Brigid was gone by the time we walked off the stage, and I was hurting to see my Baby Girl. I found her in the tour bus, hanging with Mack. They were smoking a spliff, and she was laughing at something the old man had said. When she saw me, her eyes sparkled and lit up like Christmas.

“Hey, Baby Girl. I missed you after the set,” I said, sitting down beside her.

Her smile and sparkle dimmed. “Yeah, I was—”

“Don’t even. I saw her, too. Did she say anything to you?”

By the pink creeping in her cheeks, I could take that as a yes. She didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe it was ’cause Mack was sitting there.

“You can tell me when we get to the hotel, yeah?”

She blushed even more and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“What?”

“I’m bunking with Connor,” she said quietly, as if the volume of her voice would somehow soften the blow I felt in my heart.

Just then, Connor and about seven of his Miami crew tripped onto the bus, and I knew that there was no way in hell she wanted to share Connor’s fuckin’ room with that riffraff. But the suite I would have had one big fuckin’ king-sized bed, and his room had two doubles, so it wasn’t hard to figure that shit out.

While checking in, I gave Connor my room, and to Kenna’s horror, I announced we’d be taking his.

“Phil, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she hissed at me.

Fuck, she was cute when she was miffed with her green eyes flashing fire.

“Hush, Baby Girl. There are two fuckin’ beds.”

Her lips went flat, but she followed me to our room anyway. First thing she did was grab her bag and head into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. I fuckin’ hated that. I glared at the door as if it were my enemy.

Then, I heard the shower going. My poor head started thinking of her, all naked and wet, and my dick surged.

Fuck my life.

Kenna was driving me insane. My dick was driving me insane. Blowing a load just might take the fuckin’ edge off. Spotting a box of tissues, I yanked off my shirt, grabbed the box, flopped down on the bed, and pulled out a seriously painful hard-on.

I didn’t hear when the shower got turned off. I was dick deep in a memory of Kenna on her hands and knees, making those fuckin’ awesome noises while I watched my dick disappear up inside her. I didn’t hear the bathroom door unlock and then open either.

“Phil!” she yelped.

“What?” I snarled. “It ain’t like you’re helpin’ me out here!”

She was quiet for a moment, just watching I guessed. I wouldn’t know because my eyes were closed, and in my head, my face was shoved in her slice.

“What are you thinking about?” She sounded almost shy.

Why is she so goddamn cute?

“You,” I replied. “And all the nasty shit I’m gonna inflict on you when you finally get over this shit.”

“Yeah…” She sighed. “That’s what I thought about, too.”

She had fuckin’ diddled herself in the shower!

That was the hottest fuckin’ thing I could think of, and I fuckin’ insta-spunked.

“Oh, fuuuck…” I groaned.

I heard her sigh again, like the fuckin’ sight of me getting myself off was a glorious thing. As I tried to catch my breath, my whole body shuddered, and the release left me limp. I opened an eye just a crack and looked at her. She was dressed in her Zoso shirt and baggy jeans, leaning in the doorway. Her cheeks were so rosy, and her eyes were bright, as though she were sick with a fever.

“You’re killin’ me, Kenna. There ain’t no reason for this shit.”

“I can’t say I don’t regret my decision, babe. But I am committed to it, so…can’t back out now.”

“The fuck you can’t.”

“The fuck I will. What kind of person would that make me, if I just gave up on my convictions?”

She was right, the little shit.

“So, you touched yourself in the shower?”

“Yes.”

“Was it good?”

“You do it better.”

I groaned and closed my eyes again.

“Need a towel?”

Reaching over, I lifted the box of tissues for her viewing pleasure.

“Yeah, not too sure those will cut it, babe.”

I glanced down, and holy fuck, there was no fuckin’ way a pair of testicles could have produced that much spunk. That shit covered my stomach. Shit, there was even some on Her Tattoo. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…”

A towel landed on my face. Grabbing it, I mopped up the mess I had made.

“Guess it’s been a while for you?”

“Georgia,” I grunted.

“Whoa. You lasted way longer than I did.”

I shot her a surprised look, and she shrugged.

“What can I say? You turn me on when I’m mad at you.”

“When was the first time you touched yourself after Georgia?”

She blushed. “Pretty much every day since Georgia—no, wait. Not the first night.”

“Every day?”

Again, she shrugged. “So? I’m used to, like, seven orgasms a day. You’ve turned me into a depraved sex maniac.”

I groaned again—this time, in defeat. My dick was so happy, listening to her talk about touching herself and being turned into a sex fiend because of me.

“You should probably put that away,” she said softly, watching it get hard again.

“I should probably put it in you,” I told her.

I swore, her eyes went all black at the thought of letting me do it.

“Right,” I grunted, getting up and heading into the bathroom.

I didn’t bother with shutting the door. I was fuckin’ hoping she’d see my naked ass and go apeshit, just like I would’ve.

Little shit.

She didn’t come near the bathroom, but she went straight to her laptop.

Click, click, click.

I showered quickly and strode out butt-ass naked into the room to get dressed. She was fuckin’ bothered because her clicking got all furious.

Half-dressed, I called Jace. “Man, I need a fuckin’ drink.”

“No doubt!” He laughed evilly.

“Fuck you. Meet me in the bar in, like, fifteen?”

“Sure, man,” he replied.

We must be getting old or something.

Back in the day, we used to party like rock stars after a set with booze, fuckin’ strange chicks, and drugs all over the place along with an after-show high.

The electric glow from her computer screen bounced off my Baby Girl’s face, and it hit me hard that all I wanted was to stay up here and hang out with her. Even back then, that was all I’d ever wanted. The fast life had held no meaning or happiness. It’d just been a way to blow off some steam and make time hurry the fuck up.

“Do you want to smoke before you head out?” she asked, turning to look at me.

Warmth filled my chest. Fuck, I loved this woman. She fuckin’ got me. She fuckin’ owned me.

“Yeah. That’d be great.”

She pulled out a spliff—I swear to fuckin’ God, I’ll never get that word out of my head—and we got all toasty.

“Come have a few drinks with us,” I said as I stood up.

Her smile knocked the breath from me. “Yeah, maybe. I got a few things to take care of first though.”

Bending down, I kissed her sweet mouth. With her kissing me back, I knew I had to get the fuck out of there, or I’d be ripping off her fuckin’ clothes, not giving a damn about her commitment to her convictions.

“Shit, did we just cash an entire bottle of Blue Label?” I asked Jace as he poured the last drops into his glass.

“Just like old times,” he stated. “Oy! We need another one!” he called out to the cute little thing behind the bar.

I was feeling fuckin’ liquid and warm, loose and relaxed. My dick wasn’t hard. Awesome.

Shit looked fuzzy, but that was cool, too. Lately, everything had been harsh lines and ragged edges. Not having mind-blowing sex with my Baby Girl had left me like that. Fuckin’ my woman made everything soft and fuzzy for me, making me love-drunk.