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more metal than blues. The entire reason he’d given up and switched to metal was because every genre he attempted sounded metal under his fingers. “I was never very good at it, though.”

“He even tried country for a while,” Owen said.

“Well, I am from Texas,” Adam reminded him, playing a country riff that also sounded very metal. He laughed at his lack of skill. “Apparently from the metal part of Texas.”

The crowd really got behind this idea, cheering for their preferred genre of music.

“Cuff’s better at country than I am,” Adam teased Kellen, who promptly played the intro to a well-known banjo tune.

Adam mimicked the notes and, as expected, the backwoods banjo music sounded like incredibly distorted, loud and heavy guitar when he played it. “I’m sorry,” Adam said with a grin. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to play anything but metal.”

The audience cheered, not minding his lack of range.

“Then you’ve come to the right stage,” Jacob said, and he lifted his hand to signal Gabe to start the opening drum progression of the next song.

Adam entered the song with a rapid string of notes, carrying the final in the series with a loud wail. Jacob caught on to Adam’s enthusiasm, hamming it up for the crowd with even more gusto than usual. Kellen seemed more concerned with playing every note perfectly—probably because he was trying to impress his composer guest—but it was Owen who was behaving completely out of character. Usually the life of the party, he kept to the back of the stage and played his bass lines with an air of glumness. It wasn’t as if bass riffs were ever particularly cheerful, but if Owen kept playing them like that, they’d all be suicidal by the end of the evening.

Adam snuck up behind him and did his best impression of twerking to rub the strings of his guitar against Owen’s wireless receiver and produce a hideous cacophony. From the front, Adam was sure it looked like he was dry humping his bassist’s ass, but it was worth the hilarity that ensued as Owen stumbled forward several steps in absolute shock and then burst out laughing when he saw who was assaulting him.

“Are you high?” he asked, and then his face fell when he seemed to think he’d discovered the truth.

“On life!” Adam shouted and climbed up on the platform supporting Gabe’s drum kit so he could clang a symbol with his guitar stock.

“I don’t know what’s in the water down here,” Jacob said at the end of the song, “but it apparently makes Adam feel real good.”

Adam pointed at Madison, who was gaping at him from her position at the side of the stage, and then hopped off the drum platform to join Jacob.

“I do feel good,” Adam said. “How do you all feel tonight?” he asked the audience.

They cheered enthusiastically.

“Well, I for one,” Jacob said, “am feeling a little twisted.”

Which was Adam’s cue to start the intro to one of their most popular songs. He briefly wondered if he’d ever write anything as good as “Twisted” in the future or if he’d peaked early and his career was all downhill from here. He shoved the thought aside as he gave his all to the fret board. He’d worry about the future later. Or never. Never sounded like a better plan.

When the stadium lights went up after the encore, Adam tossed his guitar to a waiting roadie and headed directly for Madison. After stealing a lingering kiss, he scooped her off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder, one hand under her skirt and resting securely on her bare thigh. He spun on his heel and trotted down the steps.

“You’re crazy!” she accused with a laugh as he carried her down a corridor toward the exit.

“Oh no, gust of wind,” he said, flipping her skirt up. Not high enough for anyone to see she wasn’t wearing panties, but still she slapped a hand over her butt, laughing and squirming on his shoulder.

“Stop it! Have you lost your mind?” she asked.

Quite possibly. He had an entire weekend free to enjoy Madison’s company, and he wasn’t going to allow stupid crap like responsibility and worry and reality put a damper on his enthusiasm.

As the rest of the band were heading out of town for the weekend, Adam was doubly glad he’d rented the motorcycle for personal use. That way he didn’t have to wait for the rest of the guys to get their shit together. He was more than eager to get Madison back to the hotel and spend time together. He had plenty of teasing in store, but he also just liked to be around her. She made him happy to be alive. He couldn’t say that about any other person on the planet.

He dropped her off at the bottom of the tour bus steps. “Put your leather back on,” he murmured into her ear. Just thinking about her in those tight leather pants had him all hot and bothered and the effect had little to do with the sultry night air.

“I think—”

“Unless you’d rather wait half an hour for a cab.” He didn’t want her to argue. And he wasn’t going to allow her to ride on a motorcycle in a skirt. He’d seen what the road could do to bare flesh, and he refused to risk damaging her perfect skin—no matter how unlikely they were to meet the pavement in the few miles between the venue and their hotel.

“I wasn’t refusing,” she said. “I was going to say I think I’ll need your help.”

She took his hand and led him up the bus steps.

“You seemed to be having fun on stage tonight,” she said as she walked backward toward the empty bedroom, her eyes never leaving his.

“I was,” he said. “You put me in a good mood.”

“I do?”

He nodded. “I usually try to hide the way you make me feel from the guys, but—” He shrugged. “I’m to the point where I don’t care what they think about us.” After all, the next time they saw her, he planned to have put a huge fucking diamond on her finger, and then they’d know for sure that he was pretty serious about Madison.

“Are you ready to put me in a good mood?” she asked, the suggestiveness in her tone making his cock twitch with interest.

“You aren’t already?”

“I’m feeling pretty good, but I could be feeling a whole lot better.”

He kicked the bedroom door closed behind him, bathing them in darkness. Her hand pushing down on his shoulder was the only cue he needed. He dropped to his knees before her and pushed her skirt up. He found her swollen mound by feel, working her heated flesh with his mouth.

“Oh, Adam,” she moaned. “I need you so bad.”

He grinned to himself, pressing his tongue into her cleft. If she thought she needed him now, he couldn’t even guess how much she’d need him by the next night. He unfastened her skirt as she clung to his hair with both hands and ground her pussy into his face.

If he could kick his drug habit with the might of his willpower, teasing this woman incessantly while not giving in to his own needs should be as easy as strumming an A chord.

Yeah, right.

He tipped her back onto the bed and pulled her boots off. He had planned to dress her in her leather pants immediately, but he had to have a little taste of her first. She was already so worked up that he’d have to take great care to not let her come. Madison opened her legs wide as he settled his knees on the floor at the end of the bed. When he gripped her ass in both hands and pulled her pussy to his mouth, she cried out and her back arched off the mattress.

He twirled his tongue in her opening, collecting the musky taste of her sex in his mouth. His cock pulsed with excitement at the promise of being enveloped in her slick heat.

He pulled away and took a deep breath. Fuck, how was he supposed to keep her teetering on the edge if he wanted to fly beyond it with so little prompting? Her heel dug into his back and pulled him into her. He groaned, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks as he found her clit with his mouth and flicked it with his tongue until she was writhing with pleasure.

He pulled away again, panting hard through his nose as he tried to regain his will to refrain from what he really wanted to do—fuck her as hard as she liked it.

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“Adam,” she moaned as she sat up to grab the back of his head. When he resisted her pull, she released her grip on him and reached between her thighs, rubbing her clit with rapid strokes that would quickly give her the release she craved. He captured her wrists and trapped her hands on either side of her hips.

“If you come tonight, I’m not taking you to the sex club tomorrow,” he said.


Tags: Olivia Cunning One Night with Sole Regret Erotic