Lindsey could smell Vanessa’s excitement now and eventually had to admit it was enticing. Her mouth watered. She wanted to taste it. She did. But she’d never done anything like this before. She was afraid of where her own desire might take her.
Vanessa placed a gentle hand on the back of her head. “It’s okay, Lindsey,” she whispered, stroking her hair tenderly while Shade continued to pound into her.
“Are you sure, Nessi?” she asked.
“I’m sure, baby.”
Lindsey lowered her head and drew her tongue oh-so-slowly over Vanessa’s quivering clit. Vanessa collapsed back onto the bed with a startled outrush of breath. Lindsey licked Vanessa’s inner folds, using the orgasmic, teasing technique Kellen had used on her earlier that night. Vanessa’s cum was sweet and tangy and Lindsey couldn’t get enough of it. She licked Vanessa’s opening until her tongue got tired and then she sucked her clit until her friend came. Lindsey was scarcely aware of Shade thrusting deep one last time or his shouting and shuddering as he took his release. When he let go of her thighs and pulled out, she shifted her arm between Vanessa’s legs so she could slide two fingers into Vanessa’s sweet, silky pu**y. Lindsey loved making her friend moan and writhe in ecstasy. When Vanessa found another orgasm minutes later, Lindsey gasped at the sensation of Vanessa’s flesh clenching in hard spasms around her exploring fingers. When her friend had settled, Lindsey kissed Vanessa’s shaven mound affectionately and slid her fingers free.
She lifted her head to find that Shade had left the room while she’d been otherwise occupied eating out her best friend. What. The. Fuck?
Vanessa grabbed Lindsey and drew her against her in a warm embrace. “Damn, girl, where did you learn to do that with your tongue?”
“Um.” Lindsey flushed. “Kellen Jamison?”
Vanessa laughed. “That man just landed himself at number one on my f**k-it list.”
Lindsey lifted her head to look down into the familiar face of her best friend. She loved this woman, she did, but she didn’t ever want to eat her pu**y again. “Nessi?”
“Yeah, sugar.”
“Does this mean I’m g*y?”
“Naw, baby. We was just caught up in the moment and got a little bicurious.”
“Okay,” she said and laid her head on Vanessa’s shoulder.
“I don’t know what it is about rock stars that makes us act all crazy.”
Lindsey knew. “They’re walking aphrodisiacs.”
Vanessa chuckled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You said it, girlfriend. You said it.”
Lindsey’s mind soon wandered to the remaining two rock stars in on the tour bus.
“Hmm, I wonder if Gabe and Adam are cold and lonely.”
“We could go check,” Vanessa said.
Chapter Twelve
Owen hopped out of his bunk and winced when his barefoot landed on a used condom. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his, but who the hell knew after the orgy that had gone down the night before.
He peeled the sticky prophylactic off the bottom of his foot and tossed it into the garbage can under the sink. He was always the first to wake up, but this morning, it was important, because Santa had been too busy screwing the night before to dig his presents out of their hiding place.
Owen stepped over Tex, who was sprawled in the aisle wearing nothing but his cowboy boots, and for some inexplicable reason, his belt and prized rodeo buckle. Owen’s toe connected with an empty whiskey bottle and it rolled across the floor to get lost under the dining room table, which had been used for a different kind of feast the night before. It had been fun while it lasted, but now his tongue would never work properly again and his lower back and hips were calling his insatiable c**k every sort of a son-of-a-bitch.
Or maybe he’d dreamt it all. His band members were all stark naked and passed out in various uncomfortable positions around the cabin, but there wasn’t a woman in sight.
He found the pair of female friends curled up together on the bed in the back of the bus. When the generous ladies had come out of the bedroom the night before, the only one who hadn’t taken a turn at one or the other of them—or both of them in Owen’s case—had been Kelly. He was still saving his love for a dead girl. Owen hoped his gift helped him get over her a little. If for no other reason, Kelly seriously needed to find something better than Owen’s had to get him off.
Owen donned a pair of discarded jeans he found on the bedroom floor—which turned out not to be his because they were several sizes too big—and his Santa hat. He flopped down on the floor, rolled onto his back, and shimmied his shoulders under the bed. He tugged out the velvet sack he’d stuffed way back under the headboard a few nights before.
A foot stomped right in the middle of his stomach.
“Umph!”
“Oh my God,” Lindsey said as she pulled her foot back. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“You don’t need a spleen to live,” he said breathlessly and after some scooting around, rose into sitting position.
“Did we really have a sex orgy last night?” she whispered, her innocent-looking blue eyes wide in disbelief.
“Nope. What happens on the Sole Regret tour bus, stays on the Sole Regret tour bus.” He winked at her and rose to his feet.
Owen slung his sack of presents over one shoulder and grinned at Lindsey. “Santa already gave you your present last night. You are now permanently on his naughty list.”
She flushed and lowered her eyes to her clenched hands.
He leaned over and kissed her temple. “I meant what I said about every sinfully delicious thing that happens on this bus, doesn’t leave it.”
“Okay,” she said breathlessly, but didn’t look at him.
She really was a doll. He might have considered calling her if she hadn’t slept with every last one of his band mates. Oh, and his bus driver.
“You had fun, right?” Owen asked.
She nodded earnestly and then her eyes rolled up in her head as whatever erotic memories were teasing her thoughts.
“Then don’t let it bother you.”
He tripped over what had to be Gabe’s overlong pant legs as he left her to mull over her misdeeds. He should probably find his own jeans, before he started waking people. He found them in the shower and had no idea how they’d gotten there. He took the time to use the john before changing into his own pants.
“Merry Christmas,” he bellowed from the end of the corridor.