Consumed (Page 26)
Her being in town explains why Wyatt was nowhere to be found last night, and I’ve got to admit, it’s a relief. Nothing would ruin this tour faster than
“Guess you weren’t lying about this early morning thing,” Sienna says, and I look back to see her sitting up, her red hair all over her place, looking like the best kind of trouble. “Do I have time to shower or are we too late?”
“Tyler will live.” I skim my hand down the side of her face, and she shivers. “And there’s no f**king way you’re going into that bathroom without me.”
A half an hour later when we go downstairs, there’s already a car waiting out front for us—Kylie’s doing because she’s the only person besides my housekeeper and myself with the code to the gate. Once Sienna and I are securely inside and the car has started to move, I sink back in the black leather seat, squeeze my eyes shut, and let my head fall back on the headrest.
This is the first time in months that I’ve overslept, but not for a good reason. I’ve got one motherfucker of a headache. The little bit of sleep I managed to get last night was screwed over by shitty dreams. The only bright side is the twenty minutes I spent in the shower with Sienna, with my c**k buried deep inside of her, and her fingernails raking a crisscross pattern across my back as we f**ked against the tile wall.
Even then, even after letting go, she was still tense from arguing about Sam last night.
Automatically, the muscles in the back of my neck tighten. Fucking Samantha. She’s kept her promise to leave me alone, and yet she’s still causing me problems.
Sienna rests her hand on my chest. “You alright?” Her voice is worried. Even when she’s frustrated with me—with anyone—my needs are still first and foremost to her.
I open my eyes and take in the sight of her. “How many of the tour cities have you been to?”
Her eyebrows knit together over her blue eyes. “Did you know that you’re the most evasive, infuriating man that I’ve ever known?”
“There you go again.” I brush my thumb over her cheek, and her shoulder lifts a little. “Answer the question, Sienna. How many?”
She draws in a breath and then lets it out. “A handful,” she says. I trail my finger around the scooped neck of her tight T-shirt, and she flushes the sexiest shade of red. Staring down at her thighs, she continues, “We didn’t go on many vacations when my parents were still together. Once they got divorced, travel all but stopped. Unless you don’t count my dad’s half-assed attempt to get Seth and me to move to Maine.”
I don’t know much about Sienna’s childhood, but the few times she’s mentioned it, she almost immediately changed the subject. Hearing the disappointment in her voice—it just makes me want to protect her even more.
“I’ll take you everywhere with me.” To drive my point home, I take her hands, holding her long, slim fingers feel between mine. “As long as you don’t get tired of it and tell me to f**k off.”
Dipping her head, she presses her lips to the side of my wrist closest to her face. “I’m a travel virgin. I won’t get tired.”
Glancing up at the driver who’s eyes keep looking at the rearview mirror, I let go of her hands and touch my mouth to her ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll—” I begin, but then I realize she’s not wearing her usual apple-scented perfume today, but something else with a hint of cherry. “Fuck, you smell good enough to eat,” I whisper.
“Good luck with that on the bus.” She inclines her head to five parked buses coming into view. “Holy shit . . . you never said it was that many.”
“It’s a big tour, Red. Two buses for us, one for Wicked Lambs, and two more for the crew. We’ve moved past the days of the one bus shit.”
“That sounds so unbelievably cocky.”
“Just being honest.” I regret those words the moment I say them. Irritation flashes in her blue eyes, but she blinks and it’s gone almost as quickly as it came. Our driver slows the car to a park, and as soon as he gets out to grab our things, I take the conversation back to where I was intending to go before her scent f**ked me up. To a place that’s far away from words like past and truth and honesty.
“Just so you know, your ass is mine as soon as we get on that bus, and I’m going to enjoy breaking you in to each and every new city,” I whisper, and she races her tongue over her lips. I can’t decide if it’s just nerves or to test me.
“I’m guessing that has nothing to do with sight-seeing,” she says as the driver opens the door for her. I’m right behind her, steadying her by gripping her hips so she doesn’t fall over on the bright wedge sandals that make her legs seem even longer. As I stand up, my c**k brushes up against her ass, and she jerks forward, taking in a sharp gasp of air.
“That was on purpose.” Since Wyatt’s approaching us and grinning I keep my voice low enough for only her to hear me. “Like I told you in there, your ass is mine.” Her mouth is parted when she whips her head around to look at me. “You can take that however you want for now.”
“Honestly, I’m afraid to take it anyway.”
Our conversation is cut short after that because of Wyatt, who gives me about 10 excuses on why he bailed after the show last night until he finally fesses up and admits that Kylie flew in from New Orleans to spend the night with him. “I already know where you were,” I say when he’s done.
When he catches up to me, he’s shoving a cigarette into his mouth. “Then why the f**k did you let me go through all that?”