by Ella Frank
Priest arched a brow at Robbie and took his chin between his fingers. “Behave.”
“Aww, where’s the fun in that?”
“Do you want the rest of your surprise or not?”
Robbie pouted. “Not fair.”
“Yet effective all the same.”
“Fine, I’ll behave.” Robbie turned back to face Logan. “Do you know what my surprise is?”
“I do.”
“Robert,” Priest said.
Robbie’s spine stiffened and a flush stained his cheeks, then he tapped a finger to Logan’s nose. “Be thankful I want my surprise more than to torture you.”
“So thankful,” Logan said, then he looked at me. “You better have a really big fucking surprise waiting for me when we land.”
I grinned and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I have something extra big for you.”
Robbie’s eyes glinted as he waggled his eyebrows at us.
“Okay, you,” Logan said. “Your seat is free over there. Go bother your husbands.”
Robbie patted Logan’s cheek and then jumped up off his lap. “Okay. But if you need me, I’ll be right over here.”
“I’ll try to contain myself.”
I snorted, and Logan shook his head. “You are far too amused by my suffering right now.”
“Nooo.” I cradled his cheek and leaned in. Unable to resist the lure of one more taste before we took off, I slipped my tongue between his lips and sank into the delicious taste that was uniquely Logan. “I never enjoy making you suffer.”
Logan’s eyes darkened as he nipped my lower lip. “Liar. You’re the biggest tease I know.”
“And you love it.” I reached down and tightened the belt over his lap.
“Maybe a little.”
“Maybe a whole fucking lot. Now, get through this flight and I promise to tease you a whole lot more the second the door shuts behind us at the hotel tonight.”
As the plane taxied toward the runway, Logan threaded his fingers through my hair. “Promise?”
“Do you doubt me?”
He fingered one of my curls. “Not ever.”
“Good, because we’re going to have a great weekend.”
“If we get there.”
I grinned against Logan’s lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I know. Otherwise you’d never be sitting here about to take off into the sky.”
Logan groaned. “Really, Tate? I was just starting to forget where I was.”
“Hmm. Let’s see if I can help with that.”
As the engines fired up and the plane barreled down the runway, I took Logan’s lips in a fierce kiss meant to distract him. I must’ve done a good job, too, because Logan didn’t say a damn thing again until the belt sign flicked off, and he offered to…release me. It was a tempting offer, but I decided a good case of frustration would help distract him through the rest of the flight. Also, he was right—I loved to tease him.
Five
Paige
“PAIGE? I THINK you need to come deal with this.”
I adjusted the microphone on my headset and looked across the arena to where my assistant, Jasmine, was supposed to be covering the soundcheck for Trent Knox and Fallen Angel. “What’s the problem?”
“Uh—”
A loud crash cut off her words as something fell over on the stage, and I cursed. “On my way,” I said, passing my clipboard off to another member of my event team. “Make sure the catering area is set up for Julien Thornton’s arrival tomorrow, and check on the status of the ice rink.”
Major events like this were what I was made for, and though nothing ever ran smoothly, today was already one for the books. We’d been working around the clock, but apparently no one else in L.A. seemed to feel the urgency, because every damn delivery had been late, throwing the schedule into chaos. Mercury retrograde was fucking with me. That was the only explanation. But like I’d let a grumpy planet ruin my masterpiece of a party. Hell no. Not on my watch.
I could feel the tension growing the closer I got to the stage, where Viper of Fallen Angel seemed to be facing off against his old bandmate, judging by the scowl on his face and the defensive posturing.
As I approached the stage, Jasmine sidled up beside me.
“I think they might kill each other,” she whispered, hugging her chest.
I lifted a brow. “What makes you think that?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” came a roar that echoed around the arena thanks to the live mic positioned in front of Viper. His words seemed to be directed at Trent, who stood on the opposite side of the stage rolling his eyes.
“What’s the problem now, Viper?” Trent said, not seeming at all bothered. “Not getting enough attention? Do we need to stop so your ego can be center stage, or can we get this soundcheck done?”
“Hard to do when you fucked with Halo’s amp.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. If anyone’s ego needs to be checked, it’s yours.”
Trent ripped off his guitar as he started toward Viper, and whoa, buddy, this was gonna get ugly fast. I ran up the stairs to the stage and—probably not the smartest idea—planted myself smack in the middle of Viper and Trent.
“Guys, can we delay this bloodbath by a couple more days? I’ve got an epic charity event to pull off, and I kind of need you. You know. Alive. Preferably with faces intact.”
“This was a shit idea,” Viper grumbled, crossing his arms over the strap of his guitar.
Killian, the bassist for Fallen Angel, and usually the voice of reason, rubbed his hand over his face. “What happened to a truce? I thought we’d all cleared the air—”
“You really expect Trent to follow through on anything?” Viper said.
“I swear to God—” Trent started forward again, but lucky me, I blocked him, pushing against his chest with my hand and trying not to notice how built said chest was. Damn.
