“I’m not sure. I didn’t ask her yet. Lindsey came back to the room and found her, so she’s pissed at me. I had to get out of there before I slapped the shit out of her. I told her to stay put. I don’t need any reporters finding out about this until I figure out what’s going on.”
“Right,” he agreed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Drink with me,” I said and waved the bartender over to order some shots of tequila. The beer wasn’t giving me the desired effect quickly enough.
“I can do that,” he replied.
After a few shots, we spotted a group of women sitting in the corner of the bar watching us. I stuck out my hand and wiggled a finger for them to come over. I didn’t have to ask them twice. The ladies came over, and we did a few rounds of shots.
By now I was pretty hammered and ready to get laid. It worked out that there were two girls for each of us. They also happened to be sisters. Fuck, it was my lucky day; I loved to fuck sisters at the same time.
“How about we take this party more private?” I suggested with an arch of an eyebrow. “We can go back to Diesel’s room.” There was no way I was going to chance that Destiny was still in mine.
I looked over at him and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, let’s go.”
We settled up the tab and left the bar, each of us with a lady on each arm. I rested my hands on their asses as we walked out of the bar. This was exactly what the doctor ordered for the end of my shitty day.
We were headed to the elevator when we met Lindsey head-on. She was looking down at her phone and didn’t notice us at first. Diesel picked up one of the two girls with him and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed, causing Lindsey to look up. She shook her head and turned in my direction. Fuck.
She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at the two women I was with before looking back at me. She didn’t say a word, but her face said it all. The look of utter disgust was enough to make me drop my arms from the shoulders of the women. “Lindsey,” I said, walking towards her.
“Just stop,” she said, putting up a hand. “There’s no need to explain. It’s all good.”
She brushed past me and I stood there speechless. I wanted to go after her and try to get her to understand this thing with Destiny was a mess and I was Cane Stephens—sleeping with women was what I did. She was right, though; I didn’t really owe her any explanation. We had fucked a few times and that was it. She wasn’t my girlfriend and I could do whatever the hell I wanted. I wasn’t even sure what to say to her until I knew what was going on with Destiny.
“What are you waiting for?” Diesel turned around and asked, the woman still hanging over his shoulder.
I ran my hands through my shaggy hair. “I gotta go take care of this mess. You guys have fun without me.” I waved my hands, urging the women to join the others and Diesel. He was in for one hell of a treat—four women at once. I was going to have to check on him later and make sure they didn’t kill him.
“Woo hoo! Thanks man!” He gathered his harem and headed to the elevators. I could hear them laughing and talking all the way down the hall. I was a fucking fool for letting them get away, but the sooner I could get rid of Destiny, the sooner I could relax and get back to what I did best—sing and fuck women.
I sent off a quick text to our manager, telling him to call me. I had a feeling I was going to need his help. He always knew what to do and how to handle situations like this. He had saved my ass on more than one occasion.
When I was sure the hallway was clear of Diesel and company, I went to the elevators and back up to my room. I took deep breaths, trying to sober up and calm down. Losing it with Destiny wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
I got to my door and sighed before unlocking the door. I could hear the TV on, and she was talking to someone. I opened the door and went inside. She was on the phone and when she saw me, she smiled.
“I have to go,” she said to whoever was on the phone and hung up before the other person had a chance to say anything. “I was wondering where you were,” she said sweetly, coming up to me and putting her arms around my waist. This was going to be harder than I expected.
I took her arms and removed them from me. “I was trying to make sense of this,” I said and sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t remember getting married and neither does anyone else I know.”
She crossed her arms across her chest and pouted. “Well, I remember.”
“Do you have the piece of paper to prove it?” I asked, leaning back on the bed with my hands.
A look of panic flashed across her heavily made-up face. “Not with me,” she stammered.
I got up off the bed and found her bag. I took it over to her and placed it at her feet. “Well, how about this, sweetheart. You get that piece of paper and bring it to me. Once I see that, then we can talk. For now, it’s just your word against mine.”
She opened her mouth and started babbling. I wasn’t going to listen to this bullshit. Not until she showed me we were married on paper.
“Stop talking. Where are you from?” I asked.
“Miami,” she muttered.
“Is that where the marriage certificate is?” I asked.
She nodded, but she didn’t look too confident. I was growing more and more suspicious of this woman.
“Tell you what. I’ll have my manager get you a flight to Miami. When you have that certificate, you call him back and he’ll get you another flight to wherever we are so you can show me. Then we can figure this out.”
“Fine,” she muttered, but she didn’t look happy. She was an idiot if she thought I was just going to believe she was my wife. I get women accusing me of ridiculous things often, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to believe her without some kind of proof.
My phone rang and, when I pulled it out of my pocket, I saw it was my manager. I answered right away. “Hey Jack, I need you to do something for me.”
I was going to let her be his problem for a while.
Chapter Three
Lindsey
I didn’t leave my room for twenty-four hours after seeing Cane in the hallway with those two women. The whole thing made me want to puke. He had fucked me and then his wife showed up, and now he was going off with two women. What a fucking man-whore.
