saved to her files.
“That’s Peaches!” Gail said. “Oh, I miss her so much already. I wish we could have
brought her with us.”
“Sometimes I think she loves that dog more than she loves me,” Kev said and shook his
head.
“There isn’t anything on here either,” Brian said to Myrna as finished flipping through dog
pictures.
“Maybe you were seeing things,” she said. “And are you sure you saw it from this side
of the balcony?”
He was sure. At least he had been until both phones came up evidence-free.
“Maybe I was mistaken.”
“If you two are free for dinner, we’d love to take you out. My buddies will never believe
that A, I met Brian Sinclair. B, he’s staying in the room next to mine. And C, he had dinner
with me.”
“No,” Brian said, without consulting Myrna. He was pretty sure they’d be on the same
page here. “We already have plans.”
“No offense, but it’s our honeymoon,” Myrna said, sounding slightly apologetic. Brian had
no idea why. “We just want to spend time alone together.”
“In private,” Brian added, still convinced that one of these two—probably Kev—had been
spying on them.
“I understand,” Kev said dejectedly as he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, if you
change your mind…”
“We won’t,” Brian said and spun Myrna toward their open hotel room door.
He ushered her inside and closed the door. He wanted to be alone with her, sure, but
mostly he wanted to get away from Kev and Gail. They made him uncomfortable, though he
couldn’t put his finger on why.
“What has gotten into you?” Myrna stood just inside the room with both hands on her
hips and eyeing him with disapproval.
“What are you talking about?” He honestly had no idea.
“I’ve never seen you act so rude toward a fan. Ever. First you blew him off on the plane
and now you go barging into his room accusing him of recording us with his phone and then
you reject his invitation to his wedding and to dinner without so much as an apology.”
“You want to go to their wedding and to dinner with them?”
“Hell no, but you could show a little common courtesy. He obviously idolizes you.”
“A lot of people idolize me,” he pointed out.
“I know. It’s just when you start to take that for granted—”
Oh. “I become a self-involved prick.”
She smiled and relaxed her stance. “And that’s not who you are.”
That’s who his father had been. Brian had promised himself long ago that if he ever
came close to equaling his father’s phenomenal success as a guitarist, he’d never take his
fans for granted and he’d never make his family feel as if they weren’t the most important
part of his life. So if he was already breaking his first promise, what was to say he’d be
able to keep the second one?
“Should I go apologize to them?” Brian asked.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said. “They are pretty weird.”
He laughed.
“But if we run into them again, try to be a little nicer.”
“I’ll try. But if I catch him spying on us again, I will stomp on his face.”
“If you’re sure it’s him, I won’t stop you.”
He drew her into his arms and kissed her slowly, deeply, hoping she could feel how
much he loved her through the touch of his lips and the rapidly engorging ridge in his shorts.
“Where were we?” he murmured.
“Before I get all wrapped up in you again, you need to call Trey,” she said.
“You’re kidding, right?”
She shook her head. “He’ll be worried. I’m surprised he hasn’t called you ten times
already.”
“I still have my phone in airplane mode,” Brian admitted.
“Well, that explains it.” She laughed and drew away. “Don’t talk too long,” she said as
she walked through an open door and disappeared into the bathroom.
Brian fished his phone out of his pocket and after adjusting his settings, dialed Trey. He
didn’t bother reading the multitude of text messages or listen to his voicemail.
“What the hell, dude?” Trey answered. “Where are you? Why aren’t you answering your
phone? I even tried calling Myrna’s. I was starting to think you were dead.”
“This is the morgue…” Brian said, doing his best to disguise his voice by speaking at a
lower pitch than normal. “We found this phone on a dead body. Can you come down and
identify the remains?”
“That’s not even funny, Brian.”
Brian chuckled. “How did you know it was me?”
“Because,” Trey said. “You suck!”
“In general or at disguising my voice?”
“Both. Where the hell are you?” Trey sounded uncharacteristically pissed off.
“I’m in paradise with Myrna.”
“What? You’re in Aruba already? I thought you were leaving tomorrow. Or are you
talking about Myrna’s pussy again?”
Brian did like to praise her pussy. “Both. We had a change of plans.” He heard the water
in the shower turn on, and a moment later Myrna was singing “Come and Get Your Love.”
Badly. He grinned and wandered into the bathroom to watch her performance. And to get
his love.
“I packed a bag, and I’ve been sitting around all day waiting—”
“That’s what you get for inviting yourself to my honeymoon. I gotta go.”
“Brian...”
“Bye.”
“When will you be back?”
“In time for the tour. Tell Sed for me.” He hung up and dropped the phone on the sink
counter before shedding his clothes and climbing into the shower behind the sexy woman
who owned his heart. It didn’t matter to him that she couldn’t carry a tune. He loved her
anyway. He joined in to make her song a duet while he filled his hands with her curves.
“You’re fine and all mine and always divine.” Not the exact words, but he couldn’t
remember them with the blood from his head draining into his dick.
“Come and get my love,” she said and turned in his arms. She burrowed her fingers into
his hair and tugged his mouth against hers.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Chapter Five
Myrna snuggled into her pillow and reached across the bed for Brian. She’d expected
him to be sound asleep with exhaustion after their romp in the shower that had culminated in
the comfortable king-sized bed, but the space beside her was empty. She lifted her head
from the pillow and through the patio door spotted him standing against the balcony railing.
He faced the ocean, his naked masculine form silhouetted by the orange globe of the
sinking sun. Her girlish heart skipped a beat at the sight. She hadn’t known she still
possessed a girlish heart before this man had become the most important facet of her life.
Wrapping a sheet around her nude body, Myrna rose from the bed and approached her
husband. Her heart thudded with the anticipation of his touch, his kiss. She wondered if he
would always make her pulse race. She was sure that even if they were both in their
nineties and living in a nursing home, the sight of him—hell, the thought of him—would make
her heart flutter. There was only one thing missing from her happily ever after, but it wasn’t
from lack of trying. She pressed a hand to her lower abdomen and prayed for the miracle
she wanted to share with Brian. Maybe she’d already conceived. But wouldn’t she know if
she had? She didn’t feel any different. Surely creating a new life that was a mix of herself
and the man she loved would make her feel something.
“I thought you were asleep¸” Brian said.
She lifted her gaze to his and smiled. “I was. Is there a reason you didn’t want to share
the sunset with me?”
His arm circled her back, and he tugged her against his side. He placed a kiss near her
temple and said, “I didn’t want to disturb your rest. I figured you were tired.”
“I did enjoy that nap. Why aren’t you resting?”
He shrugged. “I’m not really tired. I guess I’m used to traveling.”
And it kept them apart far more than she liked. It also made getting pregnant
exceedingly difficult. Maybe someday she’d be able to join him on tour, but her current job
situation wouldn’t allow it. She was already pushing boundaries by taking off on her
honeymoon in the middle of the semester. She had probably overplayed the “recovering
from the accident” card, but when she’d glimpsed mortality, she had realized that the only
thing in her life she couldn’t live without was Brian.
“Hold on,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Myrna turned to watch him go into the suite. Yes, the sunset was spectacular, but it was
no match for the allure of Brian Sinclair wearing nothing but her undivided attention. He
switched on the kitchen light, and she could see him rummaging around, but she couldn’t tell
what he was doing. A few moments later he returned with a bottle of champagne and a pair
of flutes.
“I figured a toast was in order,” he said.
She remembered when he’d toasted her on their wedding night. He’d drenched her in
champagne and licked it off her body. She wouldn’t mind a repeat performance, but tonight
he played gentleman. After popping the cork, he poured them both a glass of champagne
and set the bottle at their feet.
“To Myrna,” he said, tilting his glass toward her. “More beautiful than a sunset, more
precious than diamonds, and finer than silk. I love you more with each breath I take.”
Her husband was an incurable romantic.
Myrna lifted her glass. “To Brian, who’s forgotten that champagne tastes better like
this.”
She lifted her flute and tilted it toward her chest, a large drop splashing onto her chest
before Brian caught her hand.
“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, his intense dark eyes locked with hers.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she wet her lips in preparation for his kiss.
“But sometimes I’d like a moment to enjoy your company outside the bedroom.”
“Technically, we’re not in the bedroom,” she said.
He chuckled. “Baby, with you, everywhere is the bedroom.”
“Then you have no choice. The only place to enjoy me is in the bedroom.”
He shook his head, his lips twisted in an amused smile. “You’re too clever for your own
good.”
He claimed her lips in a heated kiss and then pulled away, his forehead resting against
hers.
“Let me try this again,” he said, and lifted his glass once more. “To Myrna. Sexier than
sin. Hornier than Trey.”
She snorted, thinking she could give the guy a run for his money.
“More irresistible than a cold beer on a hot afternoon.”
“And far less romantic than her husband,” she said, fighting the urge to tackle him to the
deck and have her way with him. She knew she needed to allow these moments of
tenderness between them to play through without instigating mind-blowing sex. Well,
sometimes. Brian needed this kind of charming affection to make him happy, and she most
assuredly wanted him delirious with joy.
“He doesn’t mind,” he said.
“Yeah, he does. He’s just too sweet to admit it.”
“I am not sweet.”
“Whatever you say,” she said with an indulging smile. “Sweetie.”
So maybe she couldn’t give him a baby as easily as they’d anticipated, but she could
meet his other needs. Even ones she didn’t necessarily share.
“I raise a toast to my dearest husband, Brian. Sexier than an Italian sports car. Sweeter
than syrup. More romantic than a sunset on the beach.”
Which they were missing because they were so wrapped up in each other. Not that she
minded.
“What else?” he prompted.
She searched her brain for similes. “More tender than a Crock-Pot roast.”
He laughed, the arm around her back tightening to pull their lower bodies closer. “See,”
he murmured, “you are romantic. No one has ever compared me to a hunk of meat before.”
“You don’t hang around your groupies much, do you?”
“Not if I can help it.” He lifted his glass once again. “To us. Two very different people
perfect for each other.”
She’d definitely drink to that. Eyes locked with Brian’s, she smiled and clinked her glass
against his before sipping her champagne. She’d wanted to come up with some unique and
unusual way or place to make love to him while they were here, but it occurred to her that
her planning something heart-stoppingly romantic would be much more meaningful to him.
And knowing Brian, she also knew that if she romanced him, he would rock her world in the
sack. Or on the beach. Or wherever they ended up sharing the day together.
His lips tasted of champagne when she kissed him briefly, but she pulled away before
she got lost in him again. “I’ll be right back,” she promised and returned to the bedroom to
find her clothes. She needed to talk to the concierge before the hour grew too late so she
could plan a perfect day for her perfect husband.
“Where are you going?” Brian said as he entered the room behind her. “I thought we
were watching the sunset.”