Behind me, Halo was speaking in a low tone to Viper, trying to calm his boyfriend down, while the other members of Fallen Angel, Slade and Jagger, looked on at the scene with amusement on their faces, like they’d seen this play out before a million times. Now I realized why Trent had walked out on the band and forged his own identity—there was nothing like a clash of egos to make things contentious.
Unfortunately for these guys, I wasn’t putting up with that bullshit.
“If anyone is about to give a beat-down here, it’s gonna be me, you got that?” I took my time giving each guy a withering look—the one my husband, Dawson, said could make a guy’s balls climb up into their body. Useful in times like these.
When no one dared to respond, I continued. “Listen, what I need from you is a couple of songs. A simple collaboration, a handful of minutes to appease the thousands of people paying an insane amount of money to see you come together tomorrow. Surely we don’t need to waste time talking about whose dick is bigger.”
“No, we don’t,” Viper said. “We all know it’s mine.”
“Viper. Jesus.” Halo shook his head as Viper smirked.
“Yes, Jesus agrees.”
“Seriously don’t need to know that,” I said, though I filed away a Google search for Viper nudes for later. Research purposes and all. “Go back to your places and let’s take it from the top.” When the guys all kept standing there exchanging looks, I raised a brow. “Right the fuck now would be fantastic.”
Not daring to leave the stage yet, I walked over to Halo’s setup at the front, a few feet away from Trent’s.
“What’s this about an amp?” I asked.
“It’s fine. It was just unplugged.” Halo adjusted the mic in front of him and shrugged. “Probably an accident.”
“Can I count on you to try to keep the peace? Or do I need to hire some seven-feet-tall babysitters to keep you all in check?”
Halo quirked a smile and ran his hand over his signature blond curls. He was such a stark contrast to the rest of the guys, all o
f whom were dark and moody (and sexy as hell too, but that was beside the point). No wonder Viper called him an angel. He definitely looked like one all lit up under the stage lights. “I’ll keep him leashed, how about that?”
“Leash, handcuffs, do what you need to.” I headed down the stairs and joined Jasmine.
She leaned in and whispered, “I can’t believe you just talked to them like that.”
“These guys like a strong hand, trust me.”
“A strong hand where?”
I winked. “Exactly.”
As the guys tuned their instruments, I checked my watch and ran through the list of immediate things needing my attention once I got these guys off.
Well…in a manner of speaking.
Halo and Trent looked at each other, counting down as Viper glared at the back of Trent’s head. Once the song began, I breathed a sigh of relief, though we weren’t out of the woods yet. I stayed to watch as Halo and Trent volleyed lyrics back and forth, their voices strong and blending together better than I’d imagined after being at each other’s throats. Well, maybe not the two of them, per se, but it was still a matter of opposites attracting, so maybe that was what had Viper all fired up. Nothing like good chemistry to make someone throw a shitfit.
As the song came to a close, Jasmine and I began to clap, with the rest of the workers in the arena stopping to join in.
“See that?” I said. “Perfect. So can you all just go to your corners now and do that again tomorrow? And try not to kill or maim each other before then? Thanks so much.”
As I backed away from the stage, content to check this incident off my list, a crackle came over my headset and then, “Paige? I need you outside. The ice sculptures are here, and they’re not the candy canes you asked for.”
“No? What did they send instead? Ice presents? Ice trees?”
“Try ice dicks.”
I sighed and grabbed Jasmine’s arm, dragging her across the arena with me.
I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.
Six
Ace
THE WARM SUN slipping through the curtains was the first indication that my sleep was coming to an end. But it was the alarm clock hitting nine thirty and the familiar sound of Andy Williams’ “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” that really confirmed it.
Not that I was complaining—with Dylan pressed up against my side and his arm and leg thrown across my body as though he were holding me captive, waking up was actually one of my favorite times of the day.
“Wakey wakey, Daydream,” I whispered, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
Dylan let out a sexy little groan and stretched. “Don’t wanna.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“But we have guests coming over.”
“Don’t care.” He snuggled into my side, his warm lips kissing their way across my chest. “I was having the most delicious dream about this hotshot movie star, and how I swept him off his feet and into my bed.”
I chuckled as Dylan shifted on the mattress, his mouth now making its way up the side of my neck. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“No?”
“No. But it’s your fantasy. You can dream about anything you want.”
“Oh, thank God because Jason Momoa looked really amazing in my—”
I tackled Dylan to his back, planting a hand on either side of his head. “You better not be dreaming about any movie star other than the one you’re married to.”
Sharp teeth scraped along my jaw line, and any idea I’d had about leaving this bed suddenly left my head.
“Fine,” Dylan said, his beautiful sea-green eyes twinkling with mischief. “But you better give me something to replace the— Ahh.”
His delicious sigh did wonders for my ego, not to mention my dick, as I ground my hips over his.
“What was that you were saying?” I brushed my lips over the top of his.
“Nothing…” Dylan slipped his hands under my boxer briefs to grab at my ass. “I was saying nothing.”
