(pg 89 – 91)
by Olivia Cunning
Myrna stopped in front of the bathroom door and knocked.
“Occupied,” Brian’s voice came from the other side.
“It’s Myrna. Can I come in?”
The door opened. A hand in a fingerless, leather glove grabbed her forearm and tugged her inside. Brian wrapped her in a tight embrace. She buried her nose in his leather jacket at his shoulder. God, he smelled good. In the three hours since she’d last seen him, she’d actually missed him. Not good. She had to say good-bye to him in a couple hours.
“I’m glad you made it,” he murmured.
His hard body trembled against her. She leaned back to look at him and she couldn’t help but gape. Heavy, black eyeliner surrounded his eyes.
“You’re wearing more makeup than I am.”
“Do I look like a pussy?” Staring into the mirror above the sink, he barred his teeth at his reflection to make himself look mean.
Myrna hugged him from behind. “No. As always, you look sexier than should be allowed by law.”
“Are you going to arrest me?”
Her hand slid down to cup his package through his pants. “No, but I might have to punish you.”
Brian caught her hand. “Don’t get me worked up now,” he said. “I’ve got to be on stage in thirty minutes and I can barely walk as it is.”
She chuckled. Her hips and legs had gotten quite a workout today, as well. “I know the feeling. Is that why you’re trembling?”
He shook his head. “Typical preshow jitters. I’ll be fine once I’m on stage.”
He tugged her around his body so that she faced him. She leaned back against the sink and accepted his tender kiss.
“I’m glad you came,” he said. “I had it in my head that I’d never see you again.”
“I wouldn’t miss this show for anything. I might not look it, but I’m your biggest fan.”
“I like this suit.” He fingered the top button of her blouse. “Do you have your garters on underneath?”
“If I decide you’re worthy, you might find out after the show.”
“Now there’s an incentive. I need to get warmed up. My fingers are stiff.”
“Will you kiss me first?”
He rested his hands on the sink on either side of her hips and leaned forward to claim her mouth. Like a struck a match, she ignited with need. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers intertwined with the hair at the nape of his neck. Normally soft, it was now stiff and sticky with hairspray and gel. She felt she had access to two undeniably sexy men in one. The real Brian she’d spent the day with—a ten out of ten. And this rock star version, Master Sinclair—another ten out of ten. They were the same person, and yet, totally different.
Pulling away slowly, he opened his eyes to pin her with a sultry look. “I’ll play something for you on stage.”
“What?” she asked breathlessly.
Leaving Myrna leaning against the sink, Brian opened the bathroom door. Some girl with black and purple hair was instantly in his face. “Master Sinclair! Finally. I’ve been waiting to see you for-like-ever!” She grabbed his arm and hopped up and down. “Oh my God, I loooooove you. Can I have your autograph? Pleeeeeease.”
He scarcely glanced at her as he signed the insert to a Sinners’ CD that she’d handed him.
The girl looked over his shoulder into the bathroom. “Who’s that?”
“None of your business.” He handed her pen and CD insert back to her. “Go get me a beer.”
And off she went without protest.
Myrna laughed. Brian glanced at her over his shoulder, an eyebrow quirked at her. She shook her head at him, still grinning. How easy would it be to get a superiority complex with these fans racing around to fulfill your every desire?
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