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Take me to paradise, p.1
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       Take Me to Paradise, p.1

         Part #6.5 of Sinners on Tour series by Olivia Cunning
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  Chapter One

  Only one thing could top being woken by a skilled lover expertly sucking his cock: knowing—without even opening his eyes—that his wakeup call was being delivered by his sensational wife.

  “Well, good morning to you too,” Brian said, lifting his head from the pillow to watch her work her magic.

  Myrna smiled a greeting with her pretty hazel eyes since her mouth was otherwise occupied. She took him deep into the back of her throat and increased the strength of her suction as she pulled back.

  His belly tightened in an involuntary spasm of delight, and he dropped his head back on the pillow, wondering what he’d done to deserve this phenomenal alarm clock.

  Myrna bobbed her head until Brian was so hard he could have used his dick to carve marble, and then she pulled back until he popped out of her mouth. He watched her in silent awe as she crawled up his body to straddle his hips.

  “My temperature is optimal,” she explained, reaching between her legs to press his cockhead into her slick opening. His flesh throbbed with pleasure as her tight pussy swallowed him inch by glorious inch.

  Myrna wanted a baby almost as much as he did, and though they’d been trying for months, they hadn’t found success. She had recently resorted to taking her temperature near the middle of her cycle, hoping to find her fertile time. She’d switched from a romantic approach to a more scientific one when fucking like rabbits any time they were in the same room together hadn’t done the trick.

  “I should be on top,” he said, “so gravity isn’t working against us.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded, blinking against the sudden flood of tears in her eyes.

  He sat up and wrapped both arms around her. “Don’t cry, baby. It will happen.”

  She clung to him as if afraid he was about to desert her again. He knew half of their problem was that his tour schedule with Sinners kept them apart most of the time.

  “How can it happen when you’re always on the road?” she said and snuggled her face into his neck.

  “I’m not on the road now,” he said.

  “Only because the tour bus was ripped in two.”

  “Maybe your ovaries planned it that way,” he said and rolled her onto her back. He was hoping to bring a smile to her face, but she just scowled at him.

  “Don’t joke about the crash. That was the most terrifying experience of my life.”

  She’d done well at hiding her fear until they’d been alone together and she’d completely fallen apart. He’d loved how she’d needed his strength to help her come to terms with the accident that had nearly taken their lives, but he didn’t love that it always took a life-threatening crisis for her to show any weakness.

  He kissed her deeply and began to rock his hips, willing memories of that horrible experience to leave her mind and his. When she relaxed beneath him and began to explore his back with gentle fingertips, he churned his hips to give her more pleasure. He knew he could give her pleasure, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever give her the baby she wanted so badly. He was starting to think there was something wrong with his potency, which made him want to make a baby even more. To prove that what he kept in his pants wasn’t just for show. That it could get the job done properly.

  Myrna moaned softly, grinding against him as her excitement built. He lifted onto his elbows so he could watch her as he thrust into her, pulled back, and then plunged into her again. He would never tire of looking at her face or its countless expressions—her joy, her anxiety, her passion. Her fear and sorrow. Her anger and tenderness and wonder and love. He cherished every nuance of her beautiful face and doubted he’d ever grow tired of watching her—not even when they were both old and wrinkled like a pair of enamored raisins.

  “I love you,” he whispered when the emotion became too raw to hold inside.

  She smiled up at him and lifted a hand to touch his beard-stubbled jaw. “I love you too Brian.”

  They deserved to have the ultimate expression of their love. They deserved to have a baby. So why was making one so fucking difficult for them?

  He made love to her slowly, filling her deeply, waiting for her to find her peak. He followed her in orgasm, planting himself firmly against the entrance of her womb as he found release inside her. He withdrew slowly, trying not to disrupt what he’d left behind, and then rested his head on her chest as he slowly regained his breath. She ran her fingers through his hair while he prayed that they’d made it happen this time. Please God, let her be happy. Let her have a baby. My baby. Please.

  “Let’s go away somewhere,” she said after a moment. “Just the two of us. We never got to have a real honeymoon after our wedding, and Jerry said it will be awhile before you’re able to get back on tour. Plus, my leave of absence from work extends for another full week.”

