"You're loaded," Dion said, snatching the champagne bottle and taking a long pull. "You can't take it with you, Dad."
"Shit happens," Vince said. "Don't count on Anthem's money."
"Song royalties—"
"Split between five band members?"
"You got hosed," Rafe said. "You were the primary songwriter."
"We were a band, a team, even split. We decided that from the start," Vince said. He leveled a pointed look at Presley, Jett and me. "That's how a band stays in it for the long haul."
"This sudden poverty have anything to do with a wife or two?" Dion asked.
"Divorce is expensive," his father said through thin lips.
"So is a second wife," Dion muttered.
If Vince heard it, he chose to ignore it, focusing on Presley, whose melodramatic yawn captured everyone's attention.
"Oh excuse me," she said. "I am just exhausted."
"Touring's tough," Vince said. "The schedule's brutal."
"The schedule is fine," she insisted. "I work out. My body is primed for exertion."
Jett smirked. "Presley, was that a double entendre?"
Presley glared at her. "I meant it as a fact. I am exhausted because I am sleeping like shit. Those beds in that bus are awful."
"My bed is fine," I said.
"Of course it's fine for you," she said.
I crossed my arms. "Yes, for me. And for Jett. And for Devlin and he's not young."
"You just don't get it," she said. "You like camping. You don't mind sleeping in terrible places. I just—ugh." She shuddered with her entire body.
"You do have dark circles under your eyes," Vince noted.
"Here we go," Dion griped.
"What?" Vince asked.
"Nothing," he said, though he didn't bother hiding his pout.
Presley's lower lip trembled. "Dark circles?" she whispered.
"Oh come on, Pres," I said, looking to Jett for a little back up.
She just shrugged her shoulders. "It was bound to happen, Nik," she said. "I'm surprised it took this long."
"It's been two nights on the bus," I argued.
"Exactly," Presley sniffed. "And after two nights I already look haggard."
"No one said haggard," I corrected her.
"Not those exact words no," she said. "But still, he may well have. And that first night, we were up for hours."
I glared at Dion. "That situation will not repeat itself, right?"
"I cannot lose any more sleep. My body won't function. My voice will blow out. The tour will be over," she moaned. A single tear dropped down her left cheek, followed by another down her right. Presley was going to be an Oscar winning actress someday.
Vince wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. "I'll get you a room at the hotel."
"Why don't you get us all rooms, then?" Rafe asked.
"Because the label isn't paying for you guys to trash the Four Seasons," Vince said.
"But you'll let the girls stay there?" Dion follow up.
"No, I didn't say that," Vince said. "Presley needs a night off. She'll get the room."
"We'd take a Motel 6," Rafe grumbled.
"Speak for yourself," Dion countered, and then he looked at me. "Come on, Nikki, don't you think this is shit?"
I opened my mouth, but Vince responded. "Nikki and Jett are doing fine on the bus, and with everything going on we can't risk Presley losing her voice. Too much is riding on this right now. You girls understand, right?"
Jett and I looked at each other. "I guess," I said with a shrug.
"Thank you, Vince," Presley said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."
"Come on, let's get your stuff and get you settled before tonight's show" Vince said. "Enjoy your night off everyone." He helped a stumbling Presley —she was milking it for all it was worth —out the door.
"That's messed up," Rafe said, still staring at the door even though they had gone. "You mean to tell me you two are okay with this."
Jett exhaled. "What are you going to do? It's Presley."
"Yeah, we're used to it," I added.
"Doesn't make it right," said Dion. "I mean, it's our father and he treats us like...Well...Like we're you."
"You?" I asked.
"The step kids," Rafe clarified.
Jett looked at the time on her phone and jumped up. "I gotta go!"
"Go? Go where?" I asked.
She tossed her stuff in her backpack. "U-Dub."
"You what?" I asked.
"University of Washington. U-Dub."
I stared at her. "Why?"
"I heard they had a good English program. And if we sign with SubPop, will we move up here?"
