red-and-black-streaked hair bounce like he was in a shampoo commercial. The guy possessed so much product, he could stock a hair salon. ‘Probably not such a good idea. I dunno that they recognise me yet. I tried saying “Hi” on the way in and didn’t get much of a response. They all want you guys.’
‘Give it time, Iain,’ Ash said in the most conciliatory voice he could muster. ‘The tour’s barely begun, and you’ve not been on a release yet. After the next single, it’ll be all “Whoa, Iain, he’s hot!” and “Can I play with your rhythm stick, Mr Willows?”’ His remarks raised a smile.
‘I’ll look forward to it. Then we can party hard together.’
‘Yeah,’ Ash replied, trying not to let his reluctance bleed into his tone. His days of banging Black Halo fans were over. He’d already disappointed a lot of ladies who’d queued to see him. However, if Iain was happy to spread some love around once the fans accepted him, then that would help him out of a bind. One thing he’d learned was that their female fans weren’t overly picky about which member of the band they got to be with, just as long as someone was prepared to love them a little bit.
He downed the remains of his drink, wiped his mouth and slung the empty bottle into the kitchen wastebin. ‘Let’s go up now. I’m whacked.’
The copious amounts of alcohol he’d downed utterly failed to numb his desire for Ginny. Ash lay on his back, staring up at the bottom of the bunk above, trying not to give in to the temptation to wank himself silly. He was still every bit as wired now as when Ginny had been astride his lap riding him to oblivion.
He wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant about relieving himself, except that it had been such a long time since he’d needed to do such a thing. He was used to having women lining up to bring him joy. No, he wasn’t counting all the times he had to finish himself off after less-than-stellar sex, because that was different. It was. Then it was almost an automatic response to being stoked but not aroused enough to come, whereas right now his whole body was begging him. His skin was alive with static charge, and the mere brush of the duvet was almost unbearable. Ginny’s scent still lingered on his skin. His lips tasted of her unique flavour, while her image filled his imagination. She was the sexiest being in creation. No one else came close, not even Mr Sex-on-a-stick Geist. Not that he routinely found guys hot or anything. And those shorts she’d combined with her fishnets, mmm … mmm … mmm. They were way too delicious to ever want to take off, so it was fantastic that she’d thought of a way he could fuck her while she was still wearing them. At the same time they were damnable, because they were largely responsible for his current state.
He ought to have run with Ginny when she’d fled. If he had, he’d have been naked in heaven right now. Instead, he was stuck here sweating like a horny teenager, and it was going to take more than a quick bit of knuckle-shuffling to calm him down. In fact, surreptitiously sliding his hand beneath the covers and wrapping his fist around his shaft didn’t ease a goddamn thing. It made him ache all the harder.
Stroking simply made him groan.
Ginny – he needed Ginny. She’d know how to soothe his pains. She always knew exactly how to make things right for him, which perhaps was why he was in such a state of shock now. There was no way on earth she hadn’t known what condition she was leaving him in when she bolted. Nor had he any clue when he might see her again. Being on tour made it more difficult to sneak off than he’d ever anticipated, and this tour was far harder work than any past series of gigs. Iain wasn’t quite turning out to be the miracle cure he’d hoped for. He refused to blend his image with that of the band, and his main agenda seemed to be to get laid. That was fine, except he wanted Ash to party with him. He, of course, only wanted to party with Ginny.
Ash closed his eyes and pushed thoughts of Iain to the back of his mind. It was just weird ruminating about him while he was frantically working his fist. Normally, thinking about his mates quickly sapped his libido. Tonight, nothing seemed to work. He tried visualising hideous crimes, followed by deadly boring meetings with music execs, but no, his body still craved release.
He wondered if this was how Xane felt when he couldn’t feed his addiction. Xane seemed to require sex in the same way other people needed air. Without it, he couldn’t function. No doubt he was having a glorious time at the moment, cosied up in some hotel room having his mind blown by his girlfriend Dani.
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