Hillbilly Rockstar (31 page)

“What's wrong?”

“Check didn't get my guitar from the bus, so someone stole it.”

“What was it worth?”

“Ten grand.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “And no, I don't want to call the cops, since it could've disappeared anywhere between Houston and Portland.”

Unlikely. Her cell phone rang, and she turned away to answer it. “This is Liberty Masterson. Now? That was fast. Sure. I'll be right there.” She hung up and motioned to the event security before she looked at Devin. “The team checking out the bus is here, and I have to sign off on a few things. These guys will get you to your ready room.”

“Whatever. See you after the concert at the meet and greet.”

“But . . . I thought . . .”

Annoyance pulsed from him. “What? It's two and a half hours until showtime. And since I didn't play a lick of music in the week we were together, I need to get in the right headspace. Especially after all of this shit.”

“That's fine.” She stayed in place until she saw him enter the ready room. Then she slipped out the side door.

Crash caught up to her. “You wanna tell me what the hell is goin' on?”

“Did you ask JT to rejoin the tour and let Reg go?”

“No. JT was here when I got here.”

“Where's Reg?”

“No idea.”

“Find him. I wasn't kidding about bringing Reg back. Tell him there was a misunderstanding with JT.”

Crash set his hands on her shoulders, stopping her. “I have to ask this, Liberty, and don't take offense, but is all this necessary? Or do you have it in for JT since he insulted you?”

“His insults to me are nothing compared with his dereliction of duty.” As Liberty brusquely informed him of what she'd dealt with, Crash's face turned redder and redder.

“That's it. You're done dealing with JT. I will go over safety protocols with him.”

“Thank you.”

“Devin's always had a soft spot for the guy. Don't know why.”

When they reached the buses, JT was squaring off with three guys who could break him like a twig. Crash stepped between them and dragged JT away. When they were out of sight, Liberty said, “You're Marco? I'm Liberty. Let's talk over here.” She led them around the side of the bus. “You have the paperwork?”

“Yes.” He handed her a piece of paper with the GSC letterhead and Garrett's signature. “There's a warehouse two miles from here. We'll tow it there and check it out. Prelim checks don't show explosives.”

She hadn't expected them to find any, but she'd take the same precaution if it were her operation. “Good. You'll keep in touch about what you do find?”

“Of course. You'll have our answer first thing in the morning about problems and any potential delays.”

“Thank you, Marco. I appreciate your quick action on this.”

“You're welcome.”

Back in the event center, JT approached her, Crash hovering behind him. “Look, Liberty, I think we started out on the wrong foot. I had no idea things had gotten so serious with what was goin' on with Devin.”

Really? After you were attacked in his bed on his bus, you didn't think it might be serious?

“And I, uh, love this job. This is my family—the band, the road crew. It about killed me not to be with them when I was recovering.” His hand tightened on his cane. “I acted like a jerk to you. I'm sorry. I guess after seein' all this, I know why Devin needs an assistant.”

“I appreciate the apology. Crash will keep you updated.” She headed
down the hall and parked herself outside Devin's ready room because she didn't have anywhere else to go.

The after-party was packed. Liberty lost track of Devin several times, but each time the room security signaled that they had eyes on him.

The concert was, as always, incredible. Time away from the stage seemed to have reenergized him and the band. So they were flying high. There seemed to be a lot of media, which was good and would sell tickets for tomorrow night's show.

But Liberty was too antsy to stand around. She had a shit ton of paperwork to do. At the rate the party was going, she wouldn't get started on it until two in the morning. There were eight security guards posted here tonight. She decided to let them watch over Devin: get him in the car and to the hotel.

She approached Crash.

“Hey, lady, what's up?”

“After all that happened today, I've got reports to finish and file by morning. Devin is well covered tonight, so I'm heading to the hotel.”

Crash frowned. “Is everything all right between you two? I haven't seen you together since this afternoon.”

“Fine, as far as I know. Been a crazy day, so if you're okay with it, I'll take off.”

“You gonna tell Devin?”

“He's busy. I'll see him later.”

As she waited back by the band and roadies' buses, she started getting impatient. Where the hell was the car service? She was about to call them and chew ass when a little voice popped into her head.

