Author: Olivia Cunning

“What I wouldn’t give for a time machine,” Reagan said.

Brian smirked and shook his head. “Go on. Have fun. I’ll sit here and mope a while longer.”

Reagan unfastened Trey’s seat belt and climbed to her feet. She leaned over him and spoke into his ear, not quietly enough to exclude Brian, so Trey could only conclude that she was trying to tease Brian out of his funk. “I’ll go into the bathroom. You come join me in a couple of minutes so no one will suspect anything.”

“Yeah, okay. Good plan,” he said with a chuckle.

He watched her walk down the wide aisle and close herself in the bathroom.

“She’s cute,” Brian said. “Kind of a tomboy, but I can see why you like her.”

“Does it bother you?” Trey asked.

“Does what bother me?”

“That I have a steady girlfriend.”

“It’s a little sudden, but of course it doesn’t bother me. I’m happy for you. I hope it works out. You deserve the love of a good woman.”

Trey wasn’t sure why that made him a little sad. He wanted Brian to like Reagan. He also wanted Brian to be insanely jealous and tell him he wasn’t allowed to love anyone but him. He knew it was fucked up to still feel that way, but at least he no longer wanted to feel that way. That was progress, wasn’t it?

“I’ll try not to make her scream too loud.”

Brian chuckled. “Fuck her brains out. You know I wouldn’t consider your misery if our positions were reversed.”

Positions reversed? Trey pictured himself dragging Brian into the bathroom. Shoving him against the wall. Taking everything he wanted from him. Trey bit his lip and rose from his seat, hoping Brian didn’t notice how hard he was all of a sudden. Of course, Brian would probably think he was hard for Reagan, not him. Trey’s desire was as fucked up as his feelings were. He had a lot of work to do.

He retrieved a strip of condoms from a box in the paper sack he’d brought onboard and headed for the bathroom. He knocked and then opened the door. Entirely naked, Reagan reached into the corridor and jerked him into the small bathroom before securing the door behind him. The lavatory was a bit larger than a standard airplane bathroom, but not by much. Trey pressed her against the wall behind the door and claimed her mouth with a deep, seeking kiss. He needed that senseless, disconnected release he was accustomed to. He didn’t give her time to draw him out of his shell this time. He squeezed her breasts and then released his belt and the fly of his jeans. He tore his mouth away from hers long enough tear a condom open with his teeth.

“Trey?” she gasped in question.

He silenced her with another kiss. He just wanted to come. He didn’t want to talk. And he didn’t want to think about Brian. Or even Reagan. He just needed a body to lose himself in for twenty minutes. Was that so wrong?

He pushed her up the wall and struggled to hold her there with one hand while he used his other to guide his cock into her receptive body. Once inside her, he shuddered with delight and shifted both arms to hold her securely while he thrust up into her. Things were going exactly as he’d envisioned until she began to touch him with a tenderness he didn’t deserve. He tore his mouth from hers. “We need to hurry,” he lied to explain his need for impersonal urgency.

“Look at me, Trey,” she said.

He buried his face in her neck. “I need to concentrate.”

She grabbed two handfuls of hair and jerked his head back. “Look at me,” she demanded.

He opened his eyes and then his mouth to tell her she didn’t have a right to treat him so harshly, but before the words even formed he got lost in her loving gaze.

“There you are, lover,” she murmured. “That’s what I want.”

They stared at each other as their bodies moved together with an increasing tempo. Reagan’s cries of ecstasy started as a soft coo and soon escalated to screams of enthusiasm. Trey got caught up her vocalizations and started answering them with shouts of his own.

“Come with me,” she chanted. “Come with me. Come with me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he answered.

Her hips buckled and her fingers dug into his scalp as she cried out in ecstasy. He pumped into her vigorously and let go. He forced himself not to close his eyes as his body claimed release and was rewarded with the look of pure bliss that settled over her lovely face. “Oh God, Trey, I’m coming so hard.” He almost dropped her when her entire body went taut.

“That’s it, baby. Get off.”

If he hadn’t already come, the sounds she made as she found release would have sent him over the edge. After a long intense moment, she sagged back against the wall, wrapping her arms around his body to draw him against her. “Fuck,” she gasped in his ear. “That was amazing.”

He murmured something against her throat in agreement, so glad she’d made him look at her and hadn’t allowed him to treat her like a meaningless sex partner.

Trey released her begrudgingly, and she did her best to clean up in the tiny sink while he looked for the best place to dispose of his condom.

“Trey?”

He glanced up to look at her.

“Is there something more between you and Brian than friendship?”

Trey hoped she took his shock for denial instead of acceptance. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Just a few things you’ve said. And the way you look at him.”

“What way is that?”

“Like you love him.”

“I do,” he said. “I love all the members of my band. They’re like my family.”

While she pulled her T-shirt over her head, he turned to face the wall and mouthed, Shit, shit, shit repeatedly. How had she picked up on that so easily? And if he was that transparent, how come Brian never recognized it?

“Do you think he heard us?” She bumped into him as she struggled to put on her panties.

“I don’t know if he heard me, but I’m sure he heard you. You were screaming like a horror picture bimbo.”

She slapped him on the arm. “Was not.”

“How about I ask him?”

“Don’t,” she pleaded. She grabbed his arm and spun him to face her. “I didn’t mean to get that loud. You got me carried away. I forgot where I was.”

