“We’re going to Aspen,” I whispered. With Sander James, I thought but didn’t dare say out loud.
“Fuck yeah!” Ferris cheered, and we busted into laughter. Then, we drank.
CHAPTER THREE
* * *
“ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU”
Sander
While packing for Aspen, I thought of ways I could get Wynne alone. Three was definitely a crowd, especially when that third was pain-in-the-ass Bueller. It was apparent that he wanted Wynne. I wasn’t going to let that happen, which meant that I needed to come up with a plan. As tempting as it would be to send him out for wood and then lock him out of the house, I didn’t think Wynne would approve.
My phone rang right as I finished packing. When I saw Ferris’s name scroll across the display I thought about letting the call go to voicemail, but my conscience kicked in and I decided to answer it. It was a good thing I did, because Ferris had news. Apparently, his father had flown in from New Jersey and was surprising him with Christmas at one of the local ski resorts. This meant that he wouldn’t be able to go to Aspen with us. I was crushed. Not. Thankfully, he’d chosen to call me instead of Jayne. Had it been the other way around, Aspen would be a no-go, I would lose my temper, and there would be hell to pay. While Ferris droned on about song choices for the finale, I came up with a plan to cut Jayne out of the loop. If I offered up my personal car service to Ferris and his father, I would be able to control their departure. More importantly, I would be able to keep them away from Jayne. Damn, this was perfect. Fate, the fickle bitch, was shining her luminous smile on me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I was smiling right back at her. After wishing Ferris a Merry Christmas, I ended the call. Then, I planned.
Tomorrow morning, I would make up an excuse to see Jayne. While keeping her occupied, I would have Ferris and his dad whisked out of town. At the same time, Wynne would be deposited at the jetport. By the time Jayne figured out that Ferris wasn’t with us, it would be too late. Ferris couldn’t have given me a better Christmas present if he’d tried. With him now out of the picture, I would be free to pursue Wynne at my leisure. It wasn’t as if the network could really do anything about it. When Jayne informed them that I wanted to take the contestants off campus, they not only refused to pay for it, but they’d had each of us sign documents clearing them of liability if anything should happen. That was before Ferris had bailed, though. If Jayne found out that Ferris wasn’t going and that Wynne and I were going to be alone together, she would lose her mind. I didn’t exactly want on her bad side, but we both knew the truth. Million Dollar Musician was successful because of one reason, and one reason only: me. At the end of the day, a slap on the wrist was well worth five days alone with Wynne.
The next morning, fate did me another favor. While Ferris and his dad departed for the mountains and Wynne was in transit to the plane, Jayne was stuck in traffic. I wasn’t supposed to travel alone, but since the show was technically on a break for the week, I took it upon myself to skirt the rules and call an Uber. Jayne pulled into the studio right as we were driving out. I held my breath as we passed by her. I was fully expecting to see brake lights or hear tires shriek, but when neither occurred, I exhaled the pent-up air from my lungs and relaxed into my seat, giving myself a mental pat on the back. I was a fucking genius. Of course, I’d had years of experience under my belt. Years of skirting the rules and riding that line between right and wrong. Years of bucking authority. This was child’s play in comparison.
On my arrival at the jetport, I was pleased to find Wynne and our luggage already loaded onto the plane. I took a moment to speak to the pilots as well as to inform the stewardess that we wouldn’t be needing her, before heading up the steps.
“This is just . . . wow!” Wynne exclaimed on my entry. Bright blue eyes stared at me, not with disdain or anger, but with trust. Misplaced trust, whispered through my head. Dismissing the thought, I paused for a moment to take her in. What was it about this woman? I’d been with more women than I could remember. I’d even been in love before, but not one of them had managed to pull this potent of a reaction from me. I shifted my gaze to her hair. My fingers itched to release the flaxen mane from its loose knot, to bury my hands in it while I tasted her glossy, lush lips. She crossed her legs, calling my attention to what she was wearing. I wanted to strip her obscenely tight leggings from her body and slowly, inch by fucking inch, sink my aching cock deep inside her. Her eyes widened, as if sensing my wicked thoughts, and she sucked in a harsh breath. Just you wait, my sexy girl.
