by Lynn LaFleur
Abby didn’t know if that was supposed to be a warning for her to stop, but she had no intention of stopping. A moment later, his warm essence filled her mouth. She swallowed every drop and kept sucking his softening cock until Brett once again lay still.
She crawled up his body, draped her arm across his waist and rested her cheek on his chest. Brett kissed the top of her head as he enfolded her in his arms.
“You continue to surprise me.”
She cuddled closer to him. “Surely I’m not the first woman who’s ever done that.”
He kissed her head again. “You’re the first woman who’s ever done it from love and not just to impress me.”
She thought of all the different ways they’d loved each other at Whispers…ways she’d only imagined experiencing with a man. “I’ve never been very adventurous in sex. I’ve dreamed about doing things that shocked even me, but I never had a partner I trusted enough to try them. ”
“I’ll never break your trust, Abby. I’ll try anything you want to.”
She rested her hand on his chest and propped her chin on it. “Even go back to The Castle and try out one of the playrooms?”
A wicked grin crossed Brett’s lips. “I do like the way you think.”
Abby laid her cheek on his chest again. This time she noticed a framed photograph on his nightstand…a photograph of her and Brett dancing the tango at Whispers. She leaned over Brett and picked up the frame.
“Who took this?”
“We have a photographer on staff at Whispers. I asked him to take a picture of us while we danced.”
The photographer had caught them when Brett held Abby’s leg next to his hip. The expression on Brett’s face was a mixture of delight and passion. Abby saw the same emotions reflected in hers.
Brett ran his hand through her hair. “It was the first time we tangoed, sweetheart, but it won’t be the last. I plan to tango with you for the rest of my life.”
The love in his eyes brought tears to Abby’s. He smiled at her so tenderly before he pulled her closer for his kiss…a kiss that held a promise of now, and forever.
The End
About the Authors
Lynn LaFleur was born and raised in a small town in Texas close to the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Writing has been in her blood since she was eight years old and wrote her first “story” for an English assignment.
As well as writing at every possible moment, Lynn enjoys reading, scrapbooking, photography and learning new things on the computer. She’s a software junky and loves to try out new programs, especially anything to do with graphics.
After living on the West Coast for 21 years, Lynn now lives 17 miles from her hometown in Texas. She’s a romantic at heart and can’t imagine ever writing anything but romances. A full-time writer, she spends her days creating stories of people who find their happily ever after, sometimes with the help of an alien or psychic or vampire.
Randi Monroe is part of that rare species—a native Californian. Born and raised in Southern California, she makes sure she never strays far from the ocean, which she considers essential to balance the fire in her Aries soul.
A romantic down to her toes, Randi wrote her first romance at thirteen, a short story based solely on her imagination since she wasn’t allowed to date until she was sixteen. As a Sweet Sixteen gift, Randi’s aunt treated her to her first Tarot reading. From the turn of the first card, she knew the metaphysical would always be a part of her life and her stories.
When Randi’s not writing scintillating tales of erotic romance, she enjoys painting and sculpting, jogging on the beach with her Great Dane, Shazam, and living happily ever after with her own Prince Charming of twenty years.
The authors welcome comments from readers. You can find their websites and email addresses on their author bio pages at www.ellorascave.com.
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A Different Path
Lynn LaFleur & Randi Monroe
Part of the Tarot Café Series
Rock superstar P.J. Kendall has it all—fame, money, women. Instead of being happy, he wonders how he can disappear and leave all his obligations—and the drinking, drugs and too many women—behind. A freak accident turns out to be the chance P.J. needs to follow a different path. He alters his appearance and now using the name James Parker, he heads for Texas.
It’s lust at first sight when Teanna Caldwell sees the handsome yet oddly familiar stranger outside her family’s pharmacy. Passion soon erupts between them. James is an incredible lover, and a kind and understanding man. Still Teanna cannot stop the niggling suspicion that he’s hiding something from her.
With Teanna, James has found his soul mate and the life he’s always wanted. But will Teanna still love him when she discovers their relationship is built on lies?
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
A Different Path
ISBN 9781419926792
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
A Different Path Copyright © 2010 Lynn LaFleur
Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication March 2010
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
A Different Path
Lynn LaFleur & Randi Monroe
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Coke: The Coca-Cola Company Corporation
Crown Royal: Diageo North America, Inc.
