Backstage Billionaires: The Complete Serial (Menage Romance)

by Marie Carnay

  Dipping his head, he captured it with his mouth, sucking the hard bud as he bucked his hips. Her pussy gripped him so hard, he knew he wouldn’t last. Rachel needed to let herself go. He wanted her coming with him.

  She moaned again and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down on top of her.

  “Mmm. Harder, Brooks. Fuck me harder.”

  Brooks growled his agreement, pumping harder, slamming into her with such force, the counter creaked and cracked in protest. She rocked beneath him, moving her hips up to meet his, but it wasn’t enough.

  He pulled out and grabbed her by the waist. With one swift move, she was off the counter and on her feet, naked and ready. He turned her around and spread her legs, kicking them wider with his feet. Her bare ass stuck up in the air and her dripping pussy gaped and winked at him. Palming her back, he bent her over, and as she turned her head to look at him he thrust. He buried himself so deep, she cried out in shock.

  Fuck. She was made for him. The way her body gripped him tight. The way she surrendered and gave him everything. Holding her steady, he let her have it, fucking her so hard all she could do was let him. Her fingers gripped the counter and with every stroke, her tits swayed and bounced beneath her. She was a damn goddess of sex and he wanted to last forever—take her every way imaginable and some twice. But they had plenty of time for that.

  As his orgasm built, he reached down and found her clit, stroking in time with his thrusts. In mere seconds, she came again, squeezing him so tight, he had no choice but to follow. Her body shook and her pussy clenched in rhythmic waves, milking his cock as they orgasmed together.

  After they’d both come down and could breathe again, he pulled back and tossed the condom in the trash. He pulled his jeans up and grabbed her robe, helping her slip it back on as she smiled up at him. Cinching the tie around her middle, he grinned. “So will you let me?”

  “Let you what?”

  “Make some calls. Set up some meetings with other labels.”

  “You really would do that for me?”

  “I’d do anything you want. Hell, I’m a billionaire for god sakes. I’m not like Alec—I don’t throw my money around and show off—but if there’s something I can do, some way I can make you understand…I’ll do it.”

  “I think you did a damn fine job of that already.” She leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. “But if you insist, okay. Make some calls. I’ll meet with other labels.”

  “Good.” Brooks picked up his shirt and tugged it over his head. “I’ll head straight to the office and set it up.”

  “Okay.”

  He pulled away from her and headed for the door, thoughts already drifting to whom to call and what strings to pull.

  “Brooks?”

  He spun back around. “Yeah?”

  “What about Alec?”

  “He’ll come around. Don’t you worry.”

  8

  Rachel bent the straw back and forth, flexing the plastic and trying to calm her jitters. When A&R for Avenue called only an hour after Brooks had left, she couldn’t believe it. They produced some of the biggest talent of the last five years. Bubble gum pop, the latest boy band. At least five of the best-selling albums of the past year. She might have stumbled into the demo at Falcon, but this time she came prepared. And nervous as hell.

  She took a sip of coffee and shook her head in wonder. Only that morning she’d thought her hopes were dashed. One reckless night with Brooks and Alec and any chance at a music career were over. She hadn’t just had a fling. She’d slept with the playboys of the industry. Everyone would think she did it to get ahead and score a record deal. Even if she didn’t sign with them…If word got out she’d been with them…It was all so tawdry and salacious. Not her at all.

  Although Melanie had a point—since launching Falcon they’d been on best behavior—she’d met them like all the others. Alec had used whatever magic God and money had given him to drop her panties. Less than a day later, she’d given it all away. She frowned and concentrated on the grain of the wood tabletop. The contract they offered might be the only one to come her way, but how could she sign it now? After the night before? After they lied?

  Rachel checked her watch. Ten after three. The guy from Avenue was late. Not a good sign. Maybe he’d changed his mind and wasn’t interested. She knew she wasn’t their usual cup of tea—not thin enough, commercial enough, pretty enough. It’d be a stretch to get signed by a label like them. But Brooks had set it up. He wouldn’t have pulled those strings if he didn’t think she had a shot…would he?

