Dev was never so glad to get out of a party in all of his life. He thought groupies and fangirls were bold, but the women in that party operated on a whole different level. His phone was stacked with new numbers of women, and a couple men, that he'd never call. Dev entered them out of politeness, and Bill, watching him, nodded his head in approval.

"Keep them," he said. "You'll never know when you need them."

But there was only one woman he wanted to call, and he knew she was busy working.

He thought back to their make-out session in the hallway and winced. His cock was still painfully hard, but he shouldn’t complain. They’d been saved by the bell. Fooling around and helping her out with this scheme was one thing. Fucking her--in semi-public against a wall, no less?--would’ve been a catastrophe.

He had to kick his self-discipline in gear if he was hoping to survive this tour without destroying one, and possibly two, friendships.

He sucked down half a bottle of water to ease his scratchy throat and peered out the bus window. This tour was turning out to be hard on more than just his dick. He wasn't used to singing every night, and the big note vocals were definitely causing a strain.

Why hadn’t he thought about that when they’d made their schedule? Oh yeah, right. Bill wanted to minimize costs by knocking out the tour on successive dates. It had sounded like a good idea at the time. Now, it seemed borderline insane.

Rory stepped up from the back of the bus and gave him a nod in greeting. "Hey, I'm going inside. The venue is providing catering for us this stop."

"Who told you that?" asked Dev.

"Gina, of course."

"Of course."

Connor poked his head out from the curtains in his upper bunk where he’d been napping. "Food? Real food? I'm in."

"You coming?" said Rory to Dev.

"I'll be there shortly. I need a few more minutes downtime."

The mention of chow had sparked the interest of Mac and Quinn as well, and the four of them thundered out of the bus in the hunt for nourishment. Dev was alone when he took out his phone.

What's the remedy for a scratchy throat?

It sure as shit wasn’t her problem, but he couldn’t deny that contacting her had been his first thought. When had that started happening?

Is this your idea of sexting?

He grinned in spite of his aching throat.

No. I'm serious.

Where are you?

The bus.

One sec.

He waited, tapping his fingers on his thigh.

Steam inhalation and ginger and honey.

He let out a snort. Yeah, sure. None of that here.

Give me a minute.

It was more than a minute, but eventually, Cheri climbed the stairs of the bus holding two Styrofoam cups.

"Okay," she said. "One is just hot water. Breathe in the steam and reheat in the microwave when you need more. The second is some ginger tea with honey. Good thing this is such a high-class place. The server at catering didn't blink an eye when I asked for it." She set the two cups down on the tabletop he sat at and then turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" he found himself asking.

"Back to work,” she said, her voice going husky. “There are a ton of things to do."

No doubt that was true. But now that she was here, he didn’t want her to go, and he had to swallow the urge to tell her he had something for her to do right here.

He clenched his hands to keep from pulling her down to sit in his lap and finishing what they’d started. Instead, he just stared at the skintight leather pants he’d bought for her that accentuated the curves of her hips and ass. The scent of the leather and Cheri's light, sexy perfume collided to muddle his brain, and he found himself tongue-tied again.

"Go ahead, drink your tea," she said. "And I read you should rest your voice, so don't speak unless you have to."

Dev nodded but talking was the last thing on his mind. He wanted action. And if this was going to be the new status quo every time he saw her? It was going to be a rough tour.

"Do you want me to send you some food from catering so you can rest?"

He opened his mouth to answer but snapped it shut as she glared at him. He shook his head.

"Okay, well, Richard is blowing up my phone again, so I've got to go."

He didn’t know how it happened. One second, he was rational. Had it all together and knew what a bad idea it was. The next, he was on his feet, instinct taking over yet again.

He pulled her into his arms, crushing her chest against his. The leather pants felt warm to his touch, and he imagined himself sliding in between her sweet legs.

"What lesson is this?" she asked, breathlessly.

"What happens when you wear leather," he whispered.

"So we’re jumping forward on the lesson plan?"

"You could say that." He squeezed the two globes of her bottom and Cheri breathed in sharply.

"I want to, Dev. But I really have to work. Can we take this up later?"

