by Hamel, B. B.
It’s all about escape, play, teamwork. It’s about making new friends, meeting new people. Living in a brand new world where they can be better than they were, at least something different.
We switch on and off. Remi finishes, and I take over. I show her images, ideas, sketches. Some of them are half baked but we decided to give Blair everything, to show her the raw collaboration between Remi and I. We decided to highlight our imperfections in the same way that Spine would allow people to cover up their own.
Normally, I’d want to rehearse a presentation like this. We didn’t do that before, because she hated me, and we suffered for it. Now though, we both agreed to do the minimum of preparation and to wing the rest of it.
It’s raw and honest. I don’t think I’ve ever been this honest with a client before in my life. I tell her where we struggled and where we’ll keep struggling. Remi tells her what we think is genuinely good and notes that a few parts aren’t great, but can be fleshed out into greatness. When we’re done, I feel exposed, like I’ve just undressed in front of Blair and we’re waiting for her judgement.
I stand there, breathless. I look at Remi and back at Blair.
Last time, Blair just said one word. This time, she smiles.
“Okay,” she says, and stands up.
“Okay?” Remi sounds almost surprised. “You’re okay with all that? Even the parts that aren’t great?”
“I’m okay with you two,” she says. “All of that,” she gestures at the screen, “is unimportant to me. It will come.”
I stare at her and burst out laughing. It’s relief, pure and simple. “You just wanted us to make up and work together?”
She smiles bigger. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I love the movie.” She turns and leaves the room without another word.
I’m left standing there with Remi in stunned silence.
“Wow,” Remi finally says. “She’s totally nuts.”
I laugh and grab her, pulling her into a hug. She returns it, holding tight against me.
“I can’t imagine doing this insanity with anyone else,” I say softly. She tilts her face up and I kiss her.
We break apart a moment later. “What now?” she asks.
“Now we go to work for real.”
She laughs softly. “What we were doing wasn’t work?”
“No, that was play.” My grin is devilish. “We’ll do the real work tonight.”
She blushes and looks excited at the same time, and I know we can’t go wrong.
26
Remi
Two Years Later
“Yes, Mr. Hayes?”
He grins at me, beautiful eyes flashing. “Come in, Mrs. Hayes.”
I walk into Justin’s office, shutting the door behind me. I slowly approach his desk as he comes around it, rolling his shirt up over his elbows.
“You seem angry,” I say to him, heart racing. “Is something the matter?”
He comes at me, grabs my hair, and drags me to his desk. “You disappointed me, Mrs. Hayes,” he whispers in my ear. “And now it’s time to get punished.”
I moan and put my hands on his desk as he spanks me raw. When he’s done, he drops to his knees, spreads my ass wide, and licks my pussy until I can’t take it anymore.
He comes inside of me, and I savor the feeling of him dripping from my cunt as I slide my panties back on. He dresses, sitting down on the couch against the far wall of his office.
“Are you ready for tonight?” he asks as I straighten myself up. We’ve been doing this little ritual almost daily for the last two years, and I think it’s what I can mainly credit for keeping me sane and happy. That and everything else he does for me.
“I think so,” I say. “I’m relieved it’s finally happening.”
“Me too.” He stretches. “Too much red tape, but here we are.”
“Here we are.” I sit down across from him and smile. “Those kids are gonna love it.”
“A fitting use for terrible, awful money.” He smiles back at me, leaning across the little coffee table to kiss me softly.
As it turned out, Justin’s father left him some money. A lot of money, actually. His father was wealthy as hell from the success of Amazing and the later movies he was involved with. All that money came to Justin when his father passed, and Justin hated every cent.
He couldn’t decide what to do with it. Finally, after agonizing over the decision for months, we did three things.
First, we got married. He paid for everything, the trip to London, the rings, the honeymoon to Hawaii to visit Blair and that incredible compound.
Next, we bought my parents two absurdly expensive cars, since they wouldn’t take any money directly.
Finally, we set up a charity. Every cent of that money will go toward needy underprivileged children. It’s a college fund, and he’s quitting Optimum in two weeks to start running it full time.
And I’ll be filling his shoes.
“Our first banquet,” I say almost wistfully.
He grins. “First of many, if my plans work out. I think our investments are gonna pay off.”
He’s been investing the money and we plan on using what it earns to pay for the fund. Ideally, it’ll stay solvent for a very long time, as long as he’s careful.
“And then we start it all over,” I say.
“Not we,” he corrects. “I start it over. You start running this place.” He gestures around him.
I frown. “Still seems fake.”
