Wanderlust Read Online Free

purring.
    Lex shrugged and lifted his head to look at her. She handed him a beer and he took a swig. “I don’t know. It’s been a long night already.”
    “We could keep you company.” A hot pink fingernail scraped across his jeans, moving upward. Even the simple sound of that nail against denim was irritating his senses. “Both of us. Right, Candace?”
    The blonde nodded.
    He clamped his hand over the girl’s, stopping its progress. Both women were so close it was as if they were sucking up all the available air. He tugged at the collar of his T-shirt. The groupies were nice to look at,
Maxim
cover-worthy bodies, but he wasn’t feeling it tonight. Hell, he hadn’t been feeling it for months. His eyes darted around the dimly lit room. He’d hoped the body shot girl would come backstage to visit, but he hadn’t seen her. Why wouldn’t she use her pass? He’d never had a woman not take advantage of a backstage pass he’d personally delivered.
    He turned his head to check on Jared, the drummer. The guy consumed brunettes like an alcoholic downed cheap vodka. Lex would kick his ass if he’d intercepted body shot girl before she could get to Lex’s side of the room. But she wasn’t with Jared, either. Instead, a girl with curly dark hair was sitting next to him, fondling one of his drumsticks in a not-so-subtle manner. Jared appeared to be completely enthralled. Unlike Lex, the guy never tired of the endless stream of groupies.
    “What do you think, sweet thing?” Candace asked.
    “Huh?”
    Candace rolled her eyes. “About the three of us having some fun tonight?”
    He sighed. The offer was tempting—at least on some level. A few mindless hours with two women, two women whose only mission was to please him in the most lascivious ways, could probably help him forget the nightmare of a show. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the girl he’d pulled onstage—the way she’d trembled when he’d tasted her skin, the heat in her pale green eyes as they’d brushed lips. He’d barely been able to keep his dick from standing at attention right there on stage. That was what he was in the mood for. Someone with raw reactions, not the over-exaggerated fawning of well-practiced groupies. He scooted forward on the couch and away from their pawing. “Excuse me, ladies. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think it’s a good idea tonight. I need to chat with my manager and then get some shut-eye.”
    They pouted in unison. “Let us know if you change your mind, baby,” one said as he walked off.
    Lex tossed his beer in the trash and prowled the catering table. Finger sandwiches, bags of chips, and drinks sat next to a fishbowl of condoms. He grabbed a bottle of water and surveyed the room one last time. No body shot girl. Just the same generic companionship of the last dozen cities. Groundhog Day. He snuck off to the dressing room for some space.
    The plum-colored walls and the smell of stale cigarette smoke did nothing to alleviate his claustrophobia, but at least the room was quiet. He sank onto the plush sofa and propped his feet on the arm of it. His gaze traced the water stains on the ceiling.
What the hell am I going to do now?
    Tonight was the last of the club shows, and now the deadline for the second album loomed like some black hole ready to crush him for good. Their packed tour schedule wouldn’t fly as an excuse anymore. He’d been trying to write and rework the final songs for months now. Nothing had clicked. The tracks for the first album had poured out of him, as if he would burst if he didn’t get the words on paper fast enough. Easy. Quick. Effortless. The band loved them. The fans ate them up. Even the goddamned critics deemed the singles worthy of positive reviews.
    Now everyone was expecting a sophomore album that didn’t just equal the first but blew it out of the goddamned water. They were all waiting for him to perform another miracle—a record that would push them into the