Free Convincing Constance (The Blow Hole Boys) by Tabatha Vargo Page A

its way up to the tenth floor.

     
     

     
     
     
     
     
    Torture. Constance was an amazing torture that made me suffer and soar all at the same time. I’d kissed girls before. I’d done a hell of lot more than kiss them, but never had it felt the way it had with her. She needed me, and I needed her to need me.
    It was so freeing. So much so that I’d forgotten all about my no touching rule. I could touch them all I wanted, but the minute they put their hands on me , I was done. With Constance, she’d touched me more than any other person since the accident. It was wonderful and horrible at the same time. It didn’t make any sense to me.
    The look in her eyes when I told her we had to stop gutted me. From the moment I first saw her, I knew there was something different about her, but I had no idea how different. I’d spent most of the tour watching her and making sure she was all right, even though I knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself.
    We both stood when the elevator reached the tenth floor. I reached down and plucked her bag from the floor and handed it to her. She wouldn’t even look at me. I knew she was embarrassed. Shit, I was embarrassed. I’d never meant for anything like that to happen. Not with Constance. She was too good for that—too good for me.
    When the elevator doors opened, Finn and Chet were standing there staring back at us.
    “Where the fuck have y’all been?” Chet asked. “We were about to send out search and rescue and shit.”
    Constance said nothing as she ducked around the guys and went to her room. Finn and Chet looked at me with question in their eyes and I shrugged like I had no idea what was wrong with her. She didn’t go out to dinner with us that night. She stayed in her room and ordered room service. I didn’t see her again until it was time to go on stage the next day.
    She was different. The way she held her guitar was different. Her body was stiff like it was stuck in attack mode , and not once did she grin into the crowd like she’d gotten used to doing. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed or sad, and as badly as I wanted to know she was okay, I wasn’t about to go up to her and ask. Maybe I was being a little bitch, but so be it. I had no idea what to say to her.
    We finished up in Denver and drove through to Sacramento, where we had three shows. Constance still hadn’t spoken to me much. She stuck to herself , and as much as Finn and Chet asked what was wrong, she’d never say. It obviously had something to do with me, but I still couldn’t bring myself to ask.
    We played for a full house, and the crowd was wilder than usual , making for a kickass show. Constance played her guitar hard, throwing in extra chords that flourished when it was time for her solo. She was so comfortable on stage now, and she looked beautiful when she’d get in the zone and it was only her and her guitar.
    Her pink -and-blond hair flew in the breeze as she stood perched on top of the speaker and played. Her tight leather pants clung to her ass and thighs like they were painted on. The top she wore showed her amazing stomach and enough cleavage to kill a man. My eyes were glued to her as she bounced with her instrument and mind-fucked the crowd.
    She was turning me on. I spent the entire show in the back , trying to hide my hard dick behind my guitar. There was no denying it. I wanted Constance. And as long as she was game and was okay with the no relationship thing, I was going to get her. She seemed more than willing in the elevator. I just wanted a taste, and then the tour would be over soon and I’d never have to see her again if I didn’t want to. Not that I was a complete asshole, but there was no future with a guy like me.
    After the show, we all went back to the hotel to get showered up and ready for a night on the town. Constance looked extra good in a tight miniskirt, fishnet stockings, knee-high boots that tied all the way to the knee s, and a ripped-up