Staged

by Olivia Cunning

  He groaned and pulled her against his bare chest. “Now that you mention it . . .”

  “You’re getting her all sweaty,” Raven complained loudly.

  “I’m just getting started,” he assured her.

  “What, you can’t keep your hands off her for a couple of hours?”

  “Hell no.” Now that their secret was out in the open, he hadn’t just let off the brakes, he’d removed them entirely.

  “The helicopter is landing!” Reagan shouted, and hugged the nearest person, who happened to be Max.

  “Helicopter?” Steve glanced around and found Sam beaming with pride.

  “Only the best for my stars,” he said.

  “Who authorized this expense?” Max asked, patting Reagan, who was shaking with excitement.

  “Don’t worry about that. You’re going to make a grand entrance at the castle after-party.”

  “What castle?” Max asked.

  “The one you rented for the night. I’d say ladies first, but we all know who the guests really want to see. The helicopter will come back and get the pretty ones after they drop off our meal tickets.” Sam had the nerve to laugh at his own joke.

  “Are you daft?” Max asked him. “You keep reminding us that our record sales are down, and then you rent a castle and a helicopter for an after-party? What is wrong with you?”

  “Keeping up appearances,” Sam said. “Now hurry. Time is money, and you’re wasting time. Be sure to schmooze your asses off. Your fifty ultra-VIP guests’ tickets more than paid for the helicopter, the hall rental, and the open bar.”

  “Un-fucking-believable,” Steve grumbled, his previous good mood turning sour in an instant. He scarcely felt the swift kiss he offered Roux before he left her and climbed aboard the helicopter with his bandmates. The only one who was remotely excited about their flight was Reagan.

  “Can we reevaluate when we’ll fire that dumbass?” Steve said, speaking loudly to be heard over the helicopter blades. “I know we decided to wait until after the tour, but if he keeps pulling this sort of extravagant bullshit, we need to ax him immediately.”

  “He said it’s paid for,” Max said.

  “I wonder what he charged our so-called ultra-VIP guests,” Dare said, likely doing the math in his head.

  “If it’s ten bucks, it’s more than we’re worth,” Logan said with a laugh. He leaned toward the window and pointed down at a race circuit as they passed overhead. “They have motorcycle races down there. Speed bikes, not dirt, so more up Steve’s alley than mine.” He slapped Steve’s knee. “Hey, maybe we should rent the track and some bikes and have a race.”

  Steve was too pissed to be slightly tempted by thoughts of racing a bike around the track. He refused to even admit that it sounded fun. Beyond the racetrack were fields of tents—the campsites of festivalgoers.

  “So what are we going to do about Sam?” he asked, still talking loudly.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Max yelled. “Try to reel him in a bit.”

  “How about I reel him in completely by firing him? Tonight. I’m tired of his bullshit.”

  “The lawyers advise against it,” Dare said.

  Steve scowled. “What lawyers?”

  “You don’t think we should forge ahead without legal advice, do you?” Max said.

  Steve hadn’t thought about seeking legal counsel. He just wanted Sam to be gone. He turned to Logan. “Did you know about the lawyers?”

  Logan shook his head.

  Steve glanced from Dare to Max and back again. “So you two took it upon yourselves to hire lawyers without consulting me and Lo?”

  “Oh, look at it!” Reagan squealed, pointing out the window at a large gray stone castle.

  It was more of a rectangle than the sweeping spires Steve envisioned when he thought of castles, but impressive nonetheless. Had they really needed to rent a helicopter to fly such a short distance? How far had they flown? A mile or two? They could have easily walked that distance. Maybe not through the crowds that were making their way to the campgrounds between the racetrack and Donington Hall, but he didn’t need all the extravagance to feel like a rock star.

  Steve’s stomach dropped as the helicopter descended rapidly toward a wide-open field near the castle. He hadn’t realized it before, but there were a lot of open fields around the place. It reminded him of his family home—sans the castle, racetrack, and thousands of tents.

