Backstage Pass (Sinners on Tour 1)
Page 37The guy in the next stal echoed Brian’s groan and let a loud fart rip in the toilet. Myrna covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold in her laughter.
Another groan, fol owed by splashes and then… the most horrendous smel .
Myrna gagged.
“Okay, even I can’t come under these conditions.” Brian pul ed out and forced his rigid c**k into his pants. She stood and adjusted her skirt.
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” he said.
She smiled and nodded, hoping he didn’t end up with a huge case of blue bal s. Poor guy. They exited the stal and Brian knocked on the door of the next stal . “Someone’s in here,” a startled man’s voice said.
“Yeah, dude. I heard. You picked a horrible time to take a shit, you know. Have a nice day.”
Myrna burst out laughing and ran to the exit, jerking open the door and surprising a young man trying to enter.
“Excuse me,” she said.
He looked at the Men’s sign on the door and then back at Myrna with a confused expression. Brian came to a halt behind her. The man looked even more confused when he spotted Brian, and then a look of realization dawned on his face.
“No, excuse me,” the man said and stepped aside so Myrna could exit the men’s room. The guy offered Brian a high five as they passed each other in the doorway.
“I don’t know what he’s high-fiving me about. That didn’t go as expected.”
He hugged her against his side as they walked toward the parking garage. “If you’re not complaining, then I won’t either. But you owe me one.”
“I’l make it up to you.”
He kissed her temple and put his sunglasses back on. “I have no doubt that you wil .”
Brian led her to the first floor of the parking garage. Beside the stairwel , a large, red Harley Davidson leaned on its kickstand. He inserted a key into the bike’s ignition and handed Myrna a spare helmet.
“A Harley Fat Boy! Sweet. I didn’t know you had a bike,” she said. “It looks brand new.” She slid the helmet over her head and fastened the chinstrap.
“It’s not mine. Jace let me borrow it. He bought it a couple of weeks ago.”
“I’l have to thank him. Motorcycles make me hot.”
“Is there anything that doesn’t make you hot?” He flipped up her visor and kissed her. She thought for a moment. “Taxes and politics?”
He laughed. “Just tel Jace you rode it without any panties on and that wil be al the thanks he’l ever need.”
She looked down at her gray, pinstriped suit skirt and three-inch heels. “I’m not exactly dressed for this, am I?”
He took off his leather jacket and handed it to her. “Put this on.”
His jacket was several sizes too big and draped over her hands. She could almost wear it as a mini-dress. She zipped it up to her chin.
He smiled at her. “You look adorable.” He tapped her nose with his index finger.
Brian crammed her purse in the smal compartment under the seat. He took off his floppy, leather hat and tried smashing it inside as wel . It wouldn’t fit.
“Would you mind holding my hat while I drive?” he asked.
“Not at al .”
He handed it to her.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t pack a suitcase,” she said.
He laughed and scratched his head as he stared down at the motorcycle’s lack of cargo space. “True. I was in such a hurry to get here, I didn’t think things through clearly. Jace’s bike seemed more manageable than the tour bus.”
“This wil be fun.” She grinned at him and then closed her visor.
Brian put on a helmet and climbed on the bike. God, he looked hot straddling the big machine. The Harley roared to life, rumbling through Myrna’s entire body as he revved the engine. He held her hand while she climbed up on the bike behind him. She had to hike her skirt to the top of her thighs to sit. Her garters showed on both sides, but there was nothing she could do about it. Brian’s hand gripped the bare skin above her white, lace-trimmed stocking.
“I should have cal ed a cab!” he shouted over the roaring engine.
“If you say so.”
He turned the bike out of the parking spot and, once in the exit lane, took off like a shot. She held on tight, molding herself to his back with a satisfied sigh. Her free hand splayed over his black T-shirt and the hard muscles of his chest underneath. She couldn’t think of any place in the world she’d rather be at that moment.
They exited the parking garage and took a ramp to a city street. She assumed he avoided I-5 for her benefit. The sun settled beneath the western horizon as an orange haze. Streetlights flickered on as they traveled a main street through the city. The blowing breeze made the outsides of Myrna’s thighs sting with cold, but Brian’s hips between her thighs kept the insides plenty warm. Passing cars slowed to gawk at them. Hanging out the windows of a compact car, a group of young men wolf-whistled at Myrna’s exposed garters. When they honked and waved, she waved back.
Passing women glared. She didn’t care.
Brian stopped at a stoplight. “It’s at least another fifteen miles,” he said. “Wil you be okay back there? We can stop somewhere and buy you some warmer clothes.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “How are you?”
“I’m suffering, baby. My bal s are starting to ache like you would not believe.”
Holding his hat over his lap with one hand, she moved her other hand to his crotch. His c**k hardened instantly and his body stiffened. The light turned green. He took off like a shot, the bike rumbling beneath them.
“Don’t speed. We might get pul ed over!” she shouted. “Then it wil take longer to get there.”
He slowed down to the speed limit. Her hand continued to stroke him through his leather pants. He took one hand off the handlebars long enough to unfasten his fly and free his cock. Beneath the hat, Myrna’s free hand circled his hot, engorged flesh and stroked its length steadily. The smooth skin felt like satin beneath her fingers. She didn’t know how he managed to concentrate on driving.
Another red light.