Read A Rocker's Melody (Dust and Bones) for Free Online Page B

him for being so attractive. His thick eyelashes shadowed his dark blue eyes, which smoldered above high cheekbones and a chiseled jawline. His brown hair had grown just a little too long on top; it would be the perfect length for grasping fingers to hold onto while—
    “Can I help you with something, Hopkins?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, the usual smug grin on his face. Melody cursed herself for being so obvious in her admiration. Dylan Bennett didn’t know much, but he was certain to know when he was being checked out. She could only imagine how often that happened.
    “Get your feet off the table,” she told him. “We eat there.”
    He chuckled. “Actually, I eat in bed.” He sent her a suggestive, heated look. She was sure that look made groupies scream and claw at each other to get to him, but she forced her expression to remain passive. That was easier said than done when her heart leapt in response, and her belly writhed with yearning.
    “I’ve always heard that men who eat in bed are sloppy lovers.”
    He just laughed, which in turn made her scowl; he was so secure in his sexual prowess that her insult hadn’t even grazed him. “Any time you want to test that theory, sweetheart, just come on by. Though you should check beforehand to make sure I’m not...already occupied.”
    God, he’s such a pig; a ridiculously talented, handsome pig.
    “I’m not into sharing,” Melody said in a dry voice. “But thanks for the offer.”
    “Well, if you should ever change your mind, it remains an open invitation.”
    Melody turned away from him and headed down the steps of the bus, letting him have the last word. Again. What choice did she have? They would just continue their verbal sparring until she got so upset that she lost her temper—and that was exactly what he wanted. Of that she was sure.
    Outside, men were bustling about, loading the bus up for departure. A couple of them passed by, and a grin split Melody’s face. She recognized the tallest one.
    “...and she had the tightest, I mean the tightest— ”
    “Mike—”
    “I’m getting there, just let me tell it—”
    “Mike, shut it! There’s a lady present. ”
    Big Mike stopped as soon as he noticed Melody, and gave her the once-over.
    “That’s not a lady,” he finally pronounced. “That’s a guitar player.”
    “Still a smooth talker, huh?” Melody said, reaching out to give the big, burly man a hug. Big Mike had been her father’s go-to tour manager for as long as she could remember. For over two decades, he’d been keeping dozens of rock stars in check and out of trouble.
    “You staying away from those boys in there?” Mike asked sternly.
    She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dad .” Her actual father had already given her the same lecture Mike was about to give her: they were all trouble, they were even worse when you got them out on the open road after a gig, don’t come crying to me when they play too rough, and on and on.
    Dylan’s dark blue eyes flashed through her mind unbidden, and her memory conjured up an image of him from the night they had first met, at the local show—he’d sat on a barstool with an acoustic guitar and played, completely lost in his music. Melody couldn’t believe how deeply she had connected with him on stage. It had felt electric, like a current drawing her toward him, like some animalistic force pulling at the depths of her soul. She knew that she would always find his talent incredibly attractive.
    It was his actual personality that was a turn off.
    “You tell me if they get out of hand,” Mike continued. “I’ll have a word with them.” The way he rubbed his hands together indicated that if that happened, he was planning to let his fists do the talking.
    “Will do, Mike,” Melody lied. She was more than capable of fighting her own battles, but Mike was sweet to watch out for her.
    She excused herself after that and headed toward the rear of the bus, walking aimlessly. Too bad she’d quit