Not bothering with underclothes, she pulled a pale blue sundress over her head and
presented her back to Brian so he’d zip her up. “We were, but it’s over.”
As he slowly tugged her zipper up the back of her sundress. “Oh. I was too wrapped up
in you to notice.”
Damn, the man said the most knee-weakening things. She was never going to be able to
outdo him in the romance department, but she was going to try on their honeymoon, by
God. “I’ll be back soon. I’m just going out to plan a surprise. For you.”
Over her shoulder, she watched a delighted smile spread across his gorgeous face.
“A surprise? Is it that sexual adventure you promised?”
His lips brushed against her shoulder, and she was half tempted to coax him into the
very inviting bed. But if she did that, she would have to delay her plans a day. Or, knowing
Brian’s insatiable sexual appetite, two or three days.
“It might be. You’ll have to wait and see. Are we going out for dinner tonight or staying
in?”
His hands slid around her body to her belly, and the brush of his lips became a seeking
caress up the side of her neck. “I don’t think I can keep my hands off you long enough to
behave properly in public.”
She was feeling the same way.
“Order room service while I’m out,” she said as she forced herself to step out of his
embrace.
He trailed her to the door, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was entirely naked and
partially aroused. It wasn’t something she could so easily ignore. She paused with her
fingertips on the door handle and took a deep breath, trying to cool her ardor enough to
face some stranger at the concierge desk.
“Change your mind about going out?” Brian said with a knowing smirk.
She wished she could get angry with him for being so damned distracting, but how could
she possibly ignore the man when he was naked and half—make that entirely—hard in his
ceaseless desire for her?
“One for the road,” she said breathlessly.
She collided with his hard body, her mouth seeking his as she drew him toward the
kitchen. She gasped when he lifted her skirt and planted her warm butt on the cold surface
of the countertop. And then he was inside her, filling her as only he could, claiming her in a
frenzy of excitement and desire and lust until she shuddered with release and he followed
her over the edge. Still buried deep inside her, he captured her face between his palms and
kissed her long and deep. When he drew away, her eyes blinked open slowly and if she
hadn’t already been boneless with satisfaction, she would have melted on the spot from the
intensity of his loving gaze.
“I love you, Mrs. Sinclair.”
“I love you, Mr. Sinclair.”
“Do you think you’ve had enough of me to leave now?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting.
“I’ll never have enough of you.”
He grinned and stroked her hair. “Right answer.”
His smile faded slowly as he stared into her eyes and then leaned in to capture her lips
with his. She got caught up in his kiss and in the warmth of his flesh beneath her palms.
She tugged her mouth free of his and rested her forehead against his shoulder. “I do
need to go talk to the damned concierge.”
“I don’t need a surprise,” he said. “Just being here with you is enough.”
Enough
wasn’t what she was going for. She wanted to blow his mind and make his heart
throb the way hers did whenever he opened his mouth. She hoped this concierge person
was better at planning romance than she was. She needed her very own Cyrano de
Bergerac under the balcony to tell her how to properly woo her husband. After a quick
cleanup in the bathroom and opting to wear panties after all, she left the suite and hurried
down to the lobby in search of romance assistance. She really envied women who were
naturals at this kind of thing. It wasn’t easy for her to admit that she utterly sucked at it.
Luckily, the concierge just happened to be one of those naturals Myrna envied.
“I usually help men plan these sorts of things,” the middle-aged blonde said as she
patted Myrna’s hand.
Myrna laughed. “My husband needs no help in the romance department. He always has
his head in the clouds. But I want to be the romantic one for a change. With your help, of
course.” She couldn’t believe she was actually flushing, but it was a bit embarrassing to
admit to a perfect stranger that she didn’t have a romantic bone in her body.
“So what kinds of things does he like?”
The woman had an accent Myrna couldn’t quite place. Dutch, maybe?
“He loves the beach. And beer.”
“You’re in the penthouse, correct?”
Myrna nodded.
“You have access to a beach palapa. It comes automatically reserved with your room.”
“A palapa? What’s that?”
“It’s a bed on the beach surrounded on three sides by curtains and open to a
spectacular view of the water.”
Myrna already had all sorts of erotic images racing through her head. “Oh, he’ll love
that.”
“How about brunch on the beach? We’ll have room service bring your meal to the
palapa.”
“That sounds wonderful. With beer for Brian?”
The woman’s pale blue eyes widened. “For brunch?”
“You underestimate how much my husband loves beer.”
“Perhaps you’d like to visit Balashi Brewery.” She started searching through brochures.
“Is it romantic there?” Myrna asked.
The woman chuckled. “Is beer ever romantic?”
How the hell should she know?
“We’ll save the brewery for another day. So . . . brunch in the palapa covers a few hours
of romance in the morning. What else do you have?” Myrna asked, reaching for a stack of
brochures.
The woman—whose name was Sharon according to her bronze nametag—insisted that
parasailing wasn’t romantic, though it was fun, so Myrna kept that brochure with her
brewery one for something to try later in the week. She settled on horseback riding on the
beach and a private dinner cruise followed by a stroll to a lighthouse to watch the sunset. A
perfectly romantic day for her perfectly romantic husband. Game plan in place, Myrna
shook Sharon’s hand.
“Thanks so much for your help,” Myrna said. “I’d have had him snorkeling with sharks
and skydiving if you hadn’t reeled me in.”
Sharon smiled warmly. “You should still do those things if you’re interested,” she
insisted. “How about on Wednesday?”
“I’ll ask him if he’s game and get back to you.” She didn’t want to make all the decisions
about their excursions while they were in Aruba. Just tomorrow’s.
“Perfect. I hope you enjoy your time together.”
“I’m sure we will,” Myrna said.
She enjoyed every minute with Brian, even if they were just sitting on the couch watching
reruns of The Munsters, dining on pizza, hot wings and beer, and wearing T-shirts and
sweatpants. But she was sure he’d be touched that she went to the trouble to try to be
romantic for him. He was easy to please that way.
Smile on her face and a spring in her step, Myrna started toward the elevator and
paused when she noticed that woman from the airplane standing at the front desk,
examining a stack of business cards. What was her name? Something with a G.
“Big plans for tomorrow?” G asked her, her gaze lifting from the card in her hand to
Myrna’s face.
“A few,” Myrna said.
“Have fun,” she said and walked toward the exit.
Myrna shook her head at the strange intrusion. It seemed like G—Gail!—had been
standing there waiting for her. Or waiting to talk to the concierge. But then instead of talking
to Sharon, Gail had just walked off. Myrna attributed Gail’s behavior to her general
weirdness and returned to the room.
She found the dining table covered with room service food for their dinner, but there was
no sign of Brian.
She made sure the Do Not Disturb sign was displayed outside before shutting and
bolting the door behind her. “Brian?”
“In here,” he called from the bedroom.
She’d figured that was where he’d wait for her. She entered the room and found him on
the bed. He was stretched out on his back, entirely naked, with several chocolate-dipped
strawberries resting on his lower belly to draw attention to his glorious cock.
“I thought you might like to start with dessert,” he said with a suggestive smile.
“I might,” she said, unzipping her dress. She doubted she’d need it for the rest of the
night.
Chapter Six
Brian stumbled over a step as Myrna led him blindfolded to some particular spot on the
beach. He knew they were on the beach because the sand was warm against his bare feet,
the cries of the gulls that had woken him that morning were much louder, and the sound of
the surf striking the shoreline was more than a distant lullaby.
“I’m sorry,” Myrna said. “I can’t even do this properly.”
“Do what?”
“Surprise you. Is your foot okay?”
“It’s fine,” he said, though his toes were smarting a bit from when he’d stubbed them on
some obstacle in their path. “And you’re doing great,” he added. “I’m totally surprised.” By
what, he had no clue, since she’d insisted he keep his eyes covered.
She urged him up several steps, and he followed without hesitation, trusting her
guidance even though she’d steered him into objects more than once on their trek from their
hotel room to wherever they were headed.
Myrna placed his hands on a soft platform. It felt like a bed, but he figured he was
mistaken; why would there be a bed on the beach? His stomach rumbled when the sweet
scent of pastries greeted his nostrils. And was that bacon he smelled? Oh God, food. He
hoped it was for him and not wafting over from someone else’s breakfast. He could really
use a hot meal. By the time he and Myrna had found their way out of the bedroom and into
the dining area for dinner, the feast he’d ordered had already turned cold and unappetizing.
Filet mignon lost much of its appeal when it was warmed in the microwave.
“Climb up here,” Myrna said, helping him navigate his way onto what still felt like a bed.
He cheated a little and looked down through the narrow crack at the bottom of his
blindfold. Smooth white linens crinkled beneath his hands and knees as he crawled up the
mattress. He was definitely on a bed on the beach. What in the world?
Myrna settled him in a nest of pillows, making sure he was absolutely comfortable
before she reached over and pulled off his blindfold. He blinked several times to allow his
eyes to adjust to the glare of the brilliant sunshine sparkling across the surface of the water
stretched before them.
“Surprise!” she said. “What do you think? Is it romantic?”
His heart thudded as it occurred to him that she was trying to be romantic for him. His
Myrna—whose romantic streak was normally hair-thin—had arranged this outing to give him
the warm fuzzies. And it had definitely worked. The location was spectacularly romantic, but
his wife’s gesture was what had his eyes strangely misty.
“It’s incredibly romantic,” he said around the tightness in his chest.
She beamed as if he’d paid her the best compliment she’d ever had and reached for a
plate of Danishes. She insisted on feeding them to him by pulling off pieces with her fingers
and placing them into his mouth. She made him wash the sweets down with ice cold beer,
which… yuck. But he choked it down without complaint because he knew that she was
being thoughtful and trying to please him, and there was no way he’d do anything to make
her feel like this wasn’t the best surprise he’d ever had, because it was right up there with
her agreeing to marry him and her telling him that she wanted to start a family. Eventually
his happiness got the better of him and he pulled her against his side for the closeness he
craved. Yeah, he was a badass, famous metal guitarist who thought he just might die if he
didn’t get to cuddle with his wife at that exact moment, and if anyone had a problem with
that, well, fuck them.
Myrna linked her fingers with his and pressed her face against his neck. Her warm
breath caressed his skin. The sweet scent of her hair and skin—vanilla with a hint of
coconut—filled his nose. He didn’t need the view of the ocean stretched before them. His
paradise was wrapped securely in his embrace.
“Should we pick out names?” she murmured. “Or will that jinx us?”
His arms tightened. Even now she was thinking about babies.
“I didn’t think you believed in luck,” he said.
“You’re right, I don’t. So if we have a boy, I think we should name him after your father,”
she said.
