Summer Nights flashed on the screen in neon-green letters.
The applause intensified. Sonja raised her eyebrows at Levi. “Really?”
He dropped a wink at her. “Really.”
She rolled her eyes. “You have a twisted sense of humour.”
Throwing Corbin a grin, he shuffled sideways on the seat and out of the booth. “C’mon. Get your arse up on stage with me.”
Corbin chuckled. “This I can’t wait to see.”
Sonja snorted. “‘Summer Nights’ is hardly rock and roll, Stan.”
He shook his head, his body tingling. “No, it isn’t. No, it isn’t.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the booth. “Let’s go.”
He dragged her up to the stage, unable to keep his smile under control. She complained the whole way, a lump of resistant deliciousness. “‘Highway to Hell’,” she grumbled. “‘Sex on Fire’. ‘Born in the USA’. ‘Working Class Man’.” She continued to rattle off an impressive list of rock anthems as he pulled her to the stage.
Stopping at base of the stairs, he turned, hooked his fingertips between her belly and miniskirt waistband and yanked her to his body. “Shut up, Sonny. There’s a song to be sung.”
He kissed her before she could react, a quick crushing of her lips with his and then pivoted on his heel and jogged up the three stairs to the stage.
Scooping up the mics waiting on a stool beside the screen, he turned to the audience, most of whom—he noticed—weren’t remotely interested in who was about to start singing and nodded at the MC.
The opening note of ‘Summer Nights’ emanated from the bar’s speakers just as Sonja stepped onto the stage. He tossed her mic to her, grinned, raised his mic to his mouth and sang the first line. “Summer lovin’…”
Sonja glared at him, bringing the microphone in her hand up to her lips. She sang the next line, even as a twinkle began to dance in her eyes.
He wriggled his hips at her, continuing to sing the song.
Five minutes into the song, Mizuku’s customers were cheering, clapping and singing along with them, flash after flash from cameras and smartphones capturing Levi and Sonja’s performance.
Levi had never felt so charged, so happy and relaxed. Sonja played the part of Sandy with happy glee, the innocent lines of her part of the duet delightfully wicked given the short length of her micro-mini skirt, the thigh-high height of her black suede boots and the snugness of her AC/DC tank top. She flirted with him with every note she sang, her blue eyes devilish, her joy at singing evident in the way she moved to the music, the way she caressed his chest with her fingertips.
By the time the song reached its crescendo, by the time Levi squeezed his eyes tight and threw back his head, her fingers were threaded through his and his heart was thumping fast in his chest.
“Those summer…” he sang.
“Nights,” Sonja sang with him, her voice in perfect harmony with his.
The crowd erupted in wild applause, some singing the final coda of the song along with the backing track, some stamping their feet.
With a grin, Levi bowed deep at the waist. Sonja laughed beside him, and he hauled her into a rough embrace, flung her back in a dramatic dip and kissed her.
Ecstatic cheering filled the room.
He straightened with just as much flair, laughing into Sonja’s grinning mouth. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” he called, dragging her off the stage. “Thank you.”
It took them much longer to return to their booth than it had to journey from it. They were stopped often, some of the other Mizuku diners asking for autographs and photos, others complimenting them on their singing, some asking Levi if the rumours were true that Nick Blackthorne was out of retirement and getting the band back together.
For the first time in his life as a rock star, Levi didn’t find the attention daunting or unnerving. He was sure it had something to do with Sonja.
Somehow she knew when he was getting antsy, when he wanted to move on. Somehow she knew how to end the social interaction with gentle but speedy ease. More than once, she stopped unwanted physical contact by putting herself between Levi and the excited person trying to hug, touch or maul him. More than once, she steered the questions away from Levi, mentioning Corbin with such subtle brilliance the person didn’t seem to notice the topic was longer Levi but movies.
When the reporter for the travel show planted herself in their path and asked for an exclusive, Sonja answered with a quick, “The chips and sake are fantastic,” as Levi stood behind her.
When the reporter ran a curious gaze over Sonja and asked who she was, Sonja laughed. “Oh, someone very important, I assure you.”