He didn't want later.

He wanted now.

"Work can wait," he whispered as he closed his teeth over her earlobe. She made a little noise, a kind of strangled whimper.

"No," she said pushing away from him. "It really can't."

He stepped back and nodded. At least one of them had their head on straight.

"Okay, later then. But don't think you can cut class."

She smiled, but it was bittersweet and had him looking at her harder. "Don't worry, Teach, I wouldn't dream of it."

“You okay?” he asked gently.

She gave him a bright smile and nodded, waving cheerily. “Fine, just super busy. Talk to you a little later.” She turned and made her way down the aisle of the bus, give him a head on view of that spectacular ass.

Dev watched every step of the way and listened as she walked down the stairs of the bus, then he thunked his forehead on the table.

God damn, that girl was driving him crazy. His cock was once again at full-mast and he briefly contemplated jerking off but the idea wasn't as nearly appealing as holding Cheri in his arms.

He was a big boy. He could handle a little frustration.

He breathed in the steam from one cup, and drank the tea from the other, babying his throat, trying to untangle the problem of Cheri Galveston.

Half an hour later, his throat was feeling a little better and he went to find his band-mates in a room set aside for the talent. Rory was drumming on a table, while Mac was strumming a tune that Dev didn't remember hearing before. Connor worked on a bass line.

"What's this?" he said.

"A new song," said Mac. "What do you think?"

It was a ballad, which Mac excelled at. All their slow and soulful tunes started as a Mac creation.

Quinn had his tablet in hand, jotting down the notes of the song as Mac played.

"It's good,” Dev said softly, letting the music settle over him like a balm.

"You think you could put the words to it?"

"I always do, don't I? What do you have in mind?" Dev asked.

Mac shrugged. "Don't know. I'm just feeling, I don't know, disconnected somehow."

"Yeah," said Rory. "We’re only a week out from home but something feels different. Maybe it’s me. I’m feeling like things are off with Bug. With her on the second bus, and being so busy all the time, I don't get to see her and something’s going on. She seems…different. Like one minute she’s happy and the next she seems down and distracted. I’m worried she needs me and I haven’t been there for her."

Dev’s stomach sank like a rock but he stayed silent.

"She's the only family I have. Except for you guys, I mean," Rory added, which only twisted the knife of guilt stabbing at him.

"Well, take her out after the show," said Mac. “See if you can figure out what’s going on with her.”

"She helps with load-out," said Rory with a shrug. “So she’ll be busy for most of the night.”

"We're the bosses, aren't we?" said Connor. "If you want to take out your little sister, then take her out. Better yet, let's all take her out, just like the old times, before all this fame shit really hits us."

"Yeah," agreed Quinn. "We'll kidnap her if we have to."

"That's the spirit," said Mac. "I'm up for a kidnapping."

Had things been normal, he would’ve signed on immediately. Bug was a part of their band even if she didn't play and sing. She was there from the beginning, their first captive audience, and their biggest supporter during the lean years. Even when they pushed her away so that they could indulge in the perks of being musicians, she was in the background, always there. She deserved their attention if she was having issues.

But what if he was those issues?

That made him a real asshole for not realizing that he was causing her pain.

What the hell was he thinking?

Obviously, he wasn't. He should stop these lessons and stay away from her, shouldn't he? But the thought sent a shaft of pain through him that easily rivaled the guilt. The guys talked among themselves, oblivious to Dev’s internal war.

She hadn’t looked sad earlier at the party when she’d gazed up at him with those lust-filled eyes and that swollen mouth. Or on the bus when he’d held her against him, resisting the urge to wrap those leather-clad legs around his waist and grind against her. Need raged inside him again and his muscles quaked. He was so hot, it was almost like he was running a fever.

No doubt about it. He had it bad. And if Cheri felt the same…all this confusion, and need, and—yeah, he admitted it—almost obsession? They both owed it to themselves to see it through. They were adults and what they did was no one else’s business. Either they would get it out of their systems or they’d crash and burn, but their friendship was strong. They’d make it through.