“Myrna, don’t do this to yourself.”
“And if it’s a girl, I like the name Olivia.”
He guessed they were having this conversation whether he wanted to or not.
“That’s pretty,” he said. “And I’d like to name my son after my dad, but we are never
naming a baby after my mother.”
Myrna turned her head and glanced up at him in surprise. “I thought you were close to
your mother.”
Close wasn’t the word he’d use, but they got along okay. “It isn’t that,” he said. “One
Claire Sinclair in the family is enough.”
She grinned. “How about Blaire Sinclair?”
He shook his head slightly. “No.”
“Flaire Sinclair?”
Brian laughed. “Flaire? Is that even a real name?”
“Or if we have triplets, we could name them Claire, Blaire, and Flaire Sinclair.”
“Triplets?” Having more than one at a time had never occurred to him. “I’m going to have
to get a second job.”
Her mischievous grin told him she was teasing, but then it faded and her expression
turned serious.
Myrna slid her free hand over the inside of Brian’s forearm and the tattoo of a dagger
and bloody roses there. Her finger stroked the name woven among the thorns and petals.
“If it’s a girl, we’ll name her Kara.”
Brian’s heart constricted and his arm tightened, crushing Myrna against his side. Would
the pain of tragically losing his little sister ever leave him? “She’d like that,” he said, his
breath caught in his tight throat.
Myrna rubbed his back, loosening muscles he hadn’t realized were knotted with tension.
“I think breakfast is getting cold,” she said after a long moment.
He released his grip on her and she shifted away, gifting him with a long, lingering kiss
before she settled to sit beside him in his pile of pillows. While she retrieved the trays of
food at the bottom of the bed and settled them over their laps, he lifted his gaze to take in
the spectacular view of the ocean. In the privacy of their curtained oasis, it was as if he and
Myrna were the only two people on the beach.
Well, almost. A person standing in the waves was the only exception to their solitude.
The man was facing him and yet it took Brian a moment to recognize that the man was Kev
and that he was staring right at him. How long had he been watching them? Kev lifted a
hand in greeting and then slunk off out of view. Brian had had it with that dude’s
invasiveness. He moved to climb from the bed and give that guy a piece of his mind and few
pieces of his fist. Myrna looked at him, brow lifted, when he bumped the tray she was trying
to settle over his lap.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked.
“That guy—Kev—was standing out there in the waves watching us.”
Myrna glanced over her shoulder. “He’s gone now.”
“I aim to find him and make him realize that we’d like a little privacy. Since he doesn’t
seem to understand things the easy way, he’s about to have it drilled into his head the hard
way.”
“You’re going to pick a fight with him?”
“I thought I’d start with a nice sucker punch to the nose.”
Myrna grabbed his arm before he could climb from the mattress.
“Don’t do this now,” she said, her tone pleading. “It will ruin our entire day. And I wanted
today to be perfect for you.”
“How can it be perfect when some asshole keeps spying on us?” He was still pissed at
Kev, but Brian was sort of—okay, extremely—weak when it came to refusing his wife’s
requests.
“He’s gone now,” she said, ever the voice of reason. “If you catch him at it again, I won’t
stand in your way.”
He knew she would change her mind when the fists started flying, but she was right.
Getting into a fight and maybe getting himself arrested or thrown off the hotel property
would ruin their perfect day together. He leaned back into his pillows again and tried to
breathe evenly so he could cool his anger.
“I forgot to mention it last night,” Myrna said as she settled beside him and lifted the lid
from her plate of poached eggs, bacon, and toasted English muffins. “His fiancée was
hanging around the front desk when I was talking with the concierge. I’m not sure it was a
coincidence. It seemed as if she was eavesdropping on my conversation.”
Brian shook his head in annoyance. “Do you see what you married into?” he grumbled.
She sent him a beguiling smile, her head tilted just so, and his breath caught.
“Oh, I see it all right,” she said, her eyes fixed on his.
And suddenly he didn’t give a flying fuck about his fame or people encroaching on his
privacy. All he cared about was keeping a smile on this woman’s face. And punching some
jerk in the nose wouldn’t make her happy. He hoped that sharing breakfast and stealing a
few kisses would.
After he finished his delicious breakfast with its great view and even better company, a
server took their empty dishes and left them alone. The breeze blowing in from the ocean
made the white curtains billow gently, but he was still a little warm. He peeled his shirt off
and tossed it on the end of the bed.
“That’s better,” he said with a contented sigh.
“I’ll say.” She knelt behind him and said, “How about a massage?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Her touch on the bare skin of his back was soothing at first—massaging away all the
tension in his muscles, driving away every care. But as was the status quo with his wife, her
touch soon turned sensual as her hands began to explore his chest and belly and biceps.
He turned his head to offer her a look of faux disapproval, but the heat in her gaze lit a
fire within him that would not be extinguished until he possessed her. He dragged her
beneath the covers and slid her skirt up her thighs, pulling impatiently at her panties until she
took mercy on him and removed them. He jerked the front of his shorts down, too impatient
to remove them entirely. Like a self-conscious novice making sure every naked body part
was covered, he found the slick, beckoning warmth between her thighs and buried himself
deep within her. His strokes were languidly slow as he focused on the feel of her beneath
him, around him, and touching places within him no one else had ever reached. This woman
consumed him on so many levels. On every level. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to
have found her.
He used a rhythm that matched the waves colliding with the beach at their feet and
allowed the music in his soul to enter his mind and fill his heart. He always heard music in
his head when he was inside her. He’d advanced to the point where he didn’t demand she
wait while he wrote the riffs and solos down on paper, or on the sheets, or even on her
skin, but he still heard the notes as clearly as he had the first time they’d made love.
Myrna’s body tautened beneath him, and he claimed her lips in a deep kiss to swallow
her cry of release. When her shuddering subsided and her hands loosened their grip on his
back, he drew away and stared down at her as he continued to fill her with slow, deep
stroke after slow, deep stroke. He took his time finding release, oblivious to everything
around him but the woman in his arms and the feelings she aroused in him.
When he came, he muffled a satisfied groan against Myrna’s sweat-damp throat, his
body shuddering with the intensity of his ecstasy. The strength in his arms gave out and he
collapsed on top of her, smiling in bliss when she wrapped him in her arms and pulled him
even closer against her.
“I don’t think we were supposed to do that here,” Myrna whispered in his ear.
“My beautiful wife on a bed on the beach? Can’t think of any other possible result with
that combination.”
“It was spectacular,” she murmured. “And we didn’t have to get sand in uncomfortable
places.”
“This hotel rocks,” he said, and Myrna chuckled, which made her pussy do very
wonderful things to his cock still buried inside.
“Remember when I said it would ruin my life if you laughed while I was making love to
you?” he asked.
“Ruin your life? That’s a little overdramatic, sweetheart.”
“Well, I lied. That feels fucking amazing. Laugh as much as you want while I’m inside
you.”
She laughed again, and his belly tightened involuntarily at the strangely exciting
sensation. Oh God, he needed her to do that again.
“A cow and a priest walk into a bar,” he said. “The bartender says, ‘Why the long face?’
”
Myrna burst out laughing, sending additional ripples of delight down the length of his
cock.
“I don’t think there’s a priest in that joke,” she said. “And it’s a horse that has a long
face, not a cow.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Whatever. Just keep laughing.”
“Speaking of horses,” she said, attempting to rise from beneath him. “What time is it?”
“Tickle time.”
Tickling resulted in the desired laughter, but she also squirmed and bucked her hips until
he was no longer inside her. Bummer.
“We have to get going,” she said breathlessly when he gave her tortured ribs a break.
“We have to be somewhere at noon.”
“Where?” he asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Well, if it’s only half as good as this surprise has been, I’m in for a treat.”
Less than an hour later, Brian found himself face to face with an enormous dapple gray
horse. He had wondered why Myrna had made him put on shoes and had changed out of
her skirt before they’d left the hotel.
“And I’m supposed to climb on this thing?” he asked Myrna, who was already astride a
sleek black horse and waiting for Brian to find his balls. Balls that had apparently fled the
scene when faced with riding an unpredictable ton of muscle, teeth and pelt.
“You don’t like horses?” she asked.
He didn’t have the heart to disappoint her after she’d gone to all the trouble to do
something romantic for him, so onto the horse he climbed.
“I do like horses,” he lied. He’d never actually been on a horse. He had stroked one’s
nose at a petting zoo as a child and almost lost a few fingers for his trouble, but he didn’t
tell Myrna that.
His heart was thudding like a jackhammer, but he managed to offer Myrna a brave smile
from his perch on the saddle.
“And I thought you looked sexy on a motorcycle,” Myrna purred, eyeing him in that way
that always made his belly tighten. If she was looking at him like that, he was guaranteed to
get some in the very near future.
They rode toward the beach, sand sucking at the horses’ hooves, but the animals
seemed to be used to it. Myrna rode with confidence—she’d obviously done this before.
Brian just tried not to fall to his death. He was positive that if he fell out of his saddle, the
horse would use him as a doormat to wipe the sand from its hooves.
“What are you doing back there?” Myrna called over her shoulder. “Come up here
beside me so we can talk.”
Brian bounced in his saddle slightly, having no idea how to get the horse to go faster. It
wasn’t like it had an accelerator. “Um, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he muttered under his
breath.
Myrna tugged the reins to pull her horse to a halt and waited for Brian to catch up.
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying this,” Myrna said.
“I’m trying to.”
“Have you ever been on a horse?”
“Not exactly, no,” he admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell the guide that when he asked?”
“Because he if he’d known, he would have tagged along, and I wanted to be alone with
you.”
She tilted her head and shook it slightly, a tender smile curving her pouty lips upward.
“Do you know how hard it is to get mad at you?”
“Why would you be mad at me?”
“Because you lied and put your life in danger.”
“I didn’t lie,” he said defensively. His horse shifted, and he slid sideways in the saddle.
He yanked the reins to keep himself from falling, and the horse tossed its gigantic head in
protest.
“Yes, you did. The guide asked if you had any experience riding, and you said you had
tons of experience.”
“He didn’t say riding a horse, he said riding. I’ve taken a lot of rides in my life. You
should know, since you’re my favorite mount.”
She leaned over and smacked his arm. “Brian Sinclair, you are impossible.”
He chuckled. “You know you like it.”
She glowered at him.
“Now show me how to work this thing before I fall off and break my neck.”
She gave him basic instructions on stopping and going, on turning, and on how to use the
stirrups to distribute his weight rather than yanking on the reins as if they were a lifeline.
Soon he was brave enough to urge the horse into a canter. And he was even having fun.
“Where did you learn to ride?” he asked Myrna.
