by Amity Cross
“Do you have Harry’s number?” I asked, a plan formulating in my mind. “And can I have him all to myself tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Sebastian eyed me with amusement. “Your wish is his command, or however it goes.”
He took out his phone and opened the contact, texting me the number for his assistant. When my phone buzzed, I copied Harry into my contact list.
“Thanks.” I patted him on the leg. “You want to order some food? I’ve got to make a call.”
I slid off the couch and Sebastian watched me with a curious grin as I ventured out onto the balcony. Cold air kissed my cheeks as I leaned against the balustrade, the sprawling metropolis of Sydney stretching before me.
I slid the door closed, glancing at Sebastian through the glass, but he was already on the phone to room service. Pressing the number for my newly acquired ‘genie in a bottle’, I waited as the call connected.
He answered straight away. “Harry speaking.”
“Harry? It’s Juniper.”
“Miss Rowe. Is everything okay?”
“Okay, step one, please call me Juniper. Step two…I have a mission, if you chose to accept it.”
9
Juniper
I stared at my refection in the bathroom mirror and tilted my head from side to side.
As the makeup artist and hairstylist left, Harry knocked on the door. “Miss Rowe? Err…I mean… Juniper?”
I smirked and shook my head, my hair feeling strange. It’d been slicked back on the sides and pinned in place, and I had a faux quiff mohawk thing going on. There was so much hairspray holding it all together, it felt like I was wearing a helmet, but fuck, it was sexy. My makeup was flawless, all airbrushed foundation that hid my freckles. Silvery smoky eyes stared back at me and I blinked, the fake eyelashes feeling heavy.
There was another knock at the door.
“Yeah?” I called out.
“Mr. Hale has arrived.”
Shit. That meant it was almost time to go.
Giving myself another once over, I smoothed my palms over the black dress I’d found that afternoon with Harry’s help. He’d taken me to David Jones, a posh department store in the city that had a lot of designer brands in stock. A personal shopper pulled a thousand and one things for me to try on, and amongst all the no’s I found the one yes.
I hoped it was okay for the release party, but it was too late to back out now.
Opening the bathroom door, I smiled at Harry.
“You’re going to do great tonight,” he said.
“Thanks.” I patted him on the chest. “And thank you for today. I really appreciate your help.”
“It was a pleasure.” He glanced down the hall to where I knew Sebastian was waiting. “Have a good evening.”
“You too, Harry.”
I waited until he was gone before I made my way into the room. The heels were unfamiliar on my feet and my toes jammed uncomfortably at the tips. If only combat boots went with red carpets. In my dreams.
“How do I look?” I asked, stepping into the light.
Sebastian’s gaze locked onto mine and his expression fell. “Holy fuck.”
I flushed and glanced at my feet. I’d never dressed up like this before. Not with the hair and makeup, and especially not the clothes.
I wore a black leather-look-a-like mini dress, with capped sleeves and mesh inserts, and a deep scooped neckline that showed off my cleavage. The waist was cut so it gave the illusion that I was wearing a corset, without all the associated pain. A pair of black heels with silver spikes and all-over studs and a matching necklace and earring set finished off the ensemble.
Sebastian strode forward and pulled me against him, his arms slipping around my back. I hadn’t even noticed what he was wearing, but he smelt amazing—all soap and spice and Sebastian.
I breathed deeply, my fingers curling into the silky lapels of his black suit jacket.
“I’m hard just looking at you,” he murmured into my ear.
“Really?” I squeaked.
He kissed my neck, his stubble rasping against my skin. “You smell like a fucking vanilla bean.”
I laughed, my uncertainty fading away.
He pulled back and raised his hands to my face, his fingers brushing lightly over my cheeks. Stormy eyes drank me in, like he was committing all my features to memory. When his phone buzzed, he drew back and checked the screen.
“The car’s here,” he said, smoothing down his jacket. “Are you ready?”
I gave myself one last look in the mirror. “As I’ll ever be.”
Outside, a black limousine with tinted windows was waiting for us. As we approached, the doorman held open the rear door and Sebastian held my hand as I climbed inside. He followed, then we were alone and the car took off, gliding seamlessly into the evening traffic.
“Fuck,” Sebastian said, “I wish we didn’t have to go tonight. These things are always so stuffy and uptight.”
“It’s a necessary evil, I suppose,” I said. “Maybe you should turn it to your advantage.”
“How?”
“Sow the seeds of your new perfect life.”
“I’d rather be sowing my seed in something else,” he said wickedly.
My gaze fell to his crotch where I could see the faint outline of his erection pressing against his trousers. I licked my lips, remembering when I’d taken him in the shower. I’d been on my knees, the water pounding on my back, and his taste on my tongue was like honey—filthy fucking honey.
“No,” he said. “As much as I love your mouth around my cock, I want you to ride me, Juniper.”
“In the car?” I glanced towards the driver, but he was closed off in the front where we couldn’t see him. “But…”
“He can’t see or hear.”
“Have we got time?” I glanced out the window.
“Hey,” he said into the intercom, “we’re not quite ready yet. Can you circle for fifteen?”
The speaker crackled, then the driver’s voice echoed back. “Of course, Mr. Hale.”