With that settled, he suddenly felt a thousand pounds lighter, which was good.

Because there was no staying away from Cheri Galveston.

* * *

What was wrong with Dev?

She had known him for forever but this was the first time that he acted--what? Needy?

No. Surely she was misinterpreting what was going on. He must be tired. And he said his voice was scratchy, which never happened before. The tour was wearing on everyone. Richard was getting grumpier and even Gina was snappish.

And there was still two weeks to go.

She’d managed to tell Dev no today, as much out of obligation as self-preservation, but she didn’t have many nos left in her. Not when all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him and give everything she had. As she gained distance from the bus it became more difficult to breathe, and each footstep grew heavier. When she finally made it inside the building she felt as if she had run a marathon, and maybe, in a way, she had.

Because she must have been crazy letting herself get set up for this kind of fall. Cheri could still hear Dev's voice in her head from that first night on tour.

“You’re worth more than a one-night stand, and I'm not a forever kinda guy.”

Letting herself tumble deeper down this hole was only going to make it worse.

But god, he felt good, arms around her. Mouth on hers…

"Bug," called Richard. "Why am I chasing you through the building? Cobb is looking for some of his wires that he can't find again."

"On it," said Cheri. Work was just the thing she needed to keep her mind off Dev, and she threw herself into it.

The band wound up being awesome that night. The tea must’ve worked because Dev was amazing. Maybe it was the beautiful venue or the electric energy of the audience gathered and concentrated forward to the stage, but he ramped up the songs, pouring everything he had into them. Mac played lead guitar like his hands were on fire, and Connor was so hyped, that he actually danced on stage while they were into the mini set where they played a medley of their older songs. Dev mirrored Connor, and they synced to perform a thirty-second sample of the line dance they did at the redneck club in Charlotte. Connor, Quinn, and Rory struck up an impromptu country riff to encourage them.

"Oh good lord," said Richard when he saw the band's antics on stage. "I didn't sign up to follow some country band."

"But the audience is eating it up," said Cheri. And it was true. By the next set, the audience was singing along and, at the encore, they screamed so loud you could barely hear the band.

When the guys finally jogged off the stage, they were all hyped up.

They barely took time to wipe the sweat away before Rory found her and grabbed her arm.

"Come on," he said. "We need your help with something."

"What?"

"Just follow me."

After following a long corridor, Rory opened the back door. A stretch limo sat there, engine running.

"What's going on?" Cheri said.

"Get in the car."

"Rory, what the hell? I have to work."

"No, you don't," said Dev coming up behind her. "I just told Richard not to expect you to work load-out tonight."

"Yeah," said Connor. "We're taking you on the town."

Cheri turned away from the door only to find a solid wall of Dev standing before her, his gaze hooded. And behind him were Mac, Connor, and Quinn.

"When was the last time you went out with us after a show, like, just us, all together?" Rory asked.

"I don't remember."

"Exactly," crowed Connor.

"We're rectifying an injustice," declared Quinn.

"So into the car, little lady," said Dev tipping an imaginary hat.

Stunned, Cheri scooted into the limo next to Rory. Dev piled in after, followed by the other three men.

After hitting a diner, which happened to serve alcohol, and a couple bars later, everyone was more than a little drunk. She’d been nervous and feeling awkward at first, but the evening so far had been all joking and jostling in a good-natured fashion.

Dev hung back, though she swore his eyes were boring holes into her skull. But when she looked, his head would snap back to his drink or whatever conversation he was having with one of the guys. Still, she was happy to re-establish the closeness she’d been missing with Rory, so she did her best not to try to read Dev’s mind. If he had something to say, eventually he’d pull her aside to say it.

The evening flew by, and the bar they were in closed. They were on the hunt for another watering hole when they rolled up to a strip mall. Neon signs lit a small sports bar window.

“Why are we here?” asked Cheri.

“What’s the problem?” said Rory hopping out of the car. He looked through the front window. “Looks fine to me. Besides, it’s open, they have a pool table, and yesterday’s football game is on the TV.”

They headed into the dive and all the guys except for Dev settled at the bar. The waitress quickly served up drinks and innuendo. Cheri took a seat next to Rory.