The Ten of Wands
The Weight of Ambition ~ The Burden of Success
Chapter One
Taho
e Towers, Lake Tahoe North Shore
December 12
The cheering and applause of eight hundred people filled the room, rising to a deafening level. P.J. Kendall shot one fist into the air, his signal for the end of the concert. The din rose even higher, along with chants of “P.J.! P.J.! P.J.!”
Sweat poured down his face and neck. Adrenaline rushed through his body, as it did after every concert. No matter if he played to five hundred or fifty thousand, he still felt the audience’s energy flow into his body.
No drug had ever given him such a high.
The thought of drugs made him hesitate in mid-step while leaving the stage. The routine never changed after a show. The band members would congregate in his Tahoe Towers suite for an after-concert party. There would be food, drinks and the band’s pick of women for the night. It wouldn’t take long for the lines of coke, X and joints to appear. Soon clothes would start to disappear. Hard cocks would fill mouths, pussies and asses. There would be one mass of bodies, impossible to tell which arms and legs belonged to which person.
It happened after every show. It would happen again tonight.
Security quickly ushered P.J. and the other band members toward a service elevator. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the back wall, the voices of his band members buzzing around him. It all sounded like gibberish.
He jerked when someone slapped him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Will Bonner grinning at him.
“Hey, P.J.! Time to par-tay!”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice flat. Will was a great lead guitarist and vocalist, but he was always the first one at the bar.
Will’s grin faded. “What’s wrong, man?”
“Just tired.”
“Well, I know how to fix that.” His grin returned and he slipped an arm around P.J.’s shoulder. “A cute little honey with a nice tight cunt will bring you back to life.”
P.J. managed a weak smile. “Yeah. That’ll do it.”
The elevator doors opened. P.J. waited for the rest of his band to exit first. They each went to their own rooms to clean up and change clothes before they wound up in P.J.’s suite. They’d be there until early morning.
P.J. saw the closed deadbolt resting against the strike plate of the door to his suite. That must mean Rusty was already here. Rusty left the door ajar so people could come and go at will without a key card. P.J. pushed the door open to find his brother pacing in front of the large plate glass windows, cell phone pressed to his ear. P.J. headed straight for the bar. Instead of his usual beer, he opened a bottle of water.
“No, that won’t work,” he heard Rusty say. “The band will be in Seattle then… Yeah, all over the west coast before we head east… You’ll guarantee that? In writing?” Rusty smiled. “Great. Email the details to me.”
Still smiling, Rusty disconnected his call and faced P.J. “Got the band bumped up to May in Atlantic City.”
“Great.”
P.J. had tried to sound excited, but his voice had come out flat. Rusty’s smile disappeared. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He drained the bottle in one long gulp. “It’s been a long week. I’m glad this gig is done.”
“I’m glad we were rescheduled after you lost your voice last month. Leon Blackstone was very understanding about us canceling at the last minute.”
P.J. turned away from Rusty so his brother wouldn’t see the guilt in his eyes. He’d pretended to lose his voice. He knew it wasn’t fair to the fans who had paid for tickets, but he simply hadn’t been able to take another night of the insane after-concert activities. Pretending that he couldn’t sing had given him a week off…a week of solitude away from his band, away from Rusty, away from everyone.
Rusty told him Leon Blackstone, the owner of Tahoe Towers, had honored the price of the tickets for a future concert of the ticket holders’ choice. That helped ease his guilt.
“You sure you’re okay?” Rusty asked.
No, I’m not okay. I gotta get out of here.
“I’m not in a partying mood tonight, bro. Give me the keys to the SUV. I’m gonna take a drive.”
“A drive? It snowed six inches today.”
“The roads were plowed. I checked.”
“They’re plowed now, but it’s supposed to snow again after midnight.”
“I’m a big boy, Rusty. I know how to drive in snow.”
“But it’s dark outside. You won’t see anything now.”
“I just want to unwind a bit. Driving relaxes me, you know that.”
Rusty didn’t look convinced. If his brother didn’t give him the keys to his rented SUV, P.J. would simply rent a vehicle himself.
Instead of the argument P.J. sensed coming, Rusty dug the keys out of his pocket and handed them to P.J. “You want some company?”
“No. But thanks for the offer.” He squeezed Rusty’s shoulder. “I’m gonna change out of these sweaty clothes before I go.”
He headed for the bedroom, but stopped halfway across the living room when Rusty spoke again.
“P.J.?”
He looked at Rusty over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“You know I’m here if you need to talk.”
P.J. did know that. Rusty had always been there for him, no matter what. He smiled. “Yeah, I know. That means a lot to me.”