“Oh…” she said, looking taken aback by his question. She tucked a stray strand of
auburn hair behind her ear and avoided his gaze. “Farm-girl requirement.”
He knew her well enough to know when she was hiding something from him. “Are you
sure there isn’t more to it than that?”
“I did ride a little when I was young. Growing up in the country, most of my friends had
horses. I never had one of my own until…”
Brian lifted an eyebrow at her.
“Jeremy bought me one as a wedding gift.” She cringed as if she’d just spoke an
absolute horror.
“Oh,” he said flatly.
“And after I got attached to her, he sold her to a feed mill as one of my punishments.”
“Punishment? For what?” He knew she liked to avoid all conversations involving the hell
her ex-husband had put her through, but he thought sharing what had happened was
healthier for her. And he was more than happy to have additional reasons to hate Jeremy
Condaroy. The guy was at the very top of his shit list.
She shrugged. “I don’t remember.” She leaned into her horse and yelled, “Race you to
that bent palm tree!”
Her horse dashed off at a sprint, and Brian’s mount took a cue from Myrna’s and raced
after her. The sand blurred beneath him as sure and steady hooves closed the distance
between the two horses. Brian could almost understand why some people enjoyed this—
the wind in his hair was exhilarating—but he didn’t feel he had enough control of the
enormous animal with a mind of its own.
Up ahead, a pair of riders approached. Myrna didn’t seem to notice as she was
determined to be the first to reach the bent palm tree in the distance. Brian recognized the
riders almost at once: Kev and Gail. Was it coincidence that they’d decided to ride horses
on the same day at the same time and on the same beach where Brian and Myrna rode?
Brian sincerely doubted it. He reckoned that Gail had been eavesdropping on his and
Myrna’s plans for the day.
Annoyed, Brian yanked the reins to turn his galloping horse in the opposite direction. The
animal apparently didn’t appreciate his rough treatment, but he did turn. Directly toward the
ocean. The horse dashed into the oncoming waves and deciding at the last moment he
didn’t want to take a swim came to a sudden halt. Brian went sailing over the horse’s head
and landed with an enormous splash somewhere in the Caribbean.
Chapter Seven
When Myrna figured out who the pair of riders approaching and waving excitedly were,
she cringed. What was with this Kev guy and his soon-to-be wife? She glanced over her
shoulder to see if Brian had recognized their uninvited company. She wasn’t sure why Brian
was racing directly toward the water, but her heart stopped for several beats when she
watched his horse stop short. Brian flew through air and landed in the water with an
impressive splash. At least he had a relatively soft landing. He was never going to let her
plan an outing again.
She slowed her horse and turned her in the opposite direction, hurrying to check on
Brian and make sure he hadn’t drowned. Even though he surfaced immediately, her heart
was thundering in her chest and her palms had grown slick with sweat.
“Brian!” she called as she dismounted and rushed into the surf to check on him. “Are you
okay?”
“I hate fucking horses!” he grumbled as he slogged toward the shore. Water flattened
his dark shoulder-length hair and dripped from his strong jawline. His off-black cotton shirt
and shorts were plastered to his body.
Myrna decided not to point out that it had been operator error that had sent him on a
trajectory with a dip in the ocean. Or that she thought he looked sexy soaking wet.
“I’m sure the horse didn’t mean to throw you,” Myrna said.
She glanced over her shoulder at the guilty animal and had to admit that the horse
looked rather amused. She cringed, hoping Brian didn’t notice that more than likely the
beast had purposefully gotten his revenge for being improperly handled by an amateur.
Brian stalked past her and stood looking up the beach with his fists resting on his hips.
His fury wasn’t directed at the gray horse that had discovered a stray bit of grass to nibble.
Brian’s anger was about to be unleashed upon the smiling couple headed their way.
Myrna hurried to stand in front of him to try to calm his fury. He tended to be easy-going
until he got pissed, and then he became a bit of a hothead.
“Brian, please be reasonable. He’s just a fan who wants to spend time with you. He
doesn’t mean any harm.”
Her words seemed to bounce right off of him; he didn’t even acknowledge that she’d
spoken. Touching his arm, shaking his shoulder, putting her face in his—nothing worked. He
completely ignored her.
“Brian!”
“You said I could punch him in the nose the next time he bugged us. You wouldn’t go
back on your word now, would you?”
“But—”
He lifted a hand to silence her, and she automatically flinched. She didn’t think he would
hit her—she knew he wouldn’t—but she’d been hit enough times in the past that it had
become an instinctual reaction.
She opened her eyes at his inrush of breath.
“You thought I was going to hit you,” he said, gathering her in his arms.
She pulled away—because he was wet, not because she was afraid of him.
“I would never . . . ” he said in a raw voice. “Myrna, I would never hit you. Ever.”
“I know that,” she said, but she didn’t have time to explain further, because they
suddenly had company.
“Dude,” Kev said with a hearty chuckle, “are you okay? I saw you take a dive off that
horse.”
“Yeah, I meant to do that,” Brian said dully and reached for Myrna’s hand.
He stared at her, his head shaking back and forth slightly as if he was too stunned to put
his thoughts into words. And they couldn’t very well have a very personal conversation with
Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber hanging on their every word.
She needed these two to get a clue. Immediately.
“I know you’re excited about meeting Brian,” Myrna said to Kev, “but it’s incredibly rude
of you to continue to harass him. To harass us. How would you feel if someone you didn’t
know followed you everywhere and interrupted your honeymoon?” She looked from Kev to
Gail and back to Kev. Both of them seemed to be surprised that she knew how to speak.
“Well?”
“I dunno.” Kev shrugged. “I guess I figured he was used to it by now.”
“Considering that this is his first honeymoon in Aruba, how could he be used to it?”
“Myrna,” Brian murmured, still looking entirely shell-shocked.
“I meant,” Kev said, “he should be used to people wanting to meet him.”
“You already met him,” Myrna pointed out.
“But I don’t have any proof. My boys back home think I’m making this shit up.”
Myrna shook her head at him in disbelief. “That’s what this is about? You want proof?”
So an ashen-faced, dripping wet, and unsmiling Brian permitted several unflattering
pictures of himself to be taken with Kev. And with Gail. And with Kev and Gail. And then
they wanted one of him with Myrna. And then one of Myrna, Brian and Kev. Followed by
another of Myrna, Brian and Gail. A few more of Brian by himself. They even stopped some
kind and accommodating passerby to take a group photo of all four of them.
“So you’ll leave us alone now?” Myrna asked after they had gotten their fill of pictures.
They had enough for a Brian of the Day calendar at that point.
“We’ll try to behave,” Kev said, climbing up on his horse again. “You just have no idea
how cool it is to be on the same planet as Master Sinclair, much less the same island.”
She actually did know how cool that was, but she was incredibly happy to see those two
leave. She turned to Brian with a flippant comment about the other couple poised on her
lips, but she found herself crushed against his chest before she could utter a single word.
“I would never hit you, Myrna. Not ever. You have to believe me. The thought of you
being in pain tears me up inside. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel knowing I was the one
who’d hurt you.”
He was still thinking about her flinching from him? Sometimes she forgot how sensitive
he could be.
“I didn’t think you were going to hit me, sweetheart,” she said, her voice muffled against
his chest. “It was just an automatic reaction. It had nothing to do with you.”
“And everything to do with him.” Brian’s final word dripped with so much venom that
Jeremy had likely just keeled over in jail from an unexplained case of poisoning.
“Jeremy is out of my life now.” But would he ever be entirely out of her head? He was
definitely there less frequently than he had been even six months ago, but his presence in
her thoughts still caught her off guard much more often than she’d like.
“Will you tell me what you did to make him sell your horse?” Brian asked.
She stiffened. She hated being thrown back into her past with Jeremy. She’d much
rather bury it than stare it in the face.
“I gave a cute waiter at the country club a thirty percent tip after I went riding one day.”
Brian’s arms tightened around her. “That’s it?”
She pulled away and looked up into her husband’s gentle brown eyes.
“Jeremy took it as a sign that I wanted to be the guy’s whore. I didn’t even notice the
guy was attractive until Jeremy started yelling at him for looking at me.”
“How did you stand living with that guy?”
Myrna shook her head. “I wasn’t living when I was with him,” she said. “I don’t think I
really started living until I met you.”
His lips were trembling as he smiled. “Mrs. Sinclair, I do believe that’s the most romantic
thing you’ve ever said to me.”
She laughed softly and slid her hands down his back so she could grab onto his firm ass
with both hands. “Don’t get used to it.”
“You know what really sucks right now?” he asked.
She lifted an eyebrow at him. As far as she was concerned, nothing sucked about this
tender moment in his arms. “What?”
“That I’m drenched and you’re perfectly dry.”
Uh oh.
“Brian, you wouldn’t,” she said as he lifted her into his strong arms.
He grinned down at her flushed face. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I might get hurt,” she reasoned.
“Nope,” he said, splashing into the surf until the waves were crashing against his thighs.
“Just wet.”
She expected him to drop her into the ocean, but instead he sank down to sit in the
water with her in his lap. His tight hold felt as if he didn’t want to let her go. But maybe he
held her only because she had a death grip locked around his neck and he didn’t want to
risk decapitation.
“We could have put on our swimsuits first,” Myrna said as she tugged at the legs of her
capris, which were twisted uncomfortably around her thighs and calves.
“I thought we were being adventurous today.”
She snuggled up against his shoulder and then spit salty water out of her mouth as a
rather aggressive wave washed over her face. “The concierge assured me that horseback
riding was more romantic than skydiving.”
“Depends,” he said. “If we did a tandem dive, we might get in a quickie before we
crashed to our deaths. Double suicides are intensely romantic.”
Another wave washed over Myrna’s face, and she sputtered. “Okay, I’m starting to think
you’re trying to drown me.”
He tipped his head, studying her as if realizing for the first time that her head was lower
than his. So while the waves were churning about his broad shoulders, they were mostly
sloshing over her mouth and nose.
He scooted back toward the shore, pulling her with him until they were both safe from all
but the tallest waves. He settled her on the sand between his legs, wrapped both arms
around her, and rested his chin on her shoulder.
Myrna couldn’t remember the last time she just sat and stared into nothingness until her
mind went blank and she truly relaxed. Something about the repetitive sloshing of the waves
sent her into a deep calm—a highly unusual state to find herself in when her virile husband
was pressed against her.
“Something is nibbling on my toe,” Brian murmured after a long while. “But I’m too
relaxed to care.”
“Where’s your shoe?”
“I lost it when I fell in. I’m sure a hermit crab is inside of it, designing a spacious new crib
at this very moment.”
She laughed at the thought of a crab dragging around a size twelve skull-patterned
Vans.