  “It’s my usual team of lawyers,” Dare said, drawing Steve’s attention back to the conversation. “I’ve also involved my accountant and my financial advisor.”

  “And his psychic and palm reader,” Logan added.

  Dare ignored the lame taunt. He had never been easy to bait, unless the cheap shots involved his younger brother. “We aren’t talking about just firing Baily. We’re going to destroy him legally and financially. He’ll never work in the entertainment industry again when we’re through with him. So be patient, okay? These things take time, and the less suspicious Sam is, the less he’ll try to cover his tracks, the more mistakes he’ll make, and the better our case.”

  Steve did like the sound of destroying Sam legally and financially and knew they were doing the industry a favor by taking him down. Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he could be patient, however. Max had been keeping him on a tight rein for years, so now that he’d been given a bit of slack—of hope—he was chomping at the bit to run with this.

  “Are you going after his fucking tabloid too?” Reagan asked, her face tightening into scowl. So she had been paying attention and not just gawking at the pretty castle. “You know how many people have been hurt by that stupid paper.”

  The tabloid had hurt Reagan more than anyone, though it had tried to cut Steve and the rest of the band down as well. As a veteran of having shit spewed about him, Steve hadn’t been bothered by the most recent stories at all. He didn’t care what strangers thought of him.

  “It will be dealt with,” Dare said, rubbing his sister-in-law’s lower back. “We’re working on a libel case, but we’re not sure it will fly. Tabloids are very good at leading the reader to believe their lies without actually stating them as facts. Unfortunately, that falls under freedom of speech laws.”

  “Freedom of nastiness, you mean?” Reagan’s scowl didn’t lessen.

  “You’re going after Bianca’s tabloid?” Steve asked. Not that he minded. He just never thought of the dumb tabloid as a huge issue. Not in the same league as Sam’s alleged embezzling, in any case.

  The helicopter touched down lightly, but Steve was far from ready for this important conversation to be over. It wasn’t often that the five of them got to be entirely alone together where they didn’t have to worry about being overheard. Steve jerked his head toward the pilot, but the man was too busy with his control panels to pay them any mind. He hoped those headphones the pilot wore had blocked their conversation from potentially spying ears.

  “It’s not her tabloid at all anymore, though she did manage to keep her job,” Dare said. “Tradespar West bought the American Inquirer out about six months ago, just days after Bianca filed for bankruptcy. Her bankruptcy case was then withdrawn. My lawyer is still digging for the connection between the events, but I have a feeling the specifics are known only by Sam and Bianca.”

  Bankruptcy? After all the money he’d handed her in the divorce? And the only connection he knew of between Sam and Bianca was Exodus End—specifically Steve himself. “So when was I going to be informed about all of this?” Steve asked.

  “We didn’t want to bother you,” Dare said with a grin. “You’ve been happy for the past few days. I was enjoying the new Steve, who isn’t pissed off all the time.”

  Steve hadn’t been pissed off all the time. Just most of the time. But he silently thanked Dare for giving him a few days to be ignorantly, blissfully happy.

  The loud chop of the helicopter blades began to wind down, so they didn’t have to talk quite as loud.

  “Dare gets a report from his
team every Friday,” Max said. “It’s not like we’ve been sitting on this information for long.”

  “Long enough for him to tell you,” Steve pointed out.

  “Yeah, well, I pester him.”

  Dare chuckled. “He does.”

  The door opened. Two members of Exodus End’s security team helped them disembark and rushed them toward the building. Steve instinctually ducked as he passed beneath the slowly turning helicopter blades and followed his group toward the castle. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but the place was decorated in fine elegance. He felt like he should be wearing a tuxedo and congratulating a bride and groom. The party of congregated guests applauded as the band entered a dining hall. Fine china, crystal glassware, silver utensils, and impeccable white linens decorated round tables. Flowers perfumed the air, and tapered candles offered an atmospheric glow to their surroundings. Steve and each of his bandmates were seated at separate tables with five eager strangers, so there was no way to continue discussing their future. Getting rid of Sam was top priority, but he wondered if they all envisioned the same goals once they were free to do what they pleased. Steve tried smiling and being friendly with the ultra-VIPs, but his thoughts kept returning to the situation with Sam.

