She lifted her head to find that Shade had left the room while she’d been otherwise occupied eating out her best friend. What. The. Fuck?

Vanessa grabbed Lindsey and drew her against her in a warm embrace. “Damn, girl, where did you learn to do that with your tongue?”

“Um.” Lindsey flushed. “Kellen Jamison?”

Vanessa laughed. “That man just landed himself at number one on my fuck-it list.”

Lindsey lifted her head to look down into the familiar face of her best friend. She loved this woman, she did, but she didn’t ever want to eat her pussy again. “Nessi?”

“Yeah, sugar.”

“Does this mean I’m gay?”

“Naw, baby. We was just caught up in the moment and got a little bicurious.”

“Okay,” she said and laid her head on Vanessa’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what it is about rock stars that makes us act all crazy.”

Lindsey knew. “They’re walking aphrodisiacs.”

Vanessa chuckled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You said it, girlfriend. You said it.”

Lindsey’s mind soon wandered to the remaining two rock stars in on the tour bus.

“Hmm, I wonder if Gabe and Adam are cold and lonely.”

“We could go check,” Vanessa said.

Owen hopped out of his bunk and winced when his barefoot landed on a used condom. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his, but who the hell knew after the orgy that had gone down the night before.

He peeled the sticky prophylactic off the bottom of his foot and tossed it into the garbage can under the sink. He was always the first to wake up, but this morning, it was important, because Santa had been too busy screwing the night before to dig his presents out of their hiding place.

Owen stepped over Tex, who was sprawled in the aisle wearing nothing but his cowboy boots, and for some inexplicable reason, his belt and prized rodeo buckle. Owen’s toe connected with an empty whiskey bottle and it rolled across the floor to get lost under the dining room table, which had been used for a different kind of feast the night before. It had been fun while it lasted, but now his tongue would never work properly again and his lower back and hips were calling his insatiable cock every sort of a son-of-a-bitch.

Or maybe he’d dreamt it all. His band members were all stark naked and passed out in various uncomfortable positions around the cabin, but there wasn’t a woman in sight.

He found the pair of female friends curled up together on the bed in the back of the bus. When the generous ladies had come out of the bedroom the night before, the only one who hadn’t taken a turn at one or the other of them—or both of them in Owen’s case—had been Kelly. He was still saving his love for a dead girl. Owen hoped his gift helped him get over her a little. If for no other reason, Kelly seriously needed to find something better than Owen’s had to get him off.

Owen donned a pair of discarded jeans he found on the bedroom floor—which turned out not to be his because they were several sizes too big—and his Santa hat. He flopped down on the floor, rolled onto his back, and shimmied his shoulders under the bed. He tugged out the velvet sack he’d stuffed way back under the headboard a few nights before.

A foot stomped right in the middle of his stomach.

“Umph!”

“Oh my God,” Lindsey said as she pulled her foot back. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“You don’t need a spleen to live,” he said breathlessly and after some scooting around, rose into sitting position.

“Did we really have a sex orgy last night?” she whispered, her innocent-looking blue eyes wide in disbelief.

“Nope. What happens on the Sole Regret tour bus, stays on the Sole Regret tour bus.” He winked at her and rose to his feet.

Owen slung his sack of presents over one shoulder and grinned at Lindsey. “Santa already gave you your present last night. You are now permanently on his naughty list.”

She flushed and lowered her eyes to her clenched hands.

He leaned over and kissed her temple. “I meant what I said about every sinfully delicious thing that happens on this bus, doesn’t leave it.”

“Okay,” she said breathlessly, but didn’t look at him.

She really was a doll. He might have considered calling her if she hadn’t slept with every last one of his band mates. Oh, and his bus driver.

“You had fun, right?” Owen asked.

She nodded earnestly and then her eyes rolled up in her head as whatever erotic memories were teasing her thoughts.

“Then don’t let it bother you.”

He tripped over what had to be Gabe’s overlong pant legs as he left her to mull over her misdeeds. He should probably find his own jeans, before he started waking people. He found them in the shower and had no idea how they’d gotten there. He took the time to use the john before changing into his own pants.

“Merry Christmas,” he bellowed from the end of the corridor.

Tex sat bolt upright in the middle of the aisle. “What the fuck?” He covered his head with both hands and winced in pain. He then noticed his state of undress and shifted his hands to cover his crotch. “Who gave me whiskey?”

Owen chuckled. He wouldn’t remember a thing from the night before. He never did when he drank too much whiskey.

“Ah God.” He tried to stand but ended up crawling to the bathroom and locking himself inside.

“I said, Merry Christmas, assholes,” Owen yelled. “It’s time to wake up. Santa came.”

“I remember him coming at least four times,” Adam’s said from his bunk. Well, he was mostly in his bunk. One hand and foot were dragging the floor. “I can’t feel my arm.”

“That sucks for a lead guitarist, doesn’t it?” Shade grumbled from the sofa. He had a pair of pink panties stuck to his forehead. Owen grinned, wondering how long it would take him to notice.

Adam rolled onto his back and used his functional arm to try to rub the circulation back into his temporarily frozen one. “I’d flip you off if you were worth the trouble.”

“Here’s what Santa brought you, Adam.”

“Let me guess. Another chain.”

Owen laughed. “How did you know?”

“You buy me a chain every year. That’s why I have like ten of them.”

“Well now you have eleven. You’re welcome.”

Adam smiled at him—he really didn’t do that enough these days. “Thanks, man. It’s exactly what I wanted. And I really didn’t get you shit.”

“That’s not from me, it’s from Santa.”

“Yeah okay. What are you—five years old?”

“On Christmas I am.”

Gabe hadn’t stirred from his upside down sprawl in the recliner. His mohawked head was on the extended foot rest, legs spread and draped over each chair arm. After seeing where Gabe’s balls were currently situated, Owen vowed to never sit in that chair again.

“Gabe, are you awake? It’s Christmas.”

“I just wanna sleep,” he said in a slurred voice.

“I guess you don’t want this boring ass book that Santa brought you.” Owen dropped the heavy book on Gabe’s chest, which definitely got his attention. Clutching the book in both hands, he lifted his head and glanced around in confusion. “Um,” he said. “How in the fuck did I wind up sleeping like this? It defies all logic.”

“Sort of like your hairstyle.”

Gabe lift the book and blinked his eyes until they focused well enough to read the title. “Theories in Antigravity? Now there’s a thought. Imagine sex in space.”

“Enjoy,” Owen said.

He handed Shade a long flat box. “Sunglasses? For me? Good thing. Vanessa broke my last pair when she sat on my face.”

“Nope, sorry. Had he known you would be without your precious sunglasses on Christmas morning, Santa would have gone with the usual, but he was a little more creative this year.”

Shade opened the box and lifted the flat cross that dangled from a silver chain. He lifted an eyebrow at him. “Trying to keep me out of trouble?”