“We should head back to the room and change,” she said. “We have to be somewhere
in about an hour.”
“You’re not going to make me get back on that horse again, are you?” he asked.
“We can walk back to the ranch,” she said.
She wiggled out of his grasp and struggled to find her footing in the ceaseless onslaught
of waves. She offered Brian a hand and he stared up at her uncertainly.
“Does our next adventure involve large hooved mammals?”
She chuckled and shook her head.
“Large toothy fish?”
“I hope not,” she said.
He groaned at her lack of a guarantee.
“Well, if you don’t want to join me, I’ll just go by myself,” she said, turning to trudge up
the beach, water pouring from her body, wet sand sucking at her tennis shoes.
She suppressed a triumphant smile when Brian came up behind her and wrapped his
arms around her waist to stop her. He linked his hands with hers and pressed them into her
belly.
“You know I want to spend every moment with you,” he said, “even at my own peril.”
She smiled and angled her head to look up into his eyes. Their gazes locked and the
heat of their ceaseless desire for each other passed between them. He leaned in slowly
and brushed his lips across hers.
A cool droplet of water dripped from his hair and struck the top of her breast, sliding
along her suddenly overwarm flesh to disappear into her cleavage. A shiver of excitement
raced along her nerve endings, converging between her thighs.
“Are you sure you don’t want to ride back?” she asked. “It would be faster than
walking.”
“I’m sure.”
“And I really want to hurry back to the hotel to get you out of these wet clothes.”
Her hint of suggestion was all the convincing he needed to ride behind her on the larger
of the two horses. The well-behaved animals had waited patiently for them beneath a copse
of palm trees, as if they were used to being abandoned by love-struck couples.
Brian rubbed the undercurve of Myrna’s breast with his thumb as he held onto her during
their ride back to the stable. She was more than ready to toss him into a nearby pile of hay
and have her way with him, but he was too busy boisterously relating his first adventure on
—and off—horseback to the laughing stable owner. Brian didn’t seem to recognize that she
was in desperate need of attention. Or maybe he was driving her crazy on purpose.
Throughout the shuttle ride back to their hotel, Brian repeated his tale of misadventure to
the driver. Perhaps their ride hadn’t been all that romantic, but apparently it had made an
impression on him.
When they reached their room and Brian did nothing more than toss his single shoe and
wet clothes in the bathtub before drying off and reaching for a clean outfit, Myrna began to
suspect that something was wrong.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked, standing next to the bed entirely naked, which
was usually his cue to get down and dirty.
He tugged a clean shirt over his towel-dried head. “What do you mean?”
She crossed her arms over her bare breasts and shrugged. “It just seems like a good
opportunity to make love.”
“I thought we had to be somewhere in a few minutes.”
She checked the clock. “They’re supposed to call the room when our ride gets here. We
have some time.”
“Some?”
She grinned when he took his shirt back off and tugged her down onto the bed.
He was balls deep inside her when the blasted phone rang. Myrna fumbled for the
receiver, trying not to sound like she was involved in carnal pleasures when she answered.
“Hello-oh-oh,” she panted as he found her spot.
“This is the front desk. The taxi you ordered has arrived, madam.”
“We’ll be right down.” She dropped the receiver, not bothering to hang it up, and slid her
hands down her husband’s rhythmically clenching ass.
“I knew we didn’t have time for this,” he said, increasing his tempo.
But she knew how to make him get off quickly. One expertly placed finger in his ass and
he shuddered uncontrollably, as he had no choice but to come.
“Oh God,” he groaned, his hands fisting in her hair as he found release inside of her.
“Why did you do that? You know I can’t walk properly after you make me come that way.”
“You didn’t like it?” she murmured, her finger moving within him to intensify his pleasure.
Entire body shuddering, he collapsed on top of her. His belly quivered against hers, and
she could feel his cock jerking inside her.
“Jesus, woman, you know I like it.” His lips moved against her throat reverently. “Did you
finish?”
The ring of the phone had thrown her off her game and no, she hadn’t come close to
finishing. “I’m okay. We don’t have time for me.”
“We’ll make time.” He slid down her body to pleasure her with his mouth.
Her game was soon back on and within minutes she was crying out as he delivered
consecutive home runs.
They were both a little wobbly in the knees as they made their way through the hotel to
the taxi waiting outside.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Brian said.
The cabbie took one look at them and grinned. “I’d have made me wait as well,” he said
as he opened the door for Myrna.
Once inside the cab, Brian immediately tugged her into his arms for a round of after-sex
cuddling and whispered I-love-yous. The cabbie didn’t bother trying to engage them in idle
chitchat on their way to the dock. But Myrna caught him sneaking glances at them in his
rearview mirror and grinning at the sickening displays of affection she shared with her
husband.
The sailboat was much larger than she’d anticipated, and she was a bit disappointed
when she discovered that they weren’t the only couple who were going to attend this dinner
cruise. Everyone else was onboard and either standing along the rail watching the water
and crew or seated at one of the tables on the deck. Even though the occasion wasn’t as
private as Myrna would have liked, it was definitely romantic. And her husband was
practically a puddle of melted goo by the time they were shown to their reserved seats.
“Now this is romantic,” he said as he reached across the table and took her hand.
“More romantic than being tossed into the ocean by a disgruntled horse?”
“Just a little,” he said with a soft chuckle.
Once the boat set sail, Myrna closed her eyes and reveled in the cool ocean breeze
against her skin. She’d probably gotten too much sun that day, but she was determined to
enjoy her temporary reprieve from harsh Midwestern winters. She wondered if she’d miss
the snow and ice when she uprooted and moved to California the following year. She rather
doubted it.
Brian scooted his chair closer to hers so they could both view the endless expanse of
crystal-blue water and so he could touch her. He seemed to think she’d evaporate if he
didn’t have at least one hand on her at all times. Not that she minded.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” the only waitress on board asked. The cheerful young
woman was busy, but not really overworked as there were only six couples to serve.
“Please,” Myrna said. She held the stem of her glass steady while the wine was poured.
“You, sir?”
“I don’t fucking believe this,” Brian said.
“Uh-um,” the waitress stammered. “I-I’m sorry?”
Myrna swiveled her head to give her husband a chastising look, but he wasn’t glaring at
the now nervous waitress or his wine glass. His glare was trained on the couple at the next
table.
“Well, hello there,” Kev called, offering a friendly wave. “We do keep bumping into each
other.”
“Ignore him,” Myrna said. She pushed at Brian’s chair so that his back would be toward
the intrusive couple.
“How can I ignore him?” Brian said between clenched teeth. “He never goes away.”
Now Myrna had no doubt that Gail had been eavesdropping on her the night before and
had taken note of all the times and places she and Brian would tour that day.
“Let’s enjoy dinner and pretend they don’t exist,” Myrna said. Her final plan for the
evening had been to take a stroll with Brian along Arashi Beach to the California Lighthouse
and watch the sunset, but she knew Kev and Gail would miraculously show up there too,
and that would not be romantic in the least.
Myrna worked hard at being flirty and attentive to Brian throughout dinner, but he was
tense and obviously struggling to keep his attention on her. By the time the boat docked,
Myrna was ready to stab someone in the eye with her high-heeled shoe. They hung back as
the other couples disembarked. They seemed to be in silent agreement that Kev and Gail
would be gone if they were last to set foot on land.
“That was a nice dinner,” Brian told her, his gaze trained on the gangplank that the
guests were walking down.
“Do you even know what you ate?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Seafood?”
“Are you asking?”
“Seafood,” he said with more certainty as he watched the waitress clear a plate with an
empty lobster shell from a table.
“I was planning on taking you on an evening stroll to see the California Lighthouse. The
best sunsets on the island are supposedly viewed from there.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Not tonight, it doesn’t. You know Kev and Gail will show up there, and you’ll get all
pissed off again.”
Brian rubbed a hand over his face. “So what do you want to do then?”
“We’ll just go back to the hotel room and barricade ourselves inside. At least there we
have our privacy.”
Brian shook his head in disgust. “You went to so much trouble to plan this out; it isn’t fair
that we have to hide out in our hotel room while they get the run of the island.”
“It’s a great hotel room,” she reminded him.
He grinned and nodded. “And it does have a perfect view of the sunset.”
“We won’t know what we’re missing if we skip the lighthouse.”
“And the company is far more important than the view anyway,” Brian said.
“Yeah, not having them in our company is much more important.”
He chuckled and kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you finally see things my way.”
When they decided it was probably safe to venture ashore, they walked down the
swaying gangplank to the dock. Turned out it wasn’t so safe after all.
“Hey, you two,” Kev said, “isn’t Aruba fantastic? I’m so glad we decided to get married
here.”
Without comment, Brian took Myrna’s hand and led her toward a taxi stand. She was
grateful to see a taxi idling there. She was not going to chastise Brian for being rude. Some
people deserved his rudeness—Kev and Gail, for example.
“Do you mind if we share a cab?” Kev asked as Brian opened the door for Myrna.
“Actually—” Brian began, but Myrna placed a calming hand on his chest. Not because
she wanted to protect Kev, but because the guy wasn’t worth getting upset over.
“Sorry, Kev, but we’d like a little alone time on our way to the lighthouse. I’m sure you
understand.”
Kev apparently wasn’t smart enough to realize she was baiting him or that he shouldn’t
know their next destination.
“Oh, yeah. I get it. I guess we’ll see you there then.”
The fact that Gail snapped two pictures of her with her cellphone was not lost on Myrna,
but frankly she was too worn down about the entire situation to make an issue of their
continued boorish behavior.
“Yeah, we’ll see you there,” Myrna said. She didn’t feel the least bit sorry about lying to
them. In fact, she hoped they sat around the lighthouse until dawn waiting for them to show
up. The fuckers.
Brian took Myrna’s hand and placed an unexpected kiss on her knuckles before assisting
her into the back seat of the cab. He saluted Kev with one finger to his brow—just
happened to be his middle finger—before joining Myrna inside the car.
“Sometimes I forget how smart you are,” he said before tugging her close for a toe-
curling kiss.
“So you’re heading to the lighthouse?” the cab driver asked.
“Go ahead and drive that direction,” Myrna said, “but don’t stop. We actually want to go
to our hotel, but take the scenic route.”
A lengthy make-out session with her husband in the back seat wasn’t a bad Plan B,
Myrna decided. They’d make it back to their hotel, Kev-and-Gail-free, eventually.
Chapter Eight
Brian released a deep sigh when he and Myrna entered their empty hotel room. Alone at
last. It turned out that their drive along the coast at sunset had been incredibly romantic and
they’d lucked out in getting a very discreet cab driver who seemed to expect them to paw
at each other the entire ride.
“Romance time is over,” Brian said, drawing his giggling wife into his arms. “The rest of
this evening is all about sex.”