  When Baroquen entered the room about a half hour later, Roux was separated from her bandmates and seated at her very own table of strangers too. He knew she had her bullet clenched tightly in her fist as her troubled gaze met his across the room. If it weren’t for Sam and his ridiculous events, the two of them could be enjoying some alone time in his hotel room right now.

  God, he hated Sam. And soon he’d be rid of him for good.

  *~*~*

  By the time Steve and Roux crawled into bed after their VIP dinner, it was almost dawn. Their meal had consisted of ten courses, one for each table. Luckily, they’d been served tapas-style fare with a minimum of twenty minutes per table, so his stomach hadn’t exploded from overindulgence, but he was uncomfortably full. For each course, the rock stars had switched tables so that every small group of ultra-VIPs got to interact with each of them. Once he’d let his anger toward Sam go—a little—he’d enjoyed interacting with the wealthiest of their fans. They were good people. He felt an instant connection with rock music fans no matter where in the world he happened to be. At least here in the UK, they spoke mostly the same language.

  Unable to consider doing anything remotely energetic after such a long night, he spooned against Roux’s back and let weariness pull him toward sleep. Today was a travel day, so at least Butch wouldn’t be banging on the door in two hours to get him into the gym, but the band’s taskmaster would be there in four, demanding that he get his ass on the plane so they could make their way to London for tomorrow night’s show.

  “Have you ever been too tired to sleep?” Roux murmured.

  Apparently not, because the next thing he knew, Zach was standing over his bed, shaking him awake. Fuck. He’d forgotten he’d given Zach a key. What kind of ass used it to barge into a man’s room and wake him up at—Steve glanced at the clock—noon. Noon!

  “Babe?” He shook Roux gently, but she mumbled something that sounded a lot like fuck off before pulling the covers over her head.

  “Why didn’t anyone wake me?” Steve asked, shifting his feet over the edge of the bed, putting his elbows on his thighs, and leaning forward to rub his face with both hands. It was times like these that he wished he hadn’t given up cocaine. When running on a few hours of sleep, it sure beat coffee. “Weren’t we supposed to be in the air at eleven?”

  “The jet is making two flights today. It should be back soon to pick up the rest of us. Max said to let you sleep.”

  Steve snorted. “Since when does Max have my best interests at heart?”

  “He’s in a really good mood,” Zach said, nibbling on a fingertip. “It’s almost frightening.”

  “I figured Max would take the fact that I was right about Sam and he was wrong less graciously than he has.”

  Roux sat up. “Right about Sam how?”

  Steve really should tell her their plans. He trusted her not tell anyone, but what if she was brought to trial, and had to testify under oath? If something like that led to Sam getting off on a technicality due to some contract provision, he’d never forgive himself.

  “He’s a douche,” Steve said.

  “We all get to ride on the jet today.” Zach beamed at Roux. “Even you and me.”

  She didn’t look overly thrilled by the news. “I think I’ve been in the air more over the past three days than I’ve been on the ground,” she said, wrapping the sheet around her as she climbed to her feet and stumbled toward the bathroom.

  Steve turned to Zach. “Do you realize what glorious sight I missed just now because you’re here?”

  Zach shrugged. “Eh, you’ve seen her naked before. Guess who texted me this morning?”

  Steve cringed. “Please don’t say Enrique.”

  “Enrique!”

  “What did he want?”

  “He says he misses me and knows a place where we can be alone together for a couple of days.”

  “Alone so that no one will know he’s seeing you.” Steve filled in a blank.

  “I don’t care if anyone knows,” Zach said.

  “Yes, you do.”

  Zach sighed and flopped down on the bed beside Steve. “I haven’t texted him back with an answer yet,” he said. “But I want to.”

  So there was hope. Zach just needed some support, and he’d be able to make the right decision, which Steve sincerely believed was telling Enrique to fuck off. Zach deserved a hell of a lot more consideration than that prick had ever shown him.

