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“Yes, but…”
He gave her a concerned look. “What?”
“I mean, where do I go? I’ve never been on a tour bus. Until I hear from Martin, I assume I should stay out of everyone’s way, right?”
“Right, so because this bus has two master suites, it’s only got a small kitchen area. Once you get past it, you’ll see two closed doors, one on either side of the hallway. At the very back is a lounge. Leave that to the guys. Up the stairs, you’ll find six bunks. One of them’s mine, but I’m off the bus any chance I get. Choose any of the others—they’re all clean. No one’s slept in them.” He looked away. “Might want to stay there till morning.”
“Very cryptic, but I think you’re giving me a hot tip, so I’m going with it.”
“Good idea.”
Her arms ached from carrying her purse, her snacks, and lugging the suitcase, but she had to know something. “What kind of band only has two band members?”
“Oh, no, it’s not like that. We’ve got eight tour buses, but this one’s for the talent. The other guys went ahead to the venue in Salt Lake City while I took care of a few repairs.”
“Must’ve been quite a party.”
He pressed the accelerator and turned right onto the highway. Conversation over.
She hitched her bag onto her shoulder and rolled her carry-on down the hallway. A little hum of anticipation ignited in her belly. Eight tour buses meant a hugely famous band—but which one? The suspense was killing her.
As she reached the lounge, her gaze immediately fell on the tall, broad-shouldered rock star who slouched on one of the black leather couches.
Shock detonated in her chest, sending adrenaline racing through her bloodstream.
Two women knelt at his feet. One of them reached both arms up, her hands splayed on his bare chest, while the other held his very large, erect cock in her hands. Their pink tongues licked and slavered all over it.
Holy shit…it’s him.
It’s Van Claybourne.
