"TELL ME AGAIN how it was when one slid out and the other slid right inside you afterward."
"Uh-uh." I rolled my eyes and set the shopping bags from the mall down near the window inside our hotel room. "I told you twice already." I shook out my fingers. They were numb from holding onto the handles of the heavy bags. We had gotten our first paychecks from WMO. Not nearly enough to scratch the surface of Marsha's fifty thousand dollars’ worth of debt, but sufficient to justify shopping for more than just reimbursable costume stuff.
"I know, but it sounded so hot. Makes me want to try it myself."
"I’m pretty sure it’s not like that with just any two random guys. Those two know exactly what they are doing. They prefer threesomes. They do it all the time." I stared out the window at the streets of downtown Kansas City, Missouri. More picturesque than I had imagined it when we had added the stop to our RFC route, but I couldn’t summon the proper appreciation for it. Tour miles were wearying miles. That was what all the rock magazine articles said, and I finally got it.
"You ok?" Marsha joined me at the window. She threw her arm around my shoulder, and I threw mine around her waist leaning into her.
"I’m alright." I was feeling jumbled and on edge. Like I didn't fit inside my own skin. Like I wanted to run away from my own life. I had barely been able to feign enthusiasm on the Country Club Plaza as the crew had followed behind us. We had shopped all afternoon at the major fashion houses. Now it was time to pick another guy, and I had zero interest in sorting through the bios to choose one. I let out a long sigh knowing we still had four more cities and four more rock stars to go after this one.
"Truthfully." She tugged on a lock of my hair. "Your mood’s kinda tanked since our morning meeting with the crew. Did you not like the way we edited the Detroit footage?"
"I did. It was sexy. The mix of black and white with color. The lighting. The music. The emotions you captured without showing too much nudity. It was great."
"Then why do you sound so melancholy about it? Are you wishing you had more time with those two?"
"No." I shook my head.
"You were smiling when you crawled into bed."
The sex had been good. I had come hard both times. Being the sole focus of two hot sexy guys, what girl wouldn’t? But I had felt strangely bereft afterward. Especially when I woke up in the morning and realized that the music I had heard inside my head since my night with Lucky was completely gone.
"Was it something those fans we ran into at the airport said?"
"Not really." The girls had been nice enough, but I hadn’t felt comfortable signing autographs. It was weird. I didn’t feel like a real celebrity. I was just playing a part. Maybe we all were. Anyway, I’d put my sunglasses on for the rest of the day, preferring the degree of anonymity the tinted lenses provided to analyzing why I felt like such a fraud.
"You’ve been looking at your phone a lot," she mused. "Is there something upsetting on the internet about you?" she guessed. “Or Lucky?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. While I’d been having my fun with the rap duo in Detroit Lucky had been having some of his own. It was only a kiss, I had told myself repeatedly to stem the hurt. And a hand on her tit under her RFC t-shirt, my dissenting inner voice reminded me.
I suddenly felt sick.
"Oh, honey." Marsha noticed. She tucked my crestfallen face into her shoulder. "I thought you were moving on. Maybe not so much with King, but last night..."
"I can’t talk about this." I shut her down. She raised a brow. "Don’t,” I warned her. "I know what you’re going to say." I raised my head to look at her. "I get it. I’m lying to myself. I still have feelings for him, right?"
"I think you do." She studied me. "I’m not sure how deeply they run because you’re really closed off about it."
"I have to be, Mars," I whispered. "I ended it."
"Because you wanted to or because you had to?"
"A little of both." I swallowed.
"I’m betting a lot of the latter. And you don’t want to discuss it with me because you don’t want me to feel guilty. But you and I both know a large part of the reason you signed the WMO deal and agreed to so many stipulations was to get me out of trouble."
“JGB. The assault accusations against Lucky. Those things are on me. They are my fault. I am responsible."
"Maybe a little, Raven. But you aren’t responsible for what happened with me or how depressed I got after losing Hawk and then the baby. You can’t fix everybody else. We have to figure out a way to fix ourselves."
"But…"
"Take care of you first. So you can be at a good place to share more of that sweet heart of yours with everyone who cares about you. No more bottling things up."
THE CONCERT WAS over. The Black Cat Records’ sponsored after-party was being held at our hotel inside a large gold and cobalt blue ballroom. Tons of media types had shown for the black tie event. News trucks for all the major networks lined the sidewalks around the building. Noir, the headlining band had been out of the public eye since their lead singer had vanished many years earlier. Some people had assumed that he had died. Well, they were wrong. Johnny Lightning was very much alive. Noir was on a comeback tour, and they were selling out every venue.
