Beautiful Series Boxset, books 1-4

by Lilliana Anderson

  Dragging his teeth over his bottom lip, he tilts his head. “See, that’s what gets me. Because I would have understood. Out of everyone in this world, I’m probably the one person who would completely understand your actions. Hell, I even understand why you don’t want to go anywhere near the industry, or anyone associated with it. But what I don’t understand is why you didn’t trust me to understand. You didn’t even give me the chance. Just some bullshit about us not working because I’m a rock star with a reputation for fucking groupies. I thought all I had to do was prove to you that I wasn’t going anywhere, that I had no interest in fucking anyone but you. But now I realise I never had a fucking chance.”

  “Why do you think I kept telling you I didn’t want you?” I whisper, just as the doors ping open.

  He throws my hand from his grip and steps off, placing his arm against the doors so they don’t close. “Get off the fucking lift, Lisa.”

  I wrap my arm across my middle, pressing my aching hand underneath my opposite elbow. “I think I should go home.”

  “Get. Off. The. Fucking. Lift.”

  I step backwards and shake my head.

  He takes a calming breath and holds out his hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know that. But I’m hurting you. Let me go so I can stop.”

  He reaches in and grabs me by the arm, tugging me after him. “Jesus, you’re a stubborn woman.” He pushes me against the wall as the doors slide closed, caging me with his arms on either side of my shoulders. “Get it through your head, I’m not leaving. You’re not leaving. You and me, we’re fucking forever.”

  My eyes burn. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I love you, dammit. I fucking love you and I know it’s real because I would walk away from all of this in a heartbeat if it means I can be with you.”

  “What?” He can't be serious.

  He rests his forehead against mine and softens his voice. “I will give all of this up to be a regular man with you.”

  My hands lift to his face, pressing against his cheeks as I fight the swell of emotion that floods my entire body. “You’d give up your music, your fame, for me?”

  He presses his forehead a little harder into mine. “In a fucking heartbeat,” he whispers, his voice strained. Fuck. He really does mean it.

  “Marcus.” My voice barely registers as my mouth searches for his, lips teasing. I’m overwhelmed by him. Marcus is a man with the world at his feet. He’s mentioned being tired and sick of the constant touring, but to hear him so willing to walk away from everything he’s built and worked for astounds me. “You’ll end up resenting me. I can’t let you do that.”

  “It’s not your fucking choice.”

  “God. Why are you so pigheaded?”

  “Because this, Lisa.” His hands move to either side of my head. “This is what we write songs about. And if we let it go because we’re scared of what’s out there waiting for us, what’s the fucking point in any of this?”

  “I don’t know,” I cry, struggling to fight when he is literally offering me everything I want.

  “I would rather write songs and sing them to you than play twisted versions of my heart to screaming fans. I don’t want to be famous if it means I can’t have you.”

  My heart catches in my throat as I melt at his words. “Then ask me again,” I whisper, my entire body shaking.

  Pulling his head back, he sucks in a ragged breath and meets my eyes with so much pain and passion in his I think I might die. “Do you want me, Lisa?”

  I press my lips together as a tear slides from my eye. “Yes.”

  He groans as he crashes our mouths together, his hand on the back of my head while his tongue dominates my mouth, kissing me intensely before pulling back, his breath shaky as his fingers brush through my hair. “Give me more,” he forces out. “I want to hear it all.”

  “I want you,” I whisper, and he kisses me again.

  “More.”

  “I need you.” He grips my hips and presses himself against me.

  “More, Lisa. Tell me how you feel.”

  “I love you,” I admit, my heart racing from speaking the words I’ve been petrified of acknowledging.

  “I fucking knew you did,” he says as he picks me up and carries me to his room, setting me on the bed and climbing over me, gently biting my bottom lip.

  “Yeah?”

  He nods. “I know what you want. And I know I’m the only man who can give it to you.”

