I FELL ASLEEP by the time the third bottle of tequila was cracked open. I remembered that Marsha had been discussing film techniques with Alec who had some prior experience in editing. Sandwiched between Rocky and Cody on the opposite couch, Sky had been joking around with them as if they were her siblings. Lucky had been beside me. He had inched precariously close while waving off the tequila shots everyone else did. He preferred Captain Morgan’s spiced rum. He had been drinking it straight from the bottle. His drummer called it Lucky juice. It seemed like every time the lead singer had tipped the bottle of rum back, I had caught his eyes on me. The later it had gotten, and the more tequila I had consumed, the less I had avoided his gaze. The last thing I recalled was him asking me to show him my tits. That had been around two in the morning.
I bolted upright while checking to make sure my clothes were still on. "Fuck!" I exclaimed as I busted my skull against the hard ceiling only inches above me in the bunk compartment. My head throbbed but the mattress was cushy like a cloud beneath me, and I was relieved to discover that I was still wearing my halter and cutoffs. Holding my breath, I stretched my arms wide to determine if I was alone or sharing the bed with someone.
"Ow," Marsha grumbled, throwing my arm back over my body. "Keep your hands to yourself and go back to sleep, bestie. Your virtue is safe with me."
"Not with me,” a deep male voice boomed from somewhere below us. “If you care to join me, I'm the sexy Welshman in the bottom bunk beneath you."
"No thanks,” I whispered. "I'm good here."
"I could make you feel better than good. The blonde, too. I excel at multitasking."
"Shut it, Stallion." Marsha yawned. "We’re exhausted. Let us sleep."
Rocky mumbled an apology and wished us a good night. After a couple of settling breaths, I turned to my side careful not to elbow my best friend. I shut my eyes telling myself not to focus on the fact that the narrow twin bed sized space reminded me of a coffin. That didn’t work. Rolling over, I lifted my head, punched my pillow and tried to sleep in a different position facing Marsha. She was snoring. The cute noise she made sounded like a purring little kitten. It usually didn’t bother me, but tonight everything seemed to be conspiring against me. I turned onto my back, stared at the way-too-close ceiling and started counting sheep. I blew out a frustrated breath after two hundred. Their plaintive bleating had evolved into Lucky’s mocking voice pleading, ‘show me your tits, love.’
It was an utter fail. I couldn't sleep. I scooted to the edge, carefully slid the heavy cloth curtain aside, seeing that my bunk was the middle one in a stack of three. I threw my legs over the side and dropped to the hardwood floor. Silence greeted me save for the faint feline sounds of Marsha's slumber. I reached up, snagged my pillow and tiptoed toward the front of the bus. If no one was in the lounge I planned to stretch out there.
A familiar arm with bracelets shot out from the middle bunk of the adjacent sleeping stack, blocking me. "Get back in bed, Raven."
My name spoken for the first time in that accent from those fascinating full lips drew my nipples and every single nerve ending taut.
"I can't.” The ambient emergency lighting provided a glimpse of Sky’s silhouette in the bunk with him. "I'm claustrophobic. I'll just lie down on the sofa. I won't mess with anything."
"I'm not worried about you nicking anything.” His head peeking out from his bunk, his bangs fell over eyes that seemed black in the shadows. “I'm worried about somebody getting dodgy with you.” His voice lowered. “My bandmates I trust, but there are seven others on this bus right now. Most I don't know all that well. So the only way I'm letting you go to the front alone in the middle of the bloody night is if I go with you. Get it?"
I felt a deep tug near the center of my chest. Warmth blanketed my shoulders. His thoughtful concern dangled before me like an enticing lure. But I reminded myself that he had a girlfriend. A sharing type one. I couldn't even fathom how that worked emotionally. On the other hand, there was a part of me that just didn't care about any of that. He made my senses light up like a pinball machine on a bonus round. Sex with him would be beyond incendiary. I'd fucked Rayne. I could fuck Lucky without my heart getting involved, couldn't I?
"Did you hear me, Angel?" His voice compelled me, a weighted command that crumbled more reservations. "I'm completely knackered, but I will get out of my bunk and put you back in yours if I must."
I took a step back, though I was tempted to take a step forward. Frustrated by the tug and pull inside of me and frightened by how little effort he had to exert to mess with me, I lashed out. "You do sound tired, but I wonder why? Is it only because of all the rum you drank? Or did you do something stronger, some bad seeds or some smack perhaps?"
He came out of his bed and dropped to the floor so quickly I barely had time to stumble backward to avoid a collision. Barefoot, he silently stalked closer, the jeans he had worn earlier sliding indecently low on his slim hips. Accusations scattered, replaced by wicked thoughts.
“Angel,” he whispered, caging me between his sculpted arms and the bunks behind me. My will power wavered in his warmth. His smooth chest promised a plethora of traceable male contours. Trapped, my arms stiffened at my sides. I curled my fingers into my palms.
Don’t touch, I told myself. Don’t succumb. You don’t need his brand of guaranteed trouble. My heart raced. Impossibly tense, so conflicted by all that he made me feel, I flinched when he reached for me.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was softer than the roughened edges of the fingertips that he skimmed gently along my jawline. Simple skin to skin connection, his caress conducted crackling heat throughout my body as he captured my chin and turned my face toward his. "I don't take drugs." His right brow dipped along with the seriousness to his tone. "Others might. My mates smoke weed occasionally. But it's not my scene. I have too many people depending on me to indulge those vices." Eyes intense interrogating pools of blue, he tilted my head so that my features were fully illuminated like his. "But it seems odd to me that you would accuse me when you seem to know so much about it all. That you recognized the smell of marijuana so readily. That the street names for peyote and heroin roll off your tongue so casually." He was too smart. Too observant. And I had nowhere to hide. Completely vulnerable, truth, that I should have kept hidden, tumbled from my lips.
“I’m familiar with those things because I used to do them, and it got my brother killed.” I shrugged free, my heart hammering, my chest rising and falling with each breath. "I'll stay in my bunk." I crossed the aisle quickly and lifted my arms to clamber up, but he caught me before I could get away. His fingers, the long digits warm and free of the metal that had encircled them earlier, grasped my upper arms firmly. "Don't touch me," I hissed unkindly.
"You didn't seem to mind Rayne putting his hands all over you.” His tone was sharp. “Why not me?" He pressed closer against my back, his rum spiced breath intoxicating, his body compellingly warm and decadently hard in all the right places.
“Because you have a girlfriend right now, right there in your bed yet here you are coming on to me.” Alert bells clanged inside my brain. He represented temptation, but he wasn’t safe. He wasn’t like Rayne. I needed to pick rock stars I could control, not ones who could potentially turn the tables on me. “You’re exactly the type of guy I don’t want. You’re just like my ex. A cheater. A total turnoff."