Advancing in her direction, I asked, “I take it you approve?” Two perfectly sculpted brows shot up as I collapsed onto the sofa beside her. She immediately scooted over.
A minute passed before she asked, “Do you travel like this all the time?” I shifted closer, and in an obvious attempt to bridge the gap between us, I grazed my thigh against hers. Thankfully, she didn’t challenge me. If she had, she would have found herself sitting on my lap. We weren’t ready for that just yet, but we would be . . . . Visions of Wynne straddling my lap, her core pressed against my cock, danced across my mind. As her scent permeated the small cabin, I tried to place it. It wasn’t floral or citrus. Whatever it was, I liked it. By the way my cock was standing at attention, he apparently liked it too.
Bringing my focus back to the question at hand, I thought about how to answer it. The old Sander wouldn’t think twice about lying. Why? Because the truth only resulted in trouble. Unfortunately, in my line of business, honesty came at a cost. I’d learned the hard way that relationships were nothing more than a liability. Still, something made me want to tell her the truth. I settled for somewhere in between.
“Let’s just say I’m conscientious about how I spend my money, now more than ever before.”
“Why? Because you don’t have as much of it, or because you’ve learned to value it?” Her question was surprisingly perceptive. At times I had more money than I knew what to do with. Money that I’d blown on drugs, booze, women, and who knows what else. Sobriety had taught me many things, one being that fortune, like fame, was a fleeting thing. Her question hung between us as the jet’s engines whirred to life.
The noise startled her and she jerked her gaze to the closed hatch and then back at me. “Wait. Isn’t Ferris coming?” The fact that she didn’t know meant that Ferris hadn’t gone running to her room last night to tell her. This made me extremely happy.
Faking disappointment, I answered, “Unfortunately, Ferris’s dad arrived late last night and is taking him skiing. He won’t be joining us.” Then, completely fishing, I added, “I hope you’re not too disappointed? I know how close the two of you are.”
“Ferris and I are just friends,” she clarified. And that is all you will ever be, I inwardly mused.
The captain let us know that we had five minutes until take off, and I asked, “Would you care for a drink? There’s bottled water, wine, champagne, sodas, or if you’d prefer a mixed drink, I can make you one.”
“Are you having anything?” she asked. Ahhh, I wasn’t the only one fishing. Fair enough.
“I think I’ll have water.”
“That sounds good, I’ll have the same.”
“I’m more of a weekend drinker,” I added as an afterthought. Then, as I rose to grab the waters, I thought about how easily the lie had slipped off my tongue. This got me thinking about how often I lied. The answer bothered me. So much so, that I found myself wanting to amend it with the truth. Before I could stop them, the words were out. “Actually, that’s not really true. I used to be a day and a night drinker. To the point that it landed me in rehab a few times.” I didn’t bother to mention the pills. With the waters in hand, I returned to the sofa and reclaimed my position next to her. “I haven’t had a drink in exactly two years and two days.” I watched her face and waited. For what, I wasn’t really sure. Her silence was all it took for me to second guess my moment of truth. What the fuck was I doing? Telling Wynne this
was tantamount to committing career suicide. I might as well open the hatch and jump.
My gaze dropped to her mouth as she nervously licked her lips. “I Googled you,” she admitted. Her guilty expression and hesitant tone told me how uncomfortable she was in her admission. Poor girl. The whole world had Googled me. I would be shocked if she hadn’t.
“So, you already know all of my sins. Hmmm, this changes everything,” I teased.
“I know what the tabloids say. I also know that most of it is gossip,” she offered with a shrug. I’d already spilled enough personal truths for one day. It was time to change the subject.
“I have to admit, I’m glad that Ferris couldn’t make it. I have nothing against him, but I would much rather be spending the next five days with you.”
