The story hits the tabloids the next morning. The headline is some clever play on Dylan Cotter’s girlfriend getting caught in the bathroom with his bandmate. It paints Cora out as some party girl slut and makes it seem like she’s caused enough bad blood between me and Dylan that the future of the band is in jeopardy.

Only at the tail end of the article does it say that maybe, just maybe, Cora was having a tough moment and needed a friend for comfort and the encounter was totally innocent.

But no one believes that. Not for a hot second. In their minds, we had sex in a bathroom stall right under Dylan’s nose.

And, naturally, it was all Cora’s fault.

We’re back on the bus en route to the next city and the band and Cora have been on the phone with our agents and PR all day. Nikki’s been texting nonstop.

“Couple days and it will all blow over, don’t worry,” I tell Cora.

“I know,” she says.

Christian has been calling both to yell at us and to arrange that Dylan and Cora be seen at a variety of locations and amp up the PDA, which makes me sick to my stomach.

So far, Cora’s been able to sneak into my hotel room every night without suspicion. And the bus is no problem Now, she and I aren’t to supposed to even stand near one another in public. This is going to suck.

“I’m sorry about all this,” I say to Dylan, once Cora’s out of earshot.

“I’ll live,” he replies, “But, really, it makes me look like a asshole that can’t keep his own girlfriend happy, so she goes running off to my friend for something she can’t get from me.”

“I know.”

“Not to mention that she’s gonna be painted out to be some slut while they probably won’t bat an eyelash at you,” he points out.

I nod. It’s true. Fucking double standards.

“We’ll be more careful. I promise. I won’t talk to her. I won’t even look at her when there’s cameras around.”

“Do me a favor,” Dylan starts, “You and Cora take my turn tonight in the private room. We’re on the bus all night. Fuck her till you can’t stand the sight of each other. Get it all out of your system. That way you’ll be able to keep it in your pants when we get to the next show.”

“Thanks,” I tell him.

* * *

I shower, but don't bother getting dressed, returning to the main area of the bus with just a towel around my waist. Shawn and Jack are playing some 007 video game and Dylan is on his laptop.

I find Cora in her bunk, on her phone.

“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice low.

“Hi,” she replies. “Just texting Aya. She says hi.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s good. Just got her certification to be a pole dancing instructor.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

“Yeah.”

I soften my gaze. “More importantly, how are you?”

She sighs. “Not bad for Say Yes’s Yoko.” She gestures to her face and long, black hair. “Didn’t take people too long to come up with the comparison.”

“It’ll die down.”

“I know.”

“I wish I could make you feel better,” I tell her. I’ve never wanted anything more than to take Cora’s pain away.

“You showing up at my bunk in nothing but a towel is kind of helping,” she says with a smirk.

I offer her my hand. “Come on. Dylan’s gifted us his turn in the private bedroom. You’re all mine tonight.”

She takes my hand, climbs down, and follows me into the bedroom.

We close and lock the door. I put my arms around her, but she keeps her hands glued to her sides.

She’s hesitant.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I feel guilty,” she says, “I don’t deserve to feel good right now.”

“Of course you do. You deserve to feel good all the time.”

She doesn’t believe me.

I run my fingers through her hair. “Just sleep with me tonight,” I tell her.

She rolls her eyes.

“I mean it,” I say. I do mean it. I want her close to me. I want to get my arms around her and feel her body pressed up against mine. I want to hold her and make her feel safe.

I’ve never wanted to do that with a girl before.

Just sleep.

Of course I wouldn’t turn her down if she changes her mind and demands sex.

Fuck, it’d be so hot if she demands sex.

I lie down on the bed and watch as Cora wriggles out of her jeans. She remains in her black tank top and red panties as she climbs in next to me and makes herself comfortable. She shivers and I wrap the comforter tightly around both of us.

She purrs as she settles into my arms and drifts off to sleep.

* * *

In the morning, I wake before she does and lie still, stroking her hair, watching her while she dozes on my chest.

She looks peaceful. Like her stress has dissipated.

I lie there, just being with her. Could be minutes. Could be hours. I don’t know or care.

She blinks herself awake.

I keep my voice low. “Morning.”

She cracks a little smile. “Morning,” she replies. “What time is it?”

“Ugh,” I grunt. I check my phone. “Around seven thirty. We have another hour before we have to get up.”

Still sleepy, she runs her hand down over my stomach and presses her lips to my neck. It tingles. Her hand creeps lower and lower until she reaches my cock, which is sporting its usual morning semi.

I harden immediately in her hand.

I chuckle. “Baby, where are you going with this?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.

She continues to stroke me as she kisses and sucks on my neck.

“What?” she says with false innocence, “I like morning sex.” She runs her thumb over the head, which is now weeping with pre-cum. She lowers her voice, “And I don’t think I’m the only one.”

She shifts, so that she’s completely on top of me, in the perfect position to ride me. Oh, fuck yes. She takes off her tank top, letting her tits spill out. She lifts her hips and I slide her red panties over her ass, down her legs and off.

“I like those,” I tell her.

“Me too,” she says, “My favorite color.”

“I know.”

“What’s your favorite color?” she asks, in that sultry, sex-kitten voice that makes my dick throb.

“Black,” I tell her, barely able to register the question, let alone choke out an answer. “But I thought you hated cheesy get-to-know-you questions.”

“I do. So I’ll ask a non-cheesy one.”

“Okay, but..” I stammer, “The blood isn’t exactly in my brain right now.”

I can’t help but realize that her nipples are dangerously close to my face. I take one in my mouth and suck, then move to the other, making her groan, low and throaty.

“Favorite sex position?” she asks, finally.

I know that answer immediately.

I scoop her up, under her ass and flip her so that she’s on her back. I take one ankle and guide it over my shoulder and line up my cock with her entrance, teasing her with the head, hoping it’s as torturous for her as it is for me.

“This one,” I tell her, “I get to be as deep inside you as possible.”

“I like this one too,” she says, her breath heavy.

She’s dripping wet, but I go slowly anyway, easing into her inch by inch. She moans loudly. Loud enough that the other guys definitely hear her. I silence her with a kiss as she arches her back, letting me push inside her just a little bit deeper.

She bucks and rides me from beneath, matching my movements. Every moan and cry makes me want to ram her harder, kiss her more ferociously.

Ruin her for any other man.

I watch her stomach tighten. Her thighs shake.

I hear her breath go ragged as she gasps out my name.

I feel her pulse and constrict around my cock as the orgasm threatens to take over her body.

“Come for me, baby,” I hiss, “Come all over me.”

At that, Cora comes, soaking my dick and I practically roar.

I see white as I crash down with her.

I pour everything I have into her, until my body is completely spent and I can’t really feel my limbs. I might be crushing her, but I can’t find the strength to move.

Cora holds my head close to her chest.

I feel her racing heart. I listen as it slows to its normal pace.

I take her face in my hands and kiss her.