  Brooks. She smiled despite her nerves as the waitress walked over.

  “More coffee?”

  “Yes, please. Thanks.” She held out her mug and the woman filled it up.

  As she walked away, she couldn’t shake the surprise of the morning out of her head. Brooks’s strong hands picking her up. His earnest stare begging for all she could give. His words making her believe it was possible. Thank god Melanie’d already left for the day. Otherwise, she’d have had to turn him down. Or give her best friend one hell of a show.

  Screw the label meeting. If Brooks were here, she’d wrap herself up in his arms and beg him to take her way. Somewhere he could press his body up against her. Use that magic tongue and shoot stars behind her eyes. Thrust his cock deep inside her. Hell, she could live on it—on him.

  When he’d offered to call other labels…to let her go as an artist to keep her in his bed…She didn’t know what to think. If it were true, then he really did want her for more than a fling. But what about Alec? He’d been the one to come on to her from the start. The one she’d opened up to first. And the three of them together…Good god. She squirmed on the bench seat just thinking about it. Confused didn’t begin to describe her state of mind.

  She blew on the coffee and took a sip before glancing up at the front of the restaurant. She tried to swallow, but almost choked. That’s got to be him. Pinstripe suit. Hair slicked back. Fancy watch. His whole look screamed money and business and impatience as he leaned over the hostess stand and scanned the booths. The complete opposite of Brooks in every way. She took a full breath and waved.

  He strode across the linoleum with purpose, black loafers clacking in even rhythm. “Ms. Madison. Pleasure. Rich Garrett.” He held out his hand and she took it, shaking once before letting go.

  As he slid into the booth, he set a leather portfolio on the table. All business is right. Not even a hint of a smile. Nothing but cold, harsh reality.

  She straightened up and tried to make eye contact. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Garrett.”

  He nodded and flipped the portfolio open. “Mr. Sullivan forwarded me your demo. It shows some promise.”

  She swallowed and her nerves increased tenfold. Heart hammering in her chest, fingers shaking as she gripped her cup. Shows some promise. “Okay.”

  “But as I’m sure you’re aware, we produce top forty. We don’t just ride current trends, we make them. We start the wave.”

  Rachel squeezed the mug tighter and hoped the tremor in her hands didn’t show. “I am aware, yes.”

  “Good. Well, then you also know that as you are, you don’t fit Avenue’s mold. Your sound is too sultry. Too dark. You’d need to lighten up, probably have a voice coach.”

  Her eyes went wide, but she managed to nod. “I see.”

  “And your songs—both the melodies and the lyrics—they’re too singer-songwriter. Makes me think of a smoky bar, not selling out an arena.”

  “You think I could sell out an arena?”

  The waitress came back over and the man smiled at her. “Coffee, black, please.”

  She flipped over his mug and poured it full. As she walked away, he turned back to Rachel. “Like I said, we don’t generally sign mid-list talent. We only look for artists with the biggest potential and then we turn them into stars. If you sign with us, you’ll have so many fans, arenas will be the only size venue you’ll play.”

  Arenas. Wow. She’
d never thought about what it meant to be an artist for Avenue. Part of her wanted to stay small for a while—keep playing bars and smoky clubs, develop a fan base, stay true to her sound. But she’d left Modesto and her deadbeat boyfriend to make it. Not scrape by.

  She took a sip of coffee and smiled. “If I showed enough promise, how soon could this all get started?”

  Mr. Garrett looked her up and down. “It depends on myriad factors. Whether we have an opening in our current repertoire for a solo female artist, whether you could adapt to our song selection, how fast you could get in shape.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Our product development department would handle those issues. Your new look, sound, the complete package. It’s all developed months before a single release.”

  Rachel frowned. “So all your musicians are products?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “I’ve never really considered my music to be a product, to be honest…But I can work with that, I guess.” Rachel was overwhelmed. First he said she had promise, then he said everything about her needed to change. Which was it?