Her brother turned to her with a sloppy drunk smile on his face.

“How’s it going? Is it getting to be too late of a night for you?”

“God, Ror, I’m not sixteen.” She looked over her shoulder for Dev but didn’t see him. Where did he go?

“That’s not what I mean. You’ve just seemed tired lately…or something. I mean, shit, Cheri, you haven’t been yourself. Even when you are joking with us, it seems like you’re a million miles away.”

Cheri bit her lower lip, feeling guilty. Here the guys went out of their way to take her out, even if it was in their own boys-will-be-boys way, and she still couldn’t completely get her mind off Dev.

Could she be any more selfish?

“I’m fine, Ror, really. It’s been a long day.”

He nodded. “I hear you. We’ll make this our last stop and head back to the buses in a bit.”

She nodded and tipped her beer to her lips for a taste, feeling disappointed that Dev still hadn’t come back around.

Connor and Mac quickly found a couple women at the bar interesting and started downing shots with them. Quinn worked an aging pinball machine, and Rory excused himself to watch Quinn.

“Let me give it a try?” he said to Quinn.

Cheri was alone momentarily at the bar, nursing a beer, though her head buzzed with the previous ones she’d downed.

“Hey,” said a familiar low voice in her ear. It was a sound that reverberated through her body, making her want deliciously sinful things.

“Where have you been?” she asked Dev.

“Checking some things out. Come see what I’ve found.”

Cheri slid off the stool, and Dev steadied her as her feet hit the floor. An electric current shot through her when he held her. He wrapped one hand around hers and tugged at it, moving toward the door.

“This way,” he said as he led her out into the nighttime air.

“Where are we going?” she said. “Rory is going to be missing us.”

“He’s drunk and playing video games. He’s not even going to know we’re gone.”

Dev took a few steps and opened the back entrance to the bar, waving her in.

“In here.”

“Here?” she said incredulously. They’d just left there. She craned her head in the doorway and realized with a start that the little dive was hiding a secret.

“I think it is the perfect place for your next lesson.”

“Lesson,” Cheri squeaked as she peered into what could only be described as a strip club. “Oh no, Dev--”

“Do you want my help or not?” he said. His blue eyes challenged her to tell him no. But she wouldn’t do that.

“Well, yes.”

“Then inside you,” he said. Dev punctuated his words with a playful slap on her bottom.

Front and center, a stage blazing with multi-colored lights dominated the room. A woman straddled the pole with an expertise that made Cheri forget her embarrassment.

Dev and Cheri watched with rapt attention as the woman undulated on the pole. She released her hold on it and, with legs wrapped around the pole, hung upside down. Her naked breasts pushed up toward the ceiling while her long dark hair reached toward the floor. Then she gracefully pulled herself up and twisted around the pole as she descended.

Dev moved away to talk to the man at the bar and then returned quickly.

"Oh my god," said Cheri as the woman's feet swept the floor, "how did she do that?"

"I don't know," said Dev, "but if you ever did that for your man, you’d slay him. So time for a lesson."

She shook her head furiously and held up both hands. "Now wait a minute. I'm not getting up on that stage."

"No one said you would. This club has private rooms."

Just those words sent a bolt of heat rocketing through her. "Dev, the guys will notice we’re gone."

“They aren't paying attention to us." While she protested, Dev grasped her arm and led her to a private room. The walls were mirrored from floor to ceiling and, in the center, loomed a golden stripper pole.

"Just looking at this makes me dizzy," she murmured, so many emotions warring inside her, she could barely think straight.

Dev’s words replayed in her mind, sending a blast of confidence through her.

You’d slay him.

Dev took a seat in the corner of the room a few yards away. "The important thing is not to worry about what you can't do. Just concentrate on what you can. First, take off your boots."

Cheri scoffed but she unzipped the boots and kicked them to a corner.

"Grasp the pole with both hands."

"Okay, now what?"

"Butt your feet against the pole, and lean out."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Very sexy."

His words sent a sizzle through her. "But I haven't done anything yet."