“Thank God.” She captured his beard-roughened face between her palms so she could
kiss him with lips and teeth and a whole lot of tongue.
His dick had been half-hard in the cab; he was painfully ready for her now. They shed
their clothes impatiently on their way to the bedroom. He suckled and kissed every inch of
her delightful flesh, running his hands over her body needing to prove to himself that she
was really here and she was really his. When she began to beg for possession, her hands
pulling at his body with desperation, he climbed from the bed and rushed to his suitcase.
Myrna lifted her head from the pillows and arched an eyebrow at him. “What are you
doing?”
“I brought a few things to intensify the ride.”
He removed an toiletry kit from the suitcase and unzipped it. It was designed with
compartments for shampoo bottles and other toiletries, but he had packed it as an arsenal
of vibrators and lubes and other sex toys.
Myrna laughed. “You really brought that on the plane? Some TSA agent got a surprise
while inspecting your luggage.”
“I’m sure they’ve seen much worse.”
He removed two bottles of lube, one that went hot with friction and the other cold.
“What are you in the mood for, Mrs. Sinclair?” His wife never needed lube—her pussy
was always drenched for him—but he so enjoyed the extra stimulation granted by the right
marital aid. He smiled at thinking of his toys that way. Mostly because marital aid fit. He
was finally married to his perfect woman.
“Hot in front. Cold in the back.”
Brian froze. “You want to try anal again?” Did she forget that it was a skill he’d never
mastered?
“Yes. I. do.” Her voice had gone breathless.
“Okay, but you know I’m not very good at it. If you really want some good back-door
action—”
“If you say we should call Trey, I’m locking you on the balcony and making you sleep out
there with the seagulls.”
He had been about to mention Trey, but he wasn’t dumb enough to admit it. “I brought
this.”
He pulled a short, thick, bumpy vibrator from the case. It had two rings near one end for
a finger grip. He watched Myrna’s body quiver from where he stood at the side of the bed.
“That will do nicely,” she said, her hand sliding down her belly, fingers pressing between
her folds.
Brian watched her touch herself with his mouth hanging open.
“Are you going to keep me waiting?” she asked.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed, kissing her briefly before
flipping her onto her stomach, her legs dangling beyond the edge of the mattress and her
toes just touching the floor.
As he applied the hot lube to her slippery pussy, he made sure to rub a healthy supply
into her clit. He was sure he’d smeared enough into her flesh when she cried out with a
body-quaking orgasm.
“Brian,” she moaned, his name muffled against the covers where her face was buried.
He slickened her back entrance with the chilling lube and covered the vibrator with a
thick coating.
“Hurry,” she panted, squirming in anticipation.
He added additional warming lube to his cock before touching its head to her opening.
Standing behind her, he claimed her slowly, wanting her to feel every inch of him as he
entered deeper territory. When he had nothing left to give her, he slowly withdrew until he
was free of her body.
She groaned as he repeated his careful, slow invasion followed by complete retreat.
Again and again. Each time he pressed deep, he increased his tempo ever so slightly.
When he was certain she was focused on the feel of his cock inside her and nothing else,
he switched on the vibrator. Her entire body shuddered in anticipation. He grinned to himself
as he changed tactics—not giving her what she thought was coming. Instead he thrust into
her ever-hotter pussy faster and faster until she was rocking back to meet each thrust.
When her back arched and her pussy clamped down on his distractingly hot cock, he
touched the vibrator to her ass and slid it deep.
She came so hard, the feel of her clenching pussy almost pulled him along with her. And
dear God, the vibrator in her ass felt amazing against his cock. He began to experiment
with angles and tension and velocity, fighting orgasm for as long as he could as he found
the perfect motion of fucking her pussy and ramming that delightful vibrator up her ass. He
was so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he was only slightly aware of his wife’s
excitement—just enough to know she was getting off too.
He fleetingly thought he should have opted for a cock ring to prolong this experience as
he peaked and let go inside her. He wasn’t sure which of them was yelling louder, trembling
harder, or experiencing the most intense pleasure, but there was nothing in the world more
perfect than coming with his woman.
The vibrator, teasing his cock throughout his intense orgasm, became too much for him
to handle. Still twitching with excitement, he pulled it free and then collapsed on top of
Myrna’s sweat-slick back.
She murmured something unintelligible into the covers beneath her face, and he grunted
something equally unintelligible that he meant as, “What did you say?”
Myrna apparently understood after-mind-blowing-orgasm-Brianese, because she turned
her head and said, “I love you.”
He grunted an answering sentiment, his body still laboring for air, his mind still blank with
bliss. It took him a while to find the strength to move onto the bed and tug Myrna into his
arms. His face buried in Myrna’s sweet-smelling hair, a smile of contentment on his lax face,
Brian was almost asleep when she stiffened suddenly and sprang up, grabbing a pillow to
cover her naked breasts.
“There’s someone out on the balcony,” she said.
Chapter Nine
Myrna jumped when Brian leapt from the bed and raced for the patio door without
warning. By the time she tugged his discarded T-shirt on, he already had the peeping Tom
by the throat and crushed against the balcony railing.
She wasn’t even slightly surprised to recognize Kev at the end of Brian’s arm.
“Don’t kill me,” Kev shrieked as Brian’s rage gave him enough strength to lift the pudgy
guy’s feet off the ground as he pushed him back against the railing. Myrna’s heart thudded
in her chest as she approached them, trying to figure out how to prevent her husband from
winding up with a murder charge on their honeymoon.
“What the fuck are you doing on our balcony?” Brian yelled.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Kev said hoarsely. “She made me do it. And we can really use
the money.”
“What are you talking about?” Brian’s hand tightened until Kev’s eyes bulged.
When he started to choke and wheeze, Myrna decided she’d better step in. She gripped
Brian’s shoulder to gain his attention. “Brian, let him go.”
Brian’s normally intense brown eyes narrowed dangerously. “Before or after I push him
off the balcony?”
“Now,” Myrna said.
Brian’s grasp slowly loosened, and he took a single step backward, still crowding Kev
against the railing.
“You better start talking,” Myrna said to Kev.
“Gail, she’s really into celebrities.” Kev’s gaze darted from Brian to Myrna and back to
Brian. “So when we saw you at the airport, she looked on celebxchange.com and there was
a posting for you. Well, for you and your wife.”
“What is celebxchange?” Myrna asked. She’d never heard of such a thing.
“It’s where people buy and sell pictures of celebrities. Mostly regular people selling
celeb photos to tabloids.”
“Weird,” Myrna said, unable to wrap her head around the idea that people actually cared
enough about someone’s private life to buy pictures of it. She wasn’t one to follow tabloids
or even care what celebrities did in their free time. She was too busy living her own life to
be obsessed with someone else’s business. So to her, having pictures taken of her and
sold to a complete stranger was totally bizarre. It felt like it must be happening to someone
else, because why would it be happening to her? She wasn’t a celebrity. She was just
Myrna and when Brian wasn’t onstage, he wasn’t a celebrity either. At least she never
thought of him that way.
“So you not only took pictures of us, you sold them?” Brian said, his voice low and hard
with anger.
“Some of them. The buyer only wanted the ones with you two kissing or touching or
having sex. He didn’t want any of those pictures you posed for on the beach. He paid us a
thousand dollars apiece for the sexy ones, though. And the one Gail got of your wife
sucking your cock this morning? For that one he gave us five grand. Five grand, dude.
That’s a lot of cash.”
“Can I kill him now?” Brian asked, shifting his gaze to Myrna for a fleeting moment.
She was still puzzling over why this had even happened. “Who would pay that kind of
money for compromising pictures of us? It’s not like we’re superstars. And we’re married,
so catching us making love can’t be used as blackmail.”
Brian shrugged, and then his brows drew together. “I can’t think of anyone who’d want
to see us have sex, much less pay cash for it.”
“Eric isn’t that desperate, is he?” Myrna asked.
Brian laughed. “Uh, no. I highly doubt it.”
To Kev she said, “Do you know who the buyer is?”
Kev shook his head. “No. They used a screen name.”
“Which was?” Myrna pressed.
“Um, something weird.” Kev scrunched his face into a mask of concentration, and then
his eyes widened. “I remember—1724 Beechnut. Not like the ocean beach, but like the
beech tree.”
Myrna’s blood turned cold, and her knees went weak. Brian grabbed her as she
swayed.
“You know who it is?” Brian asked.
“Jeremy,” she whispered through the knot of fear in her throat. “I’m sure of it. That was
our address when we were married.”
Brian wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. “I thought he was in jail.”
“I thought so too.” They’d never been able to keep him in jail long. He had too many
connections in high places and too much money to be treated like an ordinary criminal.
Brian’s arm shot out and with a resounding crack, his fist connected with Kev’s mouth.
“You sold pictures to her fucking psycho-abusive ex-husband, you idiot!”
Kev covered his bleeding lip with one hand. “I didn’t know.” He glanced down at his
blood-streaked fingers. “Oh my God, Brian Sinclair punched me in the mouth. The guys
back home are never going to believe this.”
He actually sounded proud of his split lip.
“Why would Jeremy want pictures of us together?” Myrna asked, but she knew the
answer. Jeremy was still fixated on her. He still thought she belonged to him. He wanted
proof that she was the whore he claimed her to be. It wouldn’t matter to Jeremy that she
was married to Brian—she was fucking someone else, which in his twisted mind meant she
was cheating on him. Jeremy had falsely accused her of infidelity for the majority of their
marriage. He’d been obsessed with the idea, always trying to catch her at it, looking for
proof of her whorish adultery. He’d never managed to get proof because she hadn’t
cheated on him. However, the way Jeremy’s mind worked, he probably thought these
pictures validated his suspicions.
“We need to call the States and see if anything can be done about Jeremy getting those
pictures,” Brian said.
“So sorry about this,” Kev said to Brian. “I really do idolize you.”
Brian continued to speak to Myrna, his hand gentle and soothing against the tension in
the back of her neck. “First we’re calling the hotel manager to have this fucking asshole
thrown off the property. I don’t know if there are laws against spying in this country, but if
there are, we’re pressing charges.”
“But I’m supposed to get married in two days,” Kev said.
“You should have thought about that before you invaded our privacy,” Brian said.
“Gail is so going to kill me for getting caught.”
Brian urged Myrna back inside and had her sit in a chair while he figured out who to call
and how to deal with both situations. She was too shaken to be any help. It was more than
fear of Jeremy that had her rattled—she felt completely violated. Now she knew Jeremy
didn’t have to be standing over her with clenched fists, yelling angry words to make her feel
that way. He could pay other people to make her feel as if no part of her life—or even her
own body—truly belonged to her.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Brian urged her to her feet and then
sat in her vacated chair so he could hold her in his lap. He didn’t say anything at first,
merely stroked her hair and placed consoling kisses at her temple and cheek. He soothed
her as well as he excited her, and soon most of the tension had faded from her muscles.
