His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

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His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 70

by Michelle Love


  “Do you trust me?”

  She nodded. He unclasped her bra, slid her panties off, and ran a fingertip from her throat down to her navel. “God, you’re beautiful.” She felt him part her legs with his hand and a second later his mouth was on her sex. Bay gasped as he lashed his tongue around her clit and the soft peach of her labia, biting down on the tender parts of her. She swayed, her breath hitching and shaking, and her fingers tangled in his dark hair.

  He brought her to an almost unbearable climax and her body rocked, her limbs liquefying as it ripped through her. Tom caught her as her legs gave way and laid her gently onto the desk. He pushed the tie away from her eyes and kissed her deeply, his entire focus on her. The fact he was fully dressed while she was naked was thrilling to her in a way she never expected; to be totally at his mercy was without a doubt the most erotic experience she’d had.

  Tom stroked her face, then stood. “Touch yourself, my darling. Stroke your beautiful body for me while I undress.”

  Bay slipped a hand between her legs, felt how hot and swollen she was, and when Tom began to undress, slipping easily out of his suit and fisting the root of his already engorged cock as he approached her, she felt a warm rush of arousal and moaned. Tom grabbed his tie and tied her hands above her head, pushing her legs apart with his feet as the hot length of his cock lay against her belly.

  “I want you,” she moaned, desperate to feel him inside her, but he smiled and shook his head.

  “You kept me waiting, Bay …”

  She groaned and writhed in anticipation, but he just laughed. He spent his time, kissing her entire body from her throat down, biting down on her nipples to the point of pain, and burying his face in her belly. His hand was on her sex, stroking and exciting her until she felt red raw with need. Only then did he slowly—too slowly—slide his hard, thick length into her.

  “Oh god.” She shuddered as he filled her deep, to the root of his cock. So controlled, he slowly moved in and out of her until she screamed at him to please, please, fuck her harder …

  Tom’s hips slammed against her with brutal strokes, driving into her with such great force she thought she might be thrown from the desk. Instead, his hands clamped on hers, keeping her steady as he drove into her. She came, shuddering and gasping, and when a second later he groaned, he pulled out and came on her belly, shooting thick streams of creamy, white cum on her skin.

  They tumbled to the floor of the office and Bay straddled him, wanting more and more. Guiding his still-hard cock back inside of her, she rode him. He smiled up at her as she rode him, freeing her hands. His own hands were on her breasts, squeezing and plumping them, his big thumbs stroking a rhythm across her hard and sensitive nipples.

  Finally, they collapsed to the floor, exhausted, sated, and happy. Tom propped himself up on his elbow and watched her as she caught her breath. He admired the way her belly undulated as she breathed, her breasts rising and falling, and the soft blush in her cheeks that cooled from hot scarlet to a rosy glow.

  She grinned up at him. “You own this club, don’t you?”

  Tom inclined his head. “Possibly.” He bent to kiss her. “God, I have missed you. Your face, your body, and the way you laugh.”

  “Me too,” she said gently. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I didn’t mean to. I panicked.”

  “Why?”

  She sighed. “Kym and I were going through a rough time—the first time our friendship was ever called into question. And there was the fact that I was falling for you. That scares me, Tom. I cannot tell you how much.”

  Tom was quiet for a moment. “Is this something to do with your brother?”

  She nodded. “He didn’t die in a car wreck, Tom. He deliberately drove his car into a wall. And I never saw it coming.”

  “Jesus.” He gathered her into his arms, but she remained dry-eyed. “I was scared of ever feeling like I did that day again and I know how ridiculous and childish that sounds, but it is what it is.”

  “Bay, I’m not going anywhere. And as for our ‘no strings’ thing, that was null and void for me the minute I kissed you. I just didn’t want to crowd you.”

  She stroked his face. “You were so patient.”

  “How long have you kept this all in?”

  Bay shrugged. “I’m not anymore. Thanks to you, my darling Tomas.” She kissed him, then fell back again. “I’m exhausted.”

  Tom drew the back of his hand down the length of her body. “What a shame …I had plans for you for the rest of the night.”