I didn’t have anywhere to be for a couple of days and didn’t have any assignments due for the magazine for a while, so I stayed in bed watching Real Housewives marathons and ordering room service. I was drinking champagne by the bucketful to dull my senses and managed to keep a pretty good buzz going consistently.
I couldn’t figure out why Cane being married bothered me so much, and that only pissed me off more. I knew full well about his reputation with the ladies, but to keep someone so major from me really upset me. He had played me for a fool and treated me no differently than any other whore he slept with.
After no human contact for so long other than room service, I was feeling a little bit stir crazy. I didn’t want to run into Cane or anyone else from his band, so I had the idea to send Drew a text, asking him to stop over. The tour manager seemed to have a soft spot for me, so maybe he would be willing to come over and entertain me for a while.
It took me awhile to find my phone. Cane hadn’t stopped calling or texting me, so I had turned it off and thrown it deep into my bag. I turned it on, and there were ten voicemails and texts from him. I deleted them all without listening or looking. My desire not to talk to him was so great I almost thought about going home. I wasn’t going to let a man wreck the opportunity of my career, though.
I also had a few messages from my best friend Rebecca back home. I hadn’t even filled her in on the mess that had happened since arriving in Vegas. She was going to freak out and insist on coming out here. I made a mental note to call her later. I was in no mood to rehash it all right now.
After successfully ignoring all of my messages, I sent Drew a text asking him if he was busy. He quickly replied that he wasn’t, so I asked him to come to my
room to hang out. It was probably not my best idea, but in my defense, I was under the influence of champagne and wasn’t thinking straight. I was also lonely and wanted something to distract me from the incidents with Shaun and Cane’s wife.
While I was waiting for Drew to arrive, I managed to pull on a pair of jeans and a plain gray t-shirt. In my search for something to wear, I found my Hookers and Hand Grenades t-shirt. I was so going to burn that fucker when I got home. I shoved it to the bottom of the suitcase so I wouldn’t have to look at it again for a while.
I checked my messy bun in the mirror and managed to slap on a little powder and blush before there was a knock on the door. Drew didn’t waste any time getting here, that’s for sure.
I walked in my bare feet and opened the door. There he stood with a goofy smile on his face and a twelve-pack of beer. He was wearing khaki jeans and a golf shirt. Sometimes he dressed so preppy I found it hard to believe he was the manager for a rock tour. His short sandy blond hair was still wet from a shower and combed over to the side. He didn’t have his glasses on and, for the first time, I noticed how brown his eyes are. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, just not the type I’m usually attracted to.
I had gotten over the way he would look at me when I first joined the tour. I originally thought he was totally skeezy, but he had started to grow on me. He was great when he was there for me when I had to deal with Shaun, too.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” I said, as I reached for the beer and took it from him. My buzz was starting to wear off, wrecking my plans to be buzzed the whole time I was in Vegas.
“Come on in,” I said and put the beer in the mini-fridge, taking a beer for each of us.
“Thanks,” he said when I handed him the beer. He popped the top and took a drink. “How are you?”
Although he didn’t come right out and say it, I knew he was referring to Shaun attacking me when we first got to Vegas. He was with me when I gave the police a statement, but I hadn’t talked to him since then.
“I’m okay,” I shrugged. For the most part, I was. Sometimes when I was asleep I had nightmares about Shaun and would wake up in a cold sweat, but I would watch a little TV and soon drift back to sleep. I’m not sure if I had really processed what had happened to me or what had almost happened to me before Cane came to my rescue.
“Did you know Cane was married?” I blurted out before taking a drink of my beer.
“What? No way!” He exclaimed, setting his beer on the dresser in front of him and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
“Yep. I met the lucky Mrs. Stephens the other day. Let me tell you, she’s a piece of work.” I rolled my eyes and downed my beer.
“Interesting.” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I wonder when that happened. How long have they been married?”
“I didn’t ask and he didn’t tell me. He tried to explain, but I don’t care. I knew he slept around, but I had no idea he was a cheater too.” I shrugged and reached for another beer. “I don’t really want to talk about him anymore.” I sat down next to Drew on the bed and saw him swallow visibly.
“What do you want to do? Do you want to go out somewhere? We could probably catch a show.” He was nervous and rambling.
“No, I still want to stay locked away from the real world for a bit.” I shook my head. “Let’s stay in and get drunk.” I grinned and got on my knees next to him.
“Okay, how about we order some real alcohol from room service then? It will take too long with beer.” He slid over to the phone and reached for the handle to call room service.
“I have some champagne too. I’ve been going through a bottle of that every couple of hours. Do you want that or something more?” I was excited to have someone to drink with. I was afraid I might turn into an alcoholic if I continued to wallow alone in my room.
“Champagne gives me a headache. I’ll get you some, and then how about some tequila? We can have them bring all the stuff to do the shots.” He grinned at me.