She actually felt like she could function again. Like she didn’t have to lock herself inside her
own mind to get through this latest upset in her life. Brian did that for her. No one else had
ever been able to reach her the way he could with just a touch.
“Jeremy is out of jail on house arrest again,” Brian said.
Well, that would explain how Jeremy had Internet access. Prisoners had access to
multiple amenities while in jail, but the Internet wasn’t one of them.
“We both know how well that went last time,” she said.
“His parole officer was not pleased to learn that he attempted to have contact with you,
even if it was indirect. So he’s petitioning for a warrant for Jeremy’s arrest.”
“Are they going to keep him locked up this time?”
“That’s for the judge to decide. Jeremy didn’t contact you directly, so I’m not sure he
broke any laws. But it sure feels like he did something illegal.”
She shivered and buried her face in Brian’s neck.
“I don’t want to leave you in Kansas City alone,” he said. “Come on tour with me.”
“I can’t,” she said. Turning him down had less to do with her job responsibilities and
more to do with proving to herself that Jeremy could not make her live in fear for the rest of
her life. “I’ll be safe. I had that new peephole installed in my apartment door. Remember?”
“Then I’m staying with you. The tour has already been delayed; we’ll just cancel it for the
rest of the year.”
Myrna pressed a hand against his chest so she could pull away enough to stare him in
the eye. “You’re not doing that. Your fans would be devastated.”
He captured her face between his palms. “Imagine how devastated I would be if
anything happened to you.”
“I lived in fear of him for years, Brian. I can’t do it again. I won’t let him dictate any
aspect of my life. If it will make you feel better, I’ll get an alarm system. I’ll take more self-
defense classes. I’ll carry a weapon. But I will not let him terrorize me.”
“I understand what you’re saying, baby, but you need to understand what I’m saying. I
have to keep you safe. There’s no compromise in me on this one.”
She’d never had anyone care about her so much. And she almost gave in. Almost
agreed to pack her bags and go with him on tour or lock herself in a fortress. But to her,
that would mean that Jeremy had won, and she would not let him win this. “I’ll be safe.” She
kissed him passionately on the lips. She tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced
around the room, still feeling a bit disoriented, but much less traumatized now that Brian’s
attention had turned to her.
“What happened to Kev?” she asked. The creep was no longer in their room. She had a
vague recollection of some security guards coming to collect him a while ago, but she’d
been so withdrawn into her own head that everything that had happened in the last hour
seemed surreal. She wasn’t sure why she went into such a state whenever she found
herself deeply rattled. She couldn’t remember ever trying to block out reality by receding
into her own mind until Jeremy’s abuse had become unbearable. She hated that he still had
so much impact on her life. That so many of her emotional responses were still dictated by
the bastard. She was grateful that Brian’s presence could bring her back out of her head
space so easily. What would she do without him?
She didn’t even want to think about the possibility.
“They took him and Gail down to the police station for questioning. And they’ve both
been banned from this hotel property for life. I’m pretty sure their wedding had to be
cancelled, and I don’t feel the least bit sorry for either of them. Are you trying to change the
subject?” he asked. “Jeremy—”
She lifted a hand to silence his next words.
“I don’t want to talk about Jeremy or even think about him. I don’t want him to intrude
upon our honeymoon any more than he already has.”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea, but how the hell do we pull it off?”
She wrapped both arms around his neck and touched her nose to his. “Take me to
paradise.”
Chapter Ten
Brian almost shit his pants when he saw the paint job on the new tour bus. Their old bus
—the one that had been destroyed in the accident—had been a nondescript black with a
wide gray stripe. Any regular schmo could have been riding inside that bus. This one was jet
black with the Sinners logo painted boldly on the side in red. The devil girl whose tail made
up the final S in Sinners was taller than he was. After the crap that he and Myrna had dealt
with due to his notoriety, he sure as hell didn’t want everyone with working eyeballs to know
that he was on this particular bus.
He hadn’t wanted to leave Myrna in Kansas City by herself. Even though Jeremy had
been incarcerated again, Brian had Jeremy’s parole officer and the Kansas City PD on
speed dial, Myrna’s apartment was now fitted with the best security system money could
buy, and she promised to carry a Taser concealed in her right pocket and pepper spray on
her key fob, he would never feel that she was entirely safe. Unfortunately, she had refused
his idea of locking her in a tower surrounded by a moat filled with man-eating crocodiles
and hungry piranhas. So he was back on tour—begrudgingly—and she was in Kansas City
alone. At least the rest of their honeymoon had been uneventful. Comparatively. They had
gone skydiving and parasailing, walked miles and miles of beaches, taken a few snorkeling
adventures, and drunk watery beer at a brewery. But compared to those first two days on
the island, those regular tourist activities had been totally—blissfully—uneventful.
Still annoyed by the giant logo on the side of the bus, Brian stomped up the steps ready
to have it out with his entire band. His stomach churned at the sight of the new color
scheme. Everything was either black or red. From the appliances to the curtains to the
furniture to the fucking carpet. “What in the hell?” He rubbed his face with one hand, hoping
he was seeing things.
“Brian!” Trey rushed down the aisle to give him a bro-hug and pound him on the back.
“When did you get back? Did you forget sunscreen? How was your flight? Where is your
luggage? Did you have fun in Aruba?”
Brian chuckled at the barrage of questions but only answered the last one. “Of course. I
was with Myrna.” He’d probably tell Trey about the creepy fan and Myrna’s fucked up ex-
husband later, but he sure as hell didn’t want to spill his guts in front of everyone. “Why is
our logo painted all huge on the outside of the fucking bus?”
“Because our logo is awesome.” Trey lifted a fist for the requisite knuckle crash. Brian
humored him, but he wasn’t feeling particularly celebratory.
“We’ll have a convoy of groupies following us everywhere we go.” And maybe a few
freaks who sold celebrity photos online without any consideration for a person’s privacy.
“So the roadies can sell them T-shirts when we stop at rest areas,” Sed said with a
shrug. Of all his bandmates, Sed had the greatest following of groupies. There were
probably dozens of listings for his pictures on that fucking website. Brian wondered if there
was a way to legally shut the site down.
“And we can auction off the utilization of Trey’s lips for beer money,” Eric quipped.
Brian knew Eric was joking, but the very idea of prostituting out his best friend made him
queasy. Hell, he was being oversensitive. He guessed everything that had gone on with Kev
and Gail had gotten to him more than he’d realized. Yeah, he’d been mostly concerned for
Myrna’s safety, but the entire ordeal had made him wish he was a complete unknown.
An unfamiliar, feminine voice entered Eric and Trey’s round of jesting, and Brian looked
down at an incredibly petite young woman with platinum blond hair underscored by a layer
of cobalt blue. He’d never seen her before, but she acted like she belonged on the bus.
“Who’s this?” Brian asked when everyone had settled down.
“Our temporary FOH,” Sed said.
Brian’s jaw dropped. He’d have been less shocked if someone had claimed she was the
fucking queen of Venus. “Our new front of house is a chick?”
“Thanks for noticing,” the young woman said as she extended her hand in his direction.
He shook her tiny hand slowly, staring at her in utter shock. It wasn’t so much that she
was a chick that had him frazzled—she looked so young. So inexperienced. Dear lord, who
had they hired to handle his sound on stage, some intern still in school? Which of his
bandmates had been thinking with his dick instead of his head when they hired this cute little
thing?
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and glared at Sed—who was supposedly in
charge of all this logistical type stuff. “How did we end up with her as our FOH? I thought
Marcus was going to stand in for Dave.” And while Marcus was nowhere near as skilled as
Dave, at least he was familiar with their live show. Fuck. Did they just pick this chick up off
the side of the road? There was no way someone this young could be experienced with
running a live show as front of house.
“I have a degree in audio engineering,” the pixie-faced woman said. “I graduated in
June.”
His suspicions had mostly been correct—she didn’t have much experience. “As in June
of this year?” he asked incredulously. Not even five months ago she’d been sitting in a
classroom.
He seriously did not need to add to his list of worries. What the hell was Sed thinking
hiring someone straight out of school?
Trey grabbed Brian’s arm. “Dave’s little sister,” he said. “He trusts her with his trade
secrets. No one else. Just her.”
At least he knew where they’d found her.
“Yeah,” Dave’s sister said. “He gave me thorough instructions on how to set up and run
the entire show.”
Well, wasn’t that just peachy? Now nepotism was to blame for this sure-to-be fiasco.
“But our set list is changing to accommodate the new single,” Brian reminded them all.
Maybe remembering how complicated “Sever” would be to pull off live would help his band
mates remove their heads from their asses. “Totally uncharted territory,” he added, hoping
they’d see this his way. Marcus should be running the show. Brian didn’t care if Dave’s little
sister assisted the more experienced sound engineer, but she shouldn’t be in charge. What
the hell? “Piano intro. Bass solo. A vocal duet.”
“I’ll make it sound awesome!” The blonde thrust her fist in the air. “Just you watch.”
Brian lifted an eyebrow at her. What was this, third grade? “Dave needs to work out the
new mix, not some freshly graduated coed. Ummmm.” Brian looked down at the woman,
realizing that they hadn’t been fully introduced. “What’s your name, miss?”
“Reb.”
“Reb, I need to have a little meeting with my band. Would you excuse us for a minute?”
He looked at the exit, hoping she’d take his cue. He had a lot of not-very-nice things to say
about this situation, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. It wasn’t her fault that his band
mates were thoughtless idiots.
Her bottom lip trembled, and Brian felt like an asshole for discounting her without giving
her a chance, but this was business, and he was not willing to compromise his career as a
musician to appease anyone.
“Of course,” Reb said. She headed toward the exit.
Eric stopped her before she could leave the bus and asked her to move his car, which
lead to all sorts of teasing nonsense about Eric having a crush on the woman. Brian didn’t
have the patience for it though. “I didn’t call a band meeting to discuss Eric’s nonexistent
love life,” Brian said. “How could you guys just hire her without consulting me?”
“You were unreachable,” Sed said.
“That’s bullshit, Sed. You could have called me.” Unless Trey hadn’t told him where he
was and well, he had turned his cellphone off. “This isn’t some trivial decision you make on
the fly. Have you even seen her work?”
Sed crossed his arms and lowered his head guiltily. “Well, not exactly, but Dave vouched
for her. That makes her okay by me.”
Brian could not believe his ears. “Of course Dave vouched for her. She’s his sister.”