  He frowned and pulled a business card out of his case. “Well, we do the considering if you don’t mind. Here.”

  He slid the card across the counter and she picked it up. Bodies by Reggie. What? She glanced back up.

  “In the event we do offer you a contract, the faster you can change your look, the better. He can help.”

  “You think I need a personal trainer?”

  “We don’t do plus-size talent, Ms. Madison.”

  Her cheeks flushed crimson and she slipped the business card into her purse. “I understand.”

  “I don’t.”

  She looked up in alarm. “Alec!”

  “Rachel.” He gave her a smile and her brain misfired. Would he always do that to her? Damn. Alec turned to the record executive and his expression soured. “Rich. I wish I could say I’m pleased to see you.”

  “Alec.”

  “I take it this is a business meeting? I didn’t know you were interested in labels like Avenue, Rachel. Frankly, I think they’re beneath you.”

  Rachel’s mouth fell open and she flicked her gaze back and forth between both men. “I—I’m honored to even have the opportunity for such a meeting.”

  Mr. Garrett nodded and popped his sleeve before looking at his watch. “Like I said, Ms. Madison, it’s been a pleasure. But, I have no interest in getting in the middle of whatever this is.”

  Rachel opened her mouth to apologize when Alec held up his hand. “Rich, my apologies. If you are seriously interested in Ms. Madison, I won’t stand in your way. In fact, we’re having a media event tomorrow night, and I was going to ask her if she’d like to perform.”

  “You were?” Her voice squeaked on the last syllable.

  He gave her a nod. “Yes. So, if you’d like to evaluate her in person, how about you come? Cocktails start at eight.”

  Mr. Garrett glanced at Rachel and then turned back to Alec. “This isn’t some sort of set up, is it Alec? I’m not interested in any of your games.”

  “No games, just a nice party. We’ll have champagne. Even caviar, Rich. I know you like the imported stuff.”

  Mr. Garrett slid out of the booth and tossed a twenty onto the table. “I’ll see what I can do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.” He turned to Rachel. “We’ll be in touch.”

  “Yes.” She scrambled out of the booth and held out her hand. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

  He took it with a slight frown. “Good day.”

  “Well, he certainly lacks for charm.” Alec shrugged and gave her a grin. “Now that you’re alone, we can talk business. Did you get the contract?”

  Rachel couldn’t believe it. Alec had just chased off a man from one of the biggest labels around and told her that she was performing for Falcon at some event without even asking. Now he was asking about the contract. The arrogance. Her hands found her hips and she glared. “You have some nerve, Mr. Wells. Coming in here and chasing that man off. Brooks set that meeting up.”

  “Mmm. I like it when you call me Mr. Wells. Sounds so dirty.”

  “Then that’s the last time you’ll hear me say it.”

  He grinned. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  A blush crept up her cheeks, but she forced herself not to reply.

  “Tell me, why did Brooks set up a meeting with Avenue? To show you how incredible Falcon is compared to the rest of the industry?”

  “No. To give me options.”

  “Bad ones, if you ask me.”

  “Well, I didn’t.” She couldn’t have this conversation now. Not when she had to think about Avenue and all they asked of her. To change her look, her sound, everything about her. If it got her a record deal…would it be worth it? She gave him a tight smile. “It’s nice to see you, Alec, but I’ve got to go.” She tried to brush past him, but he spun on his heel. He dogged her every step as she wound her way through the tables to the back entrance.

  As she paused at the door, he stepped forward. “The least I can do is walk you to your car. Did you park in the deck?”

  She nodded and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She’d been too shocked at the table to notice anything about him. But did she ever now. Low slung jeans, tight t-shirt, sunglasses holding back his mussed hair. Out of a suit, he was even sexier. Damn it. He pushed the door to the parking deck open and she made her way to her car—a dented Volvo almost as old as she was.

