by Casey, Ember
“This is not the thing to do, though.” She gives me a very motherly cluck of her tongue. “I’m trying to tell you this as your—”
“Sister, yes, I know.” I shake my head. “But I’m trying to tell you—”
“Not as your sister.” She reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. “As your friend. And as someone who’s been around this business for a long time—”
“I’m not going to let him hurt me.” I shrug. “I don’t want a relationship with him any more than he wants one with me. I just want a good…fling.” My laugh sounds almost like a giggle, and I wonder again what the hell is wrong with me.
“And you can have a fling. I’m all for you doing whatever it is you want. Really.” She glances over her shoulder again, probably trying to make sure Pax isn’t around to hear whatever lecture it is she has in store for me now. “I don’t know why you can’t understand this, Sophia. I really don’t.”
“Well, I don’t.” I give her my most innocent smile. “I’ve already said I’m just going to have a bit of fun—”
“Okay, look. His band is about to go on tour. As soon as this issue of Celebrity Spark goes to press this week, the whole world is going to be watching him.”
“And…?”
Her eyes widen in frustration. “And, if you’re hanging around him, the whole world will be watching you.”
“And…?” I give her another shrug. “Victoria, I think I can handle myself with the press.”
“Really.” Her voice is flat, and there’s no question in what she’s said. “I think if you asked any of your brothers—”
“I don’t care. Let the world have their double standards. Besides, I don’t plan on being seen with him. I’m just going to—what do you call it? Hang out?” I nod. “Yes, I’m just going to hang out with him. And like I said, I’m a grown woman. It isn’t as though you can stop me.” I have to smile again. “Besides, you promised your husband there would be no stories about the royal family involved with you going back to work. And if I’m not mistaken, I am a member of the royal family. Therefore, you can’t—”
“You’re really going to do this? To me?” She shakes her head. “What the hell has gotten into you Sophia? You know this ends in disaster, right?”
My stomach twists with a bit of guilt—I do love Victoria, and under normal circumstances I would never do anything like I’m doing now. I’m still not sure why I’m doing this at all, but all I can say is that it feels right.
“Well, I have been saying I need a little excitement in my life.” And after the way Pax just rubbed his cock against me as he kissed me, I doubt sincerely there is anything little about the excitement I’m going to have very soon with him.
She only blinks at me as she drops her hand from my arm.
I grin at her again, taking a few steps back. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to resign my position, Victoria. But thank you for the opportunity.”
“I’m going back to the hotel, Sophia. We can discuss this later over dinner.”
I give her a slight shake of my head before I spin on my heel, and I don’t look back. I have no intention of discussing any part of this with anyone.
Part of me knows I’m going to regret this decision eventually. But I’m safe, at least for the moment. Andrew would never forgive Victoria if she reported that I was having an affair with Pax Donovan. And the odds of me being seen with him for only a one-night stand are tiny—infinitesimal, even. Especially if all we do is go to his place.
I walk back to the green room and find Pax sitting on one of the sofas, chatting with one of his bandmates. I have no idea what his name is—nor do I care.
It only takes Pax a moment to see me in the doorway, and he stands, smiling as he walks over to me. “You ditch your boss?”
“I did.” I lift my chin to look up into his eyes—how did I not notice how gorgeous they were before now? Chocolate brown with little flecks of gold. I could die in those eyes. I could—
His voice interrupts my thoughts, but I don’t hear what it is he’s said.
“Well?” He lifts a hand to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb until it comes to rest on my bottom lip.
I don’t even know what I’m doing or what it is he’s asked me, but I flick his thumb with my tongue before I suck it between my lips.
He groans before he speaks under his breath. “Goddamn.” He glances over his shoulder then looks back down at me as he slowly slides his finger from my mouth. “We need to go.”
My chest is already heaving, and I feel like my body is on fire. I’m sure I’ve never wanted a man this much in my life. And I’m not sure I can wait until we get back to his place to have him.
He flicks his head to the doorway behind me, and slides his arms around my waist as he backs me through the exit. It’s only a moment before he has me pushed up against a wall just outside the room, his body pressed against mine.
Pax dips his head to my ear as his hand slides down my back to my ass. “I have one rule, Sophia. I don’t share.”
My hands find his chest and I grab at his shirt. “Neither do I.”
He laughs. “Very funny.”
“I wasn’t kidding.”
Everything seems to slow for a moment as he looks down into my eyes. “If we do this—”
“We’re doing this.” I wrap my leg around his to pull him even closer.
Something changes in his expression. He seems almost uncertain of himself for a split second. “I mean it, though. I haven’t done this in a while—”
“Last night being ‘a while’?” I can’t help but give him a wry grin. “I don’t care. I really don’t. I—”
“I mean… I haven’t…” He lets out a long breath, releasing his grip on me as he takes a step away. He looks me up and down, his eyes resting a moment too long on my breasts before he finally gazes into my eyes. “Call your sugar daddy and end it.” He pulls a phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Do it now.”
“Sugar…daddy?” I tilt my head. “You want me to call my father?”
