She tugged at his shirt impatiently—wanting him naked, wanting to feel the warm skin of his belly against hers and the hairs on his chest to tease her nipples. She wanted him inside her, filling her with slow deep thrusts, staring into her eyes, stroking her hair, stealing deep lingering kisses. Was it strange that with all the adventurous positions they’d tried, missionary was her favorite? She found staring into his eyes beguilingly intimate and while it might not be the best position for her to get off quickly, it was definitely the best position to fulfill her.

Logan stripped his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. She filled her hands with hot, smooth flesh—his back, shoulders, arms, and chest. She couldn’t get enough of him. Doubted she’d ever get enough. Her hands moved down his chest, and he shifted so she could fumble with his fly. When his cock sprang free—hard, long, and thick in her hand—she was too impatient to remove her clothes. Pushing her sleep shorts and panties to one side, she guided him into her waiting body, gasping as they became one.

His strokes were slow and deep and drove her crazy as her panties dug into her clit every time their bodies came together.

“Why is it always so good with you?” he asked.

She had no answer for him. She had no means of comparison.

“Is it because I’ve taught you how to please me?” He brushed the hair from her face, staring deep into her eyes as he took her. Slow and deep. Slow and deep. “Is it because I know no man but me has ever been with you like this?” His hand slid under her top to caress her breast, bringing her to new heights when his fingertips found its sensitive tip. “Or is it because I love you?”

“That,” she said.

He bent his head and kissed her gently, grinding his hips to take her deeper. “I think it’s all those things,” he whispered against her lips. “Promise you won’t go after the tour ends. Stay with me.”

She couldn’t exactly promise that. She wasn’t sure what would happen after her assignment ended. She did know she didn’t have a passport, so she couldn’t leave the country. How long did it take to get a passport? “I’ll try.”

He buried his face in her neck, his thrusts slow and gentle. “I need you with me.”

Her fingers moved to tangle with his hair. “And I need to be with you. We’ll make this work, Logan.”

He lifted his head to look down at her. “But how?”

“How does a woman get a brainy guy to stop thinking while he’s fucking her?”

He chuckled and kissed her. “She gets on top.”

Well, that solved one of their problems.

Thirty-One

While the band waited for curtain call in Albuquerque, Toni switched on one of the videos she’d recorded a few days before and leaned back into the sofa. The entire band had gathered in the dressing room so they could watch their footage. All five of them had been gracious enough to wear rather unflattering headbands with cameras attached to the sides of their heads so she could get video of their individual perspectives while they performed.

“Okay, wait,” Reagan said, leaning close to the laptop screen and squinting at a leather-encased ass. “Whose camera is this?”

Dare laughed. “Considering that all we’ve seen so far is Max’s ass, I’d say it’s yours.”

“I didn’t know you stared at my ass onstage,” Max said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Is there something you’d like to share with the group?”

“I don’t stare at your ass!” Reagan insisted.

“It’s not Reagan’s feed,” Toni said. She’d checked the label several times to be sure. She snorted and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Then whose is it?” Max asked, looking rather green around the gills all of a sudden.

“It’s Logan’s.” Toni burst out laughing.

“What the fuck, dude?” Max roared. “Why were you staring at my ass?”

“I wasn’t!”

“I think his camera was on crooked,” Toni said.

“Likely story,” Max grumbled.

They all turned their heads and squeezed their eyes shut as the camera focused directly on a spotlight overhead.

“Turn it off,” Steve said. “I want to see mine. It has to be better than this.”

“I just need a minute of good footage for each of you,” Toni said. “I’m sure there’s something usable on here.”

She fast-forwarded through half a minute of blinding-lights footage and then they were back to staring at Max’s ass.

“Turn it off!” Max insisted.

Toni replaced the SD card labeled Logan with the one labeled Steve. The recording of Steve rising from the stage was kind of cool, with his drum kit in the foreground and the arena coming into view behind it. But when he started to play, it was another story entirely.

“Pass the Dramamine!” Reagan shouted, sticking out a hand to block her view of the screen. Drums and sticks seemed to be flying at them in all directions as Steve banged his head to the beat while he played.

“Dear lord, Steve, do you ever hold still?” Dare asked. He swallowed hard and crinkled up his face in disgust.

“Some of us work hard for a living,” Steve said.

“Maybe we should try putting your camera on a stand behind you,” Toni said. “That way we can see you in action without giving ourselves whiplash.”

“That could work,” Logan said. “And you can put my camera on my bass stock so it’s not cockeyed and making it seem like I’m staring at Max’s ass.”

“You were staring at it,” Reagan said with a laugh. “And we have photographic evidence.”

Logan reached over and grabbed her knee, squeezing until she was bucking and laughing uncontrollably.

“Why don’t we see what Reagan’s got?” Steve suggested. “Since she’s so insistent on mocking the rest of us.”

“We don’t really need to watch two feeds of Max’s ass.” Toni winked at the man attached to that ass.

“Hey,” Reagan said, “there isn’t anything better to look at from the back of the stage.”

“Oh really?” Logan said, twisting his head to try to look at his own ass. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got it going on in the ass department.”

“If that’s what you need to believe to help your self-esteem,” Reagan said.

Logan grabbed her knee again, squeezing repeatedly until she bucked her giggling self off the sofa. “Boy crazy,” Logan said. “Not that we’re surprised.”

“So we want to see Reagan’s next?” Toni asked.

“Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt,” Butch said from the dressing room door. “Can I see you on the bus for a minute?”

“All of us?” Dare asked.

“Uh.” Butch’s gaze fell on Toni. “Just the band.” He considered Logan for a second. “And not Logan.”

“Not Logan?” Max asked.

“It will take just a few minutes,” Butch said. He backed out of the doorway and disappeared around the corner.

Toni and Logan, exchanging puzzled looks, watched the others leave the room.

“Why didn’t he want to see you with the rest of them?” Toni asked.

Logan shrugged. “They’re probably planning a surprise party for my birthday or something.”

“Isn’t your birthday at the end of October?”

“Yeah, well maybe it’s a big surprise.”

He didn’t seem too concerned about being excluded, so Toni shrugged the oddity off.

“Do you think we should put cameras on all the instruments to get shots of your fingers moving?” Toni asked. “That might be interesting for the book.”

“Dare’s fingers, maybe, but mine just kind of go back and forth like . . .” He demonstrated playing two chords over and over again.

“So we’ll get shots of the audience with your bass cam.” She grinned at him. “If you can keep it off Max’s ass for a few minutes.”

He poked her in the ribs and she jerked sideways.

“You know what you should do?” he asked. “Get audience members to wear the head cams in a mosh pit. Since you’re too scared to crowd surf.”