by Molly McLain
Brooke
“So, you didn’t want to attend the fight, but the gala interests you. Why is that?” I ask as we make our way down the hotel corridor. I fuss with the shoulder strap of my dress. The same strap that’s fallen at least half a dozen times already.
“I already told you. I’m not really into MMA. I mean, it’s cool and all, but it’s just not my thing. But Dek loves it so I gave him our tickets. And the gala… Well, that’s purely for selfish reasons. All the sex has turned me into one hungry boy. Must have sustenance to continue pleasing young sex-pot wife,” he teases and I can’t help rolling my eyes.
We walk onto the empty elevator and stand shoulder to shoulder.
“I’ve got news for you, Sebastian. You’re no boy. Hungry or otherwise. You, my sexy husband, are all man.”
Capital M. A. N.
“Can’t argue with you on that one. But I’m famished. What do you say we dash in, grab a plate of food to scarf down, then run back up to our room and spend the rest of the evening naked.” He slips behind me and circles his arms around my waist. “Better still. Why don’t we sneak our plates back to the room so I can spend the rest of the evening eating it off you? That could be a whole lot of fun,” he murmurs between kisses on my neck. I sigh and sink back against him. He knows my neck is my weakness.
We exit the hotel and walk hand in hand toward the ballroom located inside the hotel. There’s a small line to get through security so we pass the time shooting one another needy glances and sharing a heated kiss or two. Or seven. But who the fuck is counting? This security checkpoint is taking far too long for my liking. Who are they hiding in there? The President or something? Geesh.
By the time we finally make it to the door I may be slightly agitated. Okay, agitated may not be the exact word I would use. Hangry might be a better fit. I look around and spot the faces of many famous actors and actresses inside. There’s also a man standing off to my right that looks an awful lot like someone I’ve met before.
A quick glance at his nametag tells me his name is Garrett. I lower my gaze and take in the blue uniform he’s wearing. A quick glance around the room is all it takes to figure out this guy is with security. There are countless men dressed just like him and placed strategically throughout the ballroom. Garrett is around six one and his sleeves have been pushed up to reveal some pretty impressive forearms. Heavily tattooed and very muscular. For a brief moment, I’m so distracted by his arms that I completely miss Sebastian arguing with the girl in charge of the guest list.
“I already told you. I have two tickets in my name. I must have left them in my room. Suite 3439.”
I protectively loop my arm through his and rest my chin on his shoulder. “What’s the problem, honey?” He brings me up to speed while I shift my gaze between Sebastian and the young woman sitting behind the table. I offer an incredulous look before stating, “This is Sebastian Miles. Do you not recognize him?” The young woman shakes her head and my first thought is she must have been living under a rock for the past year. “Does the name Paradox ring a bell? They won six Grammy’s this year. This is their lead singer, and my husband.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not familiar with your music,” Nicole states sheepishly. “I’m under strict orders not to allow anyone to enter without a ticket. Not only have you forgotten your ticket, but you also don’t have ID to support who you claim to be.”
Her comment and attitude rub me the wrong way. Normally, I’m not a prima donna, but come on! Most of the time we can’t go anywhere without Sebastian being recognized and asked to sign autographs. I guess the people visiting Las Vegas have seen so many famous people they stopped being star struck a long time ago.
I open my mouth to defend my husband but I’m cut off by a deep voice. “Is there a problem, Nicole?”
“Garrett.” She seems greatly relieved he’s arrived to assist her. “This gentleman left his tickets and ID in his suite and now they’re upset because I won’t let them go in. I was given strict orders to check every guest carefully,” she states, frustration evident when she glares at me. Garrett looks down at the list where her finger is pointed then back up to Sebastian.
“Sebastian Miles? No way!” He steps around the table and he and Sebastian exchange a manly hug. “It’s been years. How the hell are you? Michael told me you got married awhile back. This must be your beautiful bride.” He turns and flashes me a smile that looks strangely familiar.