“Oh? Why is that?” Her breathy response made me smile. I could see her pulse fluttering like tiny butterfly wings. I bet her heart was racing just as fast. I liked that I had this effect on her. Fuck knows she affected me. A piece of hair had escaped from the knot. As I leaned over to tuck it behind her ear, my focus drifted to her chest. Well, what do we have here? Like two ripe berries waiting to be plucked from the vine, her nipples poked through her shirt. Ripe berries? I thought. I even sounded like an old man. A lecherous old man. Her tits are suckable. There, that sounded better.
Slowly lifting my gaze, I discovered her watching me. As I stared into her gorgeous eyes, eyes so blue that I could almost see through them, I told her the biggest truth of all. “I’m intrigued by you, and I haven’t been intrigued by anyone for quite some time.” When she didn’t respond, I asked, “Does that scare you?”
“Yes, but I have to admit that I’m intrigued by you as well.” The quiver in her voice gave her away. She should be afraid. I was a rule breaker and she was a rule follower. I was about to lead her down the rabbit’s hole. If she was smart, she wouldn’t let me, but we both knew she would. Dumb girl. The need to touch her beat at me. Like a song that was waiting to be written, it pulsed through my veins and drummed against my skin. Giving in to the madness, I trailed a finger down her arm. When I got to the top of her hand, I flipped it over and traced a line across her palm.
“Hmmm, what shall we do with these . . . feelings?” I could think of one particular thing I’d like to do.
“Sander—” The desperation behind that one word let me know exactly what it would take to tip her right over the edge. It wasn’t much.
Threading our fingers together, I said, “No one will know. Right here, right now, it’s just you and me.”
Uncertainty flickered across her face. “And then what?” Her question made me pause.
“Well, what do you want?”
“I want you to assure me that this won’t cost me the competition. That it won’t, uh . . . damage my career.” The most profound sense of relief washed through me. A cute little squeak shot from her lips as I jerked her onto my lap.
“You’re here because you deserve to be. I know it and you know it. Hell, for that matter, all of America knows it. Nothing we do or say over the next five days is going to change that. Okay?”
“Promise?” she whispered.
“Promise. Now, tell me, what are your hard stops, Sexy Girl?”
“You calling me Sexy Girl,” she instantly retorted, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Live with it. It’s an endearment.” The laugh turned into a groan when she shifted on my lap, her hip digging into my cock.
“Sorry. I should move.”
An evil smile spread across my face as I lifted her up and told her to straddle my lap. She quickly complied. Crotch to cock, our bodies collided, and we both groaned. Hard stops,” I reminded once she was settled back on top of me. My guess was she didn’t like being tied up, wasn’t fond of spanking, and absolutely refused to engage in ass play.
“Well, I hate cheating, so if there’s another woman, we should stop right now.” She stared expectantly at me, and I realized she was waiting for a response.
“There’s no other woman,” I assured her. “Anything else?”
“I don’t mind being on bottom, but I like being on top, too.”
“Variety is the spice of life,” I murmured, and waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I said, “Please tell me there’s more.”
Her hand jerked beneath mine. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve only been with two men in my life.” God, I was such a fucking dick. A long time ago, back before Indigo Road was formed, before the music industry had gobbled me up and spit me back out, I was as fresh-faced and innocent as Wynne. When had I become such a jaded old man?
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
Her body tensed and I could tell she was about to bolt. Her whispered, “This is a mistake,” had me wrapping both of my arms around her. She immediately stopped struggling.
With my face now buried in her neck, I said, “It’s not a mistake. In truth, I find your innocence refreshing.”
“I’m not that innocent,” she grumpily muttered, and I fought back a laugh.
Pulling slightly back, I arched my brow. “No? What would you say if I told you I wanted to strip you bare, bend you over that chair over there, and make you scream with my mouth before making you scream on my cock?”
Her breath hitched and her gaze darted to the chair in question. I could practically see her imagining it. Holy shit. She wants it. Wynne may be innocent, but only because she hadn’t found someone to educate her. We didn’t have enough time for chair sex, but that didn’t mean, I couldn’t get her off. First, though, I needed to taste her lips.
