Olivia Cunning - Wicked Beat

“Maybe there’s a frozen pizza in there,” Brian said, opening the freezer. He leaned in for a closer inspection. “Chicken? Why is there chicken in the freezer?”

“Jessica’s idea,” Sed called from the driver’s seat.

“I thought she was supposed to be a smart chick,” Trey said.

“Does she really think we’re going to eat this complicated stuff?”

“She is a smart chick. She’s marrying me,” Sed called.

Eric and the rest of the guys busted out laughing. “That proves she’s dumb as a post.”

Sed stomped the brakes, and his four bandmates ricocheted off each other like bowling pins. Eric sobered immediately; memories of wrenching metal, fear of death, and agonizing pain in his ankle took all the humor out of the situation. He’d limped for days after the bus accident, but all things considered, with the exception of Dave’s injury, they’d been lucky.

Rebekah untangled her legs from beneath her sweatshirt and slipped between the guys to peer into the fridge. “I can probably throw something together.”

Brian’s head swiveled in her direction. “You know how to cook?”

“I’ve been in the kitchen a time or two.” She smiled at them.

When her eyes fell on Trey, he turned and moved to the front of the bus. He leaned against the dashboard, crossed his arms over his chest, and struck up a conversation with Sed. Eric saw the pain in Rebekah’s troubled eyes before she covered it with a bright smile.

“Go sit down, guys. I’ll make dinner.”

Rebekah’s eyes opened wide when Brian grabbed her in a crushing embrace. “Thank you.” He planted a kiss on her temple and squeezed her enthusiastically, swaying side to side with glee.

Eric wedged an arm between Brian and Rebekah. “What about Myrna? Sheesh!”

Brian released Rebekah, looking puzzled. “What do you mean?

It’s all Myrna’s fault in the first place. She’s spoiled me so much with her cooking that I don’t think I can make myself eat the usual crap we consume on the road.”

So Brian was just thinking about keeping his stomach happy?

Eric wasn’t sure why Brian’s hug and platonic kiss pressed all his jealousy buttons. Maybe because Rebekah looked so pleased about it. Did she have a thing for Brian too? Lots of chicks wanted the Brian/Trey combination. Maybe that’s why she’d freaked out in the storage unit earlier. Maybe she’d wanted to be the filling in a Brian/ Trey sandwich, and Eric had been the wrong kind of bread.

Eric’s heart skipped a beat when she gripped his right hand in both of hers.

She looked up at him, a twinkle in her blue eyes. “You’re going to help me, right, Eric?”

“Help you?”

“Yeah. You can cut vegetables and stuff, right?”

Not exactly. He grinned regardless. He doubted he was capable of telling this woman no. “Sure.”

Rebekah rummaged around in the refrigerator to take inventory.

Eric couldn’t take his eyes off her ass as she bent at the waist and sorted through ingredients. He stood directly behind her, imagining his cock buried in her warm, slick depths. Her smooth, naked skin beneath his fingertips as she allowed his exploration. His possession.

Her warmth against his thighs as he thrust deep. Deep. So deep that his balls pressed against her. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides to prevent himself from grabbing her and showing her the effect that little wiggle of her hips was having on his thoughts and his fly. It was probably a good thing she had that baggie sweatshirt on. If he could actually see her slim thighs and the division between them, the fist-clenching thing would have done little to keep his hands off her. She backed up unexpectedly, and her luscious little ass bumped into his thighs. He didn’t have the mental faculties to take a step back. Instead, his arms slid around her hips and pulled her closer.

She stood upright.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

Even though she had to feel how hard he was against her lower back, she didn’t move away. She tilted her head back to look at him. “I should probably take off this baggie sweatshirt. It’s kind of a fire hazard.”

As far as Eric was concerned, her body was a much greater fire hazard. He was definitely about to burst into flames. The sweatshirt brushed over his face as she lifted her arms and pulled it over her head. Her scent bombarded his senses. He bit his lip to keep from moaning aloud. Dear lord, he wanted her. Even more so when his gaze settled on the twin bumps of her nipples straining against her tank top. It took every shred of his willpower not to stroke them with his thumbs.

“It is chilly in here,” she murmured, taking a deep breath that made her cleavage swell above the neckline of her top.

“Fuckin’ A,” he groaned and lifted his hands with the intention of cupping those two succulent globes of flesh. Of rubbing those erect nipples between his thumbs and forefingers until she begged him to suck them into his mouth and flick his tongue against them.

Rebekah stepped away before he could claim his prize package.

“How does roast sound?” she asked Brian.

“Oh God, yes,” Brian murmured.

Eric had forgotten the guys were even present. He glanced over his shoulder self-consciously. Had they noticed him pressing against their little cock tease of a soundboard operator? And enjoying it immensely? Her coyness might piss off Trey, but it had Eric entirely spellbound. His cheeks pink, Jace offered Eric a knowing grin. That would be one in the “totally noticed it” column. Brian seemed more interested in the lean roast Rebekah set on the counter.

The consistent hum of the bus engine lowered several pitches as Sed directed the bus off the road and into a rest area. Eric braced himself as they drew to a halt and reached for Rebekah to steady her. She smiled her gratitude at him and he grinned like a giddy fool.

“Eric,” she said, “you wash and cut these red potatoes into large chunks.”

He wasn’t sure if he could hold a knife in his trembling hand, but he couldn’t help but be happy that Rebekah had chosen him to help her cook. Not Trey. Eric stifled the urge to stick his tongue out at Sir Fucks-a-lot, who was still chatting with Sed at the front of the bus. Sed stood from the driver’s seat, stretched his arms over his head, and nodded at Trey.

Rebekah tumbled half a bag of potatoes into the sink and left Eric to figure out how to wash and cut them on his own. She heated some oil in a pan and unwrapped the roast. Spellbound, Eric watched her massage spices into the meat, imagining her tiny hands digging into his ass as he gyrated his hips to fuck her deep. And hard.

Would she like it hard? Eric was accustomed to having intensely sensual thoughts frequently. His mind had always been the center of his sexuality, but he didn’t usually get this turned on by everything a woman did. When she tossed the meat into the hot grease and it sizzled loudly, Eric finally snapped back to his senses. He didn’t want that to happen to his ass, thank you very much.

She glanced at him. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

He hated to admit it, but he didn’t. He didn’t want her to get exasperated and shoo him out of the kitchen. He wanted to help her.

To be close to her. Special to her. “Show me.”

She washed a potato, moved it to the cutting board built into the countertop, and cut it into several large pieces. “Do you think you can handle that?” She looked at him from beneath her thick lashes.

Handle what? “Yeah.”

“That smells fantastic already,” Brian crooned from the dining area.

“It won’t be ready for a couple hours.”

Brian covered his belly with both hands when it rumbled with hunger. “I think my stomach will digest itself by then.”