Sinners On Tour 03 Hot Ticket Read Online Free PDF

doubt—that he walked offstage without removing his guitar. It produced a series of discordant sounds as he headed backstage at a run until a roadie managed to stop him long enough to claim the instrument from their eager lead guitarist. All things considered, Jace couldn’t remember a worse performance. If the crowd noticed, you couldn’t tell by their cheers and the chanting of “Sinners, Sinners, Sinners” ringing through the entire stadium.
    “Wow, you all sucked,” Eric commented as he tossed a drumstick into the crowd at the front of the stage.
    Jace flicked his guitar pick to the flasher chick in the front row. When it landed in her outstretched hand, she drew it to her lips, kissed it, and then started jumping up and down.
    “I think you have a fangirl, Jace,” Sed commented, wiping the sweat off his face with the hem of his shirt. “Maybe you should invite her backstage. You look like you need a blow job.”
    Jace felt his ears turn red. That fangirl had nothing he needed, but a black-haired dominatrix dressed in leather did. Thinking about Mistress V and the needs she was about to fulfill forced Jace to adjust his fly behind his bass guitar.
    “I know I need one,” Sed added.
    “I get to watch, right?” Eric asked.
    “You know I perform best in front of an audience.” Sed winked, took another bow, and headed offstage.
    Jace handed his instrument to Jake, who carefully carried it to the collection of guitars along the side of the stage. Jace dug the black and red business card out of his pocket. Now he just had to find her address. Nothing short of death would prevent him from arriving on her doorstep at precisely ten p.m.

Chapter 4
    Aggie’s doorbell buzzed at five minutes to ten. She smiled. Lit another candle. Flicked her fingers through the flame. Made him wait.
    The bell buzzed again, longer this time. Looking in the mirror that covered one entire wall of her dungeon’s outer room, Aggie smoothed her long, straight hair with both hands. Checked her makeup. Ran her tongue over her teeth. Made him wait.
    Buzz. Buzz-buzz. Buzzzz.
    She stroked the handle of her favorite whip. Traced the floral design she’d embroidered on her leather corset. Glanced at the clock. Two minutes until ten. Not yet.
    He laid on the buzzer. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
    Aggie chuckled.
    She left the soundproof room and walked through the foyer to answer the door.
    On her doorstep stood the tough angel she couldn’t get out of her thoughts. His name was Jace. Jace Seymour. Jessica, Sed’s ex-fiancée who had privilege to such information, had spilled that sweet tidbit to Aggie earlier that day. Yeah, Aggie had swallowed her tough bitch facade long enough to ask Jessica about a guy. Not her proudest moment. She didn’t think Jess would tell anyone that she was interested in someone she shouldn’t be.
    Jace met her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. “I thought I was late. That you wouldn’t answer.”
    Just as cute as she remembered him. If he’d lose the piercings, spiked hair, and tattoos, he could have made a comfortable living as an Abercrombie and Fitch model. How did a guy this fine end up with a pain fetish? None of her business, she decided. She was just trying to make a living here. And hell, she might as well enjoy her work.
    “Come in.”
    He entered. Glanced around, looking excited and anxious.
    She took his hand and led him to the zebra print love seat just outside the open door of her sanctum: the room where men spent most of their time on their knees. Aggie and Jace sat side by side, inches separating their thighs. They needed to talk business so she knew what he wanted. How he wanted it. And for how long. Each customer was different. “What do you want me to call you, sugar?”
    “Jace,” he said.
    “Is that short for Jason?”
    He tensed, and a flash of deep emotional pain stole across his even features. “Never call me Jason. Never.”
    “Whatever you prefer. I’ll call you