Entitled much?

She stopped pacing. Dammit. This wasn't her. She should remember that this life—car services, private jets, multiple residences, first-class hotels and gourmet food—would be a thing of the past in three weeks. All she had to do was complete the job. Then she could move up in GSC.

You'll have the bonus money, but you won't have Devin.

No matter how many times she told herself their constant togetherness was forcing these feelings, she knew that wasn't true.

The car pulled up and she climbed in. At the hotel, she handled her own luggage—better get used to that—and waited her turn for a guest agent.

“May I help you?”

“Checking in for Liberty Masterson. Big Sky Promotions.”

“Yes, Ms. Masterson. I see we've had a change in the reservation. Two rooms for one night.”

“Two rooms?”

“Yes. Oh, I see we were able to get adjoining rooms at Mr. McClain's request. Is that all right?”

“That's fine.” She declined help to her room. She tried really hard not to obsess about why Devin had asked for two rooms without telling her. She unlocked the dead bolt on her side and took a long shower.

Once she'd slipped on her pajamas, she spread everything out on her desk. She opened her laptop and filled out a more personal accounting for GSC and a report for Big Sky. She finished in just under two hours.

And Devin still hadn't shown up.

She stared out the window, unsure where the event center even was from here. She debated on cracking open a bottle of booze from the minibar. Everything was so fucked up. Keeping her fears and feelings locked up inside wasn't healthy. She needed to talk to someone. But who? Too late to call Harper. Bailey had gone off the grid. She scrolled through her contact list, tempted to dial Joe. Even if he'd crashed for the night, he'd be wide-awake if she called.

Between Joe's duties at GSC and her assignment, they'd spoken only a few times in the past three months. In addition to being coworkers, she and Joe were good friends. But this situation put her on a fine line between professional and personal. If she told Joe she'd fallen for Devin, as her friend, he might pull her from duty to save her additional heartache. And as her boss, he might worry she couldn't do her job because of her emotional ties and pull her from duty. So really, a phone call to Joe, lamenting her man woes, would end one way—with her leaving the tour. She'd made
it through the hardest part, and she wasn't walking away from that hundred grand now.

Nor was she leaving Devin's security in someone else's hands.

Liberty had almost fallen asleep when she heard the movement in the adjoining room. She watched the clock. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen.

At the twenty-minute mark, she knew he wasn't coming into her room.

Maybe this was the beginning of the end.

A strong hand traced her spine, stopping at the bottom curve of her ass.

Warm lips landed on her shoulder. “Mornin'.”

She rolled to her back, and immediately Devin's mouth was on hers, gifting her with a lazy kiss.

He murmured, “I missed you last night,” against her lips.

“I heard you come into the other room.”

“I tried to be quiet.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Crash said you had a lot of paperwork to do. So I let you be. Wondered if you'd gotten your own room because I'd pissed you off.”

She touched his face, sweeping her knuckles down his razor-stubbled jaw. “You didn't ask for two separate rooms for us?”

“Hell no.” Those vibrant blue eyes narrowed. “You didn't either?”

“No. But someone changed the reservation.”

“Why would someone do that?”

Why indeed? To cause dissension. She and Devin had words yesterday and he'd all but slammed his ready room door in her face. Then they'd stayed on separate sides of the meet and greet room last night. So it wasn't a stretch for those who knew them to assume they'd had a lovers' quarrel. But who had contacted the hotel pretending to be Devin and changed their sleeping arrangements?

“Did Crash mention it was his idea?”

“Not to me.”

It left her unsettled.

“Sweetheart, what's goin' on?”

“I don't know. First the bus thing; then you discover another one of your guitars was ripped off. Plus someone had tried to jimmy the lock on my gun drawer. Then someone was screwing with our sleeping arrangements. Anything odd happen at the party last night?”

Devin's gaze turned thoughtful. “Did you see the blonde with gigantic tits lurking around me?”

“Which blonde?” she said dryly.

He bent down and nipped the top of her boob. As soon as she yelped, he kissed the spot. “You deserved that. Anyway, she said she was a gift from one of my roadies.”

“Did she say which one?”