"I don't know, maybe. Or not. We can be anywhere. I think," I stammered. "This is what Vince came here to advise us on, but he split."
"He's gotta tuck Princess Presley in," Dion said, rolling his eyes.
"Well, it's just a school tour, no strings," Jett said. "But I've got to go. Anyone know how to get to the University district?"
"Come on, I'll help get you there," Rafe said with a laugh. He picked up her backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "Damn, girl, what do you have in here?"
"Books," she said.
"I'm going to get you a Kindle for Christmas," he said.
"Won't use it. I like the way books smell."
"Do you like being a hunchback too? Because that's what you're gonna be you keep carrying this heavy thing around."
Still bickering, they walked out, slamming the door behind them. That left me and Dion alone in an awkward silence.
"You're really okay with Presley getting a room at the Four Seasons?" he asked.
"Presley's been the master of getting her way since she was born," I said. "If I got mad about it, I'd be pissed all the time."
"Vince pulls this sort of shit all the time too."
"What? Going to the Four Seasons?"
His face clouded over. "Treating someone else's kid better than his own."
"Trust me, Presley can talk a nun out of her habit," I said. "She's a master manipulator."
"So's he," Dion said. "Take Rafe, for instance. When we were growing up, I hated the little shit. Because Vince dotted on him. And Rafe had a dad!"
"His dad was a hot mess, though," I pointed out. Rafe's father was Anthem's bass player and a raging alcoholic. He went on a bender and suffocated in his own vomit, in true rock and roll style.
"And when he died, what did Vince do? Adopted Rafe! And you know? Kyle took that shit hard, man. He was smaller than Rafe, so Rafe was always beating up on him. And then I'd have to kick Rafe's ass. And he'd go crying to Vince. And I'd get called out for defending my little brother."
"Most kids are shit, Dion," I said.
"I hold no grudge with Rafe. He was being a kid. I get that he had it tough with his old man. And he's my brother now, for sure," he said, pulling a beer out of the mini-fridge and cracking it open. "But until Vince legally adopted him, he treated that boy way better than me and Kyle."
"What happened after he adopted him?" I asked, leaning against the door.
"He stopped favoring him," he said. "Now he treats him like he treats me. Like shit."
I took a deep breath. "From where I'm standing, Vince seems to be taking care of his own." I steeled myself for Dion's reaction.
Dion glared at me. "What's the hell do you know about it?"
"Come on! Bands don't just get signed with a major label after, like, five minutes of being formed."
"Is that really how you think it happened?" Dion asked, pitching his voice louder.
A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "Think it happened? That's exactly how it happened."
"You missed the hours and hours of band practice, of songwriting, of my father critiquing our performances. For hours. This was not garage band fun, like you had with your sisters. This was always serious, from the start. There was a fooling around."
"Dion, Rouge Nation was signed by Grimm after
one show at the Whiskey. One show! Satan's Sisters had four shows there, and they stuck us on the bill at 6pm so no showed up. Plus, we've played at least a hundred shitty clubs from Hollywood to Burbank to Van Nuys. Hell, we even played a tattoo convention at Long Beach."
"What's your point?" he growled.
"Maybe you need to start thinking about what Vince has done for you, rather than what he hasn't."
He wiped at the beads of condensation that formed on his beer can. "What do you think about what Vince has done for you?"
"He didn't put me on this tour. This was all Grimm's idea."
"OK, let's give this one to Grimm," he said. "Now, what has Vince done for you?"
I bit my lower lip. "He got my mom off the groupie grind and gave us a home. And for that I am grateful."
"Don't let your gratefulness cloud your judgement," he said.
"I mean, as a stepfather, he hasn't been too bad. He's left us alone for the most part. Fed us, clothed us, sent us to private school. Didn't get too shitty about pulling Ds."
"When did you ever pull Ds?"
"Not me. Presley," I said.
A small smile flickered across his face before disappearing. "Did you notice how he came rushing up here as soon as labels started sniffing around? Watch your back with him, Nik."
I sighed. "What could he possibly do to us?"
