Olivia Cunning - Wicked Beat

“Eric,” she said, “you wash and cut these red potatoes into large chunks.”

He wasn’t sure if he could hold a knife in his trembling hand, but he couldn’t help but be happy that Rebekah had chosen him to help her cook. Not Trey. Eric stifled the urge to stick his tongue out at Sir Fucks-a-lot, who was still chatting with Sed at the front of the bus. Sed stood from the driver’s seat, stretched his arms over his head, and nodded at Trey.

Rebekah tumbled half a bag of potatoes into the sink and left Eric to figure out how to wash and cut them on his own. She heated some oil in a pan and unwrapped the roast. Spellbound, Eric watched her massage spices into the meat, imagining her tiny hands digging into his ass as he gyrated his hips to fuck her deep. And hard.

Would she like it hard? Eric was accustomed to having intensely sensual thoughts frequently. His mind had always been the center of his sexuality, but he didn’t usually get this turned on by everything a woman did. When she tossed the meat into the hot grease and it sizzled loudly, Eric finally snapped back to his senses. He didn’t want that to happen to his ass, thank you very much.

She glanced at him. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

He hated to admit it, but he didn’t. He didn’t want her to get exasperated and shoo him out of the kitchen. He wanted to help her.

To be close to her. Special to her. “Show me.”

She washed a potato, moved it to the cutting board built into the countertop, and cut it into several large pieces. “Do you think you can handle that?” She looked at him from beneath her thick lashes.

Handle what? “Yeah.”

“That smells fantastic already,” Brian crooned from the dining area.

“It won’t be ready for a couple hours.”

Brian covered his belly with both hands when it rumbled with hunger. “I think my stomach will digest itself by then.”

“We used to go days without a decent meal. Myrna has spoiled you,” Jace said and chuckled.

Brian smiled at him. “And not just with her cooking.”

Rebekah turned the meat to sear its other side and searched the fridge for vegetables. Eric almost cut his thumb off as he watched her wriggling backside, which was no longer hidden by her sweatshirt.

“Mercy, woman,” he growled.

She glanced at him, her eyebrows raised in question.

“You have one seriously fine ass.” Eric bit his lip. Sometimes things popped out of his mouth before he had a chance to edit them.

Well, they always did, actually.

Instead of chastising him, she grinned and gyrated her hips.

“You think so?”

The pain of the knife slicing through the pad of his thumb barely registered.

“Way to go, lover boy. Now you’re bleeding all over our fucking dinner,” Trey said. He nudged Rebekah aside and found a bag of apples in the refrigerator. He tossed one to Brian and claimed one for himself.

“Oh dear.” Rebekah yanked the knife out of Eric’s hand and tossed it in the sink. She grabbed his wrist and kept his hand elevated as she tugged him into the bathroom. She searched frantically through the medicine cabinet. “Don’t you guys have anything but pain relievers in here?”

“We tend to nurse a lot of hangovers.” Eric’s chest constricted over her concern. No one gave a shit about him. Ever. “There should be a first-aid kit under the sink.”

Blood was now dripping down the side of his hand, but the wound didn’t hurt much. She located the kit and wrenched it open.

She grabbed a can of antiseptic spray, popped the lid off, and sprayed his wound as if she was an ’s hairdresser with a can of Aqua Net.

Stinging pain shot up his arm.

“Ow! Fuck!” Eric tucked his hand against his chest to protect it from her overzealous disinfection.

“Hold still.” She turned on the water and forced his hand beneath the flow. “Let me see it.”

“Um, Rebekah!” Sed called from outside the bathroom. “I think the roast is burning.”

“Just turn off the burner!” she bellowed. “Eric is more important.”

Eric is more important? Did she really feel that way?

Rebekah inspected his thumb and sucked a breath through her teeth. “It’s not all that deep, but you practically filleted it.”

“If someone hadn’t distracted me with her seriously fine ass…”

She stiffened and lifted her guilty gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ll go put my sweatshirt back on.”

He shifted her back against the sink counter so they were facing each other and pinned her there with his body. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

He brushed her platinum and cobalt hair behind one ear, his uninjured thumb brushing over her high cheekbone. The tension drained from her body and she watched him, her lips slightly parted.