“Oh boy, bringing out the hard stuff, huh? If we are going to do tequila shots, then I should probably quit drinking champagne or I’ll be puking in the bathroom soon.” I bounced over to him on the bed, catching a whiff of his soap. He smelled so clean—unlike Cane, who smelled like booze and cigarette smoke. It was a nice change.
“Can’t handle it?” he teased me.
“Oh, that’s it,” I laughed. “Bring it.”
He picked up the phone and called room service. He ordered a big bottle of the hotel’s best tequila and I shook my head. That’s what I get for asking him to come drink with me.
My phone beeped with a new text. Not thinking, I dug it out of my bag to check it. I frowned when I saw it was Cane again, asking if we could talk. When was he going to get the hint? I unlocked my phone and furiously typed back a response.
I’m busy with Drew. Leave me alone.
I hit send and turned off my phone. That text was vague enough to get him thinking, I’m sure. I didn’t care what he thought. I tossed my phone back into my purse and turned back to Drew as he hung up the hotel phone.
“All set?” I asked, planting a smile onto my face.
“Yep.” He glanced at my bag. “Was that Cane?”
“No, it was my best friend back in L.A.,” I lied.
“Oh, you seemed upset by whoever it was, so that’s why I asked.”
“She was asking me a lot of questions about you.” Given the tone of my voice, I couldn’t even believe myself. It didn’t matter; I was going to continue my little game.
“What kind of questions?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“She wanted to know if you are cute.” I was going to really play this up. I sat really close next to him on the bed.
“What did you tell her?” he asked, the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.
I put a finger to my chin. “Well, I told her you aren’t my type, but you are still pretty cute.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Not enough tattoos for you?”
“Maybe.”
Silence filled the room, and the sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. My gaze landed on his lips and I wanted to kiss him. It was probably a terrible idea to get involved with Drew; I wasn’t kidding when I said he wasn’t my type. He had a certain charm and was cute in a nerdy sort of way. He would be a great distraction from all the other fucked-up things going on in my life right now. It wasn’t really fair to him, but the alcohol had withered my inhibitions.
I wanted him to take charge and make the first move, but I wasn’t sure that was going to happen. I got tired of waiting, so I leaned in and grabbed his head between my hands before kissing his lips. He didn’t react at first but, when I didn’t stop, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. He tasted like beer and toothpaste, and I climbed into his lap, straddling him on the bed.
The kiss ended when room service knocked on the door with our booze. I was breathless when I climbed off of his lap so he could open the door. My sex was throbbing with need from his kiss. He was a great kisser.
He got up off the bed without a word and answered the door. There were mumbled voices in the background, as I thought about what was probably about to happen. I shouldn’t lead on Drew, but it felt so good to be with someone who was honest with me and genuinely liked me.
He appeared with the cart of alcohol and poured us each a shot of tequila. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, before turning to hand me my shot glass.
I nodded. “Do you?”
“Fuck, Lindsey, I’ve wanted to kiss you like that since the first day you showed up.”
“I can’t promise you more than tonight,” I admitted, holding my shot glass of tequila in front of me.
“I’ll take that,” he said quietly. “One night with you is better than none.” He poured some salt on the side of my hand before doing the same to his.
When he was ready, I raised my shot glass. “To tonight.”
&
nbsp; He raised his glass and clinked it against mine. We licked our salt and downed our shots before sucking on the lemon from the cart. He took my glass from me and set it on the cart.
I turned around and climbed up onto the bed slowly, so he got a nice view of my jeans-clad ass. I barely had a chance to turn around before he was on the bed next to me, grabbing me for a kiss.
As Drew tore my clothes from me, there was a brief second when I changed my mind. It wasn’t fair for me to use him like this when he felt like he did about me.
I put my hands on his shoulders to stop him when his lips encircled a nipple and sucked gently. I moaned and my head fell back. Fuck it. I was going to live in the moment.
I’d worry about regrets in the morning.
Chapter Four
Cane
Instead of being sandwiched between two gorgeous women, I ended up getting drunk and high alone in my room last night. It wasn’t one of my finer moments, for sure. I woke up on the bathroom floor with a headache the size of Texas. I must have passed out there some time during the night. When was I ever going to learn?
I eventually made it to the bed, but it was almost three in the afternoon before I finally was able to drag my ass into the shower. I had room service bring me a big greasy breakfast, even though it was almost dinnertime, and that helped; but it still felt like tiny armies of men were marching around in my head.
I suddenly hated my life—my personal one, at least. Professionally, Hookers and Hand Grenades was doing better than ever. The tour was selling out in hours, and our album was still topping the charts. Women were throwing their panties at me and men wanted to be me. I had a huge house in L.A. and a fleet of cars. I couldn’t ask for anything more.
The rest of my life was shit. I had never thought much about my personal life before, but now, in the span of a week, everything was all fucked up I always had a warm and willing body to sleep with at night, sometimes more than one. That was all that mattered to me. Now a certain redheaded journalist consumed my every thought.
All I Need (Vol.2) Page 2