"Holy shit!" Marsha grabbed my arm and tugged on it to get my attention. "They're here." I turned away from the open bar with my drink in hand and followed the direction of her gaze across the room. Everyone stared as the band led by Mary Timmons, the Black Cat CEO, entered the room. Her chin at an imperious tilt, the attractive mid-forties brunette looked fit to walk the red carpet at the Oscars in her slinky beaded floor length gown. I felt underdressed in my recently purchased off the rack one. The guys from Noir followed four abreast, but such was her persona that I didn’t even note the details of the superstars at first glance. When I did my heart took an excited leap. I was pretty sure every woman in the room had a similar reaction. On stage, they had been in denim and leather while they had rocked the rafters. Here, they put the glitter in glitterati, clad in their crisp white shirts and custom black tuxes. Johnny Lightning the lead singer had striking silver eyes and dark hair. Mick the drummer was a lean blond with double dimples. If the rumors could be believed he could probably give King Acenado some lessons in wreaking havoc. I’d read that he had been banned for life from a couple of Vegas strip clubs. Colt the bassist resembled the lead singer though there was nothing warm within his silver eyes as he surveyed the room with his calculating gaze. And on the far end of the powerhouse quartet, Ryland the lead guitarist and oftentimes singer, the reputed source of the band’s breakup after he had slept with Johnny Lightning's fiancée all those years ago. An unrepentant bad boy. Still unattached at thirty-five, he was my target of the night. When his violet hued eyes swept over me, I actually experienced palpitations. As the record exec summoned him to the podium for the introduction, my heartrate quickened to an even more compelling sight.
Lucky.
In a tux with a black silk tie.
So handsome he put every single one of the Noir guys to shame.
Clutching my drink in bloodless fingers, I stared without blinking, binging on the view, not even noticing anything or anyone else anymore. Then Lucky turned and saw me. I froze solid exhaling my breath as his glacier blue eyes bored into me.
"Are you alright?" Marsha turned to focus on me. I must have whimpered. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
"Not quite." Just the man who haunted my secret dreams and ruled every wistful fantasy.
"What is it?" She shifted following the direction of my gaze. "Shit. He’s here. I didn’t see him before."
"Mars, he's coming this way." My heart tried to hammer its way out of my frozen chest. Too many times after Boston I’d indulged in a fantasy that he would appear, that I would go to him and that we would find a way to recreate the night we had shared. But I had blown out the flickering candles on that wishful confection after his recent phone call.
The man stalking straight toward me didn’t look like he had thoughts of a reunion on his mind. His eyes were icebergs and a cold sneer twisted his beautiful lips. I backed away mumbling an excuse to Marsha while spinning on my heels and searching for the nearest exit. Whatever words frosted the lead singer's tongue were not ones I would want to hear.
"Going somewhere, love?" Firm familiar fingers latched around my upper arms. Warmth and cold. The dichotomy of his touch and the longing and the fear inside my own heart hit me at the same time. My pulse skyrocketed as his eyes locked with mine.
“What are you doing here?" My voice sounded scratchy. My mind threw itself into reverse. Suppressed memories of our night together flooded my head.
“We just played the Arvest a couple of blocks from here, a smaller venue than you’re used to now I suppose. I imagine you’re wondering why they let a second tier talent like me inside the door to an invitation only party like this?"
That wasn’t at all what I was thinking. If he really wanted to know all he had to do was look at me, really look at me, the way he had in Boston. He wouldn’t be able to miss the longing in my eyes.
"I think mainly I'm here as an excuse for my boss to meet Noir's." His gaze wasn’t on mine anymore. He had released one of my arms and was focused across the room where a handsome older man was leaning in close to the Black Cat CEO.
"That’s Charles Morris?" My eyebrows rose. He wasn’t at all how I pictured him. He wasn’t some potbellied cigar smoking curmudgeon. Lucky's boss was a silver fox.
"Yeah." The lead singer frowned at the CEO then clashed gazes with me again.
“Is Sky ok?” I quickly asked, hoping that thoughts of his sister might transform his displeasure.
“She’s fine. Doing really well actually. She looks forward to your call each day.”
“Good. I’m glad she’s well. I look forward to talking to her, too.” I swallowed hard. “I miss her.” I miss you.
He cocked his head to the side, an arrow of ink slashing into the outer corner of his eye and releasing a softer emotion. "You look incredibly beautiful in that dress, Raven." He swept his hair backward off his brow and me off my feet with that simple but genuinely spoken compliment.
