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Genre(s): M/F/M Ménage, Contemporary Erotic Romance, Rockers, Series
Word Count: 80k
Word Count: 80k
Heat Level: 5
Our choices are rarely cut and dry.
Sara: As the daughter of Senator and presidential hopeful Jentsen Holbrook, I spent a good deal of my life under public scrutiny. What I wore. Where I went. Who I dated. It was just the way of things. I’d become what was expected of me, until I ran from my obligations and woke up one morning in Cross de Raven’s and Eryk Hale’s world, two hot guitarists from the mega-famous metal band, Cinder. For the first time, freedom to be myself was within my reach. And along with that? Inevitable scandal.
Eryk: True beauty walked into my life, more beauty than I ever deserved. I partied hard. Rocked harder. I wasn’t good enough to touch Sara’s petal-soft skin, hold on tight, or love her, but regardless of my bad boy ways, no one was going to stop me from trying.
Cross: Sometimes, no matter how hard we fight for what we want, love won't save the day, and truth doesn't always set you free. Then again… Maybe, just maybe, when you find the one you’ve been searching for, love can find a way.
Dressed in my rumpled clothing from the night before, I perched on the edge of the bed I’d made while Cross and Eryk tugged on faded jeans and pec-hugging T-shirts.
“I imagine you and your entourage walking into a restaurant for breakfast causes quite the stir with the locals,” I said.
Cross’s dark chocolate eyes flashed, and the slightest hint of a smirk started to appear. “It can.”
“What if someone recognizes me?” I asked. Eryk scowled. “You guys have no idea the crap storm that will rain down on me and you if that reporter from the party last night retrieves any useable pictures from his broken camera. Not to mention, pictures as proof or not, he won’t keep his mouth shut.” I stared down at my hands on my lap. “It’s not only that I’m Senator Holbrook’s daughter that makes me interesting to the press.” I paused. Took a deep breath. “What I left behind in D.C. makes things very complicated for me. And, I don’t want you or your band used as cannon fodder.”
“What did you leave in D.C.?” Eryk asked.
“A father who’d just announced his bid to run for the presidency, and an unanswered, very public marriage proposal.”
“F-u-c-k,” Cross moaned, more than said.
“Do you love the guy?” Eryk asked.
I looked up. “No.”
As though he needed nothing more in the way of explanation, Eryk glanced over at Cross. “No gossip for the rags. We need to protect her.”
“You guys head on over to the restaurant for breakfast,” I said, “and once the excitement of your arrival dies down, I’ll sneak away.” I motioned with my thumb toward the tinted window and hotel sign beyond, which told me we were in Medford, Oregon. “I can hang there. Call Briar. She’ll come get me.”
“We don’t want you to leave,” Cross said, the naked honesty in his eyes pricking my heart.
Eryk nodded. “We want you to stay.”
“Just give us until our next tour stop.”
My gaze flickered between pale eyes and dark.
“Please,” Cross said, softly.
I didn’t want to go, but the reality of my situation—what I wanted, what I shouldn’t want—flooded me with guilt and shame.
I chewed on the corner of my mouth. Maybe I could stay with them, for a little while. I’d just be careful. Somehow.
“All right.” The whisper freed my chest of the constriction I hadn’t been aware of.
“Are we going to go fucking eat or what?” Fade yelled his question from the hall.
Eryk continued to stare down at me, although his brow had smoothed. “Cross,” he said, not turning his attention away from my face, “go with the guys, then bring something back for us.” He swiped a fingertip along my cheek, setting me on fire. “What do you like to eat?”
“Anything, really.” I glanced at Cross. “Surprise me.”
Bright white teeth appeared from beneath fantastic lips. God, the things that man’s smile did to my belly. “I’ll do that.”
The men in the hallway roughhoused and chuckled—more than one lewd comment heating my face. Again. I glanced down at my wrinkled blouse that was missing a couple more of its buttons.
“You’re going to need some clothes, too,” Cross said. “And—all that womanly shit.”
My head lifted and I laughed. “Womanly shit?”
“Makeup, hair stuff—” He waved his hand in front of my body. “I don’t know. Whatever else girls need.”
My heart melted a little.
“What sizes do you wear?” Eryk asked as he walked around the bed and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the bed stand.
With a teasing smile I said, “Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask what size a woman is?”
A grin formed on his face. Of the two, Eryk was the more serious, so seeing him transform from brooding to light seemed a gift.
“Write a list of whatever you need to get you by for a couple of days at least,” he said.
“I’ll have one of the roadies get everything during breakfast,” Cross added. “Can’t have anyone from the band buying little pink panties, now can we? People might think we’re harboring runaway females inside our bus.” He winked.
“Maybe we’re into cross-dressing on our downtime!” a voice—Sayer’s, I thought—hollered from behind the half-closed door.
“Roadies?” I asked, taking the pen and paper.
“Staff,” Eryk explained.
“Oh. Like my father’s aides.”
Cross chuckled, his eyes twinkling.
Fade yelled, “I doubt Washington aides have ever gone on beer runs, or shopped for lube, dildos, or condoms!” My mouth dropped open. “Well, maybe they have.”
“Ignore him,” Eryk said.
“Seriously, people, can we wrap things up?” Fade grumbled. “Some of us are starving.”
“No one asked you to wait for us!” Eryk bellowed. “So go.”
Kris popped his head into the bedroom. “And miss all the goings on in here?” He shook his head. “Nah.”
My gaze winged from Eryk to Cross. “You guys have no privacy on this bus, do you?”
Eryk shook his head. “Nope.”
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