*
P.J. had planned to only change clothes, but decided he wouldn’t be able to stand himself closed up in that SUV unless he showered. He heard the voices and laughter as soon as he turned off the water, proof that some of the band members were already here. They must be in a hurry to get the party started. Saturday nights were always the rowdiest since the band didn’t have another concert until Wednesday night. They could party until morning, then sleep off the hangovers on Sunday. P.J. knew the routine since he’d participated more times than he could count over the last nine years.
He tugged on faded jeans and a navy T-shirt. A dark red billed cap with the Tahoe Towers logo sat on the dresser, a souvenir he’d bought yesterday to add to his collection of caps. Fans would recognize him in a second by his long blond hair. He gathered it up on top of his head and covered it with the cap. He bypassed the large, dark-shaded glasses he always wore in public, choosing a pair with small clear lenses instead.
P.J. slipped the glasses case into his pocket and checked himself in the mirror. Without the long hair hanging down and shaded glasses covering his eyes, he should be able to make it through the hotel without anyone recognizing him.
He hoped.
Laughter and music greeted him when he opened his bedroom door. Will was already guzzling down a beer while Rusty spoke with him. A.B. Lowder hadn’t wasted any time in picking up a couple of cuties. The band’s drummer sat on one of the long couches, a brunette straddling his lap. Her blouse lay open and he sucked on one of her nipples while the second girl sucked on the other one. Normally P.J. would join them. Tonight, he only wanted to get away.
Rusty glanced his direction. P.J. nodded his head at his brother and headed for the door. Luckily Will’s back was to him and A.B. was occupied, so they didn’t see him leave.
His luck ran out when he opened the door to see Art McGill, Dane Atkins and Neil Truesdale. The rest of his band walked down the hall toward him.
“Where ya goin’, P.J.?” Art asked. His voice sounded slurred, his eyes looked glassy. Apparently he’d already started partying before he got here.
“I’ll be back later. You guys have fun.”
“Wait a minute,” Neil said. “We got some hot gals on the way.” He winked and nudged P.J. in the ribs. “Found a blonde with big tits, just the way you like ‘em.”
Art and Dane laughed while P.J. did his best not to grimace. “You guys get her all warmed up for me, okay?”
“Will do.” Neil leaned closer and spoke into P.J.’s ear. “I like blondes with big tits too.”
“Hell, man,” Dane said, “you just like pussy.”
Still laughing, Art and Dane went into P.J.’s suite wi
th Neil close behind them. P.J. slipped on his jacket as he walked toward the elevator. He pulled up the collar, hunched his shoulders to hide his beard and buried his hands in the pockets, trying his best to blend into the surroundings.
He passed dozens of people while he walked through the casino and lobby and out to the parking lot. No one gave him a second look, but he didn’t breathe easier until he sat behind the wheel of the SUV.
P.J. took a deep breath, released it slowly and backed out of the parking space. He turned the radio to a New Age station…far different from the rock his band played. He had no set destination in mind, no place in particular to go. He wanted to escape, to distance himself from the insane mess his life had become.
If only for an evening.
*
The cold seeping into his bones woke P.J. He opened his eyes slowly and frowned, unsure of his surroundings. The previous evening came back to him when he saw the tall trees all around him. He’d pulled off I-80 when he began to get tired and parked beneath the trees to catch some sleep. He hadn’t wanted to chance falling asleep behind the wheel. With his heavy jacket and the couple of blankets Rusty had in the SUV, P.J. had stayed warm until a few minutes ago.
A glance at his watch showed him it was almost seven-thirty. He raised his seat from reclining to upright. More snow had fallen during the night, dusting the windshield. He started the motor and turned on the wipers to clear the snow. A shiver flowed through his body. Coffee would be a really good thing right now.
P.J. made his way back to I-80 and turned east. He thought he was close to Truckee. He hoped so. That coffee was sounding better and better.
He took the first cutoff for the town and slowly drove down the street. This early on a Sunday, he might have a hard time finding a place open. Right now, he’d settle for a fast food restaurant as long as he could get caffeine.
A large wooden A-frame caught his eye. As he drove closer, he could make out the sign above the entrance—The Tarot Café. There were only two cars in the lot, but he could see lights inside, so it must be open.
P.J. pulled into the lot next to another SUV. He checked the mirror to be sure his hair was still under his cap. Satisfied with his disguise, he left his vehicle and headed for the front door.