"Steer you towards a shit deal with Grimm," he said. "You're too talented for that. Satan's Sisters has a shot, Nik. I don't want Vince to blow it."
My jaw dropped. Did Dion just compliment us?
"Wow, Dion, thanks but I think I know..."
Dion raked his fingers through his hair. "You don't know, Nik. You have no idea. Grimm's not happy with Vince because of our deal."
"How can he be unhappy? He's the one that signed that contract," I protested.
Dion's laugh was bitter. "See, Nik, you don't know. The lawyers negotiate, they sign. Vince had A&R by the balls. Grimm wants to make money, and this deal...The label takes the risk, not the band. Usually it's the other way around."
"Sounds like your dad's looking after you after all."
"Nothing is as it seems, Nik. Trust me," he said, exhaustion bleeding into his voice. "Want a beer?"
"Sure," I said, happy to leave this conversation behind.
He opened the mini-fridge and tossed me a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. When I opened the can, the cheap beer sprayed all over me.
"Dammit," I swore. I smeared beer across my chest as I wiped at it with my bare hands. "Is there a paper towel or something around here?"
He licked his lips. "I can take care of it."
"I just need a napkin or something," I said, still swiping the booze along my skin.
Distracted by mess, I didn't notice that Dion was stalking towards me until he took the beer from my hand. He dipped his head and his warm tongue flicked at my beer soaked chest.
"Dion," I said as his tongue traced the fleshy top of my breast that peaked out of my scoop neck t-shirt. "We can't keep doing this."
"Doing what?" he asked without stopping. He walked me into the door behind me and locked it with his free hand. Keeping me pinned there, that hand started to caress my body through my clothes.
"This," I sighed, my resolve weakening as his hand slid down my ass and between my legs, the firm press of his hand against my sex sent tingles through my body.
"No one needs to know," he said, feathering small nips along the side of my neck.
I pressed my hands against his chest, a lame attempt to push him away. But instead of backing off, Dion pressed his mouth on mind, and pried my lips open with his tongue. His mouth worked against mine while his tongue probed my mouth. I pushed against his chest again, without even less force behind it. Because I didn't want him to stop. I wanted this.
Giving in, I pulled my t-shirt over my head, leaving me in a bra and jeans. I felt Dion's excitement grow through his pants as he pressed against my leg. He dropped the beer can, the booze puddling out over the dirty concrete floor.
With both hands free, he unclasped my bra, throwing the undergarment behind him. He groaned the sight of my breasts before taking them with his mouth, tongue sliding over their soft curves before finding my nipple.
The more Dion touched me, the more my body lit up. As he worked on my breasts, I kicked off my sneakers and unbuttoned my jeans and shimmed out of them, and my underwear was next.
He released me and took a step back. His eyes worked over my naked body, the firm rod straining against his pants revealed his excitement. He unzipped his jeans and his cock popped out and pointed straight at me.
His eyes still stalking me, I ran a hand over my breasts. I rolled my nipple between my thumb and index finger, sighing as pleasure built in my body. Dion took hold of his stiff member, the movement of his firm hands pulling at the skin, pressing it skyward.
"Take your hand and move it to your cunt," he ordered, his voice horse. My knees went weak at his demand, the space between my legs dampening.
Obedient, I stepped and opened my legs wider. My other hand slipped down my taught stomach and strayed to my neatly trimmed bush. I dipped my finger into my warm slit, spreading the silky fluid along my swollen outer lips. I spread my wetness up to my nub, which was peeking out from under its hood. I gasped in pleasure as I pressed my finger against it and then moved in tight circles.
"What do you want me to do now?" I asked, breathless.
"You're perfect," Dion said, his eyes on me. He pumped his cock harder.
I slid my finger along the lips, edging them inside me and then pulling it back to my clit with a moan. Dion grabbed my wrist before I could repeat it.