"Thanks," I whispered, glancing at the strapless bodice of the platinum floor length gown as if seeing it for the first time. "Marsha helped me pick it out today." When I lifted my gaze I found myself singed by the burning intensity of his. "You look very handsome in your tux." An inadequate compliment. More like utterly and completely captivating, but it was the best I could manage with him looking at me like there might be a chance for us after all.
"Thanks, I only drag it out for occasions like this." He seemed to run out of small talk. We both had. We just stared at each other, until he recaptured both my arms and drew me toward him. His fingers flexed deep into my skin. The heat of his body buffeted me. I realized how close we were standing to each other. I remembered we were over, and I recalled all the reasons why we could never be.
"It’s good to see you again.” I shrugged out of his grip and took an unsteady step backward. “But you should get back to whoever you came with, and I really should get going."
"Hey, Lucky." A deep male voice rumbled from behind me.
"How’s it going, mate?" Lucky returned the greeting from Noir’s guitarist. They exchanged slaps on each other’s backs the way guys who are good friends do. "Haven’t spoken to you since the tour in London."
"Yeah, it’s been a while and circumstances have certainly changed for both of us." Violet assessing eyes swept my way briefly before returning to his colleague.
"Selling out the Sprint Center is a far cry from playing those small pubs and what not, eh?"
"Heard your band is making some real headway, too. Morris and Timmons are talking about it. I think you are on the short list to open for us once we put out our new album."
"That would be a real honor," Lucky stated, sounding sincere.
Ryland nodded to acknowledge the compliment then ran a hand through his sandy hair as he shifted his full attention to me. "I didn’t realize you and the RFC chick were...acquainted."
"We're not." I straightened not appreciating the insinuation. "Not the way you think."
I could feel the sudden tension rolling off of Lucky as I clarified the status of our relationship. What did he want me to say? Was I not allowed to remember our night together the way I wanted to?
"Well, that’s good to hear, since I’m not the type of guy to cut in on a friend. Not anymore. It’s not worth the fallout." He stepped closer to me. "You looking for a hookup tonight, babe?"
I swayed a bit from the sultriness of his tone.
"I hear that you usually dance first before you decide. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve got." Ryland ran the back of his knuckles down my arm. Focused on me, he didn’t notice Lucky’s reaction, but I did. Like twin icicles, his frosty gaze chilled me to the marrow.
"I don’t know exactly how the process works." Ryland continued to stroke my arm, a pleasant caress but even so my attention remained on Lucky. The lead singer of the Dragons had his hands fisted at his sides, his frame coiled up so tightly that I could feel the tension ready to spring. "But I wanted to let you know that you're top of the list for the after-after party. I signed the disclosure. I hope you choose me. I promise to make it a night you won’t forget."
My jaw dropped as Ryland turned away. Lucky let out a blistering curse and grabbed me, his tight grip encompassing my wrist.
"What are you doing?" I asked as he dragged me toward the nearest exit. I tried to dig my platform heels into the carpet to slow him down, but he was determined. I had to quickly shuffle my feet within the narrow confines of my skirt to keep from falling over.
“What I should have done in Boston.” His bright eyes darted back and forth. He seemed to be searching for something.
"Stop," I hissed in the foyer, tugging my arm and attempting to free myself. “Let me go.”
"No." He gave me a firm look. "Not until I speak with you." He pulled me into a nearby alcove pushing open a door on the far end. A motion sensor light came on providing a soft glow for the interior of a walk in coat closet. I backed away as he pulled the door shut.
"What the hell was that, Angel?" He angled his head and swept his heated gaze over me. "You think it’s cool to deny me in front of the whole world and then proposition my friend while I’m standing right there beside you?" He crossed his arms over his chest.
"I didn’t. Well, I guess I did that first part. I didn’t have a choice. But the other…that was Ryland, not me." Lucky’s eyes narrowed. I took another step backward as he pushed away from the door and stalked toward me. A wool coat brushed against my back. I gulped as he stopped. His rum and citrus scent washed over me. The tips of his glossy dress shoes bumped the open toes of my sandals. He reached for me, his movements slow and purposeful. Softly, he skimmed the pads of his fingers across my skin. I closed my eyes the moment his flesh connected with mine. I had told myself I’d exaggerated the feel of his touch. The way it seared my skin. The way it burrowed deep like a brand. What all of that meant.
