At the twenty-minute mark, she knew he wasn’t coming into her room.
Maybe this was the beginning of the end.
A strong hand traced her spine, stopping at the bottom curve of her ass.
Warm lips landed on her shoulder. “Mornin’.”
She rolled to her back, and immediately Devin’s mouth was on hers, gifting her with a lazy kiss.
He murmured, “I missed you last night,” against her lips.
“I heard you come into the other room.”
“I tried to be quiet.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Crash said you had a lot of paperwork to do. So I let you be. Wondered if you’d gotten your own room because I’d pissed you off.”
She touched his face, sweeping her knuckles down his razor-stubbled jaw. “You didn’t ask for two separate rooms for us?”
“Hell no.” Those vibrant blue eyes narrowed. “You didn’t either?”
“No. But someone changed the reservation.”
“Why would someone do that?”
Why indeed? To cause dissension. She and Devin had words yesterday and he’d all but slammed his ready room door in her face. Then they’d stayed on separate sides of the meet and greet room last night. So it wasn’t a stretch for those who knew them to assume they’d had a lovers’ quarrel. But who had contacted the hotel pretending to be Devin and changed their sleeping arrangements?
“Did Crash mention it was his idea?”
“Not to me.”
It left her unsettled.
“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?”
“I don’t know. First the bus thing; then you discover another one of your guitars was ripped off. Plus someone had tried to jimmy the lock on my gun drawer. Then someone was screwing with our sleeping arrangements. Anything odd happen at the party last night?”
Devin’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Did you see the blonde with gigantic tits lurking around me?”
“Which blonde?” she said dryly.
He bent down and nipped the top of her boob. As soon as she yelped, he kissed the spot. “You deserved that. Anyway, she said she was a gift from one of my roadies.”
“Did she say which one?”
“No. She probably made it up. Then she offered to suck my c**k like it’d never been sucked.”
Liberty slammed a lid on her jealousy. “There’s a new line.”
“Not really. But it’s better than the standard I suck harder than a Hoover.”
She growled at him. “How long did big tits stick around?”
“No idea. It happened ten minutes after you left. Why?”
“It bugs me. Not just because I f**king hate women drooling over your dick.”
“It’s over. Can we forget about it?” Keeping his eyes on hers, Devin teased her lips with fleeting kisses. “So you can start drooling over my dick?”
She laughed. “Fine. Bring that bad boy up here and I’ll give him a good-morning kiss.”
“Damn, woman, I love you.”
He’d said it in such an offhand manner and right before she stuffed his c**k in her mouth that it didn’t count. Right before she kissed the crown, she murmured, “I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
“This is Devin,” he answered distractedly.
“Hey, Devin. It’s Chelsea Lynn from Country Music Today.”
He smiled. Although Chelsea was a reporter, she was unlike the others he’d dealt with over the years; she had integrity. They’d clicked on a deeper level at their first formal interview, when she’d broken down and told him how much his song “Won’t Be a Tomorrow” had affected her after the death of her older brother. So in a moment of sharing, he’d told her about Michelle. Afterward he kicked himself, suspecting he’d been played and the rookie reporter would pen an angsty article about Devin’s personal tragedy to scoop the competition and to prove herself. But she’d never broken his confidence and he trusted her—which said a lot.
“Great to hear from you. Did I forget I had an interview or something?”
“No. But when you get back to Nashville, I’d love to have lunch and talk about the Heroes and Heartbreakers tour.” She paused. “Rumor has it there have been some unsettling incidents. You’ve got a killer PR team if they’re keeping it out of the press.”
“I learned my lesson with the China Marquette fiasco on how best to game the system. Don’t quote me on that.”
She laughed. “I won’t. And I’m asking this as your friend, not a nosy reporter looking for a story, but you’re all right?”
“I’ll admit it’s been a trying tour. The logistics of it, not the fans or the venues.”
“I definitely want the details on that. But like I said, that’s not why I called.”
A bad feeling started to take root. “Now you’ve got me concerned, Chels.”
“You should be, so I’ll get right to it. I received an anonymous e-mail two days ago that offered me the real inside story on your tour. With pictures.”
“Pictures? Of what?”
“Of you and your new girlfriend. And the first picture attached to the e-mail was really provocative.”
Jesus. Liberty would blow a f**king gasket. “There’s more than one picture?”
“Uh-huh. I played a bit of a cat-and-mouse game with this person. Acting like I didn’t believe they had more to offer. I said we didn’t pay for innuendo and hearsay.”