Olivia Cunning - Wicked Beat

Rebekah couldn’t stop shaking. She felt like she was going to collapse.

“I d-don’t want to,” she whispered. A lie. But better than them finding out and making her feel the way Isaac had made her feel.

Empty. Useless.

“Cock tease,” Trey muttered under his breath. He pushed away from her and stormed out of the garage.

Rebekah watched him stalk off, not sure why it upset her so much. “He’ll hate me now,” she whispered.

“He’ll get over it.” Eric wrapped an arm around her back and rubbed her upper arm encouragingly. “You okay? You’re shaking all over.”

She swallowed her threatening tears and nodded. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Eric’s steady strength comforted her more than he could possibly realize. That he didn’t demand to know why she was so upset and stupid won the guy so many brownie points, he could have led every Girl Scout troop in the contiguous forty-eight states. Not that she could ever mistake him for a girl. Not after feeling that stone-hard cock against her mound. And he was still threatening to bust the zipper of his pants. Not that she was staring at it or anything.

“So you got her started?” he asked.

Rebekah jerked and tore her eyes off the bulge in Eric’s pants, erm, her shoes to glance at him in question. “Huh?”

“My car.”

She smiled, grateful for the subject change. It helped her bury all the hurt and distract her from the white elephant in his pants, erm, in the room. “Yeah, she started right up.”

“She must really like you.”

Rebekah’s smile broadened. “You think so?”

“Oh yeah. She has excellent taste in women.”

Rebekah felt her cheeks grow pink. “Has she started for a lot of women then?” Surely a handsome, successful musician like Eric Sticks had a harem of women at his disposal. She glanced at him and found him staring at her through half-closed lids. Her nipples pebbled under his attention. She swallowed and averted her gaze.

Even when Trey had been stroking her breasts, her nipples hadn’t gotten that hard. Why Eric? There was no denying he was handsome, but Trey… Whoa. She’d always thought Trey Mills was finer than Royal Copenhagen china. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe some Corelle dinnerware was more practical. Maybe Eric could be her everyday dish, and she could take Trey out for special occasions.

If ever. He’d sure look nice in her china cabinet stored safely behind the glass.

Eric grinned, obviously unaware that she was mentally comparing him to tableware. “My baby doesn’t kiss and tell.”

She laughed. “Fair enough.”

“You ready to get on the road?”

“Heck yeah, I am,” she said.

“You have your CDL, I assume.”

“CDL?”

“Commercial Driver’s License. You’ll need it to drive the bus.”

Rebekah’s heart slammed into her ribs. “I can’t drive the bus!”

“Then who’s going to drive? Dave used to be our regular driver.”

“Not me.” Dave had crashed said bus and nearly died. He would have died if Jace hadn’t pulled him from the fiery wreckage or if Eric hadn’t resuscitated him by giving him CPR. As she and Eric walked out of the garage and back toward the tour bus, she paused and took his arm to draw him to a halt. “Eric?”

He looked down at her and her heart started thudding again.

Why did it keep doing that? He was just standing there. Yes, he looked at her like she was his favorite dish and he was starving to death, but that didn’t explain her reaction to him.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Her grip on his arm tightened. She wanted him to feel her gratitude. See it in her eyes. “Thank you for saving my brother’s life.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. If there’s anything I can do to repay you…” And she did mean anything. Well… with the exception of threesome quickies in a storage area.

He shrugged, but couldn’t hide the pleased little smile on his lips. “No big. That CPR stuff comes in real handy around this band.

Are you certified? You never know when someone’s going to have a grand mal seizure, crash a bus, or pass out in their own vomit.”

Ew. Rebekah’s stomach rolled. “Um. Vomit?”

“No worries. I’ll take care of all the vomity ones.”

She chuckled and then broke into delighted laughter.

He grinned. “You get that I’m joking?”

“Well, of course you’re joking. Vomity ones.” She laughed again. “Too funny.”

“Most people don’t get my jokes. Say they’re inappropriate.” He finger-quoted inappropriate.

“Are they idiots?”

“Arguably.”

She laughed again.

“A woman who gets my jokes…” His pleased little grin turned into a broad smile. “Can I buy you a coffee sometime? Or a jet?”

“A jet?” She laughed until her stomach ached and she had to bend over with her hands on both knees to catch her breath. “You’re killing me.”

“Gives me an excuse to practice my CPR. So nice of you to volunteer your soft and tasty lips.”

When he leaned closer, she halted his seeking lips with a hand in his face. “Easy there. Do I look like CPR Annie to you?”

“Not at all. But if it will make you feel better, I can close my eyes and pretend.”

Actually, she was already feeling better. She didn’t need to pretend. Eric Sticks was like a refreshing breeze, blowing away all the clouds that insisted on blotting out her sunshine. Too bad she still had her heart set on Trey.

Stomach protesting its emptiness, Eric opened the small refrigerator and hunted for something edible. There was one good thing about losing their previous bus. All the suspicious-looking, past-their-expiration-date condiments had been replaced with new bottles. Unfortunately, Eric’s secret stash of hot dogs had not.

Neither had most of the beer. The stuff currently stocking the fridge looked suspiciously like vegetables and raw meat.

Eric leaned back and waved a hand at the refrigerator. “What’s up with the food? Where are my hot dogs?”

Jace rose from the booth around the dining table and stood beside him, his brow crumpled with confusion. “Are those vegetables?”

“Looks like it.”

Trey and Brian came to stand in their little huddle before the open refrigerator door. The four of them stood there staring into the fridge as if assessing a piece of modern art for deeper meaning.

“Wait. Is that… cauliflower?” Brian asked, reaching in and poking the package of cauliflower as if he expected it to bite him.

“Sed!” Trey called to Sed, who was driving the bus in Dave’s absence. They’d already decided they needed to hire a new driver as soon as possible, but this arrangement would work for now.

“What?” Sed called from the driver’s seat.

“Do you know anything about the vegetables in the refrigerator?”

“Jessica says I need to eat better.”

“So putting this stuff in the fridge makes her think you’re actually going to eat it?” Trey asked.

“I guess.”

“Did she forget that none of us can cook?”

“I can stir up some scrambled eggs,” Eric said. It was the one thing he knew how to cook. And they could be flavored with just about anything. He enjoyed trying new spices. Perhaps nutmeg and sage this time.

Eric reached for the carton of eggs.

Jace karate chopped his wrist, and Eric’s fingers went numb.

“Step away from the eggs, Sticks.”

Eric might have complained, but Rebekah giggled at his expense and his concentration shattered. He glanced at her sitting in one of the captain’s chairs with her feet curled beneath her. Her mismatched socks barely showed from beneath the ginormous sweatshirt she was swimming in. The faded red garment must have once belonged to a four-hundred-pound linebacker. She’d insisted that she was cold when he’d teased her about wearing it earlier. She was already so goddamned adorable, and that huge garment made her seem even more petite. He suppressed the urge to sweep her into his arms and bury his face in her neck. And lose his hands inside that baggy sweatshirt to see if her pert nipples were hard again.