He laughs. “Where did you say you were from?”
I hand the phone back to him. “I didn’t.”
He shakes his head. “Sugar daddy. The man who’s taking care of you.” He glances down at my breasts again. “You know.”
“But I don’t know.” I can feel my forehead wrinkle in confusion. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chuckles, holding the phone back out to me. “You need to call the man who pays your bills. The man you sleep with who buys you all the nice things you’re wearing. Tell him you’re not coming home tonight. And probably not tomorrow night, either. In fact…” He grins. “Tell him you’re not coming home again.”
“I…” I look down at the phone and back up at him before it finally dawns on me what he’s talking about. “You think I’m a prostitute?”
“No. Of course not. I know it’s a thing. The whole letting-an-old-guy-take-care-of-you thing.” He shrugs. “I don’t really care what you do. But if you’re going to hang out with me, I need to know you’re not sneaking off with him to do whatever it is he likes to have done.” He smiles. “If you know what I mean.”
“So…you think I’m sleeping with a man to have him buy me…what? Clothes?”
He glances down at the floor before he looks back up at me with a smile. “Sophia, those shoes cost more than most people make in a month. You can’t tell me you bought those on your assistant salary.”
“Right. My shoes.” I glance down at them. I suppose they probably do cost more than most people make in a month, but it isn’t something I give much thought to. How the hell do I explain that? It isn’t as though I can just come out and tell him that I’m a princess and I can buy whatever I want—if it isn’t given to me by the designer to wear for free, of course.
“And these clothes…” He lifts a finger to the sleeve of my blouse, tracing along the edge before he trails his hand down my arm. “They cost more
than the shoes.”
“And so what if they did? It doesn’t mean I sleep with men to get them.”
“Did you steal them then?” He lifts a brow, but I can see by his smile that he’s toying with me.
“And what if I did?” I try to match his expression, but the fear that’s pounding in my chest is making it difficult to do anything. I’m not sure why I feel like I need to hide my title, but Pax doesn’t seem like the type of celebrity who would want to be around another. Even if it was only for one night.
He shoves his phone back in his pocket. “I will get to the bottom of this.” He takes another step toward me, sliding his arms back to where they were as he grabs my ass. “Though this bottom is much more interesting to me at the moment.”
Pax
I lean down and kiss her hungrily, trying to forget about whatever poor shmuck is paying her bills. He must not be very generous—or very good in bed—if she’s willing to throw him over so easily, but that’s not my problem. It’s the shmuck’s fault for thinking he could buy a woman like this.
As my mouth moves against hers, she grips my back, her fingers digging into me. I grab her thigh and pull her leg back around me, locking us together.
She’s just as hungry as I am. Her hips grind against mine as she bites down on my lip, and I groan into her mouth. Fuck me, I can’t even think straight around her.
I grab her shirt and yank at it, trying to pull it open with one hand. Two of the buttons go flying off, landing on the ground at least ten feet away.
Sophia laughs and presses her body even closer. “Easy, there.”
“Do you really want me to go easier?” I growl.
As hot as I am, though, I’m confused again. I just tore the buttons off a designer shirt and she didn’t even blink. She doesn’t seem the least bit upset about me damaging something so expensive.
Gold diggers usually care more about their fancy things, I think. Even if they know the shmuck paying their bills will just replace them. When you’re willing to put up with some creepy old fuck to get sparkly things and designer labels, you protect those treasures with your life. You know exactly what they cost you—being at the beck and call of some repulsive bag of wrinkly balls. Even if she stole them, she seems weirdly blasé about the whole thing.
Something isn’t right here. I break the kiss, pulling back to look down at her. She frowns up at me, her half-lidded eyes still filled with desire.
“Why’d you stop?” she asks.
“Because I’m trying to figure you out,” I tell her. If she isn’t fucking some old rich guy, then that only leaves a couple of options. “Did you steal this shirt?”
“Is that what you want me to say?” she asks playfully. “Is this some sort of roleplaying thing? I’m a criminal and you’re the police officer?”
“I’m being serious,” I tell her.
Her smile falls, replaced by a look of confusion. “You really want to have this conversation right now?”
I slide my hand inside her open shirt, finding her breast. “In my experience, women with fancy things care about those fancy things. I once made a girl cry because I got dirt on her expensive heels.” I squeeze her breast, drawing a soft whimper from her. “Dirt. On a pair of fucking shoes.”
“And your point is?” she manages breathlessly.
“People who aren’t used to having expensive things are very protective of those things when they do get them.” I rub my thumb against the lace of her bra, finding her nipple. It instantly hardens to a firm little bud under my touch.
“…and?” It’s more of a gasp than a word.
“And I’m guessing that means you’re used to having expensive things. Very used to it.” I pinch her nipple between my fingers. “You don’t need a sugar daddy because you were born into money, weren’t you?”
An obstinate look flashes across her face, and she opens her mouth like she might argue with me, but she doesn’t.
“Is that a problem?” she says finally.
