“Come on,” he says, offering his tattooed hand down to the girl.
Great, she’s about to have the night of her life aboard the tour bus, getting her brains banged out by the most awesome rock band of all time. Is it weird that I’m a little jealous even though I’m totally straight?
The girl looks back at me and then up at Rob as if it’s a fucking decision before finally handing her empty cup to me and taking his hand so he can pull her up the stage. I give her ass a boost to help her up, depressed to see her go but glad for the time we got to have together, even if I never did get her name. Removing my used condom, I toss it on the ground in frustration to zip up my leather pants, disappointed I only got to be with the sexy purple-haired girl one time.
“You too,” Rob Lawrence says, holding down his palm to me.
“Me?” I repeat in disbelief, even pointing a finger at my own chest to confirm I heard him right.
“Yeah, you! Time to party with Rob Lawrence. Are you in or out, man?”
Did he just refer to himself in the third person? That is so…strange and awesome.
For a heartbeat, I wonder if accepting the lead singer’s hand means I’m agreeing to sleep with him. But then I decide that getting to touch him and meet him is totally worth the risk. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
I clasp his hand and heft my knee up on stage to climb up since I weigh a lot more than the chick.
“Thanks, man. You’re incredible!” I tell Rob Lawrence as I get to my feet, sounding like the fanboy I am.
“No problem! Now, let’s hurry up and get out of the storm and get to some place that’s dry,” Rob tells us. He points back behind the stage. “But it probably won’t stay that way for long,” it sounds like he mutters.
Chapter Three
Jetta
When I woke up this morning, I had no idea that I would flash hundreds of people my boobs, hook up with a man I just met at a rock festival, see Wasteland Authority from the front row, and I never, in a million years, expected to be hurrying along behind Rob Lawrence toward his tour bus!
Boy am I glad I threw my three date-rule out the window, or I would probably be heading home with Carla and Mitch to spend another night alone.
Instead, I’m here, climbing up onto the bus full of rock stars for what I hope will be the most exciting night of my life after what can only be described as hands down, without a doubt, the best sex I’ve ever had. The thrill of possibly getting caught, of having other people watch us, it was insane, like nothing I’ve ever done before. Who knew I was an exhibitionist? I sure as hell didn’t before now. I’ve never imagined being with more than one man at a time, but only because I never thought it was possible to sleep with the entire Wasteland Authority band.
Except, after I sweep my wet hair back from my face to see better, the inside of the tour bus is empty other than the three of us standing in the crowded living room, dripping wet.
“Where’s everyone at?” my hot hookup asks from behind me.
“Oh, the rest of the band are a bunch of pussies,” Rob says. “They’re hunkering down in the back of some concession stand. I highly doubt a tornado will come through here.”
“A tornado?” I repeat.
“Yeah, the city is just under a watch, not a warning or anything,” he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Rob Lawrence isn’t going to die from a fucking twister.”
Hot guy I just had mind-blowing sex with and I exchange a shared look of concern when he mentions a national disaster and continues speaking about himself in third person. Then we both pull out our phones, his from his tight pants pocket and mine from my fanny pack. Sure enough, there’s a National Weather Service warning about a severe thunderstorm in the area and a tornado watch.
“We’ll get a notice if there’s an actual tornado in the area, right?” hot guy asks me.
“Right, yeah,” I agree when I put my phone away in the zipper pouch. I refuse to let even Mother Nature ruin this incredible night for me.
“Bedroom is this way,” Rob says as he strolls toward the back of the bus. “I’m sure you’re both dying to see where Rob Lawrence sleeps and fucks.”
“You heard the man,” the sex god says when his palm squeezes my hip, “Rob Lawrence’s bedroom is that way,” he adds softly with a grin.
“Is this crazy or what?” I whisper to him.
“It’s fucking insane. Do you think Rob Lawrence would mind if I take his photo?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Yes, definitely,” I whisper before I take a deep breath and make my way to the bedroom. An enormous bed covered in leopard print is about all there is in the entire room other than a few cabinets mounted on the wall between two windows and a nightstand. There’s barely enough room to walk around the bed that’s bigger than a king size. It’s definitely orgy size.
And at the moment, there’s a half-naked rock star, who is sitting on the side of the bed shirtless and removing his gray snakeskin pants. “Better get out of those wet clothes before you get the bed wet,” Rob tells us when he glances up and sees us both standing frozen in the doorway.
“Huh?”
“Get naked, woman. Your clothes are dripping all over the place. Not to mention your tits are already out and I just watched you get fucked.”
“You did?” hot guy asks.
“You both got me so hot I momentarily forgot the words to a song I’ve probably sung a million times,” Rob Lawrence says when he stands up, completely naked with his penis hanging thick and heavy between his legs with a silver piercing shining from the tip. “How long have you two been together?” he asks while waving his index finger between us.
“What?” I ask, finding it hard to think because I’m too busy staring at his amazing hard body and sexy tattoos covering nearly every inch.
“We’re not together,” hot guy says from behind me. “We just met earlier tonight at the concession stand.”
“No shit?” Rob responds with a chuckle while grabbing his dick. “A fucking match made in heaven,” he says. “Sounds like the start of a new song.”
“Really?” I say in disbelief. I can barely make a coherent sentence; this scene is so surreal.
“Oh yeah,” he replies before walking around the bed and rubbing his naked ass against the front of my body to get to the nightstand on this side of the room. He reaches in while flashing us his bare backside, and then tosses what looks like a handful of colorful condom wrappers onto the bed. “I hope you like fruit flavors.”
“Sure, fruity condoms are the best,” I agree. What else is there to say to that? I didn’t even know there were different flavors!
“No photos or videos, by the way. Or tweeting. If Rob Lawrence sees a phone, he’ll confiscate it and then kick your asses out, understood?”
“Yes,” I agree.
“What are your names, by the way? Or should I just call you Tit Girl and Fuck Boy?” the rock star asks us.
“Jetta. I’m Jetta,” I tell him in a rush as I kick off my sandals.
“I’m Devlin,” my hot hook up reveals his name. So much for a night of anonymous sex since we’ll never be able to forget the night we spent in bed with Rob Lawrence. My belly does a little flop of anticipation and anxiety because I’ve never been with two men at the same time. I’m not sexually adventurous! Letting a man screw me from behind at a concert was the wildest thing I’ve ever done.