“No. She probably made it up. Then she offered to suck my cock like it'd never been sucked.”

Liberty slammed a lid on her jealousy. “There's a new line.”

“Not really. But it's better than the standard
I suck harder than a Hoover
.”

She growled at him. “How long did big tits stick around?”

“No idea. It happened ten minutes after you left. Why?”

“It bugs me. Not just because I fucking hate women drooling over your dick.”

“It's over. Can we forget about it?” Keeping his eyes on hers, Devin teased her lips with fleeting kisses. “So
you
can start drooling over my dick?”

She laughed. “Fine. Bring that bad boy up here and I'll give him a good-morning kiss.”

“Damn, woman, I love you.”

He'd said it in such an offhand manner and right before she stuffed his cock in her mouth that it didn't count. Right before she kissed the crown, she murmured, “I love you too.”

“T
his is Devin,” he answered distractedly.

“Hey, Devin. It's Chelsea Lynn from
Country Music Today
.”

He smiled. Although Chelsea was a reporter, she was unlike the others he'd dealt with over the years; she had integrity. They'd clicked on a deeper level at their first formal interview, when she'd broken down and told him how much his song “Won't Be a Tomorrow” had affected her after the death of her older brother. So in a moment of sharing, he'd told her about Michelle. Afterward he kicked himself, suspecting he'd been played and the rookie reporter would pen an angsty article about Devin's personal tragedy to scoop the competition and to prove herself. But she'd never broken his confidence and he trusted her—which said a lot.

“Great to hear from you. Did I forget I had an interview or something?”

“No. But when you get back to Nashville, I'd love to have lunch and talk about the Heroes and Heartbreakers tour.” She paused. “Rumor has it there have been some unsettling incidents. You've got a killer PR team if they're keeping it out of the press.”

“I learned my lesson with the China Marquette fiasco on how best to game the system. Don't quote me on that.”

She laughed. “I won't. And I'm asking this as your friend, not a nosy reporter looking for a story, but you're all right?”

“I'll admit it's been a trying tour. The logistics of it, not the fans or the venues.”

“I definitely want the details on that. But like I said, that's not why I called.”

A bad feeling started to take root. “Now you've got me concerned, Chels.”

“You should be, so I'll get right to it. I received an anonymous e-mail two days ago that offered me the real inside story on your tour. With pictures.”

“Pictures? Of what?”

“Of you and your new girlfriend. And the first picture attached to the e-mail was really provocative.”

Jesus. Liberty would blow a fucking gasket. “There's more than one picture?”

“Uh-huh. I played a bit of a cat-and-mouse game with this person. Acting like I didn't believe they had more to offer. I said we didn't pay for innuendo and hearsay.”

“And how'd that go over?”

“I received four more pictures. All of them in pretty intimate positions with you and this woman. They're not porn by any stretch, but the shots were taken by someone who has close access to you, Devin.”

He closed his eyes against the rage churning inside him. “What'd this person want?”

“A hundred thousand dollars. With more exclusive photos. Not only of you with her, but the inside story about how this woman has ruined the tour. She turned your bandmates against you; she made ridiculous demands at venues; she's keeping you from your fans and is manipulating the media. This person said your bus was shot up and broken into and your bus driver beaten—in three separate incidents. And she's put so much stress on Tay, your keyboard player, that she was rushed to the emergency room for stress-related seizures?”

“Are you fucking kiddin' me?” he shouted. “That's so far from the truth, it's . . .” He inhaled a deep breath. “Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. But this is just insane, mostly because there is a kernel of truth to some of it.”

“That's what I suspected. Because we're friends, I have to ask if this new woman you're involved with is some kind of Svengali?”

Wasn't it ironic that he'd kept most the important people in his life in
the dark about Liberty's true purpose on this tour and he was about to tell a tabloid reporter? “Chels, I gotta know we're one hundred percent off the record right now.”

“We are.”

“The woman in those photos is my bodyguard. I've had some fucked-up stuff happen to me over the last two years. The tour promotion company insisted I have protection twenty-four hours a day. She's former military, and our cover story is she's my personal assistant. But if her picture gets out, with all the ‘who is this mysterious woman' bullshit, it might ruin her career. I won't let that happen. The woman has saved my ass a couple of times.”