Three points for the Trey-ster.

He waited for her to squirm into her pants before he opened the door. He took the seat across from Brian, stretched his legs out in front of himself, and crossed them at the ankles. He folded his arms behind his head and sighed in contentment. Brian, who had been staring out the window, turned his head to look at him.

“Done already?” Brian asked.

“Had to hurry. We’ll be landing soon.”

Brian shook his head. “I couldn’t tell if you were killing her or screwing her. There isn’t a dead body in the bathroom, is there?”

Before Trey could assure Brian that he hadn’t murdered Reagan, she exited the bathroom and sat on the far end of the sofa. Her face was beet red.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Brian told her. “But if you scream like that on the tour bus, Eric will tease you and Sed will cuss you out for making him horny. You might want to borrow a gag from Jace.”

“I thought you didn’t hear anything,” Reagan said.

“I didn’t. Just sayin’.”

Reagan grinned at Brian. “Can I get my guitar out now? I brought one acoustic with me.”

Trey wasn’t sure how the woman could think about working. He wanted to take a nap.

Brian perked up, his gloomy expression replaced with one of interest. “Yeah. Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Reagan found the thickest of her guitar cases and opened it to reveal a black lacquered acoustic guitar. “This baby sings,” Reagan said, strumming the strings lightly. “Max did a great job breaking her in.”

She carried the guitar over to the sofa and sat with the instrument on one thigh.

“Good. You’re right-handed,” Brian said, leaving his seat to sit beside her. “Not a lefty like Trey. He does everything ass-backwards.”

“I think that’s part of the reason why you two complement each other so well,” Reagan said, smiling first at Trey then Brian.

“Takes him twice as long to learn a riff.”

“You’re just a freak of nature,” Trey told Brian.

“So I’ve watched all sorts of videos of you playing solos, but they never really catch your finger movements in the upper register. I sort of made up my own technique, but the notes never sound as crisp as yours. They all run together at that speed.”

“Show me,” Brian said.

Reagan played the triplet repeats of the solo to their newest single, “Betrayed.” She had to strum incredibly fast, because an acoustic sounded nothing like an electric guitar and wasn’t ideal for soloing. Brian watched the fingers of her left hand as they moved over the fret board.

“Don’t squeeze,” he said. “Tap.” He tapped the tops of her fingernails. “Short taps.”

She followed his instruction but still didn’t get the same quality of note that Brian got. He extended a hand. “Here, I’ll show you.”

She handed him the guitar and watched his fingers in rapt attention as he played the solo several times in a row. He didn’t bother strumming more than he would his electric guitar, so it didn’t sound much like a solo as most of the notes were almost silent with no pickups to amplify them. “I’ll show you on an electric tonight,” he said.

“I see what you’re doing.” She took his hand in hers and flipped it over to inspect his fingertips and then her own. “I need to work on some new callouses. Yours are more off-center than mine. I’m not hitting the strings in the same spot.”

“Instead of trying to copy me, maybe you should work on your own sound.”

She grinned at him. “But I like yours. Wish I would have come up with it first.”

“Why don’t you play some of the stuff you wrote?” Trey suggested. He still remembered the mesmeric riff she’d been playing in Dare’s studio when he’d taken her up on her challenge to duel. He’d watched her for several minutes before he found the sense to interrupt.

She flushed. “I’ll just embarrass myself.”

Most guitarists started out copying the guitarists they admired, and that would serve her fine as she took over for Max, but when she pushed to the next level in her career, she’d need to find her own sound. And be confident that she owned it.

Brian patted her knee. “You’ve got the talent. You’ll get there.” He climbed to his feet and found his seat. He reclined it. “I’m going to catch a little nap. Didn’t get much sleep at the hospital last night. I’d appreciate it if you two would keep the orgasmic screaming to a minimum.”

Trey stood and reached into an overhead bin. He pulled out a pillow and blanket and tossed them at Brian, hitting him dead in the face. If Reagan hadn’t already expressed her suspicions about Trey’s feelings for Brian, Trey would have chosen a less violent delivery, but he had to be careful not to show her how much he cared about him.

“Thanks,” Brian said sarcastically and stuffed the pillow under his head. He spread the blanket over his body and clutched it to his chest.

Trey turned the lights in the cabin down and winked at Reagan, who was sitting with her guitar still on her lap and watching him a bit too closely. Trey sat beside her on the sofa and took the guitar from her. He set it carefully on the floor and drew her into his arms. “We never got to cuddle after our initiation into the mile high club,” he murmured near her ear.

She shifted onto his lap and wrapped both arms around his neck. He mostly just held her for the next hour and stroked her skin tenderly. They exchanged a few sweet kisses, but Trey was far too preoccupied with Brian’s situation to intensify the passion between himself and Reagan. Brian wasn’t happy and if Brian wasn’t happy, none of the band was happy. Even though Sed led the band and they all looked to him to fix any logistical problems, Brian was their keystone, and without his talent, they had nothing to center themselves around. They all depended on him to be their creative focus. Trey was pretty sure Brian could stick it out for the next two weeks, but what of the next year? They’d just put out a new album they needed to promote. They were co-headlining with Exodus End all across North America, then Europe and Australia. Asia. South America. Brian might be able to fly back to see Myrna and Malcolm when he was within a few hours flight time, but from the other side of the globe? There was no way.