  Bay considered and smiled as Tom moved his body on top of hers. “I’m sure I could stay awake for that …oh god, yes …. Yes …”

  “Bumbershoot.”

  Roman and Tom looked at each other and then back at Dash. “Huh?”

  Dash grinned at his friends and partners. “Bumbershoot. The music festival. IT’s Seattle’s largest and it’s perfect. We can get the 9th on the bill, I’m sure. Yeah, they’ll be low down on the bill, but they’re already creating buzz. It’s the perfect debut.”

  Roman pushed his uneaten eggs away from him. “You’re the marketing whiz,” he said. “When is it?”

  Dash shot a look at Tom. “Three weeks.”

  Tom laughed. “Oh, thanks for that. I bet you want me to tell the band?”

  Dash grinned guiltily. “I would tell them, but that girl Kym scares me. And you’ve already got an …in, as it were.”

  Roman chuckled as Tom sighed. “Nice.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Kym got home from band rehearsal, buzzing. Bumbershoot! It had been her dream since she was a kid. She had never missed one, even insisting on going on her own when her parents had been on tour. Of course, as soon as she’d met Bay when they were twelve, it had become their thing—their annual escape from the hideousness of adolescence. They had spent days talking about it afterward, planning their band, wishing, dreaming, and writing songs.

  And now they were on the playbill. She closed the door behind her, threw her jacket over a kitchen chair, and danced around the dark room. She didn’t see him sitting in the dim light until he spoke.

  “Where the fuck have you been?”

  She whirled around, clutching at her chest, painful adrenaline spiking through her veins.

  “Jesus, Stu …how the hell did you get in?”

  He didn’t answer her, but got up. Even across the dark kitchen, she could see the angry gleam in his eyes, the dilated pupils, and the sweat on his upper lip. He was high.

  Kym backed away. “Stu?”

  “Shut the fuck up.” He hissed the words out through gritted teeth. “So I heard about the gig. Bumbershoot, eh? Funny how I was shut out of the conversation—again. How many times now, Kym?” He was advancing on her and, too late, she realized she had no way out. He was in her face. “It’s your fucking best friend again, isn’t it? That fucking bitch. I should have killed her when I had the chance.”

  Kym froze. “What?”

  Stu wiped his nose with his sleeve and grinned. “I could have broken her like that.” He clicked his fingers, “I still could …”

  Kym felt abject terror flood through her. “Leave her alone.”

  Stu smirked. “None of you are going to get away with this, least of all you. I thought you loved me.”

  Suddenly Kym’s mind cleared. She faced her half-crazed boyfriend and saw nothing in him she recognized. “No one could love you, Stu. Not like this. You’re a mess.”

  She didn’t have time to breathe before the first blow came.

  The journalist from Rolling Stone was the same one who had interviewed Bay in San Francisco, so when Bay introduced her to Pete, the interview had already begun. As Pete told the interviewer, Lauren, about his story, Bay glanced at her watch. Kym was late, which wasn’t that unusual, but she knew how important this interview was—they were dropping their first single and video in the morning. She glanced at Dash, who was talking to the photographer; he d
idn’t seem to be bothered that the blonde guitarist was missing. When Lauren turned to her, Bay covered for her friend, telling her about how talented Kym was and how she wanted to make a name for herself without the legacy of her parents (Bay couldn’t help resist a little dig at Charlie and Mac and their lack of support for their daughter).

  As the interview neared its end, she saw Tom come into the room and talk to Dash in a low tone. Whatever he had told the younger man, Dash’s face drained of color. Bay’s heart started to thump unpleasantly. Oh, no, please, not Kym …

  They ended the interview without alerting Lauren that anything was wrong, but as soon as they were clear, Bay went to Tom.

  “What? What is it?”

  His eyes showed distress, but he kept his voice calm. “It’s Kym. She’s in the hospital.”

  She was okay until she saw Kym, her face a bloody pulp of cuts and bruises, propped up in the hospital bed. Her arm was bandaged and she was obviously in great pain. Bay sat carefully on the edge of her bed, her entire body trembling.

  “Hey girl.” She tried to smile at her friend and took her uninjured hands in hers.