Chelsea was quiet for a moment. “So who do you think is doing this? Any jealous ex-girlfriends on tour with you?”

“Jealous ex? No. Odette is my ex, but she's got no beef with me.” She did have opportunity, but Devin refused to consider that. Odette was his songwriting partner. He trusted her.

“What about your tour manager? No offense, but he's a little gruff and kinda shifty.”

“Only because he doesn't want me talkin' to reporters. So Crash would be last on my list of suspects. Besides, he's the only one on tour with me who knows she's really my bodyguard.”

“Oh. From the e-mail, this person isn't aware of that. Doesn't sound like that narrows the list of suspects very much.”

“No. But I will figure out who is involved.” Devin couldn't come up with a delicate way to word his question, so he just asked it straight out. “I have to ask what you're doin' with all of this?”

“Nothing. I'd never run this story, Devin. And not because it wouldn't sell magazines, because it would. It's just . . . I owe you. You gave me the time of day when no one else would during my cub reporter days. You've proven yourself to be a good guy time and time again. You don't deserve this kind of press. That said . . .”

Devin knew his laugh had a bitter edge. “When this is all said and done, you want a story or an exclusive interview, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine. But I need to ask you a favor. If you haven't offered to pay this person, is there any way you can stall? Make 'em think you're getting approval for funds and editorial and all that? My gut feeling is this person doesn't know how tabloid journalism works.”

“No problem. I already laid the groundwork for that so I could contact you.”

“Good. What I don't want to have happen is this person takes it to your competitor and then it's out of my control. If you hint that the payday could be even bigger if they get more proof, I'm hopin' I can catch whoever is doin' this in the act.”

“I'll pass that along too. I haven't responded after the second batch of photos. I'm assuming you'll make your bodyguard aware of this situation?”

Hell no. Liberty was already on double alert because of all the shit that'd gone down. He'd handle this one on his own. Maybe bring Crash in on it—if his manager promised not to go running straight to Liberty with the information.

“I'm sure it's no surprise the pictures were taken with a cell phone. Where do you want me to e-mail what I've got?”

Devin had one private e-mail account that wasn't associated with any of his social media. Since he rarely used it, he had to look it up on his phone. He rattled it off and then ended the call.

He flopped back onto the bed and closed his eyes. Getting more pissed off wouldn't be productive. There were ten days left on the tour. Maybe this person would be careless since the opportunity to cash in was nearing the end. He tried to look at the situation logically, not emotionally. But Christ. Who worked for him that he'd pissed off to the point they'd look for such extreme payback?

Two knocks sounded on the door and he said, “Come in.”

Liberty came in and locked the door. The mattress moved and then she curled into him. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. What's up?”

“You've been in here an hour longer than you usually are. I came to see if everything was all right.”

“Just resting my eyes and wishing I could take you to my favorite Italian joint in this town. Great atmosphere. Best pizza outside of New York City.”

“Sounds like fun. The only good part about us not going is no extra calories for us to work off tomorrow morning.”

Devin rolled on top of her. “How about we work off some preshow calories now?” He nuzzled her neck. Her scent filled his lungs and blood filled his cock. “Unbutton your blouse, baby. I wanna suck on you.”

“You know the drill. If my chest is bare, yours is too.”

Pushing to his knees, he ditched his shirt. Then he thought,
What the hell?
and got completely naked.

Liberty's upper half was bare. Bare and beautiful.

He dragged a fingertip between her breasts, over her navel, stopping at the waistband of her pants. “You still have your period?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Will it bother you if we mess around?”

“No, just as long as you don't shove your hand down my pants.” She reached for his cock and smirked. “Why don't you let me take care of that for you. You want my hand or my mouth?”

Devin crawled up her body and kissed her. The second their lips touched, his hunger for her was all consuming.

As she arched into him, her hand worked his cock exactly the way he liked it.

He broke the kiss and followed her jawline to her ear. “I don't want your hands or your mouth.” He traced her earlobe with his tongue and tugged with his teeth. “I want to fuck your tits.”

“I wondered when you'd get around to that, self-admitted tit-loving man that you are.”