“Nope,” I tell her honestly. Better than knowing I’d have to share her. And let’s face it—there are plenty of advantages to fucking a rich girl. Especially one who’s young and innocent and looking for a way to rebel against her father. It doesn’t exactly explain why she’s working as an assistant, but who knows—maybe getting a “real” job is something bored rich girls do for fun. Or, more likely, she sees it as a stepping stone to her own celebrity career—she probably wants to be an actress or model or something. Dreamers like that are always fun.
Yeah, I think I may have hit the jackpot here.
Before she can say another word, I attack her mouth again. She gets over her surprise quickly, especially when I give her nipple another twist. Her leg tightens around me, pulling my hips more firmly against hers.
Poor little rich girl, I think, my tongue probing into her mouth. If she wants to prove to her family that she’s not their perfect little princess, then I’m only too happy to help. The rebellious ones are always the best lays—they’ll let you do anything you want in bed, as if trying more sexual positions makes them more independent or something.
And from the way this one is clinging to me, ready to let me fuck her right here against this wall, I know she’s definitely one of the adventurous ones.
I release her breast, and she whimpers in protest.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” I murmur against her lips. “I’ll get you there.”
I drop my hand to her skirt, helping push it the rest of the way up her thighs. Then I slide my hand beneath the fabric, reaching for her panties. They’re lace, just like her bra. I press my fingers against them. Warm and damp. A tremor shivers through her body.
I kiss her as my hand glides along the lace, feeling the shape of her through the fabric. She writhes against me, her body begging for more.
My fingers slip beneath the edge of her panties. I’m not surprised to find her slick and ready for me—I know I wasn’t the only one ready to dive headfirst into this. I pull my hand back and grapple with my belt.
I’ve only just gotten it undone when someone clears their throat behind me. I know that sound. I’ve heard it dozens of times before.
“Dammit, Mick,” I say without turning my head. “We’re a little busy here.” Sophia has already unhooked her leg from around me, and now she’s shoving her skirt back down. Damn it.
I spin around, reading to tear my manager a new one, but he just stares me down, completely immune to my glare. He’s caught me in far worse situations before.
Why is every single person in this fucking studio determined to be a cockblock?
“Feel free to keep doing whatever you’re doing,” Mick says. “I just thought you’d want to know your sister is here.”
My sister? What the… Fuck. I completely forgot. I run a hand through my hair. My youngest sister just transferred to UCLA for the spring semester, and I promised I’d take her out to dinner before we left on tour. It completely slipped my mind that our plans were for tonight, and that I told her I’d meet her here. I don’t have the headspace to keep track of everything on my schedule—that’s what Mick is for.
I glance back at Sophia. She’s tucking her shirt into her skirt, trying to hide the gaps caused by the missing buttons.
Fuck, couldn’t Molly have been ten minutes late? That would have given Sophia and me just enough time to sneak in a hot quickie, and at least that would have taken the edge off. Right now, my cock is still so hard it hurts.
Sophia catches me watching her, and she gives me a smile.
“Don’t worry, I get it,” she says. “Family comes first.”
I know that look she’s giving me. That look says that she had fun, but she knows what this is—a fling. A hot, meaningless thing. That look means that if she walks out that door, I might never see her again. She’ll get home, applaud herself for doing something a little crazy, and convince herself that this was enough of a rebellion for today.
I can’t let her walk out that door.
I’m not done with her yet.
“Come with us,” I blurt. “We’re just going to Antonia’s.” The minute the words leave my mouth, I’m sure I’ve made a mistake. Inviting a girl to dinner gives her the wrong idea. Inviting her to dinner with family is even worse.
But then I start thinking about sneaking away with her while we’re waiting for the appetizers…leading her into an empty bathroom stall, fucking her up against the door… My cock’s not ready to let go of this one yet.
Sophia shakes her head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding,” I say. “We all have to eat, don’t we?” I turn to Mick. “Tell Molly I’ll be right there.”
Mick nods, but I can tell that even he’s surprised I’ve invited this chick I’ve just met to dinner with my sister.
When he’s gone, I turn back to Sophia. I trap her up against the wall, one hand on either side of her head.
“Come on,” I tell her huskily. “Are you really ready to walk away already?”
“I never said anything about walking away,” she says.
“Good,” I tell her. “Because I’m fucking you tonight. Multiple times.” My eyes drift down her throat, toward her neckline. The swell of her breasts is visible above the open collar of her shirt. “Mick will buy us a few minutes. We can just…”
She grabs my hand as I reach for her buttons. “I just got redressed.”
“Then come to dinner,” I say. “We can fuck over the sink in the men’s’ room. That way I can watch your face in the mirror as I take you from behind.”
I feel another shiver move through her, but she shakes her head. “I’d feel weird…”
“There’s nothing to feel weird about. Molly’s cool. She won’t care. And you need dinner, too, don’t you?” I tuck my finger under her chin. “You’ll need your energy for later.”
She still looks as if she might refuse, so I lean forward, pressing my hips against hers so she can feel how hard I still arm.
“Come on, sweetheart.” I brush my lips against the side of her neck, just below her ear.
“O…kay,” she says in a shaky rush of breath.