It was typical Sonja Stone—mirth-laced sarcasm.
If it weren’t for the fact at that very moment Levi caught a glance of Corbin at their booth, he would have introduced her. He wanted to world to know about her. But at the sight of Corbin shaking his head at a guy thrusting what looked like an iPhone at his face, all Levi wanted to do was get to his lover. Protect him.
Increasing his grip on Sonja’s hand, he gave the reporter a level gaze. “She’s the best editor of smut there is,” he said with a wink before continuing to their booth with Sonja in tow.
“The best editor of smut?” Sonja echoed, incredulous laughter in her voice.
He grinned at her. “True, isn’t it?”
Before she could answer, they arrived at their booth. He fixed the guy with the iPhone a pointed look, noticing on the screen a large graphic of an old-fashion microphone with an active recording bar at its base. “Personal time, mate. Do you mind taking off?”
The guy swung the phone toward Levi. “Don’t want to make a comment for the Sun Herald’s entertainment section, Mr. Levistan?”
Levi regarded the reporter without a word.
The guy snorted. “Figured as much.” He jabbed his phone at Sonja. “What about you?”
“The sake has some kick,” Sonja offered, her eyes twinkling.
Levi fell in love with her a little.
It was just like high school all over again. How many times had she diffused a tense situation when he was the centre of unwanted attention at lunch or recess with a sarcastic crack? How many times had she saved him from his father’s derision at the dinner table on weekends? How many times had her presence in his home on those Friday and Saturday evenings saved him from—
“So who’s the third wheel, Levistan?” a familiar male voice drawled from the shadows behind the man with the iPhone, a second before a blinding white flash bleached the immediate darkness.
Levi flinched.
Corbin lunged forward.
Sonja let out a stunned, “Fuck, who the hell—”
She didn’t finish the question. Another flash fired at the very second two massive men in Mizuku staff uniforms descended on the photographer and hauled him backward by the upper arms.
Someone at a table nearby captured the ruckus with a smartphone, the device’s inbuilt flash illuminating the situation for a brief moment.
Levi’s gut rolled.
Carl Holston.
The paparazzo bucked and thrashed against the Mizuku’s security team’s hold, spitting threats of lawsuits and retribution. No one seemed concerned. Probably because the guy was so notorious and reprehensible the word was most judges dismissed any case he brought before them out of sheer exasperation.
Levi watched him wave his arms about, still trying to take photos of Levi and Corbin even as he was dragged backwards from the bar.
“That was fun,” Sonja quipped at Levi’s side.
Corbin chuckled. “That was tame. Holston once tried to take a photo of me in the men’s room at the Sydney Opera House.”
Levi curled his lip. “He also turned up at Isabella’s funeral,” he murmured, tracking the pap’s less-than-dignified ejection from the bar.
“Mr. Levistan.” A man in an exquisitely cut suit appeared at the booth, shooing away the man with the iPhone with a dismissive ha
nd motion. “Mr. Smith. I’m Marco Lee. Please accept my apologies for the invasion of your privacy this evening.”
Corbin waved his hand, a smile on his face. “No apologies necessary, Marc. We both know what Holston’s like.” He threw Levi a look loaded with wry pain. “And how tenacious.”
Marco Lee slipped his hand inside his jacket and withdrew a business card. “Still,” he said, passing the small rectangle to Corbin, “I am sorry he disturbed you. Rest assured you will not be harassed again. Your dinner and drinks are courtesy of Mizuku this evening.” He shot Sonja, still standing at Levi’s right, a curious glance. “And yours as well, Ms…?”
“Stone,” Sonja offered with a playful smile.
Marco Lee studied her for a brief second, flicked a look at Corbin and then returned his focus to Sonja. “Ah, Ms. Stone. I have loved all your movies, especially the one with Woody Harrelson.”
And with that, he gave a quick bow at the waist. “Enjoy the rest of your evening at Mizuku.” He pivoted on his heel and disappeared into the surrounding shadows.
Corbin cocked an eyebrow at Sonja. “Ms. Stone.”