  “Yes,” I admit again, crying because my life feels shattered but held together, and it’s this man above me with his relentless pursuit who’s making that happen. I love him.

  “Tell me again.”

  “I want you, Marcus.”

  He runs his tongue over the shell of my ear. “What else?”

  “I need you.” He hums appreciatively as he slips his hand between us, shoving my panties to the side as he thrusts two fingers inside me.

  “And?” He lifts his head and moans, his eyes fluttering closed as my juices coat him and I rock my hips to meet the depth of his movement.

  “And I love you.” He curls his fingers inside me, massaging my g-spot. Oh god.

  “Will you stop pushing me away?” he asks, thrusting his fingers deeper. “Quit telling me we won’t work and let me be the man you need me to be?”

  A moan leaves my mouth as I nod. “Yes. I want that,” I gasp. “I’m yours. Completely.”

  “Yeah. You fucking are,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers from inside me before running my juices over my bottom lip then pushing inside my mouth. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted.” I suck on them, moaning as I taste myself on him, my core tightening at the dark desire flooding his eyes as he watches his fingers move past my lips before he withdraws them from my mouth, running them down my chin until his hand wraps around my neck. “And I’m never letting you go.”

  I gasp, my nipples going rock hard as he squeezes, balancing on his knees as he frees himself from his jeans then shoves my dress up, tugging at the side seam of my panties until it breaks and they’re nothing but a scrap around my other thigh. “Then squeeze harder,” I force out, losing my mind as he pushes his big cock inside me and tightens his grip.

  My hands wrap around his forearm, my lungs fighting for air as he pummels with his hips. In and out. In and out. He fucks with agonising precision, a slow torture of the senses dancing along that fine line between pleasure and pain.

  “You are so fucking perfect for me, Lisa. So perfect.”

  My body ignites, my nerve endings surging as I tip my head back and open my mouth as my climax hits with a blinding light. He releases my throat, and a word escapes, the only one that matters. “Marcus.”

  His hips jam against mine as he hisses through clenched teeth, spilling himself inside me. “Fuck. I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Good,” I force out, trying to catch my breath. “Because you know what’ll happen if you ever stray.”

  He laughs as he leans down and kisses me softly. “I could never. I don’t cheat.”

  “Promise me. Promise me I’m the only one. Promise me you’ll never make me share you.”

  He brushes his fingers through my hair as he looks into my eyes, conjuring up the maximum amount of sincerity a person can possess. “I promise you. I have zero interest in any woman but you. I love you. Only you. There’s no one else as perfect for me.”

  “OK,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes as I nod. “Let’s run away together.”

  He grins. “We’re not running away. We’re choosing a happy life.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Fourteen

  Marcus

  “Where do you want to live?” I ask, tracing my fingers up and down Lisa’s arm as she presses her body against me, her hand moving lightly across my chest. She feels so right in my arms, perfect in my bed. I’ve actually never brought a woman in here before, so that’s
something huge in itself. Since I met her that day in the studio, I’ve become one hundred percent unequivocally devoted to her. I can’t think about another woman. I can’t imagine ever wanting to think about another woman. I met her and my world changed. She’s everything I was looking for. Even if she lied about who she was.

  As much as I hate that she didn’t tell me, I can understand her reasons behind it. Being famous isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and when things go bad, the whole world has an opinion. My success came off the back of a tantrum I threw onstage. When your emotions are pushed to the limit and you live life in the public eye, someone is inevitably going to have a camera phone trained on you when you crack. Sometimes it makes you more famous, sometimes it ruins your career.

  “Let’s go to the country,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to my skin.

  “Hmm, we can have horses.”

  “And chickens.”

  “You want chickens?”

  She nods and tilts her head up so she can see me. “I’ve always dreamed of being completely self sufficient. Grow my own food, be one with nature. It’d be incredible to shut off all the noise and forget about money and fame. It blackens the heart.”

  I nod. “Can we make like, a sex dungeon in this country ranch of ours?” I ask, primarily teasing but kind of liking the idea of a room dedicated to getting our kink on and testing our limits.