  Going on a honeymoon sounded like a great idea to him. While spending time with Myrna in Kansas City was wonderful, it would be spectacular to get away from everything for a while. Maybe staying in the apartment where her creep of an ex-husband had shown up and made her feel unsafe was stressing Myrna out. His mom had told him that women sometimes had a hard time conceiving when they were stressed. She’d also told him that older women often struggled to get pregnant, but he’d immediately dismissed that reason. And he had not told Myrna that he’d been worried enough to call his mom for advice. His mother wasn’t on Myrna’s list of favorite people. Especially after his mom blamed Myrna for not getting to attend her own son’s wedding and was unabashedly vocal about her disapproval of his and Myrna’s age difference. It wasn’t as if seven years was eons. And he loved Myrna. Adored her. He was euphorically overjoyed to have Myrna as his wife. Shouldn’t that be what his mother cared about? Not their age difference, but their happiness together? He often didn’t understand how his mother’s mind worked.

  “Where would you like to go?” Brian asked.

  “I’ll go anywhere,” Myrna said, “as long as I’m with you.”

  His heart warmed. He loved the rare occasions when she said romantic things to him.

  She crinkled her pert nose, and he knew her atom-thin romantic streak had already vanished. “Except Canada,” she said. “Canada doesn’t seem to like me much.”

  The bus accident had occurred in Canada, and they both knew the crash had nothing to do with a place liking anyone, but he understood her hesitation to return there so soon after tragedy had struck the family of their little metal band.

  “I’ll call a travel agent and see what’s available in a hurry,” he said. “Are you hungry?” He lowered his head and kissed her flat belly. He wondered what she’d look like with his baby growing inside her. He was positive that it would be the most beautiful sight he’d ever see.

  “A little. Are you?”

  “Starving,” he said.

  “I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”

  He pressed her firmly into the mattress. “You stay here and incubate,” he said. “I’ll bring you something.”

  “I appreciate that,” she said, her eyes growing moist again.

  Damn, she was emotional while trying to get pregnant. He couldn’t even imagine how emotional she’d be once she actually conceived. He wouldn’t mind, though. He was more than happy to make midnight runs for pickles and ice cream to keep a smile on her face. He’d do anything to make her happy.

  “No problem,” he said and kissed her pouty pink lips. “It’s the least I can do after that wonderful wake-up you gifted me with this morning.”

  “When my ovaries say it’s time, it’s time,” she said with a laugh.

  “We have at least twelve more hours to take advantage of their cooperation,” he said.

  “Better make that breakfast a quick one.” She patted his ass. “I
m ready for you to take advantage of me again.”

  Chapter Two

  Less than six hours later, Brian was sitting in an airport terminal holding Myrna’s hand as they waited to board their flight to Oranjestad in Aruba.

  “We’re missing our window of opportunity,” she said. “My egg is probably dying as we speak.”

  “I thought you wanted to get away. Just the two of us.”

  “I do. I just wasn’t expecting to leave today,” she said.

  “That travel agent performed a miracle for us. She called every five-star resort on the island and was lucky enough to locate us a penthouse suite during the peak of the season.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. There’s always next month.” She frowned. “Except, you’ll be back on the road by then.”

  “Maybe you got pregnant this morning,” he said, rubbing her back encouragingly. He wanted to give this woman the world, and he had the financial means to do that. So if they were required to go through the long and expensive process of getting pregnant with the aid of a fertility clinic, at least they wouldn’t have to worry about the cost. “We’ll give it a year, and then we’ll see a doctor to figure out if something’s wrong.”

  “I know half the problem is wanting so badly for it to happen,” she said, “but I can’t help it.”

  “I want it to happen too. Sometimes these things take time.”

  “We don’t have limitless time, Brian. I’m already in my mid-thirties. You should have married someone younger,” she mumbled with a scowl.

  Her words stung. Did she think the only reason he married her was because she’d make the most beautiful babies on the planet? And it was bad enough that his mother thought Myrna was too old for him—he sure as hell didn’t need Myrna spouting the same nonsense.

  “Myrna, I didn’t want to marry someone younger. I wanted to marry you. You know I don’t give a fuck about your age.”

  “I can’t help but think if I was ten years younger, this wouldn’t be an issue. I’d have been knocked up the second I got off birth control.”

  “We’ve only been trying for a few months,” he reminded her. “That’s not very long.”

  She bit her lip and nodded, her stare unfocused. He couldn’t stand to see her like this. Maybe she’d feel better if they utilized their narrow window of opportunity while waiting for their flight.

  He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “We could go find some secluded corner and try again right now.” He slid a hand over the fabric of her dress, smiling when her thigh tightened beneath his exploratory caress.

  She glanced around, and he knew she was considering it. Fuck, his wife rocked his world.

  “It’s too crowded,” she said, her voice hollow with disappointment.

  Brian’s cock twitched in his pants. They needed to get to their hotel in Aruba immediately.

  “How long is the flight?”

  She checked their boarding pass. “Seven and a half hours.”