“Yes! I’m sorry. Garrett, this is Brooke. Brooke, this guy is Michael’s younger brother,” my husband informs me.
“Of course you’re related to Michael. I thought I recognized that smile.” His arms open for a hug and I step into it. “I love your brother. He keeps me company when I can’t sleep on the tour bus, and he protects my husband. That makes him pretty special in my book.”
“Yeah? Try being his little brother sometime and you’ll find out he’s not all that great.” He offers me a teasing wink. “Speaking of my brother, is he here with you?”
“Not tonight. I gave him the night off to hang with the band. If there’s any trouble, this one here will handle it. She’s far more protective than any bodyguard,” Sebastian winks at me.
This makes Garrett chuckle and he continues laughing while his eyes roam my body. “By the looks of her, I’ll bet she’s a handful.” He finally turns to the woman behind the table. “Nicole, I can vouch for this guy. I’ve known him for ten years.”
Nicole offers a half-hearted smile and hands us each a program before we head to our designated table.
Sebastian turns to Garrett and gives him a clap on the shoulder. “Hey, man. Good to see you again. If you’re ever out in L.A., don’t be a stranger. Our house is always open.”
“Be careful, I just may take you up on that offer. I’ve been working far too much. A change of scenery may be just the thing I need.” His eyes meet mine and I would swear I see a smirk hidden beneath that mask of a smile he’s wearing. He offers a nod before returning to his duties.
That was odd.
Oblivious to what’s just taken place, Sebastian’s arm circles my waist to guide me further into the room. The space is tastefully decorated in white and green. The lights in the room are turned down and there are twinkle lights hanging from the ceiling, making the grand space more elegant.
“Champagne?” asks one of the many servers who are working the ballroom.
“Thank you.” I smile and we both take a glass before the server moves on.
I raise my glass to his and make a toast. “To tonight. To finally connecting and making the most of what precious time we have left.” We clink glasses and just before we take a sip someone is calling Sebastian’s name. We turn to find the owner of Hyperion Records approaching us. I can’t disguise the groan that slips past my lips.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of him,” Sebastian whispers just before extending a hand in greeting. “Barry! I wasn’t aware you’d be attending. Great to see you again. You remember my wife, Brooke?”
Barry smiles warmly and kisses the back of my hand before placing a hand on Sebastian’s back and guiding him away from where I’m standing. Sebastian glances back over his shoulder and mouths I’m sorry just as he’s led to a group of men waiting to speak with him. Something tells me this impromptu meeting will be anything but quick. I make my way to one of the high top tables and set down my glass as I casually scan the room.
I see a group of men gathered near the stage and in the center stands Academy Award-winning actress, Savannah Jordan. She’s beautiful on camera, even more stunning in person. Raucous laughter rings throughout the crowded space and I scan my eyes to the right and find Barry holding center court amongst his groupies. It’s not that I dislike the man, but right now he’s the one responsible for my husband not being in my bed every night. For that reason alone, I may be slightly bitter.
Garrett joins me at the small table and slides another champagne flute my way. “Looked like you could use a refill. A woman as
stunning as you shouldn’t have to go in search of her own drink,” he says, eyes raking over my body before he lowers his mouth to my ear.
“I’m surprised he left you here by yourself. Maybe he’s been too busy to notice how many men there are staring at you right this very moment.” The tips of his fingers graze my elbow and I shudder, but not because I’m attracted to him. Unfortunately, that’s the way he interprets it. “You know, Brooke,” his fingers travel further up my arm, “if you were mine, I’d never leave your side.”
His words make my skin crawl. Garrett is nothing like his brother. Michael would never disrespect Sebastian like this. And he certainly wouldn’t consider putting the moves on me. He knows Sebastian would kill him. It makes me sad for my husband because just minutes ago he’d invited this asshole into our home.
“What are you doing? Take your hand off me,” I hiss, doing my best not to make a scene.
“Come on, Brooke. I was just trying to be nice,” he leers.