  “We can do whatever you like.” She presses herself up, arms folded across my chest as her breasts brush against my side. I’m not even sure what time it is. But it’s pitch black outside and we’ve already had sex three times. I’m guessing it’s close to midnight. “It’ll be our private world.”

  I twirl my fingers through the messy length of her hair. “Our world. I like the sound of that,” I say.

  “I’m still kind of blown away by you wanting to leave with me. Are you sure it’s what you want? Because you can change your mind and I’ll understand. It’s a lot to give up.”

  “I’m sure.” I give her hair a gentle tug and she smiles. “Remember when I first met you? All I wanted was to stop, take a moment and make a real connection with someone who wasn’t interested in me for my fame. I wanted to remember what it was like to be normal so I could appreciate this extravagant life I’ve been given, come back fresh so I could finish out my contract with a clear head. But the longer I spent with you, the further I fell, the more I realised that I hate this life. I hate the man I am when I’m Marcus Bailey, rock star. I like who I am with you, just Marcus, the guy who will do anything to be with his girl.”

  “I love you,” she says, and the power she puts behind her words makes me feel like a king. I’ve been on stage with tens of thousands of fans screaming that they love me. But it’s never felt like this.

  “I love you too,” I say, crunching down to kiss her lightly when the elevator pings, signalling I have a visitor. “What the hell?” Shifting Lisa to the side, I swing my legs out of bed and pull on a pair of pants.

  “Was that the lift?”

  “Yeah. Wait here.” I stand and tuck myself inside them, buttoning the fly.

  “People can just come up here?”

  “If they have the key.”

  “Who has the key?”

  “Karen and—”

  “Marcus? Where the fuck are you?”

  I let out a sigh. “And my manager, Craig.”

  “He sounds pissed.”

  “Well, I don’t answer his calls anymore.” Leaning down, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Stay in bed. I’ll get rid of him.”

  She pulls the sheet over her body. “OK.”

  “Marcus!”

  I find Craig standing in the kitchen pouring himself three fingers of Macallan. “Help yourself, mate,” I say, stopping at the far end of the granite bench top as I watch him gulp it down like cordial.

  “I need this,” he says, slamming his glass down and refilling it. “You have no idea of the calamity you two have caused out there. I needed a cattle prod to get through the paparazzi, and the fans. There’s a group for ‘Leave Leisel Alone’, a group to bring her back, and a group of your fans crying because they were sure you were waiting for them but you chose Leisel Marx instead. One of them is wearing a wedding dress.”

  “What? How would they even know any of that? All we did was get in an Uber together.”

  “After threatening Jonathan Masters because, and I quote, ‘she’s yours.’ Then offering the security guard ten grand to stop Masters from following her—and creating a fire hazard, mind you—then arguing in the street and sticking your tongue down her throat.”

  I run my hand through my hair and blow out a breath. “Shit. They caught all that?”

  “Imagine how I felt when my fucking phone went crazy and I was asked to confirm your relationship with Leisel Marx. I told them you’d never met the girl. Then they sent me photos and now I look like a fuckwit because I can’t keep track of my own artist. Do you know how I found you, Marcus? TM-fucking-Z. You’re worldwide news again. But this time they think you’ve gone insane. And I’m inclined to fucking agree. Leisel Marx? Leisel fucking Marx? Of all the women in the world you hooked up with the psycho ex of Jonathan Masters?”

  “Don’t call her that?”

  “But am I wrong? You know what she did. What happens when you go on tour and she finds out how many groupies you like screwing? You think she’ll be cool with it?”

  “I wouldn’t screw around on her.”

  “Come off it, mate. I’ve known you for two years and fucking is what you do. You’re a sex symbol. A rock star. You think fans will line up to meet you if they find out your dick’s off the table?”

  “My dick isn’t a commodity. I’m committed to Lisa and I’m not going on tour again. So this is a moot point.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I’m done.”