“So what do you suggest we do?”
He really had to say it? “Find someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing. How
about that?” He was beyond annoyed now. Now he was pissed.
“I think we should give her a chance before we fire her,” Jace said. Dude was so quiet,
Brian had forgotten he was present until he spoke.
“I agree.” Eric sided with Jace. “I think Reb will do fine. Dave wouldn’t throw her off a
cliff without a safety harness.”
Why was everyone ganging up on him? Brian was the voice of reason in this situation—
didn’t any of them see that? “Does Marcus know about this?” he asked.
Everyone turned their gazes away.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Brian said with a sigh. “You know Marcus wants the FOH
position. As monitor engineer, he has seniority.”
Sed shook his head. “I’d agree, except Dave’s coming back. We’re not giving Dave’s job
to Marcus. We owe Dave that. This is just temporary until he gets back.”
Brian’s heart panged. He hadn’t seen Dave for several weeks and the last time he’d
seen him, Dave couldn’t even turn his head without assistance. Brian rubbed a hand over his
face. “You know I hope you’re right, man, but let’s face facts: Dave’s paralyzed. How likely
is it for him to return?”
“He can move now,” Jace said, and Brian could see the hope shining in his dark eyes.
“We saw him a few days ago. He was moving. Wasn’t he, guys?”
Trey nodded. “Yeah. A little.”
Trey looked down at his hands and flexed them into fists. Brian knew he was thinking of
the time when he’d lost mobility in his hands after his head injury. Brian had refused to give
up on Trey. He supposed he owed Dave the same courtesy.
“We’ve got to give him more time to recover before we do anything hasty,” Trey added.
Eric smiled hopefully at Brian. “So we’re going to give Rebekah a chance then?”
Brian could feel his resolve crumbling. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Rebekah was
capable of running the soundboard for their live show. But maybe not. “I have a bad feeling
about this.”
“I have a bad feeling about your face,” Eric said, “but we still let you hang around.”
Brian suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and instead crossed his arms over his chest
as his nice side warred with his practical side. What was the worst that could happen?
They could suck like a black hole, lose the respect of the entire music industry, and be sued
by thousands of disgruntled fans for mental distress. But in reality, they’d probably just
sound a little flat.
After a long moment, he nodded. “Fine. We’ll give her a chance. I just hope I won’t be
saying ‘I told you so’ in three days.”
Eric beamed. “Great. I’ll go tell her.”
“Nope. I’m going to tell her,” Trey said, and the pair dashed off the bus.
“Am I missing something?” Brian asked Sed and Jace.
“Eric likes Rebekah,” Jace said with a grin, “and Trey just likes fucking with him about it.”
“So let me guess,” Brian said. “It was all Eric’s idea that we hire her.”
“We all decided,” Sed said. “But it was in front of Dave, so we couldn’t very well turn her
down.” Sed clamped a hand over Brian’s shoulder. “It will be fine,” he said. “And if it’s not,
we’ll have a good reason to fire her without looking like a bunch of ungrateful assholes.”
“So how was your honeymoon?” Jace asked.
“It was great for the most part,” he said and brushed past them to put his overnight bag
in his new bunk.
“Which part wasn’t great?” Sed asked.
“The part where a fan followed us around, took pictures of us, and sold them to Myrna’s
ex-husband.”
“What?” Sed asked. “Is Myrna okay?”
Brian nodded, trying to ignore a ridiculous twinge of jealousy that snuck up on him. He
knew Sed was just concerned for Myrna’s safety, but the history between him and Sed
always made Brian wonder if someday Sed would try to take Myrna away from him. Most
of him knew that Sed would never try anything that reprehensible, but part of him still
worried that they’d fall into the old pattern of Sed sleeping with Brian’s girlfriends.
Girlfriends but not wife, Brian reminded himself. Marriage was sacred to Sed. He wasn’t a
guy who took such things lightly.
“I’m surprised you left her in Kansas City by herself,” Sed remarked.
“They locked up her ex again,” Brian said. “Hopefully, this time it’s permanent.”
“She’s a smart woman,” Jace said. “She can take care of herself.”
Brian nodded. He knew Jace was right, but the knowledge didn’t stop him from worrying.
“So did you get her pregnant yet?” Sed asked.
And that was yet another thing for him to worry about.
Chapter Eleven
Myrna dropped her purchases in the foyer before locking the door behind her and
activating her new and elaborate alarm system. She did this not because she was afraid to
be in her apartment by herself, but because she had promised her unduly concerned
husband that she would always, always engage all the locks and set the alarm as soon as
she arrived home.
According to her calendar, she should have started her period the day before. But she
hadn’t! So considering herself officially late, she’d stopped by the pharmacy on her way
home from work and picked up an early detection pregnancy kit.
She pulled the box from her sack, which also contained her usual monthly supply of
tampons and sanitary napkins—she hadn’t wanted to be too optimistic—and sat on the sofa
to read the instructions. Seemed easy enough. Pee on the tip, see how many lines show up
after several minutes, and be consumed with joy or utter devastation, depending on your
particular situation. She could do this. No problem.
In the bathroom she was careful to follow the instructions to the letter. She set the
completed test on the edge of the sink and stared down at it, her heart trying to strangle
her, her eyes strangely achy, and her stomach doing backflips in anticipation.
One blue line appeared, indicating that the test had worked properly.
“Come on line number two,” she said, her hands curling into fists on the cold edge of the
porcelain sink as she stared down at the white stick. “Come on line number two. Come on.
Come on.”
Her vision blurred with tears when no amount of coaxing made the second line appear.
She wasn’t pregnant.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub taking slow calming breaths. It will happen, she told
herself. Just be patient. There’s always next month.
Or the month after that.
Or the month after that.
She wrapped her arms around her clenching stomach and leaned forward. She had to
tell Brian. He would want to know, even though the news wasn’t what they’d been hoping
for. She wished he was with her so she could tell him face to face. No, that wasn’t why.
She wished he was with her so he could hold her in his arms and tell her everything would
be okay. But he was on the road with his band. And she was here. Alone.
She scraped the failed pregnancy test into the wastebasket next to the toilet and
retrieved her phone from her purse. She checked the time to make sure he wasn’t onstage
and then called his number.
Trey—of all people—answered on the third ring. “Hi, Myrna. Watcha doin’?” he said in a
teasing tone.
“Hi, Trey. Can I speak to Brian please?” There. She sounded perfectly normal. Not like
she was dying inside.
“Oh, he’s much too busy to talk right now,” Trey told her.
“Give me the phone,” she heard Brian say in the background.
“Are you knocked up yet?” Trey asked.
Myrna’s heart shattered into a million pieces and she tried to speak, but the only sound
that escaped her was a strangled sob. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks, and she
sniffed loudly, gulping for air.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Brian said into her ear.
“My period was late . . . and I thought maybe . . . so I took a pregnancy test.” She took
a steadying breath that was anything but steadying. “It was negative.”
“We have plenty of time,” he said gently. “We’ll keep trying.”
“How am I supposed to get pregnant with you gone all the time?” She hated herself for
saying it the moment the words left her lips. It wasn’t his fault that she was thirty-five and all
of her eggs were dried-up, faulty husks incapable of producing the son he wanted.
“When will you be ovulating again?” he asked.
“Ten days or so.” If her stupid, ancient ovaries were even capable of ovulating.
“I’ll get on a plane and I’ll be there to take full advantage of you. I promise.”
She sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes on her suit jacket sleeve. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to snap at you. I just got my hopes up too high.” And had crashed and burned
over the lack of a simple blue line.
He was silent for a long moment, and then he said, “Myrna, we have to come to terms
with the idea that we may never have a baby.”
“Don’t say that,” she blurted out.
“Sweetheart, I know you don’t want to hear it and I can only think of one thing more
wonderful than making a baby with you.”
She couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than holding a child she’d made with the
love of her life. “There is nothing more wonderful than that.”
“There is,” he said.
“What?” If he said “playing live in front of fans,” she was going to reach through the
phone and throttle him.
“Loving you for the rest of my life.”
Her eyes flooded with fresh tears, and the only response she could manage was a sniff.
“You’re my heart, Myrna. I’m sure having a baby will add to my love for you, but nothing
will ever take away from it. With you in my life, I’m already blessed beyond reason, so if a
baby is meant to happen for us, it will happen and if it doesn’t, we still have us. You are
more than enough to make me happy.”
She nodded, so glad her husband was good at this emotional stuff.
“Myrna?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Will you love me less if I can’t give you a baby?”
“Of course not!” How could he even ask her that?
“Then quit beating yourself up.”
“Okay,” she said, a feeling of serenity washing over her. Everything would work out for
them whether they were gifted with a child or not, because they had each other. She
wondered why that hadn’t occurred to her until he’d said it. “You’re the best thing that has
ever happened to me, Brian. I love you.”
“I love you too. Now you better get all rested up, because in less than two weeks I’ll be
back in your bed, fucking you senseless and trying my damnedest to make a mother out of
you.”
She laughed. “I look forward to it.”
“Did you remember to lock your door and set the alarm?”
“Yes.”
“And are you smiling now?”
She was. He always made her smile. “Yes.”
“Good. I might be able to sleep tonight.”
She sighed, thinking ahead to spending the next ten nights alone in her bed. “I miss you
already.”
“I miss you too. Call me before you go to bed.”
“I will.”
They said their I-love-yous and their goodbyes, and she hung up. She cradled the phone
against her chest and smiled to herself. It wouldn’t be long before he came home and took
her back to paradise. And they wouldn’t even have to leave her bed to find it together.
Epilogue
One month later...
Myrna could barely see the screen of her phone through her happy tears as she typed in
a text to her husband.
The rabbit died.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’d like to thank Wendy Christy and Cyndi McGowen for continuing to do such an excellent
job of beta reading for me. I’d also like to thank the amazing Beth Hill for her fabulous
editing work. And I can’t forget my devoted fans, who will hopefully continue to read my
books as I attempt to juggle writing and publishing books in three different series. I love you
all!
WHAT’S NEXT
The next Sinners in Paradise novella will be announced soon. In the meantime, I’ll be
releasing the first Exodus End book, entitled Insider. When? Um… soon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Combining her love for romantic fiction and rock 'n roll, Olivia Cunning writes erotic romance
centered around rock musicians. Raised on hard rock music from the cradle, she attended
her first Styx concert at age six and fell instantly in love with live music. She's been known
to travel over a thousand miles just to see a favorite band in concert. As a teen, she
discovered her second love, romantic fiction -- first, voraciously reading steamy romance
novels and then penning her own. She currently resides in Illinois.
Document Outline
- BOOKS BY OLIVIA CUNNING
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Epilogue
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- WHAT’S NEXT
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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