Trey chuckled. Father and son both had tufts of black hair sticking up in all directions.“I hope he has your brains,” Brian said.“And your talent,” Myrna added.“He’s perfect,” Trey said, unable to resist the impulse to smooth Malcolm’s fuzzy hair with his palm. It did no good. The baby’s downy black hair immediately returned to standing on end.“You’ll be his godfather then?” Brian asked.Trey lifted his gaze to Brian’s. As if he could deny him anything. “Yeah. I guess so.”Brian smiled. “I think you need to get busy, Mills—find yourself a nice girl and make Malcolm a best friend. You’re already nine months behind.”“Ha! Like that’s ever going to happen,” Trey said flippantly, but something inside him wanted that. Wanted something he and Brian could share. Pride of their respective sons. He could almost picture Malcolm and Trey Junior playing together in the backyard, learning how to play guitar together, getting into mischief, growing. Trey Junior? What the f**k was he thinking? T
“I…” she said breathlessly.“You don’t have to say anything,” he said. He pinned her with the look that got him almost anything he wanted. He’d perfected it as a child, modified it as a man, used it unabashedly. She flushed and leaned against the door for support.“Sometimes a beautiful woman just needs a hard, slow f**k against a wall with a perfect stranger. I understand.”She gazed at him, looking more dazed than a pothead at a Grateful Dead concert. “Yeah… Perfect.”“I’ll leave first. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”“Yeah…”He waited for her to collect enough sense to move out of the way of the door. One hand on the doorknob, Trey took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed her trembling lips. “That is the best sex I’ve ever had against a door in a hospital supply closet.”“Yeah…”“You’re an amazing woman.”“Will you call me?” she gushed.He shook his head slightly. “I want to keep my memory of this moment untainted. Let’s not complicate it. Let it be what it
“Are you the finalists?” a deep voice asked from somewhere behind her. Its low tone seemed to caress Reagan’s back. A shiver of delight streaked up her spine.Reagan turned to identify the speaker and almost fell on the floor. Trey Mills, the rhythm guitarist of Sinners, stood just beside the studio door. He checked her out a little and then a little more. Just enough to make her want him to inspect her closely. And naked.Black-haired, green-eyed, and exuding sexual energy, the man was gorgeous onstage, but up close his sensual charm overwhelmed her. What was he doing here? Not that she wanted him to leave or anything. More than anything she wanted to challenge him to one of Sinners’ dueling guitar solos. The ones he and Sinclair performed onstage together. She always wondered if she could outplay Trey. At every Sinners’ concert she’d attended (eleven and counting), she’d wanted to charge up on stage and challenge both of Sinners’ guitarists to a little competition. Somehow, she’d ma
Exodus End’s bassist, Logan, and drummer, Steve, squeezed into the small room. Her band shuffled around so they could all fit into the small space. Her band. Hers. Oh my God, this had to be a dream. She pinched her arm as hard as she could. “Ouch. I guess I’m not dreaming,” she muttered.“You wail, sweetheart,” Steve said. “What’s your name?”“Reagan.”She shook hands with Logan (long, golden hair, gentle blue eyes, and hot) and Steve (soft waves of shoulder-length brown hair, dreamy brown eyes, and hot). Snuck another peek at Max (dark brown, trendy short hair, deep hazel eyes, and hotter) and then Dare (silky, sleek jet-black hair, intense green eyes, and the hottest). How would she survive being in a band with this many luscious and talented men without her panties spontaneously combusting?“Reagan, we love your sound,” Max said. “We’d like to head down to Dare’s practice room and jam through a few songs together to make sure you’re compatible with the group as a whole. Unless you
“At least try one out. I’d rather give them to you than get rid of them. Think of it as a gift.”“Okay,” she gushed and lifted the guitar from the hooks in the wall.“Nice choice,” he said.She had the sudden urge to burst into tears. Maximilian Richardson had paid her a compliment. And let her touch his guitar. Even better, let her play his guitar. How was she ever going to get used to this?Once they had her hooked up to an amplifier, Max called out songs and everyone followed his lead. Reagan was really glad she’d practiced all of their songs to prepare for the audition. She actually knew what she was doing, and they seemed impressed that she was keeping up with them. Sweet!As she played with her new band, she had to continually remind herself that to really serve them as a musician she should mimic Max’s sound as closely as she could. It wasn’t much of a challenge. Max was a great guitarist, but Dare was the real six-stringed talent in the band. Reagan played with her usual heart
Trey laughed and stood in the roiling water with his hands on both naked hips. Oh well. So he couldn’t f**k her. He could still hang out with her as a friend. He liked her already. She was interesting. Different. Hot as hell. A great kisser. Why would she kiss him like that if she had a boyfriend?“Do you want a job?” she said into her phone. “They want me to hire a personal bodyguard. You’d have to come on tour with me.” She rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not why. Just think about it, okay? It pays a lot, benefits and everything, but I can’t talk right now. I’ve got a date in a hot tub with Trey Mills.”Date?Reagan disconnected the call. She kissed her contract and then headed back into the changing room.Now where was she going? Trey shook his head and returned to his seat in the hot tub. Reagan came back a moment later in her hot pink panties and white tank top. Okay, that was totally unfair. He couldn’t be expected to think of her as a friend in that outfit. He couldn’t think at al
“I’ve seen him naked before. I wasn’t overly impressed,” Dare said and took another sip of his Coke. “Harold!” he yelled.A moment later Dare’s servant/butler/whoever appeared beside the tub. “Did you need something, Mr. Mills?”“I have guests.”“Right.” Harold turned to Reagan and Trey. The shine of the afternoon sun on his bald spot was almost blinding as he bowed slightly. “Would you like a beverage? A snack? Cherry sucker?”Trey nodded.“What do you have?” Reagan asked.“Anything your heart desires,” Harold said.“Sex on the beach?”“Anywhere your heart desires,” Trey said.Reagan slid her hand farther up Trey’s thigh and he stiffened. In more than one location.“I should probably abstain,” she said. “I have to find the correct bus home.”Abstinence should not be a word in this woman’s vocabulary. Trey’s gaze lowered to the shadows of her dusty-pink ni**les just beneath the surface of the water. He bit his lip so he didn’t start with the come-on lines again. Her fingertips stroked
“Oh, I get it now,” Trey said and laughed. “The arrow is pointing to your box. Lunch box.”“A little slow on the uptake today,” Dare said. “Too little blood in your brain, bro?”“Shut up. What kind of ass would make a woman get that tattooed on her hip?”“Same kind of ass that would make you and Brian get matching girlie tattoos on your asses,” Dare said.“I got off easy,” Reagan said. “Our bassist lost the same bet. He has a tat on his ass that says Emergency Entrance with an arrow that points to his… I’m sure you can guess.”“I refuse to ever introduce you to Eric,” Trey said. “If he hears that, I know what tattoo I’ll be forced to get the next time I lose a bet.”Dare massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’m so glad my bandmates aren’t douche bags.”“Me too,” Reagan said. “Should I come back tomorrow? I should probably practice for the tour on decent equipment. My guitar is a piece.”“Yeah, you should do that. Do you need me to send the car for you?”Hmm, let me see… Ride in the limo