  “Hey, Roux?” Steve called.

  “Can’t a woman pee in peace?”

  Zach grinned. “Someone is cranky this morning.”

  “She prefers to be awoken slowly and gently, with kisses on her lips and then deeper kisses on her other lips.” He wondered if they’d have time to reenact her preferred awakening before they had to leave.

  Zach crinkled his nose. “Eww.”

  “Mmm, pussy. I go at it all morning like . . .” He showed off some of his more impressive tongue skills just to make Zach gag. Steve then smashed Zach flat with one arm while making all sorts of juicy sounds with his mouth next to Zach’s ear. “You like that don’t you, sweet pussy?”

  “Oh God, please make it stop.” Zach squirmed wildly, trying to escape Steve’s crude torture.

  Roux cleared her throat. “What exactly is going on out here?”

  “He’s showing me how he eats you out,” Zach said.

  Her horrified expression made both Steve and Zach burst out laughing.

  She shook her head. “And you two wonder why people get the wrong idea about your relationship.”

  “Nah,” Steve said. “We get it. We just don’t care.”

  “If you’re worried, don’t be,” Zach said. “He loves pussy almost as much as it grosses me out.”

  “Well, pardon my genitals,” Roux said. “You should probably leave now, because they’re about to be exposed.”

  Steve made a fist of victory. “Aw, yeah.”

  “Gross,” Zach said, scrambling off the bed. “I’ll see you all on the plane.”

  “Don’t text him,” Steve said, knowing Zach would know what he meant. Steve would have to keep a close eye on Zach if he wanted him to stay strong when faced with Enrique’s million-dollar smile—or dick—or whatever it was about the actor that Zach liked.

  “I won’t.”

  Steve didn’t believe him, but he didn’t stop him from leaving. Zach was a grown man, and Steve no longer felt like babysitting. Not when Roux was looking at him like she wanted him for breakfast.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as soon as Zach had left the room. “Craving anything special?”

  Her gaze flicked down to his crotch. “Sausage.”

  “I don’t think that’s a vegetarian option.”

  “I’ll ma
ke an exception.” She dropped her sheet and crawled up onto the bed with him.

  “Say, I always wondered: Do vegans swallow? Cum is definitely an animal product.”

  She paused with her mouth inches from his already hard cock and looked up at him. He hoped he hadn’t made her reconsider her morning meal choice by cracking jokes.

  “That’s the main reason I’m not vegan,” she said. “Milk and eggs are good and all, but cum? Can’t live without it.”

  “God, I love you.”

  She didn’t return his sentiment. Her mouth was already full.

  *~*~*

  “I want to see everything,” Roux said, craning her neck to locate landmarks from the jet’s window. “Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the Tower of London, all the museums.”

  Steve yawned exaggeratedly, but he was only teasing. He’d take her anywhere she’d like to go.

  “How far is Stonehenge from here?”

  “No idea.”

  She turned, the excitement in her eyes melting him.

  “You’ve never been there?”

  He shook his head, ready for any adventure as long as she was beside him.

  “We’re not doing that lame stuff today,” Raven said. “We’re going shopping!”

  Roux lifted an eyebrow. “With what money?”

  “The plastic kind.” Raven made a fist and pulled her elbow back toward her ribs. “Ka-ching!”

  “We’re in London. You can go shopping anywhere,” Roux pointed out. “You don’t even have to put on pants or leave the house to shop.”

  “It’s not the same,” Raven said.

  “We decided on shopping while you involved twats were with your men,” Azura said, nudging Iona, who was so involved in her discussion with Kyle that she merely swatted at Azura. “You were outvoted three to zero since we don’t accept absentee ballots. And your men aren’t invited.”

  Roux squeezed Steve’s hand as if she expected him to try to escape. As much as he wanted to spend the day with her, he knew it was important for her to have girls-only time with her sisters.

  “We’ll go shopping,” Lily said, “but only if our men can come.”