“We’ve got as much time as we want,” he said to me. “When you walked out… Shit. I should’ve done you then.”
I started to tremble, my core throbbing in anticipation. This was wild and oh-so dangerous. Our gazes met, and I sucked in a sharp breath as the air crackled with desire.
I wanted him. I wanted to feel the thrill of doing something daring and illicit so close to other people.
“Take off your dress,” he commanded, his expression darkening.
Reaching behind me, I tugged down the zipper as he unclipped our seatbelts. I shimmied out of the black fabric, cool air kissing my bare skin.
“You got fucking lingerie too?” Sebastian’s fingers hooked into my underwear.
“I thought you’d like it.”
“I more than like it,” he growled and pulled off the little scrap of lace that covered my sex and slipped a finger between my folds.
“You paid for it too,” I added with a gasp.
“That’s my girl.”
I moved against his palm as his free hand fumbled with his fly, then his cock was out, hard and ready. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a condom.
I watched him rip open the packet and roll it over his length, my thoughts going to a dark place. His reputation, his highly publicised antics…
“This was for you,” he murmured, watching my expression. “I knew I was going to fuck you sometime tonight. I just didn’t know when.”
He was with me. It was for me. His cock was hard for me.
A spark of passion flared inside me and I straddled his lap, my heels still on my feet and my lacy bra still covering my breasts. I hovered over Sebastian, my hand grasping his cock as I guided him towards my opening. Then I lowered onto him, taking all I could.
He filled me, inch by inch, until we were completely joined. My hands tightened around his shoulders and I gasped as he moved beneath me.
“I need you,” he murmured, lost in his plea
sure. He yanked down the cups of my bra, exposing my breasts and latched onto me, kissing and biting my nipples. “Only you.”
That’s when I began to move, my desire too much to hold on to.
I rode him hard, working my hips as he guided me over his cock. Spearing my fingers into his hair, I pulled, forcing his head back. I bit at his exposed neck as he thrust into me from beneath, forgetting we were in the back of a limousine driving through the busy Sydney streets.
“Juniper,” Sebastian moaned, “you feel so fucking good.”
“Don’t stop.” I panted, working my core over his, and cried out when his fingers found my clit.
I threw my head back, my spine arching, and before I knew what was happening, I was lying on the opposite seat. My legs were spread wide with Sebastian between them, and his cock pushing back into my slickness. His hands covered my breasts as he curled over me, fucking me hard and fast.
“Juniper,” he moaned, “you’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”
My orgasm slammed into me, tearing through my body in exquisite waves. Sebastian felt it and his movements jerked as he pulsed within me, emptying his reckless passion with every grunt that escaped his lips.
We were locked like that for a long moment, his hands on my breasts, his cock deep inside me, our breathing coming in sharp waves.
When he pulled out and disposed of the condom, I felt empty. His touch was a drug, an addiction, and the pain of him leaving my body was almost too much to take.
He arranged himself in his boxers and did up his fly, then helped me back into my dress, making sure the zipper was in place before smoothing his fingers through my hair.
“Perfect,” he said, handing me my bag. “Every fucking part.”
Opening my purse, I took out the compact the makeup artist had given me for touchups, and I checked that I hadn’t smeared anything across my face. I patted my nose with the pressed powder and snapped the little case closed.
“You have a skill,” I declared. “My makeup hasn’t budged.”
“Your makeup artist has a skill,” he corrected with a frown.
The intercom crackled, saving us from another awkward conversation about his past sexual promiscuity.
“Mr. Hale, we’ve arrived,” the driver announced.
“Are you okay with getting your photo taken?” Sebastian asked as he grasped my hand.
I nodded, trying my best to wrangle my nerves. “Harry took me through what’s expected.” My lips quirked as I remembered the impromptu modelling class he’d given me back at the hotel. “That man needs a raise.”
Sebastian tightened his grip, his eyebrows raising. “I’ll take it into consideration.”
“This is it,” I said, staring out the window at the red carpet beyond. “They’re finally going to get their official picture of us together.”
“Are you regretting leaping with me?”
I cupped his cheek and ran my thumb over his lips. “There was no going back the moment I met you.”
I wasn’t Sandra Dee anymore. I was Juniper fucking Rowe.
If the world wanted a wild, rocker girlfriend on the arm of the music industry’s king of bad boys, then that’s what they were going to get.
Don’t lose sight of the prize, I thought as the car came to a stop outside the venue. Give ‘em hell.
Sebastian grinned, his lips brushing over mine. “Then let’s declare it to the world. You and me, Juni.”
“You and me,” I echoed.
Sebastian knocked against the window and the door opened, letting in the sounds of the waiting fans and media. He got out first and screams erupted as the waiting throng got their glimpse of their rock god hero. Then he turned and held out his hand towards me.
This was it. The point of no return.
Smiling, I slipped my palm into his and climbed gracefully out of the limousine and stepped into my new life.
The rest was a blur as we walked from the car. Sebastian stopped and signed some autographs and took some selfies, and a few people shot jealous glares at me as I stood to the side, waiting patiently. Every so often, Sebastian would look back at me with a secret smile, or he would take my hand for a moment before he moved onto the next group of excited fans.