Sonja snorted, dropping onto her side of the booth and wriggling to the middle of the seat. “Y’know, I almost said Portman.” She grinned. “Just for shits and giggles. Being mistaken for Emma Stone, though? That’s a first.”
“You’re right.” Levi lowered himself onto the other bench seat and slid over, making room for Corbin. “Emma is much hotter than you.”
Sonja threw a coaster at him ninja-style. “Screw you, Stan.”
Levi plucked the coaster from the air and spun it back at her with a grin. “And far more a lady. Isn’t that right, Cor?”
Corbin shook his head with a laugh. “I’m not taking sides on this one, lover. But I will say, Emma’s never given me a…well, you know.”
Levi’s cock jerked in his jeans, all too eager to resume its earlier rigid state. The talk of Corbin being aroused by Sonja was affecting him again, big time. As did the hope Sonja would agree to their request, despite her earlier refusal.
Sonja smirked, blew on her nails and polished them on her right boob. “There you go, Stan. I’m so hot I can make gay men horny.”
“That you can, Ms. Stone,” Corbin agreed, his smile wide. “It’s a first for me.”
Cocking her head to the side, Sonja fixed him with a direct stare. “Which leads me to ask, why?”
Corbin raised his eyebrows. “Why do I find myself aroused by you?”
She nodded.
Mouth dry, Levi poured them all fresh sake. In his jeans, his dick throbbed again. In his chest, his heart bashed against his ribs. What was his partner going to say?
“Because you bring Levi to life,” Corbin stated, his voice clear and calm.
Sonja narrowed her eyes at the simple response. “And that’s it? It has nothing to do with my tight arse? My eyes?” She cupped her round breasts, somehow even more incredible—in Levi’s opinion—in the snug AC/DC tank she wore. “My boobs?”
Corbin chuckled. “Well, here’s the thing, until last night, boobs have never really been on my radar. But I have to admit, watching Levi squeeze yours in the Do Re Me…well, I’ve been finding myself curious ever since.”
“And my arse?”
“Now your ass is a thing of beauty.”
Levi realized he was leaning slightly over the bench, trying to get a peek at Sonja’s butt when Corbin laughed beside him. “See what I mean? You bring him to life. I’ve never seen Levi openly check out anyone’s ass before.”
Sonja slid Levi a steady glance, a smile playing with her lips. Her gaze connected with his, the molten desire of their teenage romance burning in the blue depths of her eyes.
A thick spasm claimed his cock and he shifted on the seat, trying to get comfortable.
“What about you?” she asked, returning her attention to Corbin. “Doesn’t he openly check you out?”
Levi turned to Corbin. “Fucking oath I do,” he murmured. And before Corbin or Sonja could say a word, he leant forward and kissed Corbin’s parted lips. Thoroughly. Passionately.
Aggressively.
“Okay, okay,” Sonja grumbled. “Get a room, you two.”
The words were in jest, but there was no mistaking the shallow breaths Sonja pulled as she uttered them.
Breaking the kiss with a sucking nip on Corbin’s bottom lip, he swung back to face her. “We have a room, Sonny. We have a whole apartment. Come back to it with us.”
Corbin’s swift inhalation stoked Levi’s mounting need. As did the way Sonja’s pupils dilated. The way she swiped her tongue over her bottom lip.
His cock pulsed with fresh blood. “Now, Sonja. Before I fucking burst.”
“I think,” she said, her voice a raspy whisper, “dinner first. I still haven’t decided if I even like you anymore. It’s been a long time, after all. And I don’t know Mr. Hollywood over here at all. I mean, what’s his favourite book? Album? Movie? These are important things one must consider before committing to a threesome, don’t you think, Stan?”
“1984. The Beatle’s White Album. And Citizen Kane,” Corbin said, his voice as raspy and strained as hers. “All clichés, I know, but there you go.”
Levi waited for Sonja’s response. If she said, “Okay, let’s go,” he didn’t think he’d survive. The need to taste her lips again, as Corbin sucked on her full, soft breasts was an urge so powerful he could barely think.
If she didn’t though, if she said no to heading back to their apartment at that very second…well, he didn’t know if he could survive that either. There was something utterly arousing about their three-way flirting in such a public arena, one in which a member of the media was already present and from which a member of the paparazzi had been already ejected.