  Kym smiled, then winced. “Stupid beer, getting me all drunk. I tell you, those stairs to my apart—“

  “Don’t.” Bay’s voice was low. Tom and Pete had waited outside the room to give her and Kym the chance to talk. Bay’s eyes filled with tears. “I know it was him.”

  Kym looked away from her. “Bay, I can’t …I’m scared of what he’ll do.”

  “Hey, listen to me. He won’t get the chance. You need to call the police and if you don’t, I will.”

  “No. Not that, please, Bay.”

  Bay shook her head, incredulous. “He could have killed you.”

  Kym sighed. “I know, but he didn’t. Look, I just want to get well, get out of here, and do the show.” She tried to smile. “What else is make-up for?”

  Bay looked out of the window at Tom and Pete. They were talking to a nurse. She turned and said, “He attacked me. A few weeks ago. His actual words were ‘Don’t fuck this up for me.’ So, if you want me to—“

  “Bay, no.” Kym looked terrified. “He’ll kill both of us.” She was clinging on to Bay’s hand now and winced when she realized she was using her damaged arm. “I mean it. We neither of us have any proof, other than our word. I’m not saying do nothing, I’m just saying …let’s give Stu enough rope to hang himself. He’s doing more and more coke—he’ll crash and burn soon enough.”

  Bay eased her hand free and leaned her head against Kym’s.

  “Okay. For now, we’ll bide our time. But I will make him pay for what he’s done to you. I swear to God, I will.”

  On the way home from the hospital, Tom looked at Bay. “Was it Stu?”

  Bay nodded. “Scum bag. God, Tom, I could kill him.”

  He took his hand from the wheel and took hers. “I already hired some people to look for him—no, not the police, don’t worry. I heard what Kym said. And we’ll invoke the penalty clause of his part of the contract. Don’t worry, he’ll no longer have anything to do with The 9th & Pine.”

  She smiled gratefully at him, but then shifted in her seat. “I feel so antsy. Do you mind if I go to the studio for a couple of hours?”

  “Not at all. I have some stuff to finish up at the office. Pick you up at nine.”

  Stuart Lawson had been in a fleabag bar ever since the previous night. He vaguely remembered seeing Kym, getting angry, and maybe slapping her. Shit. He’d have a serious bitching out coming his way. He almost toppled off the bar stool and staggered to the restrooms, not caring if anyone saw the small bag of cocaine he pulled from his pocket. He tapped out a line and snorted. Nothing. It was getting harder and harder to get a buzz from the drug.

  His phone rang. His eyebrows shot up when he saw it was Bay calling. He pressed accept, smirking.

  “What do you want?”

  “We’re having a meeting. I assumed you’d wanted to be told.”

  Stu sniffed and wiped his nose. A thin trail of blood snaked across his hand, but he ignored it. “What’s the meeting about?”

  Bay sighed. “Do you want to come or not? If not, we’ll carry on without you.”

  Stu pushed out of the restroom and headed for the door. “Why isn’t Kym calling me?”

  He didn’t catch the slight hesitation. “She’s in the can. Look, Stu, should we wait?”

  “Where are you?”

  “The studio.”

  Stu smiled. “I’m three blocks away.”

  Tomas put down the phone, frustrated. Whatever rock Stu had crawled under, it was a well-hidden one. He didn’t like this—not knowing where that creep was. He also suspected Bay was keeping something from him, something about the attack on Kym, but he couldn’t think what it might be.

  Roman knocked. “Hey, how’s it going? How’s Kym?”

  Tom filled him in and Roman blew out his cheeks. “I knew that dude was dirty. What do you want us to do?”

  “Get the lawyers to draw up a new contract for the band and get Dash to find a new manager or agent. Make sure Lawson doesn’t see a penny. Shouldn’t be too hard if the band hasn’t made any money yet.”

  Roman smiled. “Then we’d better get that done tonight – the single will drop in the morning and there’s already huge buzz on the net.”

  When Roman had gone, Tom glanced at the clock. It was too early to go pick up Bay but he was antsy just sitting there. The hell with it, he’d hang out with techs if she was busy. He picked up his jacket and left the office.