Our pelvises clashed as I pulled her back in, eliciting another mutual groan. Shifting us both sideways, I now had her ass on the sofa and her legs trapped in my lap. This allowed me to do what I’d been wanting to do for months. I dug both of my hands into her luscious mane of hair, pulled her to me, and ate up that sexy-as-sin mouth of hers. I expected the kiss to be good, but it was much more than that. It was fucking spectacular.
Her needy whimper shot my cock into overdrive. I wanted to lay her out, strip off those leggings, and feast on her. That would have to wait for the ride to the house. With one hand still fisted in her hair, I pulled her close, and continuing my assault on her mouth, I skimmed the other down to tease those perfect nipples of hers. What had I called them? Ahhh, yes, ripe berries. Inwardly chuckling, I gave one and then the other a brief tweak of attention before moving down between her thighs. I could feel the heat of her pussy through her leggings. Her hips jerked as I pressed the palm of my hand to her core and began to slowly massage.
Ripping her lips away, she gasped, “God, Sander!”
“Does that feel good?”
Her forehead dropped to mine, and she whispered, “So good.”
“Do you want more?”
The word please barely had time to leave her lips, when my tongue was back in her mouth and I was sliding my hand inside her leggings, slowly dipping my fingers deep into the heart of her. She was wet for me, swollen, primed, and soaking. I knew she was there when her whole body tensed beneath my touch. I swallowed down her groan and smiled when she slumped against the back of the sofa. Right before the pilot came on the loudspeaker telling us to prepare for descent, I explained how I was going to taste her in the limousine and then fuck her in every room of my house.
Her response was a breathy, “Yes.”
No more than thirty minutes later, we were on our way to my house, and I was on my knees. Like a servant prostrating before his goddess—a goddess who just so happened to have her thighs perched on the tops of my shoulders—I was ready to make good on my promise. Cupping my hands under Wynne’s ass, I tilted up her hips and buried my tongue inside her. Salty tang rippled across my taste buds as I took what was mine. Her pants and groans only made me want more. I wanted it all. Surprisingly, Wynne wasn’t a screamer, but more of a groaner. Groaners were way sexier than screamers, and Wynne Benfield was the sexiest of them all.
While she slipped back into her legg
ings, I powered on my phone to quickly check my messages. My stomach dropped when I saw that I had several missed calls as well as text messages. Shit.
“Everything okay?” Wynne asked right as I opened the first of four text messages from Jayne.
I trusted you. Get back here now or both of our asses are on the line, it read.
“Everything is great,” I lied as I shot her a responding text.
I’ll see you on the 26th. Have a great Christmas.
Nothing, aside from Wynne getting kicked out of the competition, would make me leave Aspen now. I would deal with the fallout once I was back in Denver. Powering off my phone, I turned to her and smiled.
In a casual tone, I asked, “Would you like to shower first or would you prefer my cock?”
“Sander!” she exclaimed, her face flushing with embarrassment. My smile widened into an outright grin and she busted into laughter.
“Cock it is,” I said, and couldn’t help but laugh along with her. Damn if it didn’t feel good.
CHAPTER FOUR
* * *
“SONG FOR A WINTER’S NIGHT”
Wynne
Being from Florida, I’d only seen snow a handful of times in my life, and never like this. It came down like giant puffs of cotton, blanketing the ground, streets, and houses. It was both beautiful and magical, almost soul healing in its peacefulness. I wasn’t crazy about Denver, but I absolutely loved Aspen. Sighing, I gazed around the room. I especially loved this house. Vaulted ceilings soared over my head while lustrous wooden floors sat at my feet. There were five bedrooms, each with its own bath, a kitchen nicer than any I’d ever seen, and floor to ceiling windows with breathtaking views. Sander called it a cottage, but it was more like a castle to me. Believe me, I was no princess, but I felt like one. At least, Sander made me feel like one.
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