“It’s not. This is gonna be your office in two weeks.”
I stand up and look around. This space belonged to my first boss and mentor, Diane, and then it belonged to my first love and husband, Justin. Soon, it’ll belong to me.
“I’m going to miss having a boss,” I say.
“You’ll always have a boss.” He comes up behind me, kisses my neck. “I can come over whenever you want, and you’ll be summoned into my new office very, very frequently.”
“Perfect.” I turn around and kiss him.
He holds me tight, and I marvel again at how it all fell into place. When he announced he was stepping down, the board took less than a week to offer me the job, and I took less than an hour to accept it. Now I’ll be where I want to be, and Justin will be where he wants to be.
After that, the only next step is to start a family. And we’re working on that, working very, very hard.
“Come on,” he says, kissing me again. “We’d better get back to work before people talk.”
“They’ve been talking for two years,” I point out.
He shrugs, grinning. “And I guess I shouldn’t care, since I am leaving anyway.”
“Maybe we have a little more time, after all?”
He smirks and kisses me softly, slowly, deeply.
We have all the time in the world, and I don’t know where else I’d rather spend it.
He’s my husband, my first true love, the boss I hated, the boss I loved.
With him, it’s never really work.
It’s always play, always amazing.
I’ll never look back.
* * *
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Also by B. B. Hamel
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Hot Hate to Love
Hating the Rock Star
Miracle Babies
His Miracle Baby
His Dream Baby
His Perfect Baby
His Wonder Baby
His Amazing Baby
Dark Daddies
Possessive Daddy
Small Town Daddy
Your Daddy
Virgin’s Daddy
Man of the House
Second Chance
Best Friends with Benefits
Second Chance Husband
Hating the Rock Star
My Brother’s Bad Best Friend
Barone Mafia Family
Step Bride – Book 1
Bastard’s Baby – Book 2
Kissing the Killer – Book 3
Packing Heat – Book 4
Bow Down – Book 5
Big Daddies
Big Stranger’s Baby
Big Mountain Daddy
Single Dad Billionaire
Virgin Bride
Dark and Filthy
Summer Loving
Intense
Bend
Ruined
Bind
BDSM Bad Boys
Daddy Dom
Daddy’s Baby
Reverse Harem
My Five Daddies
My Brother’s Five Friends
Five Mountain Daddies
Alphaholes
Baby Maker
Lovemaker
Filthy Beast
Hard Bastard
Steamy Sports
Long
Bull
Go Hard
Raunchy Royals
Royal Rock
Prince Player
Prince Billionaire
Sexy SEALs
Second Chance SEAL
One Night SEAL
Raging Hard
SEALed Bride
Bastard SEAL
Stepbrothers
Rock Hard
Stiff
Cocked
Smash
Based
City Series
Undersold
Kinged
Filmed
Honored
Jerked
Bad Boy Bikers
Biker’s Claim
Biker’s Bride
Full Collections
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Hating The Rock Star Preview
1
Grace
“Ever been to Vegas?”
The words come out of a god’s mouth. Actually, no, that’s not true.
Just a rock star.
Joss Myers tilts his head at me, and I’m at a loss for words. I know, it’s a simple question. I could just, like, open my mouth and say words at him. I’ve done it a million times.
Talking, it’s called talking. I can totally do that.
“Yes?” I say, blinking.
His smile spreads. He’s so close to me and my heart’s beating so fast I can barely breathe.
I can hear his bandmates in the other room. Landon, the drummer, is banging on something, keeping time and laughing as the other guys sing an out-of-tune song I’ve never heard before. The hallway I’m standing in with Joss is dim and empty except for the plush carpeting and the gold record plaques hanging on the wall.
One of those records belongs to the debut album of Slide. Actually, I think theirs is platinum.
“You’re not sure if you’ve been there?” he asks. “That sounded like a question.”
I clear my throat. “Uh, I mean, yes. I’ve been there before.” I say it so formally, and his eyes are sparkling.
I don’t know why the lead singer of Slide is talking to me. Their record, Body Language, was like the biggest thing a couple years ago. I think I wore out my CD player listening to it over and over. I know Joss’s voice intimately, or at least his singing voice.
It’s a little deeper, when he speaks. But that lilting, musical quality is still there, barely contained, just waiting to come out.
“Good,” he says. “Want to go again?”
I stare, not sure what to say. He’s waiting for an answer, but I’ve forgotten how to do that thing again. I mean, it’s an easy thing, I do it all the time.
Right. Talking.
“Okay,” I blurt out.