  That was definitely not immediately. He groaned.

  She patted his thigh, and his cock twitched again.

  “Stop thinking about sex,” she suggested, her gaze on the increasing bulge in his pants.

  “You started it,” he said.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t finish it at the moment. Maybe I can sneak in a handjob under a blanket on the plane.”

  He grinned and shook his head. “You’re getting me wound up on purpose.”

  She blinked at him, trying her best to look wide-eyed and innocent. “Who, me?”

  He was just glad she’d stopped moping. If that meant a huge case of blue balls for him, he’d gladly make the sacrifice.

  A few minutes later a flight attendant made a grainy-sounding announcement over the intercom to start the boarding process.

  Myrna checked their seat numbers and shook her head. “That’s not us.”

  He traced patterns on the back of her hand with one fingertip while they waited. And waited. The terminal was mostly empty when their section was called. Brian carried both carry-ons while Myrna maneuvered her enormous purse through the dwindling crowd. As they stood in line chatting about remembering to turn off the coffee pot and lock the door and did he remember to pack this or that, Brian became aware of the conversation behind him.

  “That is him,” some guy said.

  “No, it’s not,” a woman returned. “What would he be doing in Kansas City? And boarding a commercial flight to Aruba? I don’t think so. He’d be on a private jet or something.”

  “It is so him. I’ve seen him onstage around a thousand times.”

  Brain winced and pretended he didn’t know they were talking about him.

  “Master Sinclair!”

  Myrna immediately turned to see who had called Brian’s name. Damn it. It was difficult to pretend he hadn’t heard when his wife was tugging at his sleeve and nodding toward the couple behind them. He so didn’t want to be a celebrity while he was on vacation; he just wanted to be Brian. He turned and offered a courteous nod to the twenty-something guy behind him. The dark-haired, stocky man in a faded black Exodus End T-shirt had almost as many tattoos as Brian had.

  “I knew it was you,” the guy enthused, showing off a rather crooked set of teeth. “I knew it. Didn’t I say it was him, Gail? I said that is fucking Brian Master Sinclair right in front of us. Didn’t I, Gail?”

  “Yeah, that’s what you said,” his very tall, very thin, very blond companion said.

  “Are you on vacation? Going to Aruba? I heard about the bus crash in Canada. Glad no one was hurt.”

  “Our sound board operator is now paralyzed,” Brian said tersely.

  “Well, glad no one important was hurt. So why are you going to Aruba?”

  Dave was very important and not only because he was an amazing sound engineer. He was an all-around good guy. Myrna took Brian’s arm and tugged him toward the woman checking IDs against boarding passes.

  “Delayed honeymoon,” Brian said. He turned, trying to put the guy out of his head. Brian had wanted to get away from just this kind of thing, and damned if it wasn’t following him onto the fucking plane.

  “Oh. Is that your wife? I thought she was your secretary or something. I figured a rock star like you would be married to some hot nineteen-year-old blonde with big ol’ titties.” The dude laughed hysterically, ending with a loud snort.

  Myrna bristled, and Brian suppressed the urge to punch the guy in his prattling mouth. Unfortunately, the dude continued to yammer at the back of Brian’s head all the way down the jetway and even inside the plane’s cabin. Brian pressed a finger to his forehead, hoping to stave off a threatening headache.

  “Me and Gail are getting married this week,” the guy said. “On the beach in Aruba.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “We’d love for you to come. And you could even bring your wife if you want. Hey, do you guys swing, by any chance?”

  “No,” Brian said, shoving their carry-ons into the compartment over their seats. He chanced a glance at Myrna, who had taken the window seat and was trying to glare a hole into their tag-along’s throat.

  “That’s too bad. Gail likes to bang guitarists.”

  Gail giggled shrilly at this, which turned Brian’s threatening headache to full-out pounding throb behind his right eye.

  “That’s nice,” Brian said.

  “We really would like you to attend our wedding, though. Will you come?”

  “We have other plans,” Brian said with as much cordiality as he could muster.

  “Oh,” the guy said flatly. “Well, I’m Kev. It was really awesome meeting you in any case.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” Brian said, giving Kev’s moist hand a shake to finalize their interaction.

  Brian flopped into his seat and turned to Myrna, striking up a meaningless conversation in hopes to deter Kev from camping out in the aisle beside him.

  “He’s gone,” Myrna said after several tense moments.

  “I ha
te to be an asshole to a fan, but I am not in the mood to be pestered this week.”

  “He was rather insulting,” Myrna said, putting her hands under her perfect breasts and giving them a fluff.

  “I can go punch him in the mouth if you want.”

 
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