  “This is it. Not exactly a Ferrari, but it gets the job done.” She stuck her key in the lock and turned it, but Alec’s hand hit the door. She couldn’t open it if she tried. Twice in one day. What is it with these two?

  “Alec, please.” Rachel turned and tried not to gasp.

  In the time it’d taken her to spin around, he’d boxed her in just like Brooks had done—one hand on the door, one on the hood, body inches away.

  “Please what?” His stare locked her to the spot. Deep blue eyes shining bright. “Tell you how much I’ve missed you? How finding you gone this morning made me ache in places I didn’t know I had?”

  “You did?” Her voice warbled and she swallowed.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. How you shiver when I touch you here.” His fingers grazed her collarbone and she forced her body to stay still.

  “How you moan when I touch you here.” He snaked his hand down her side, pausing to stroke her nipple through the eyelet cotton of her dress. A tremor raced from her breast to her pussy and she whimpered.

  “How you cry out when I lick you here.” He trailed his hand down her hips and fluffed up her skirt. As she squirmed with nowhere to go, he shoved his hand beneath the cotton and stroked her panty-clad mound.

  “Alec! We’re in a parking lot!” It came out in a hiss and she wished she had fangs to back it up. The bar was bad enough. But out in the open, where anyone could see? She reached up with closed fists and pummeled his chest, but he only laughed and stroked her harder.

  “I know exactly where we are. We’re thirty feet from the entrance of the restaurant. Where you just met with our biggest competitor.”

  Her eyes bugged out and her mouth fell open. “Are—are you jealous?” He stroked her through the silk of her panties, edging deeper between her legs with every pass, until her shock eased into pleasure.

  “Insanely. You have no idea what you do to me, Rachel.” He slipped a finger beneath the silk and a moan tumbled from her lips. “Mmm. But I have a very good idea what I do to you.”

  Over and over he stroked, easing his fingers between her folds until he found her clit. She gasped as he flicked it—tight little jabs again and again—and she fought the urge to open the door and let him take her right there. Damn if he didn’t know exactly how to turn her on. He had her flying in a second, barreling toward an orgasm wonderland—it was incredible.

  “Alec, I’m—”

  “Shh. Just come for me, Rachel. Show me how much you want
me.”

  He pinched her clit, smashing the swollen nub inside its fleshy hood, and she came. The orgasm flooded her body, turned her legs to jelly, short-circuited her brain. Rolling waves of pleasure eclipsed her anger and shock. She sighed with the last of her release and he pulled his fingers from her soaked panties.

  “So fucking sweet.” He licked one finger after the other, lapping up her juices and sending a whole new tremor straight to her core. “Tell me you’ll come tomorrow night. I want to show you off. Have you wow the whole room.”

  Rachel’s body hummed and her brain misfired. “Who will be there?”

  “Everyone. Media, producers, other labels. That jerk from Avenue.”

  She blinked and he reached out, running the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. She could smell herself all over him and a thrill rushed through her. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  “And you’ll sing?”

  “Can it be one of my own?”

  “You can sing the ABCs and you’d still knock the room over.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Stop teasing.”

  “I’m not. What you choose to sing is entirely up to you, my dear. You aren’t my artist. At least, not yet. I’ll have a driver pick you up tomorrow night. Seven-thirty.”

  He stepped back and she opened the car door. “Thank you, Alec.”

  “No. Thank you, Rachel. Thank you.”

  She watched him walk away and as he disappeared around the corner of the parking garage, she slid into the driver’s seat and closed her eyes. She’d never managed one man for more than a few months. But two? She couldn’t do it for a few hours. First Brooks, then Alec. One more aggressive than the next. Both sexy, intense, and totally into her. It made no sense.

  Avenue wanted her to change her sound, her image, micromanage all aspects of her career. But Alec and Brooks wanted…just her. Maybe singing at a Falcon party was exactly what she needed to make up her mind. Figure out whether she could be part of their label and part of their lives or whether she needed to choose.

  As she put the key in the ignition, her phone buzzed. “Hey, Melanie.”