God, he loved her. She was always up for anything. Even after almost four months together, he found it a total fucking turn-on to be with a woman who embraced her sexuality without apology.

Devin scooted down, dislodging her hand from his cock. “What about
me usin' your vibrator on you? Buzzing that sweet little clit right through your pants?”

“You don't have to—”

“I want to.” He nuzzled the top of her left breast. “I love getting you off. So where's your vibrator?”

“In the drawer where I left it last time we used it. Next to the lube.”

“That'll come in handy.” After he found what he needed, he said, “Touch yourself. Get your nipples nice and hard.”

Liberty trailed her fingers up her belly and over her slim torso. She pushed the globes of flesh together. Squeezing and caressing as she worked her fingers ever closer to her nipples.

Devin stroked his cock as he watched her.

She rubbed the tips with the palms of her hands before sweeping her thumbs around the aureolae until her nipples constricted. Then she pinched the rigid points with such force that she cried out.

He was right there, enclosing the abused tip in the wet, suctioning heat of his mouth. He sucked until she writhed. Then he kissed her other breast, teasing it with soft caresses. Scraping his stubbled chin across the wetness he created. Using his hands and his mouth to nip and soothe. Burying his face in her softness like he planned to bury his cock.

“Devin.”

“Say my name like that again,” he demanded as he palmed the battery-operated wand.

“Devin, baby.”

“I love that husky sex-voice of yours.” He turned the vibrator on and set it at the top of her pubic bone, while he kept his mouth moving between her nipples.

“Slide it down,” she panted.

“Here?”

“No. More to the . . .”

Taking her hand, he curled it around the vibrator. “You do it and I'll watch.”

Liberty pushed the flared tip of the vibrator right where she wanted it and held it there.

He fisted his cock, keeping a tight grip as he stroked. Knowing by the soft sounds she made that her orgasm was close.

“Yes.” She canted her hips up and arched her neck, beautiful in her abandonment. Half a minute later, she sank into the mattress and opened her eyes. “That never takes long.”

“Still fun to watch.”

She tossed the vibrator aside and licked her lips. “I want you in my mouth before you fuck these.” She pushed her tits together.

Devin straddled her, tucking his knees beside her ribs. Holding on to the headboard, he lowered his hips until they were level with her face. He painted her lips with the fat cockhead, knowing she wouldn't taste him until he gave her the go-ahead. Her rapid exhalations on the wet tip were such sweet torture. He ran his knuckles down the side of her face and murmured, “Lick me.”

She swirled her tongue around and around the rim. Stopping to rub the sweet spot beneath the head with the stiffened tip of her tongue.

“Open these pretty lips and relax your jaw.” He eased in a little at a time, his breath hissing out as the wet heat of her mouth engulfed almost every inch of his shaft. He pushed in the last two inches until he felt her teeth digging into the base of his cock. Stroking the hollows of her cheeks, he gritted out, “Swallow.”

Her throat muscles shifted, giving the head of his cock an intimate kiss.

“Jesus, that's good. One more time.” After her throat muscles contracted again, he withdrew slowly, enjoying every second of the extra suction as he pulled out. His grip tightened on the headboard and he rested the rim of his cock on her lower lip. He watched those beautiful pale eyes, glittering with lust, as she opened her mouth for him again. “So tempting just to fuck this greedy mouth and forget those luscious tits.” Then he was balls deep in her mouth and he groaned. “Especially when it feels like this. Swallow. Harder. Fuck. Yes. Like that.”

Liberty hummed, and the vibration traveled straight up his dick and electrified his balls.

“Jesus, woman. That's like . . .”

Hard for her to smile with her face stuffed full of cock, but she managed. And she hummed again.

Devin groaned. “You're killin' me.” He held her jaw as he withdrew. Then he reached for the lube, squirting a thick line between her breasts and another on the top side of his cock. Watching her eyes, he pressed the soft flesh together. “Too much?”

“No. You can go more.”

His palms pushed the abundant softness with more force, creating a smaller, tighter space. He canted his pelvis, sliding his cock across her sternum and entering the channel. Not as tight as her cunt or her ass, but warm and soft.