Wicked Beat

“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 baggy 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 ni**les 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 cle**age 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 ni**les 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 c**k 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 f**k 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.”

“We used to go days without a decent meal. Myrna has spoiled you,” Jace said and chuckled.

Brian smiled at him. “And not just with her cooking.”

Rebekah turned the meat to sear its other side and searched the fridge for vegetables. Eric almost cut his thumb off as he watched her wriggling backside, which was no longer hidden by her sweatshirt.

“Mercy, woman,” he growled.

She glanced at him, her eyebrows raised in question.

“You have one seriously fine ass.” Eric bit his lip. Sometimes things popped out of his mouth before he had a chance to edit them. Well, they always did, actually.

Instead of chastising him, she grinned and gyrated her hips. “You think so?”

The pain of the knife slicing through the pad of his thumb barely registered.

“Way to go, lover boy. Now you’re bleeding all over our f**king dinner,” Trey said. He nudged Rebekah aside and found a bag of apples in the refrigerator. He tossed one to Brian and claimed one for himself.

“Oh dear.” Rebekah yanked the knife out of Eric’s hand and tossed it in the sink. She grabbed his wrist and kept his hand elevated as she tugged him into the bathroom. She searched frantically through the medicine cabinet. “Don’t you guys have anything but pain relievers in here?”

“We tend to nurse a lot of hangovers.” Eric’s chest constricted over her concern. No one gave a shit about him. Ever. “There should be a first-aid kit under the sink.”

Blood was now dripping down the side of his hand, but the wound didn’t hurt much. She located the kit and wrenched it open. She grabbed a can of antiseptic spray, popped the lid off, and sprayed his wound as if she was an ’80s hairdresser with a can of Aqua Net. Stinging pain shot up his arm.

“Ow! Fuck!” Eric tucked his hand against his chest to protect it from her overzealous disinfection.

“Hold still.” She turned on the water and forced his hand beneath the flow. “Let me see it.”

“Um, Rebekah!” Sed called from outside the bathroom. “I think the roast is burning.”

“Just turn off the burner!” she bellowed. “Eric is more important.”

Eric is more important? Did she really feel that way?

Rebekah inspected his thumb and sucked a breath through her teeth. “It’s not all that deep, but you practically filleted it.”

“If someone hadn’t distracted me with her seriously fine ass…”

She stiffened and lifted her guilty gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ll go put my sweatshirt back on.”

He shifted her back against the sink counter so they were facing each other and pinned her there with his body. “I’d rather you didn’t.”