“Take your hand off my wife before I fucking break it,” Sebastian growls from behind us. “You okay, babe?” he looks to me before angling his body between Garrett and me. It’s clear he isn’t just angry. He’s downright pissed.
My husband can be called a lot of things. Sexy. Talented. Good-natured. Loving. But not many people know of the temper he has on him. He very rarely loses it. But when he does…
“Easy, buddy,” Garrett says, eyes coming back to meet mine. “No need for violence. I just saw Brooke over here by herself and it looked like she needed a refill. No harm done. Right, sweetheart?” He cocks a brow and drags his tongue suggestively over his lower lip. “If you’re that possessive over her, maybe you should think twice about leaving her alone. You never know who may come along and steal her right out from under your nose.” He gives me a flirty wink.
In a flash, Sebastian shoves me out of the way just before his fist connects with Garrett’s jaw
“Stay the fuck away from my wife.” Sebastian’s deep voice thunders throughout the suddenly quiet room.
Garrett wipes the blood from his lip and takes a step forward. Just as two men step between them and haul each one in a different direction. Sebastian’s so wound up that it takes two men to drag him away.
“Sir, it isn’t suitable for guests to be throwing punches at a member of our security team. Please, just go outside and calm down. When you come back inside my boss, Henry, would like to meet with you and ask you a few questions,” one man says. “After that, you’ll be able to join your wife for dinner.”
“No thanks. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” Sebastian replies.
When they turn and start walking back inside I hear one of them mutter. “What kind of dumb ass picks a fight with a member of the security team anyhow?”
He releases a string of expletives before threading his fingers with mine and leading me back to the hotel. His movements are rough and his pace quick, and in my four-inch heels it’s a challenge to keep up. Not a word is spoken as we ride the empty elevator to our floor and make our way down the hall to our suite. We step inside and the door closes quietly behind us. Sebastian reaches around me to lock it and in the next instant my back is pinned against the door.
“You’re my goddamn wife. I better never catch some motherfucker touching you again. Understand?” His words are harsh and controlling. I’ve never seen this side of my husband. He’s always been protective of me but this is different. His actions scream dominance yet the look on his face is one of complete anguish. He buries his hands in my hair as his mouth crashes into mine in a punishing kiss that’s both terrifying and electrifying all at once.
As the kiss deepens, my fingers seek out the hard planes of his bare flesh. The tips of my fingers skim his flat stomach, pausing to trace the line of hair that runs straight down to his thick erection. I moan happily into his open mouth when his hand covers mine to guide it inside the waistband of his pants. I’m pleased when I discover two things:
He’s not wearing underwear.
His cock is harder than Chinese arithmetic.
Sebastian
The feel of her warm hand wrapped around my rock hard erection should be enough to make me feel better about what just happened back there. It should. But it doesn’t.
Every time I close my eyes I see that fuckwad’s hand caressing her arm. See his lips pressed to her ear. See her not pushing him away… I see that and it messes with my head. Makes me think things I don’t want to think. Feel things I don’t want to feel.
I thought claiming her mouth would make those feelings go away. I thought her touch might be enough to make me forget. But it isn’t working…
She uses her hand expertly, stroking up and down my shaft in the most seductive of ways. Flattening her thumb against the underside and pressing from base to tip, milking the pre-come from my eager cock. As if sensing my inner struggle, she spins us around so that my back is now to the door and she drops to her knees in front of me.
Nimble fingers work my pants down each leg until they’re pooled at my ankles. She opens her mouth and runs the tip of her pink tongue through the slit of my hardened cock, drinking in my arousal. She dots the underside of my shaft with teasingly soft kisses then traces slow circles with her tongue. I gather her hair in one hand and hold it out of the way so I can watch her deep-throat me.
“Suck it,” I demand, using my free hand to guide her down my needy cock. “Fuuuuck,” I draw the word out long and slow, matching the tempo of her bobbing head. Her lips are soft. The interior of her mouth warm and wet. One hand is wrapped around the base of my shaft. While the other plays with my balls. Her eyelids flutter closed when the tip of my dick meets the back of her throat, but she doesn’t stop. Her soft tongue swirls and licks me in a deliciously unpredictable pattern. “Babe, that feels so fucking good.”