"Fuck it," he growled, and I opened my eyes to see his darkened gaze full of intent. "I think we both need a reminder how things really are. I’m fucking you first then we'll talk." I might have nodded, but I forgot everything the instant his lush lips touched mine.
Decadent.
Delicious.
Desirable.
Devastating.
I moaned, lifted my arms, twined them around his strong neck and arched my willing body into his. Long ring adorned fingers curling around my biceps and trailing heat, he drew me tighter to him. He angled his head and coaxed my lips wider apart. His hungry tongue plunged inside and rubbed against the tip of mine. The friction ignited fire. I gave myself over to him, to this unparalleled passion between us. His hands rushed over my body tracing my curves sparking flames everywhere he touched me. His tongue inside my mouth made me crazy, made me wet, made me throb. I didn’t protest when I felt him undo the clasp of my dress. I whimpered when he lowered the zipper inch by inch along my spine. Cool air bathed my skin as the satin caught and puddled around my waist.
"Lucky," I moaned awash in sensation as he broke the kiss.
"Raven." He licked a warm path down the column of my neck whispering my name reverently as he repeated it and shaped my breasts in his worshipful hands. His thumbs warm and heavenly, he stroked the aching tips. I shivered feeling the flutter of that light touch deep within my core.
"Just look at you." He released my breasts maintaining eye contact while he crouched down before me. "So fucking phenomenal." He captured the hem of my gown and lifted it slowly. His fingers warm and his rings cold as they slid along the surface of my skin, he softly stroked my calves, my knees and my thighs as he gathered the satin at my waist. Crushing it within his grip, he broke the connection between our eyes for a moment to look at all that he had unveiled.
"Lucky." I trembled before him, my breasts heavy and full, my nipples ruby flushed and my pussy wet and exposed. I’d worn no undergarments other than my garters and hose. "Please don’t stop."
"I have no intention of doing so." His face changed from sensual appreciation to something darker. "Do the others stop when they see you like this?" He captured my nipples and pinched them. My lips parted. My head tipped back. A moan escaped. He did it again. And again. The twisting stinging burn fueled an incessant throbbing that centered at my clit. The pleasure robbed me of the ability to speak, but I moaned when he drove his hand down between our bodies, cupped my pussy and rocked the fleshy part of his palm against me. "Is that good?" he inquired staring down at me as I writhed against him.
"Yes…Only...” There was something I needed to say, but I lost all coherent thought when he brought his hand to his mouth and licked his palm.
"No one tastes like you." His eyes dark sapphire carnal pools of lust, he walked me backward pressing my spine into the wall. His palm wet and warm between my breasts, he undid his trousers with the other hand and lowered his boxers before ripping open a condom packet with his teeth. He didn’t remove the rest of his clothing. I wanted to touch his bare chest. But I wanted him inside me even more. Apparently he wanted that, too. Condom on his glorious cock, he swiped his thumb through my wetness making me shudder before he positioned and plunged his significant length inside me.
“No one feels like you,” I gasped. Gripping his strong shoulders through his jacket, I could feel the bunched tension in his muscles. I let out a ragged exhalation when he started to move.
"Wrap your legs around me," he ordered, and I did. He withdrew until only the tip of him remained then plunged back inside. "You're so wet,” he praised, repeating the motion but stroking in and out faster this time. The heat of his cock made my body shiver. The friction of each stroke over my clit felt electric. I tightened around him. "So perfect for my cock." He groaned on his next thrust. I felt the tension inside of me coil tighter.
"Lucky. Faster," I begged. My fingers tangling in his silky hair, I tugged insistently. His hands on my ass, he drove in and pulled back out.
"Yes, squeeze me just like that." His next thrust was so hard and so deep it rattled my spine and the wall behind me. The one after that made me cry out. I wanted to move with him, but I couldn’t. All I could do was take what he gave. So I did. It was hot. He was phenomenal. The best I ever had.
“Lucky, oh Lucky. Yes.” I dug my nails into his jacket as he impaled me over and over again. My body vibrated with the force of my need and the mastery of his possession. I reveled in his strength, the pleasure of each purposeful thrust, the back and forth glide of his cock over my clit. Sensing my need, he increased his speed. He hammered me into the wall and pounded my cunt. My release rushed up toward me, and I went over the edge at the same time he did. I felt him stiffen and felt the heat of his release even through the condom. I chanted his name and spasmed around his cock. Just then the rack over our heads became dislodged. He fastened his mouth to mine absorbing the blissful aftershocks of my orgasm as coats tumbled to the floor all around us.