She was close enough that he could feel her heart thudding in her chest and recognized that his was thudding just as hard. He lowered his head, closing the distance between their lips.

“I finished cutting the potatoes,” Jace said and pushed the door open. “Are you okay, Eric?”

Rebekah squirmed from between the counter and Eric’s body. “I think it just needs a bandage,” she said. “What do you think?”

Jace and Rebekah inspected the cut on Eric’s thumb while Eric tried to get his raging hard-on under control. Damn, this woman had him turned every which way but right side up.

“I don’t think it needs stitches either,” Jace was saying.

Another painful spray of disinfectant and a rather large bandage later, Eric followed Jace and Rebekah out of the bathroom. Eric watched her add water to the roast and set it to simmering. She refused to let Eric help her this time, but Jace, the little bastard, somehow weaseled himself into her assistant’s role. Jace didn’t need help figuring out how to peel and cut carrots. It was almost as if he’d cooked before.

“You’ve been holding out on us,” Brian accused as he watched Jace cut onions like a master chef.

Jace glanced over his shoulder, flushed, and changed his technique to awkwardly cutting the onions into uneven chunks.

“You can cook, and you let us starve?” Trey hit Jace in the middle of the back with his apple core.

“I’m not any good,” Jace insisted quietly.

“Better than Eric,” Brian said. “You haven’t cut off your thumb yet.”

Eric laughed. “Fuck you, Sinclair.”

“Sorry, Sticks. I save it all for Myrna.”

With an indulgent grin on his face, Sed shoved Brian’s shoulder.

“Is she pregnant yet?”

Brian shrugged. “Don’t know. If not, it’s not from a lack of trying.”

Eric averted his gaze. He never thought he’d see the day when one of Sinners would talk about having kids. He caught sight of Rebekah staring at Brian as if someone had ripped her heart out.

She noticed that Eric was staring at her again and turned back to the stove. She added the vegetables to the roast, covered the Dutch oven with a lid, and closed herself in the bathroom. Eric wondered what was bothering her.

“Slow down, buddy,” Trey said. It took Eric a moment to realize he was talking to him.

“Huh?”

“If you really want her, slow down.”

“What? You mean Rebekah?”

“Is there any other her on the bus? Just play it cool.”

“But she wants you.”

Trey winked at him. “And I’m still planning to use that fact to its fullest.”

Rebekah checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror to make sure none of the guys would be able to tell she’d been crying.

So stupid that she’d been crying anyway. She couldn’t let herself turn into a blubbering mess every time someone mentioned having babies. Saving her life was more important than being able to have children. She knew that. Sometimes it didn’t feel that way. She’d always wanted to be a mom. Just another dream that had been crushed. Her latest dream, to be the best front of house soundboard operator in the business, was what she needed to focus on. She’d been given a chance. She had to use it and do her best. She prayed her best was good enough.

Rebekah let herself out of the bathroom and went to check on the roast. When she lifted the lid, five hungry rock stars groaned in unison. She grinned to herself. She could totally get used to this. She put the lid back on the pot and turned to face the guys crammed in the two booths around the dining table.

“Do you want a beer, Rebekah?” Sed asked and took a sip from his brown bottle.

“No, thanks. I need to go over Dave’s notes some more.”

She retrieved Dave’s precious notebook from the chair she’d left it in and settled in the seat with the pages of diagrams and text. How on earth was she supposed to remember all this? She’d thought the guitars would be her biggest challenge, but they didn’t compare to how many mics had to be set up and adjusted for Eric’s massive drum kit. She looked up and caught Eric staring at her. He didn’t look away. His pale blue gaze seemed to caress her skin as he watched her with undisguised interest. She didn’t understand why, but she liked the way he looked at her. It was as if she was forbidden fruit, and he was one second away from getting himself ejected from the Garden of Eden.

Rebekah glanced at Trey, hoping he might also show a bit of interest, but he was wedged against Brian in the dining booth going over something about the new song they were adding to the show.

She wished she hadn’t balked back in the storage garage. Trey was the one she’d always had a crush on. Every slight movement he made was like he was playing an orchestra of sensuality. Unfortunately, he didn’t want to play with Rebekah at all.