"Just getting started. Though you can't do much in those leather pants. But I'm enjoying the view."

"Pervert."

"I know what I like. Okay, now, let your left hand leave the pole, raise your left leg, bend it, that's it and swing around the pole."

Cheri concentrated on what Dev told her and before she knew it, she completed one turn.

"Very good. Now, repeat it. Both hands on pole, release the left, lift and bend your knee and swing."

"I think I'm getting dizzy."

"Well, that's a plus for me."

His half-lidded eyes stared at her with raw need.

"How's that?" she said as her mouth ran dry. The heat in his stare threatened to burn her up from the inside.

"Because I'll be there to catch you if you fall." His voice was low and raspy and it strummed a song through her. His lustful gaze made her feel like the sexiest woman on the planet.

"So you have ulterior motives." She tried to keep the tone light, but her own husky tones betrayed her desire.

"Guilty."

Oh yes, Dev Lachan. You are guilty—of making me fall in love with you.

In this moment, Cheri absolved herself of any of her own guilt. She couldn’t help herself with this man focused on her like she was the only woman on earth.

"What next?"

"Just use your imagination," he encouraged. “Confidence is what makes a woman sexy.”

"There's no way I can copy that girl out front."

"That's not the purpose of a private room."

"Well,” she said, swallowing hard, knowing that once she asked the question, she had to be prepared for the answer, “what is the purpose of a private room?"

Dev stood and stepped close, yanking her into his arms. She fell against him and looked up into eyes that glittered like black diamonds.

"To catch you even if you don't fall."

He bent to kiss her, and she had to throw her arms around his neck so she didn't fall. Dev claimed her mouth fiercely, his tongue demanding entrance. But before she could even process those sensations, his fingers were between her legs stroking the most sensitive part of her through the soft leather. The friction sent shocks through her body, one then another, making her stomach pulse low with need.

The bristles of his day’s growth brushed against her, making her shiver. This was a new sensation for her, and it only brought home how different it was kissing a grown man, not some college boy.

A man who could propel her to ecstasy with just a touch.

What would it be like to have him inside her?

She imagined him entering and filling her as his fingers worked the zipper of her pants. He slipped them between her legs, finding her aching clit. Already, her pussy was slick and ready and her breathing sped to match the rising rhythm of her heart.

She angled her hips to drive his fingers into her, filling the space that felt so damned empty for so long. She squeezed her eyes closed as rising heat pulsed through her. His scent enveloped her as his body crowded against hers, and even though they were crushed together, all she wanted was to get closer.

He nipped her bottom lip and thrust his fingers deeper, and she couldn’t hold back the groan reverberating from her throat.

What was she doing? What if someone walked in or, worse, what if Rory realized they were missing?

But soon, the heat evaporated any conscious thought and she was nothing but a writhing mass of need, arching against him helplessly.

He dragged his mouth away and murmured low encouragements in her ear.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet. I can feel how close you are…let it happen, babe.”

The grit in his voice joined the building tug between her thighs and liquid fire spread through her.

“Oh my god, Dev!”

She strained closer, letting out a keening wail as his long fingers plunged in and out, curling up each time to press on some magic spot inside her. “I can’t, I--”

But the words sizzled away as a climax slammed into her.

A wave of pleasure burst on her, more intense than anything she ever felt, and white burst behind her eyelids. Her channel clenched his fingers tight, gripping and releasing in a sensual dance.

"Cheri, Cheri," Dev murmured kissing her neck and breasts in swift kisses. “That’s so damn hot.”

Her head was spinning, body still trembling with aftershocks when he pulled away. His eyes blazed as he stared down at her face.

“You’re so beautiful, and I want to fuck you so bad right now, but I won’t do it here.”

She wet her lips, half devastated and half relieved at his words. Lord, how she wanted him. All of him inside her. But she wanted him naked and aching and all night long. Not here in a strip club when her brother was probably already wondering where they were. And not now, when her mind was still reeling with the ramifications of just how powerful his touch was.

If she felt like this after only petting, what would making love with Dev be like?

Her brain supplied the answer without hesitation.

Pure obliteration.