“Mmm,” she hums as the soft edges of her teeth drag across my cock then gently press into the part just below the crown. She curls her tongue around the end of my shaft and starts sucking. Her right hand pumps vigorously while the left teases my perineum.
Watching her love me in this way is a huge turn on. She claims that giving me a blowjob is her favorite thing to do. I’m not sure if it’s true or if she just says that to inflate my ego. Doesn’t matter. All I know is when she’s on her knees with my dick in her mouth, I’m like a puppet and she’s the fucking puppet master. This gorgeous woman pulls all the right strings, in all the right places. This woman fucking owns me. And I’m a better man for it.
An all too familiar pull in my balls indicates my release is near, but I’m not ready to come. Not just yet.
“Brooke, baby. Come here. I want your lips right here.” I tap a finger over my own lips and pull her up to meet me. Our mouths meet in a hard kiss that tastes faintly of vanilla, champagne, and me. Not wanting to break the kiss, I do my best not to fall over while attempting to kick off my shoes and untangle myself from the pants still bunched around my ankles.
Her arms circle my neck and she rocks forward on her toes to whisper in my ear, “I can’t wait any longer. I need to have you inside me or I’ll go crazy.”
“God, I love hearing you say that.” Our lips connect once more before she lowers her hands between us and pushes off my chest. She flashes a playful smirk, turns away from me, and lifts her hair away from her shoulders.
“Would you mind unzipping me?” she asks in that breathy voice I find hard to resist. When the zipper is lowered she steps away and begins to strip her way to the bedroom. Articles of clothing are discarded along her path. Her dress is left in a heap near the sofa. Her lacy bra is tossed over the back of a wing-backed chair. She shimmies out of her panties and they lay crumpled just outside the bathroom door. When she bends to remove the heels I stop her.
“Leave the shoes. I want those wrapped around my neck in the next five minutes,” I growl and stalk my way to where she’s standing.
“Why so long? I want to feel you now.” She sticks out her lower lip in a sex
y pout.
“Because.” I reach a hand between us and plunge a finger deep inside. “I’m gonna go fucking crazy if I don’t get another taste of this sweet pussy.” I work my finger in and out a few more times while settling my lips on the soft spot of her neck. “I want you to be a quivering mess before I lose myself inside you.”
She lies sprawled in the center of the bed propped up on her elbows to watch me undress. I reach for her ankles and drag her to the edge of the bed. Placing one hand on each knee, I spread her open and lower my mouth to her pretty pink pussy. The first sweeping pass of my tongue has her moaning. A few more licks and her hips are rising to meet me. I slip two fingers inside her and the moaning turns to soft whimpers. The tip of my tongue works her clit into a raging frenzy. When my name falls breathlessly from her lips I lower my hips between her quivering thighs, wrap her ankles around my neck, and thrust deeply, filling her to the hilt.
Her tits jiggle with every powerful stroke I make. I’m buried as far as I can go, but she feels so good I have this insatiable need to go deeper. Pump faster. Lose myself. The first squeeze of her tight pussy is all it takes to speed up my impending orgasm. Her body shakes and quivers below me.
“Oh, fuck. I can’t hold back any longer. I’m coming,” I rasp as my cock jerks and I fill her with my sticky release.
Later, when we’re wrapped in each other’s arms, legs tangled together possessively, I lower my lips to her soft cheek.
“You think we made a baby that time?” she asks quietly as if merely posing the question will jinx our efforts.
My hand cups the soft curve of her ass and gives it a squeeze. “I’m not sure but I’ve had a hell of a good time trying.” She giggles softly and wriggles around until she’s straddling my hips. “When this tour is over, and I’m back home, all my focus is going to be on this sexy body.” I slip a hand between us to palm her damp mound and she leans forward to purr in my ear.