Bex’s guitar was leaning up against a speaker, and I wanted to go touch it. It was black, smooth and shiny with the logo in the corner. Before I could even step towards the stage, I heard commotion coming from the hallway. Just as I was about to investigate, the doors opened and in walked Jaded Regret. I knew there were four of them, but my eyes were glued to Bex.

Fuck. Me. She was even hotter in person than she was online. Maybe the girl didn’t own shirts that covered her stomach, or maybe she just knew how fucking hot she was. Either way, I loved it. She wore a cropped tank top, showcasing washboard abs that I instantly wanted to lick. She wore a red ball cap over her long hair and lowslung jeans that showed a peek of that tattoo I wanted to see up close.

Her arms were toned and tan. She turned back to one of the guys as they walked, pointing at something on the stage. I was transfixed. I felt Cal move up next to me, but I couldn’t look at him. Musicians were my weakness, as were hot as hell women. She checked both the boxes. I vowed to myself right then and there that she’d be mine sometime this weekend. I’d show her just how hospitable The Outrigger could be.

Natalie breezed in after them. I only knew because I saw her long blonde hair out of my peripheral vision. I’d thought she was the one I’d be after until I saw Bex in person. Hell, I wondered if they liked to do some sharing. That would be epic. I was still staring at Bex, watching as she stepped up onto the stage and grabbed her guitar. She strummed the strings, and I swore she gave me a hard on just from that alone. I seriously needed to get a grip if I was going to watch her play for three nights.

The guys took their places behind her, each of them making adjustments and doing sound checks. The familiar pull in my gut made me ache. I remembered doing this, each of us having our own routine to warm up and get ready to play. Forcing my eyes from her, I looked at the other band members. I’d read their bio enough times to memorize who was who. Beau, the drummer, had short dark hair, a short beard, gauges in his ears, and tattoos covering every bit of skin I could see. Tanner, the bass player, had short blond hair and looked the most clean-cut of all of them. Ryver, the second guitar player, had dark hair and olive skin, most likely some sort of Hispanic descent. I wondered if any of them were her type, and what her type was.

My gaze drifted back to Bex. She was facing the guys, still warming up. God, I couldn’t wait to hear her voice. Getting a view of her backside for the first time was quite a treat. She had another tattoo on her back, just sticking out from the bottom of her short top, and her ass filled out the jeans just like I expected them to. I wondered what she did to keep in shape and assumed it was something awesome like boxing or something. I could picture her in the ring with another woman, kicking her ass clear to next week. That made me hard, too.

“Hot, isn’t she?” Cal finally spoke. I nodded, crossing my arms in front of my chest as she turned back around. I slid my sunglasses over my eyes, even though it wasn’t bright in here.

“I’m going to have her before they leave,” I said presumptuously.

I felt Cal looking at me. “Oh, boy.”

“What?”

“You haven’t read much about her, have you?”

That caught my attention. “What does that mean? Is she a lesbian or something?” That would abso-fucking-lutely kill me.

He cackled. “No, bro. She’s a ball buster, man. No one gives that woman shit. She has quite a reputation. She’s respected as hell, but no one crosses her.”

I scoffed. “We’ll see about that.” After all, she was a hot woman. She had to be used to being hit on. And she’d want to be hit on by me. Plus, I didn’t want anything from her other than her body. The nice part was, she was traveling after this. Maybe she’d end up in the Denver area or back here in Florida, and we could hook up again.

Cal whistled. “I want to be around when she cuts off your balls and shoves them in your mouth.”

I rolled my eyes. “She can’t be that bad. Look at her. She’s probably a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Cal said. “I’m going to grab some more beer from the back.”

“Need help?” I didn’t say it convincingly, and he knew it.

“Nope. You stay here and daydream. That’s about all you’re going to get.”

“You watch and see,” I said. “She’ll come to me.”

As soon as Cal walked away shaking his head, Natalie stepped up. “They’ll warm up and practice for a little while and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“No problem,” I said, forcing my eyes to hers. “They can take as long as they want.”

Natalie was watching me, so I made sure to make my expression blank. I knew the look on her face well. She was trying to figure out how to ask me out or flirt with me, but she was intimidated. Good. That’s the way I liked it. Plus, as hot as she was, she didn’t hold a candle to Bex, and my sights were set on her.

I forced myself to go back to the bar and clean up, preparing for the impending rush. The show wasn’t supposed to start until nine o’clock, but I knew people would come several hours early to get a good seat. The sounds of Jaded Regret filtered through my head as I made myself keep my eyes off of them. Bex hadn’t started singing yet, and I wondered if she was going to at all.

“Can I get a Coke?” I lifted my eyes and met hazel ones. Oh, shit. Bex was standing at my bar. Her voice was light and gravely, sending shocks directly to my groin. I’d somehow missed her getting off the stage and heading this way. My eyes traveled her body. It looked even better up close. I could see that the tattoo on her lower stomach was some sort of flower or something. Her belly button piercing was a dangling guitar. Her skin glistened with sweat.

I reached blindly for a cold glass and filled it up, my eyes never leaving hers. She didn’t look like she was going to rip off my balls and stuff them in my mouth. Take that, Cal. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrowed, snatching the glass from me and gulping the liquid. She slammed it down on the counter. “Oh, please. Tell me you can do better than that. Why don’t you just come out and say it.”

Oh, we were going to play that game, were we? I was good at the asshole game. Her eyes flitted to my arms as I crossed them in front of my chest before she looked back at me. “Say what, princess.”

“First of all,” she started, spitting her words out like bullets. Oh, so this was the Bex Cal warned me about. I liked it. I could do a lot with that spitfire mouth. “My name isn’t fucking sweetheart or princess. It’s Bex. Not anything else. And what you wanted to say was, you want to fuck me, but instead you gave me some lame pick-up line that you thought would work on this weak ass female because you’re used to others falling at your feet. I’m not going to get down and suck your dick, no matter how much you flex your muscles for me. Your tats and muscles might work for the idiots that come to this bar, but not for me. We straight?”

She might’ve thought that would deter me, but she was wrong. So I laughed instead of responding. “Bex. That’ll sound good in my bed later.”

She snorted, slapping her hand down on the counter. “Un-fucking-believable. What is it? You have some sort of brain damage? I’m. Not. Fucking. You.”

This wasn’t going the way I anticipated. “Let’s start over,” I said, reaching out my hand. “Johnny.”

She eyed me carefully, but didn’t hold out her hand. “Bex.”

“Bex, welcome to The Outrigger. This is the home of the best orgasm you’ll ever receive.”

She lifted her eyebrow, lifting the glass to her lips again. “You always this cocky?”

I shrugged. “Don’t have any reason not to be.”

“Well now you do,” she said, setting down the empty glass.