Swallowing the thick tension in his throat, he regarded her with an unwavering gaze.
“Perhaps,” she finally said, licking her lips and darting her stare between him and Corbin, “we should eat first. Food. Something to lessen the kick of the sake.”
Levi’s breath left him in a fierce stream through his nose. He bunched his jaw. His gut clenched.
“Good idea,” Corbin agreed. It was only because Levi knew him so well that he could hear the note of impatient disappointment in his lover’s voice. “Food. Some more sake, another song or two from you both, perhaps even coffee and dessert somewhere else after.”
“Fuck that,” Levi growled.
Sonja rolled her eyes. “You so haven’t changed, Stan.”
Surprisingly, the accusation made him smile. “Neither have you, Sonny.”
She smirked at him, no doubt proud of his declaration.
“But you will,” he promised. “I’m going to make sure of it.”
Her eyes widened. Her lips parted.
And then they were joined at the table by their waitress with fresh sake and tempura, compliments of the house. Which was lucky for them all, given how easy it would have been for Levi to unzip his fly and wrap Corbin’s hand around his dick as he gazed at Sonja while she watched it all.
Chapter Eight
Of course, the first three submissions from the slush pile would be ménages.
Sonja slammed her laptop shut and drummed her nails on its lid, staring hard at the morning sky stretching on forever over her backyard.
She still couldn’t believe she’d said no. No to coffee and dessert. No to Corbin and Levi’s invitation back to their apartment.
No to Levi’s suggestion.
She still couldn’t believe she’d even considered it all in the first place.
Goddamn it, could she be more confused?
Corbin had accepted her refusal with good grace. Christ, he was yummy. All tall, blonde and deliciously American, with broad, broad shoulders and a smile so sexy it was almost orgasm inducing. If it wasn’t for the fact she knew he was gay, she’d be all over him.
But the way he’d flirted with her during the course of their dinner at Mizuku… Oh b
oy. Was there such a thing as a hetro-for-you phenomenon?
She knew all about the gay-for-you trope in the erotic romance-writing world, where a previously heterosexual man found himself sexually attracted to another guy, but only that guy. She’d edited a few books that dealt with that very premise. Come to think of it, hadn’t some famous heterosexual Hollywood actor announced to the world a few years ago he was in love with an Australian body builder? Or bodyguard? Or firefighter? Something like that. Chris Huntley. That’s who it was. Hadn’t Huntley confessed to being in love with the guy when the entire world—and all the women he’d had sex with—had thought he was as straight as they came? Hadn’t that happened? She was sure it had.
So if that had actually happened, wasn’t it possible she could be currently living her very own fantasy and Levi’s gay lover was legitimately sexually attracted to her? That could happen, right? And if that was the case, why the fuck had she said no last night when Levi asked her—huh, commanded her, more like it—to return with them to their apartment so they could all fuck like bunnies?
She drummed her nails on her laptop again, her stare tracking a flock of birds heading who knew where above the stubborn gumtree growing—despite her utter failure to water it—on her back fence line.
She’d been stupidly horny at the end of the evening. She’d been as sober as they come, more nervous than she’d ever been and stupidly horny. As their dinner had slowly disappeared into their stomachs, Sonja’s erotic dreams from the previous night had started coming back to her, dreams of Corbin doing stuff to her while Levi did stuff to Corbin.
The closer it had come to ending their meals, the more she’d remembered how turned-on she was by the thought of both men sexually pleasuring her. And the more turned-on she was, the more nervous she grew.
So when they’d exited Mizuku, she’d damn near squealed when Corbin had taken her hand and drawn her close to his body. Had almost whimpered as he’d lowered his face to hers and brushed her lips in the softest, most exquisitely hesitant kiss ever. Fuck, she’d almost come there and then.
The fact Levi was holding her other hand to his mouth, his warm lips on the centre of her palm, tracing tiny circles on her flesh with the tip of his tongue, had only exacerbated her arousal.
Blame it on the Bass: Heart of Fame, Book 6 Page 10