The tour rolled on and they got closer to them leaving and heading out on their own tour and closer to visiting his family. They’d end up not too far from his hometown, so he planned on dropping by to see his mom and brother. Having someone around chronicling his days, turned out to be less weird than he imagined. It could also be the fact that Keira had been given this task and not a random off the street. That they’d only known each other less than a couple weeks hadn’t even registered. Their connection had been immediate and living in close proximity forced a certain level of comfort that compressed time.

Waking up next to someone with morning breath, wearing his glasses and spending most waking hours together had a way of quickly pushing two people together. She’d run ahead into the diner to grab a table for them. If you weren’t one of the first off the bus, being stuck by the bathrooms in any place the crew visited was inevitable. And the rule about no No. 2 on the tour buses meant that being stuck by the bathrooms could be a serious hazard to your health, and appetite, with over forty guys on the tour.

They’d quickly fallen into a routine on the bus between dashing off to sound checks, meals and performances, which meant that it looked like a tornado had blown through there. Looking for his wallet, Eric pushed a pile of clothes off the edge of the bed. The envelope with Keira’s prints inside fell off the bed and several prints spilled out, spreading across the floor. He’d seen the photos that the label approved and from what he’d heard they’d been selling well. She’d shoot them the day of a show, run out to find a place to develop them, the studio approved them and then they’d order multiple prints at a local shop and sell them during the shows. But the picture that drew Eric’s attention hadn’t been approved by the studio. In the corner, she’d scribbled ‘private' on the print and underlined it.

He recognized the clothes he had on in the shot. This was only a few days ago. The first time he’d performed the Talia song. She’d caught him in a moment of intense frustration and anger and turned it into something else. He saw the pain there. She’d made it so plain to him that he couldn’t look away. This wasn’t a shot for fans, but it drilled into him like a portal into everything he experienced writing those lyrics. While he expressed himself through his lyrics, she could do it so hauntingly and vividly through her lens.

She saw that when she’d looked at him in that moment, but hadn’t turned it over. He was sure the studio would have loved this, especially coupled with the completed song he’d sent to them. Looking at that picture and thinking about the whole situation, a weight lifted off him. He didn’t feel that pain anymore. Not even anger. She’d helped him see that Talia no longer had a hold on him. But Keira did, stronger and tighter than any woman ever had before and he was determined that tonight their professional relationship would take on a different tune.

* * *

As Eric climbed off the stage, Keira’s pulse raced and her stomach fluttered as he made his way toward her. His show had taken on a different slant than it normally did. Usually, he played to the crowd, tried to get them involved, which was getting easier and easier at each stop. They were singing his lyrics back at him, but not tonight. On stage tonight, his eyes had undressed her with every song, every lyric sung he’d show her what he would do to her as soon as he got off the stage. Her defenses couldn’t hold up to that kind of amped up seduction. A man with his guitar, commanding a crowd and singing about everything he’d ever wanted to do to a woman. Do to her.

All day he’d been working her into a frenzy. At the diner, he sat on the same side of the booth as her. His leg grazed against hers constantly. He found little excuses to touch her hair, her neck, her face. She’d never known how much damned lint and eyelashes she apparently shed. He changed right in front of her on the bus, pulling his shirt up and over his head, showing off his sinewy body and happy trail that had her licking her lips before she could turn around, fanning herself.

Backstage, before he went up, he brushed up against her, the guitar between them, poking her like an extension of his manhood. By the time he’d gone up on stage she didn’t’ know if she was coming or going. Preferably, coming. Her mind raced as she tried to go through that list of professionalisms over and over again in her head. But the list quickly became a jumbled mess of words that didn’t mean anything, like when a word repeated in your head.

The minute his feet hit the bottom of the steps, his lips found hers and he pushed her up against the backstage wall, attacking her mouth like a man starved.

“Eric,” she said, staring into his eyes, but her mouth just opened and closed like a fish.

“No more words,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the hall toward the dressing room. No longer able to put up any resistance, she sunk into the kiss before grabbing the back of his head and attacking his mouth with as much ferocity as he attacked hers. Screw professionalism…

* * *

The pounding vibrations of the band on stage filtered back to the dressing room. Eric had her pinned to the top of the vanity, back pressed up against the mirror. The mirror even colder against her searing flesh as Eric ran his lips all over her neck and shoulders. She held his head to her neck while he nipped and sucked on her skin, tasting the salty sweat.

“How long until they’re finished out there?” she panted, hiking her legs up higher on his hips. She was liquid, her panties completely soaked.

“Not long enough, but this is only round one, Keira,” he said, promising her it was going to be a long night, his eyes like liquid sex, she didn’t know if she’d be able to stop if someone came in and interrupted them.

He tugged on the waistband of her jeans. She lifted her hips to help him slide them over her ass and down around her ankles. They hung off her feet as he got down on his knees and spread her legs open. She tried to squeeze them closed, but he pinned her with a hard stare.

“You’ve denied me this long, I’m not doing anything else until I have a taste,” he growled. All she could do was nod. He breathed her in before spreading her lips apart, the wet snick reaching her ears and turning her even redder than before. He groaned, teasing her opening with two fingers before burying his face in her pussy.

She cried out, clamping her thighs around his head, happy there was a pounding concert going on to mask every scream, cry and shriek he drew from her as he teased her clit, pumping his fingers into her. His callused fingers rubbing inside of her and touching places she’d never been touched before. Her legs shook and she gripped the edge of the vanity before she grabbed onto his hair and screamed as the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had overtook her. She saw stars winking in and out of her vision before he gave her a final kiss on her clit that made her jump.

He stood and threaded his fingers through her hair, kissing her. She tasted him and her on her lips and she wanted more. He reached into his back pocket and slid the condom on before burying himself in her in a slow, tortious thrust. He picked up the pace, slamming into her in rhythm with the driving bass from Uncharted up on stage.

The angle of his thrusts ground against her clit, making her legs tremble. He slid his hand along the side of her face, rubbing his thumb over her lips before pulling her head toward his as he increased his pace and mimicked those thrusts with his tongue. The thin threads holding her together were coming apart with each thrust, pulling his head down to her, she held his face between her hands as he gripped her hair, tilting her head back to pepper her neck with kisses and bites.

As the band on stage reached the climax of their song, Keira exploded around Eric, screaming out her release as he continued to pump into her. He cried out, tensing between her legs as he pushed himself into her for a final time, emptying his release into her. An unexpected second orgasm ripped through her, she’d never had a double before. He held her as she rode out the waves of her second orgasm. He could feel a shutter course through her body and she smiled against his neck. She slumped back against the mirror trying to catch her breath, pledging to herself that when the feeling returned to her limbs she would thank him profusely.

So what did this mean for the two of them? Sleeping with someone on tour was a complication and she didn’t know how it would change things.