He dropped to his knees in front of me, hand squeezing his cock. A bead of pre-cum was at the tip and he massaged it up and down his shaft. He flicked his tongue in and out, teasing my clit while he gripped my ass with his other hand. The teasing was driving me crazy and I pressed his head into my crotch. He responded with a firm tongue pressing into and circling my nub. I yelped when he plunged a finger into my pussy from behind.
He stretched open my pussy with a second finger, filling me, and his groan of pleasure sent vibrations through my clit.
"Oh my god, Dion," I cried when he drove his fingers into me, angling them into my G spot. I twisted my fingers into his hair, hanging on for dear life, and pressed into him.
Intense pleasure overtook me and just as my pelvis began to buck, Dion pulled his fingers out, leaving me empty. Then he took his mouth away, and I whimpered.
He got to his feet and fondled my breasts. "I want you to come while I'm inside you."
"But, Dion," I panted. The idea of feeling his generous cock inside me turned me on, but I couldn't escape the voice in my head that told me that this was wrong. We were wrong. "Dion, what are we doing?"
"Do you really need me to explain this to you?" he teased, lifting me off my feet and into his arms. He carried me to the couch and settled me down against the moldy cushions.
"No, it's just—" I hedged.
"Give me one good reason why we can't," he said. "We're both adults."
"But we're—" I started.
He pulled his shirt off and then kicked his jeans off the rest of the way. He stepped out of them and I stared at the bronze god that stood before me. My trepidation lost out to my baser instincts. I reached for his cock and ran my tongue along the tip.
"We're what, Nik?" he asked, twisting my hair through his fingers while I took more of him in my mouth. "Is it the band?"
I shook my head no, wrapping my mouth around his throbbing penis.
"Is it because of the tour?" he asked, his breath quickening. I shook my head again, and he moaned as I took more of him into my mouth. "Then why shouldn't we."
I removed my mouth. "You know why."
"Oh, Nik, please don't make me beg," he said, smoothing my hair. "There are a hundred reasons why we shouldn't. I'm only interested in the one reason that says we should."
"What reason is th
at?" I asked, feathering light kisses up and down his shaft.
"That I can't think straight when you're around," he said. "And that when you're not around, you're still in my head. That just once I want to feel your legs wrapped around me, to feel me inside you. No regrets."
I bit my lip, resting my cheek on his thigh. "So we just have to get this out of our systems?"
"Come on, Nik. We can't keep lying to ourselves."
I closed my eyes. Just once. Just this once. I wanted keep up the lie because I didn't think I'd be able to get him out of my system. Ever.
"Oh god," Dion cried when I wrapped my mouth around his cock again, taking as much as I could. There was no way I'd be able to take all of him, so I massaged the base of his cock with my hand while my mouth worked the rest.
His breath quickened and he pulled at hair, stopping my mouth from moving down the shaft again.
"I don't want to come yet," he said, and I reluctantly released him from my mouth.
He dropped to the seat next to me and fumbled in his jeans, pulling out a condom. He straddled me onto his lap. He gripped the back of my neck and pulled my mouth to his and kissed me long and deep, his tongue exploring my mouth. I could taste my musk on his lips, and I wiggled against his leg, rubbing my juices against him.
He ripped the condom open, and I watched him stretch the latex along his rigid penis, my pussy soaked.
"God I want to fuck you," he whispered, lifting me by my hips.
My pussy brushed against this cock and he pushed the tip in, taking care to go slowly as he stretched my hole with his wide shaft. For a moment, I wondered if I would be able to all of take him. But then, with a gasp, I slipped down his length. His cock filled me, the tip pressed against the inner wall of my vagina, hitting the spongy g-spot just right.
"Oh, Dion," I moaned as I rocked my hips against his. "What are we doing?"
"It's so wrong," he agreed, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He pushed his hips up to meet mine, plunging deeper into me.
"We can't," I breathed.
"God, Nik, you are so wet for me," he moaned around a mouthful of my breast. "Does being naughty makes you wet?"
"Yes," I whispered, digging my nails into his back as pressed his thumb against my clit. "Oh God. Yes."
The Forbidden Beat (A Stepbrother Romance) Page 7