  “You can’t. You’re under contract.”

  “I’ll buy out my contract.”

  “The label won’t agree to that. They’ll sue you. You’ll be ruined.”

  “I don’t care.” I take the whiskey he poured and down it, placing the glass in my sink before turning away from him. Craig isn’t a bad guy. But he is a corporate guy. And all they care about is the mighty dollar. “See yourself out, will you?”

  “Marcus.”

  “This isn’t negotiable,” I throw over my shoulder. “I’m done.”

  “You’re ruining your life, Marcus.”

  “No. I’m retiring early.”

  “She’s just a cunt, mate. A hole to fuck. She isn’t worth going broke over.”

  I stop walking. “Say that again and I’ll break your fucking nose.” When I turn, there’s fear in his eyes.

  “Do you know what the press are calling her? The honey badger. There’s already memes about her running you down with a car. She’s not stable.”

  “They’re calling me what?” Lisa appears at the entrance of the kitchen wearing the dress she had on this evening.

  “It doesn’t matter, baby,” I say, moving to take her hands in mine. “Just go back to bed. I’ll be in in a minute.”

  “A honey badger,” Craig snaps. “And I’m inclined to agree. You’ve come in here and torn apart his fucking career without any regard for the rest of us.”

  “No, I—”

  “Shut up, Craig,” I growl, moving to stand between them. But the dickhead doesn’t listen.

  “What is all this? Some sick way of getting the limelight back on you? Daddy doesn’t want you, so you’re going for Marcus? What are you going to do when he cheats on you like Masters did? Cut his dick off?”

  “No. I never—”

  “Shut your fucking mouth, Craig. I pursued her. She didn’t ask for any of this.”

  “Oh come on, Marcus. You can’t possibly be that dumb. She’s been playing you the whole time. As if she didn’t know who you were. Everyone knows who you are. As if she didn’t know she’d be recognised tonight and you’d be at that club. She probably organi
sed the whole thing. She’s played you like a fiddle and you’re so cock obsessed with her skanky little snatch that you can’t even see it.”

  Red. The only colour I see is red.

  Lisa

  My mouth drops open in a gasp as Marcus’s arm cocks back and his fist slams into Craig’s face with a bone-cracking crunch. The force causes Craig to stumble back inside. “Get the fuck away from us,” he booms.

  “My nose. You broke my fucking nose.” Blood streams down his face as he groans and spits on the floor.

  “I warned you.” Marcus grabs Craig by the back of his shirt and rushes him towards the lift. “Get the fuck out of here and don’t come near me again.”

  Craig digs in his pocket and throws the plastic security key at Marcus’s chest. “You’re gonna regret this, Marcus. I will ruin you.”

  “Do your worst.” Marcus leans into the lift and smacks his hand against the keypad. “I don’t give a fucking shit.”

  As the elevator doors close, Craig continues to curse Marcus and me to an eternity of damnation.

  “Your manager is lovely,” I say, offering Marcus a smile as he blows out his breath.

  “Ex-manager,” he replies, turning his sorry eyes to mine.

  “Do you really think he’ll ruin you?”

  “If the label sues? Probably.” He bounces a shoulder.

  “You’re not freaking out about that?”

  “I was a struggling musician for far longer than I’ve been a wealthy one. So I lose the bling? It’s not like I’ve had time to enjoy it, anyway.”

  “That makes me really sad.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not. Unless you don’t think you can love the poor man.”

  “Of course I can. I don’t care about money. I just don’t want you to regret letting go of all of this. Maybe there’s a compromise you can come to instead of just throwing it all away?”

  He sighs as he drags his teeth over his bottom lip. “The last time I went on tour, I demanded an entire floor of the hotel to myself. Then I spent the whole time getting wasted and hitting golf balls down the hallway. All by myself because I couldn’t stand to listen to one more fake laugh, see one more fake smile. Does that sound like fun to you?”