Joss lights up with a grin. He’s so handsome it’s almost unfair. Thick, dark hair, smooth eyebrows, heavy lashes. There’s a perpetual bit of stubble on his cheeks and chin, and colorful tattoos peek up through his simple black t-shirt.
“Good.” He turns and walks away, back into the control room where the rest of his band is waiting.
I stand there, staring after him, still holding a tray of drinks. It takes me a second to realize that I should follow, since the whole reason I’m in this hallway is to bring them some beer.
Getting a job working for Somesuch was a dream come true. I’ve always been into the music business, and Somesuch is one of the biggest indie labels around. They have huge bands on their roster, some of my favorite bands around. I’ve even gotten to work with a few, even though I’m just an intern and basically a glorified coffee girl.
And of course, there’s Slide. My all-time favorite band, and they’ve only put out one record.
I follow Joss into the room. Landon is sitting on the couch, his drumsticks in hand, keeping a languid rhythm on the coffee table in front of him. Nathan, the lead guitarist, sits at the control panel and broodingly stares at the dials and knobs. Joss leans up against the wall to my left, and Chase grins at me from the other chair in front of the control panel.
“I hear you’re coming with us,” Chase says.
“Uh, yeah,” I stammer. “Beer?”
He grins and takes the tray from me. He puts it down in front of Landon, who immediately grabs one, cracking open the top with his teeth. He gives me a grin, a little loony, but what else do you expect from a drummer?
“Good,” Chase says. “Joss here’s been needing a little, ah, cheering up. And we were hoping you’d take care of it.”
I blush and glance back at Joss, who winks at me.
“Uhm, I’ll do my best.”
The guys laugh. Even Nathan cracks a smile.
Landon holds up his beer. “To getting fucked in Vegas!” he says.
“You mean, fucked up?” Chase asks.
“Nah. I mean fucked!”
The guys all laugh but I’m intensely aware of Joss’s eyes on my body, roaming my skin.
I should get out of there. I should run away.
Instead, I’m going to Vegas with these crazy rock stars, and apparently the lead singer can’t stop staring at me.
2
Joss
I wake up with a splitting headache, which is about average for me.
It takes a few minutes before I feel good enough to roll out of bed. It’s a hotel like any other hotel, maybe a little gaudy, but otherwise fine. I shamble over to the bathroom, take a piss, and brush my teeth before I even remember what city we’re in
Las Vegas. Jesus fucking…
Of course we’re in Vegas. The night before comes flooding back, at least parts of it. At least the beginning.
There’s a knock at the door, followed by an insistent pounding. It mirrors the headache lancing through my skull.
“Shut the fuck up!” I shout. “I’m fucking coming.”
I walk over to the door and yank it open. I’m just wearing a pair of boxer briefs, but I’ve never been ashamed of my body. Actually, sometimes I like to show it off.
Chase arches an eyebrow at me. This is not one of those times.
“Sweet dick,” he says, pushing past me.
/> “Thanks, babe.” I sigh and head back into the room. I grab a pair of shorts and pull them on as Chase plops down in a chair and kicks his legs out.
The room’s pretty big, which means we sprung for the nice shit. That’s fine by me. The first album’s been selling nicely and the label’s been pretty good about discretionary spending while we fuck around and start writing material for the third album.
The world doesn’t know it yet, but our sophomore work is already pressed to vinyl, ready to ship. It releases in a few days, and after that, we go on a surprise tour.
This whole thing was Nathan’s idea. He figured it would be more mysterious if we drop the album without any hype, just out of nowhere, and announce a tour at the last second. The venues and vendors and all that shit aren’t happy, obviously, but the label’s been smoothing it out.
These past few days have basically been the last hurrah for us. Once we hit the road, we all know what life’s going to be like.
Boring. Drudgery. Shitty city after shitty city playing the same songs over and over.
And I’ll do it with a smile, because I don’t love anything more than those moments on stage. When I’m up there, and the crowd’s screaming along with my music, I feel more alive than I ever thought possible.
I feel indestructible. I feel beautiful.
“You wanna talk about it?” Chase asks me.
I sit at the edge of my bed and arch an eyebrow. “About what?”
He barks a little laugh, and I wince. “Holy shit. I knew you were wasted, but not that drunk.”
“I was fine,” I shoot back, although I think he’s right. I’m only getting hazy snippets of the night before.
Champagne on the label’s private jet. Shots in the limo on the way to the Chandelier.
Grace smiling and laughing at me, slowly loosening up.
A spike shoots through my gut. Grace. Holy shit.