Chapter 3

In his reverie, he missed Tatum pulling out her phone until she whistled under her breath. “Sex on a stick is right.”

Jett strained to see what she’d found. Trev’s blue eyes bored into him, even from such a tiny screen, his lean, muscled chest visible through his ripped leather shirt. Blood and heat surged south, and he shifted slightly to ease the sudden strain of his cock against his pants where it was now trapped against his thigh.

“He was everything I wanted to be,” he mused. “But didn’t have the guts to do.”

“What does he look like now?”

“I have no idea.”

“Was this his only hit?”

“Again, I have no idea. It was the only hit Godless Crisis had, I know that. But what he did when the band broke up—what are you doing?”

“Checking him out now. You know you’re curious.”