“I don’t know.” Dylan pumped his hips up, and when his hard cock rubbed up along mine, I smirked. “Sounded like you were wishing there was someone else in this bed with you.”
Dylan shook his head on the pillow, his hair all sexy and mussed from sleep. “Nope. You must’ve misheard me.”
I lowered my head and kissed my way along his jaw to his ear. “Liar. I know how hot you are for Momoa. All those muscles, that long hair…”
Dylan’s fingers tightened on my ass, and he turned his face so we were nose to nose. “And? Don’t act like you haven’t made me watch every single Captain America movie ten times over for the storyline. I know you’re checking out America’s ass.”
I grinned and slipped my hand under Dylan’s hips, then I pulled him up flush against me. “I might be, but America’s finest ass is right here in my bed. It’s also legally mine.”
Dylan drew one of his hands from my briefs and ran it up my arm to test my bulging bicep. “And all these muscles are mine to lick, bite, and feel when you get all possessive.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Can you blame me?”
I rolled to my back, taking Dylan with me, and when he put his hands to my chest and sat up, I groaned. Okay, Chris Evans had nothing on my Daydream. In a skimpy pair of his Calvins, the longer strands of his highlighted hair had fallen down to cover his eyes as he ran them all over me, and he was biting into his lower lip as though imagining which part of me he was going to taste next.
I smoothed my hands up his muscled thighs and over his hips, and when I slipped my fingers into the elastic of his waistband, Dylan slapped them away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I narrowed my eyes and repeated the move, and this time Dylan took hold of my wrists. “Uh ah. We have guests coming over.”
As my earlier words came back to haunt me, Dylan rolled his hips once, twice, and then a torturous third time and pushed up from me, swinging his leg over me to climb off the bed. Oh hell no.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get ready, of course.”
How Dylan managed to sound so serious while he stood there in next to nothing, and an erection that had to be throbbing as hard as my own, was beyond me. “What? You have at least two hours until anyone gets here.”
“Exactly. One hour to get the house and food ready, and an hour to get myself ready.”
My mouth fell open as I kicked the sheet down my body. “And what about me? You just spent a good ten minutes getting me ready. What am I supposed to do with this?”
Dylan grinned like a fiend and backed up toward the en suite. “I’m sure you can think of something.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Sorry, Hotshot, but you’re on your own. I have two hours, and anything I start with you would eat into a good portion of that. Come see me after brunch.”
“But then we have to get ready for the event.” Yes…I was whining.
Dylan’s lips twitched as his hand met the handle. “You need a shower?”
Even if I’d been scrubbed down by a hazmat team and scouring brushes, I would’ve been out of that bed and heading toward the en suite.
“I’ve never been dirtier in my life.”
Dylan pushed open the door and stepped aside. “I sure hope so. Five minutes, tops.”
“Make it six, and I don’t care if you wanna be top or bottom.”
Seven
Dylan
DING DONG!
“ACE? Ace? Can you get that?” I took a step back from the table to observe my handiwork and smiled at the festive setup.
A snowy-white tablecloth with a beautiful red and gold runner was draped across our large dining room table, and in the center was a decoration made up of candles, pine cones, and sprigs of holly that would’ve made Martha Stewart proud.
Christmas music softly filled the house thr
ough the insane sound system Ace had installed last year, and as I straightened one of the matching napkins, the doorbell rang again.
“Ace!” I made my way through the main foyer to see Ace jogging down the sweeping staircase.
“I’m here. I’m here,” he said as he reached the final step. “They’re early.”
I glanced at the clock on the far wall and then back to my husband. “No. You’re running late.”
“I couldn’t decide what to wear.”
I checked out his final decision and had to admit that the extra minutes he’d spent on his wardrobe was worth it. In perfectly shined Italian leather shoes, grey fitted slacks, and a black shirt tucked in at his trim waist, Ace’s broad shoulders and spectacular physique were outlined to perfection. He looked classically handsome, effortlessly sexy, and as I stepped aside for him to walk by, I took in a deep inhale—yep, he smelled like a fantasy too.
About to reach the door handle, I called his name.
“Yeah, Daydream?”
I took in a deep breath and then sighed. “How is it that after all this time you still manage to take my breath away?”
The smile that crossed his lips was one that everyone in the world would recognize. But that special sparkle in his blue eyes? That was all for me.
I sidled in close to him, twined my fingers in his, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Yep, that’s it right there. Did anyone ever tell you that you have a smile worth millions?”
Ace chuckled, and just as he was about to answer me, the doorbell rang…again.
“Better get that,” I said, squeezing his fingers. “You have an adoring new fan to meet.”
“Mhmm. I do.”
“And friends to host.”
“That too…”
When I just stood there, Ace leaned in and kissed my cheek, then he whispered in my ear, “You look gorgeous, by the way. Make sure your seat is next to mine at brunch.”
He pulled back and winked at me, and the full force that was Ace Locke hit me with a one-two punch. I sure hoped the young man coming to meet Ace today had sturdy legs, because holy hell, even now he made my knees weak.