  Stu pushed into the studio to find Bay waiting for him. She stood there, still and watchful. Stu glanced around. “Where’d everyone go? I thought I told you to wait.”

  She gave him a chilly smile. “They were never here, Stuart. It’s just me.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “Yes. Stu, you’re fired. So very, very fired.”

  “The fuck are you talking about?”

  She moved so that she was in front of him. “You put Kym in the hospital. And I know it wasn’t the first time it’s happened—the first time you’ve beaten her. This time, though, you weren’t careful, were you? You didn’t hit her where it was easy to hide.” Bay’s rage was so calm and yet so white-hot. She could tell Stu took her seriously. He was silent and she could see his dumb-ass brain working, putting together everything. How messed up was he?

  “Kym’s in the hospital. So why aren’t the police here? Huh?”

  Bay’s voice was steady, calm, and quiet. “Because Kym decided to protect your sorry ass one last time and I want to respect her wishes. But you are fired and if I ever see you in Seattle again, Stu, I will call the police. I will have your ass in jail so fast you won’t know what hit you. Do you understand me?”

  Stu laughed, mocking her and trying to save face. “As soon as you give me my check, sweetheart, you got it.”

  “No check. No money. Nothing. Just your freedom.”

  He stopped smiling. “You can’t do that.”

  Bay smiled, a wide grin that split her whole face. “There are definitely some perks to sucking the boss’ cock. You don’t get a penny, asshole.”

  “You fucking whore!” Stu launched himself at her, throwing her to the floor and clamping his hands around her throat, squeezing and choking her. Bay fought back, jamming her fingers into his eyes and kicking out. She caught him with her foot in his groin and immediately he rocked back, groaning. Bay scrambled up, went for the door, and almost made it. Stu, roaring his anger, picked her up, and threw her through the glass partition between the studio and the mixing room, smashing the glass. Bay landed heavily on the mixing desk and rolled off, completely winded, her body screaming in pain. Stu, incensed, followed her through the shattered window and grabbed her hair, pulling her back against him. Bay swiped at him with a shard of broken glass, but he grabbed her arm and twisted until she dropped it. Stu smashed her across the head with a heavy-bottomed ashtray and Bay, stunned but still awake,
crumpled to the floor. Stu straddled her, clamping her arms above her head with one big hand. He grabbed the shard of glass she had dropped and drew his arm back to drive it into her stomach.

  Tom dragged him off of Bay with a roar, punching the shocked Stu into unconsciousness. Bay scrambled away from them, backing up until she was leaning against the door, breathing hard and shell-shocked by the speed of the attack. Tom finally let Stu drop and went to her. She was covered in blood, but a quick check told him that she had no major injuries. She told him what had happened and Tom looked appalled, pulling her into his arms.

  “God, you insane girl. What were you thinking?”

  “Insurance,” Bay said breathlessly. “A way to get rid of him for good.”

  Tom stared at her in alarm. “Please tell me you weren’t going to kill him. Bay, he’s twice your size. You’d be dead now if …Jesus.”

  “No.” She made him look at her, then pointed upwards, around the room. Cameras, seven of them, were stationed around the room, recording everything that happened in the studio

  “In case a band decides to trash the place.” She grinned at him. “Which I suppose I did.”

  He started to laugh, then, and kissed her. “I’d call you a genius, but you could have told me, Bay.”

  “I won’t hide anything from you again,” she promised. He helped her to her feet and she went over to Stu, nudging him with her toe. He moaned. “Jack off,” she said. “What do you say we take out the trash?”

  Stu Lawson woke up four hours later, a stray dog licking his face. He sat up, realizing he was on a landfill site, trash everywhere. To his jacket was pinned a note. Guess who’s got it all on camera, asshole? Leave Seattle or the film goes to the police.

  The stray dog turned and lifted his leg to pee on him.

  Bumbershoot. A crowd seething with anticipation. Bay wished she hadn’t looked to see how many people had turned up to see them. Seattle Center was full to capacity.

  Their single had now been steadily climbing the Billboard chart. “Fire for You” was the song America was talking about; The 9th & Pine, the biggest new band on social media. They had arrived.

 

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