When he was done, we walked hand in hand to the red carpet. As we stood in front of the long wall plastered with company logos—Beneath’s record label included—the flashing cameras blinded us.
I trembled as Sebastian’s grip tightened on my waist, my thoughts going back to what we’d just done in the back of the limousine. I could still feel the ghost of him inside me as photographers shouted at us.
“Sebastian! Over here!”
“Sebastian! Sebastian!”
“Juniper! Show us your dress!”
I blinked and glanced at Sebastian, who was pulling away.
“Don’t leave me,” I hissed.
“They want a photo of your dress,” he said with a laugh. “You’re hot property now, Miss Rowe. You’ll be on ET tomorrow.”
“What? Wait!” I stumbled slightly and turned back to the wall of photographers.
“Juniper! Who are you wearing?”
“Juniper! Show us the back!”
“Juniper!”
Taking a deep breath, I remembered what Harry had taught me and I posed, showing off the clothes and before long, I was being ushered forward and Sebastian was taking my arm.
“Quick and painless, huh?”
“They know who I am,” I whispered. “I’m just a small-town nobody…”
“You’re a somebody now,” Sebastian said. “Everyone is going to know your name by tomorrow.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that. Maybe I need to be drunk?”
“Good thinking. Let’s get a drink.” He grabbed my hand and led me towards the door, bypassing a cordoned-off area that held more waiting media. This time they had microphones and TV cameras.
“Don’t you need to stop and talk to them?” I asked, glancing at the reporters who were shouting at us, desperately trying to get our attention.
“Not tonight,” he said, his lips thinning. “They already get too much of me.”
I allowed him to lead me into the exclusive nightclub, the doors opening to us simply because of who he was.
Inside, the lighting was dark and moody, the booths lit with pinkish-red hues. Tracks from Beneath’s new album were playing over the sound system, mixed with older songs and those from other Galaxy Records artists. As a new song began, I recognised it was from one of my favourite Aussie bands, The Devil’s Tattoo. So far, so good.
Turning my attention to the people milling about, I was surprised to see so many bodies crammed into the club at such an early hour. This party was the hottest ticket in town.
Waitresses were walking through the darkness, dressed like dominatrixes with leather corsets, fishnet stockings, and thigh-high latex boots. Black eye makeup and vampy red lips finished off the look. I raised an eyebrow as a woman bent over a table in front of us, giving the room an eyeful of her downstairs area as she handed out drinks to the waiting customers.
Sebastian didn’t seem to be paying attention, which gave me the idea that this was a common theme with Beneath—sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. They were wild, didn’t give a shit what people thought, and lived to excess. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised this place looked like a sex club, but I did feel a little uncomfortable standing in it.
As we approached the bar, the waiting crowd parted for us. All eyes were glued to Sebastian, and I could see they were itching to get five seconds with him. Guys were trying to thrust out their hands so they could shake his, women were trussing up their breasts, but whatever look he had on his face seemed to deter them.
As soon as the staff realised Sebastian was standing there, a bartender approached us, dropping what he was doing. Spotting me, the guy took a pre-made drink off a tray and slid it towards me.
“It’s Sin/Sex themed,” he said, offering me the martini glass. He sm
iled, seeming to ignore the fact that the Sebastian Hale was standing all up in my personal space. “For the ladies.”
I held up the red cocktail and ran my finger over the sugar-dusted rim and raised my eyebrows at Sebastian.
“It’s fucking pretentious if you ask me,” he said with a scowl. “It’s all to arse lick the corporates.”
“Pucker up,” I said, lifting the glass to my lips. The strong taste of alcohol infused with cranberry hit my tongue and I shivered. “Your sex tastes amazing.”
“That bartender wouldn’t mind tasting yours,” he said pursing his lips together.
“Pfft,” I scoffed. “Don’t pout.”
“He didn’t even take my fucking order.”
I laughed and glanced down the bar. “No, he didn’t, did he?” I basked in my thirty seconds of sexual power and took another sip of my cocktail.
He cursed under his breath and gestured to the bartender, barking his order. The guy poured a glass of something dark and sexy looking, and sheepishly handed it to Sebastian along with a thousand apologies.
“Want to dance?” he asked, nodding towards the dance floor.
“God, no.” I shuddered. “I have two left feet.”
“Then let’s find the VIP area so we can hide.”
“You really dislike these things, huh?”
“With the fire of a thousand suns.”
The moment we moved away from the bar, a man thrust his hand towards Sebastian and he was forced to shake it.
“Sebastian,” he said, “it’s good to see you again.”
His eyes narrowed and he threw me an exasperated glance. “Juniper, this is Grayson Newcomb. He’s a producer who works with Galaxy Records.”
“Oh.” I smiled and held out my hand towards him. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, Juniper.” Grayson shook my hand and looked me over before turning to Sebastian, dismissing me as unimportant. “I wanted to grab a few minutes of your time, if you’ve got a moment to talk?”
Sebastian glanced at me, and I nodded.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You talk. I’ll have a walk around and see what I can find.”
“You sure?” He squeezed my hand.