All Fired Up. Madelynne Ellis
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Ginny. What with one thing after another post show, the fact he was meant to meet her had completely slipped his mind. Although, hang on. He checked the time. He wasn’t due at the Arc de Triomphe until midnight. Why was she texting him now?
Where are you? He typed and hit send.
On your bunk. Flicking through your porn.
Really, where are you?
Your bunk.
She couldn’t really be on the tour bus. Troels, their driver, wouldn’t let her on. OK, he might, depending on what Ginny had said, and if he believed he was doing Ash a favour. It wasn’t as if the band’s resident Cave Troll hadn’t sneaked a girl or two on board in the past for him.
Why don’t you come and check if you don’t believe me? It’s all quiet here, no one’s home. It’s just me and a lot of empty beds. Whose do you think we should try out first?
Ash shot to his feet.
Maybe Xane’s? No. Spook’s. We can rumple all his neat edges and give his mattress springs a workout. It’ll be the only action they ever see if your assertions he’s celibate are to be believed.
‘Ginny, you’d better be pissing with me,’ he mumbled. What in the name of hell was she playing at? She’d seemed fine with their arrangement the last time he’d seen her. They’d had a lot of fun playing Secret Agent and Spy on the train under the English Channel.
‘Where the hell are you going?’ Rock Giant asked, when Ash pulled on his leather jacket.
‘I’m …’ He stalled, having failed to invent an adequate answer. ‘Off,’ he concluded. He turned to Spook, hoping his friend would understand why this was important. If he didn’t make the connection now, then Ash would explain it later. ‘Sorry. I’ve really got to go. Something’s come up.’
‘Can it not wait until dessert? At least finish your meal.’
Ash’s phone buzzed again. This time the message came with an attachment. Ash opened it and gawped at the screen. She’d only gone and sent him a picture of her pert and very sexy derrière wrapped in fishnets and the skimpiest, sexiest black silk shorts he’d ever had the pleasure to behold. She was bent over, clearly on the tour bus, as the bunk room was in the background.
‘I’d love to, but no. I’m sorry. I need to run.’ He needed to get her off that tour bus before anyone saw her there.
Ash arrived with a plan that would bypass questions and get them both off the bus and somewhere private fast. Unfortunately, every coherent thought in his head went bye-bye the moment he saw her poised waiting for him. God, she was …
His jaw dropped as he hurried towards her.
… she was going to be the goddamned death of him.
Ginny had gone all out to entice, dressed in his favourite fishnets that covered her slender legs and disappeared inside those teeny satin shorts. Her lovely figure was cinched into a corset. She had on elbow-length fingerless gloves and her black hair had been styled into a wild mass of curls.
She looked both nightmarish and terrific.
Make that tongue-lolling, instant-hard-on terrific.
Hottest-thing-in-universe terrific.
Fuck! His heart took up residence outside his ribcage.
Sure, her get-up was slightly sleazy, but you’d hear no complaints from him about that. Hey, he knew what he liked, and so apparently did she. That fact would probably have scared the shit out of him, if his brain had still been functioning above animal level.
‘Looking for a good time?’ she asked, smiling down at him from under her thick eyelashes. She stood with one leg provocatively bent to block his passage, and an arm outstretched. In her hand she held a riding crop.
He gulped, not sure if he was hopelessly turned on or plain shit-scared at the possibility of her using it on him. He did know that if he didn’t adjust his pants soon they were going to cut his cock in two.
‘I think I might have found it,’ he croaked as he attempted to mount the bottom step, only for her to flick out the riding crop and block his passage. Ash froze as the looped leather end ticked against his chest and descended sharply towards his groin.
Damn, damn and heck!
This was bad. Seriously bad. His cock was saying yee haw, while something in the back of his brain tried to remind him that the goal here was to get her away from the bus so that they weren’t seen by the band, or anyone else for that matter.
‘Rules first.’ Her smile lit her face like a neon light, and made him salivate like one of Pavlov’s ruddy dogs. ‘You sit, you don’t touch and you do as you’re told. Got it?’
He mindlessly nodded. Got it? Sure, he got it. Not that there was enough blood left in his head to make an informed decision, but, his cock was in full agreement. It apparently liked her bossy and fiendish.
‘Then do come in.’
This was crazy. Why was he accepting invitations onto his own tour bus? It was the fault of those shorts, and her pert little ass, or maybe the ultra-glossy scarlet lipstick he wanted to see smeared across her face, or maybe just the fact that he hadn’t got laid in over 48 hours. He was used to a certain amount of sex, and he just wasn’t getting it so far on this tour. Instead of every night, all night, he was seeing Ginny every two to three days. Was it any wonder that he turned into a slathering beast the moment he saw her?
She’d been busy inside the bus. ‘My God!’ he gasped. She’d transformed the place into a sumptuous gothic boudoir by swathing everything in black velvet and dragging Rock Giant’s favourite chair into the central aisle.
‘Take a seat.’ She gave him an intoxicating smile, then a persuasive push in the direction of the leather seat. When he stayed upright, she snapped the crop against his backside, making him jump.
He sat, shocked and tingling.
‘Ginny, we can’t do this here. We’d arranged a time and a place.’
‘So you don’t want to see me dance?’ she said, pouting and opening her eyes really wide.
‘I …’ Absolutely, he did want to see her dance. Especially since, in that outfit, he was pretty certain she wasn’t going to perform ballet, but something rather more raw and dirty. He glanced around. The bus windows were tinted, so no one could see in from outside, and the band were still dining, so he guessed they had a couple of minutes. That left the crew to consider, and he had no idea where they might be, but presumably Cave Troll or one of the others had let her on board in the first place, so they already knew she was here. That was fine, as long as they presumed she was just another fan out for some fun with him, and didn’t realise they were a whole lot more committed than that.
‘Comfortable?’ she asked him.
Ash shook his head. His trousers were too tight, and the ache in his groin was too persistent. Things only got worse when she hit the stereo remote and filled the space with a raunchy, grinding beat. One sway of her hips, a flick of her hair, and he was done for. He wanted her in his arms, across his lap, their mouths locked and sexy bits touching. Nothing else mattered.
Damn, he was weak!
Whoa! She danced like a pro. No, better than a pro. The few lap dances he’d had before hadn’t made him want to rip the lady’s clothes off. When Ginny had mentioned she used to practise rhythmic gymnastics, and that she still liked to keep herself fit, he hadn’t appreciated how much dedication she’d obviously given her art. The sway of her hips worked like a snake charm, mesmerising him while simultaneously making