Dangerous Daddy
Page 50
Tony trotted up to her with a grin on his face. In his hand was a half bottle of water, and his T-shirt was soaked on the chest and back. His sandy hair was dark from the moisture of sweat. She felt bad that she hadn’t even glanced at him on stage. Her eyes and mind were only on Colt. This fact baffled her.
“Hey, there you are!” he greeted.
“You guys were great.” She returned his smile, hoping that he would avoid asking any question about his performance. She could not remember which instrument he played. Mike was on drums, she remembered that because Molly always spoke of him.
“We’re having a get together with friends for a couple of hours, how about joining us?” he asked with an expectant stare.
She wasn’t sure that was a good idea. What it Reid … or Colt needed her? “I need to ask Reid if he needs me,” she replied.
“Let’s go do that,” he stated and took her hand.
When they reached Colt’s tent, Reid was coming through the flap. He stopped when he saw them, waiting to hear what they had to say. She wondered what the note was about and why he’d reacted to it in that manner.
Tony’s voice split through her thoughts. “The guys are getting together with some friends, I want to take Chelsea along, but she felt she needed your permission first.”
Reid snickered. “You don’t need my permission.”
“Let’s go then.” Tony sounded elated.
As they moved off, another voice echoed behind them. “Chelsea can’t go.” Her legs pulled up short along with her heart. “I need her,” Colt said.
She turned, and he was standing in the entryway of the small cubicle. Reid looked at them both and threw his hands in the air before walking away. Tony glared at Colt, and he glowered back. For about a minute, they both passed daggers at each other until she turned to Tony.
“I’m sorry, I can’t go.”
“I see,” he retorted. His voice took on an icy tone.
She watched him walk away before turning back to Colt. She was about to ask him what he needed when he beckoned her inside the tent. With some amount of reservation, she went in, standing just inside the flap. His back was to her as he spoke.
“You need to set your priorities and remember who you are working for.” His tone was hard.
“Pardon me?” she asked, not comprehending what he said.
He whipped around. “You work for me, no one else,” he spat.
“I-I-I know that,” she returned.
He stepped forward. “Are you sure about that? You seem to be spending a lot of time with Tony.”
“Well … I … he …” she tried to explain. Instead, she apologized. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”
What’s with the attitude? Was what she wanted to ask, but that was not her nature. She sighed. Relaxing her shoulders, she cast her eye on his white loafers as a way to avoid his eyes.
“Let’s go, I’m not in a mood to party,” he said, stepping past her. She followed right behind and almost collided with his back when he pulled up short. “From now on, you go wherever I say, got that?”
“Yes,” was her soft reply.
The guards pulled the barrier to the let the limo through. Colt let her slip in first before taking his seat. There were snacks and champagne inside, obviously prepared for a small party. She wanted to ask why the other band members did not travel in the same vehicle. She refrained. He certainly had the money for two limousines. In addition, the boys seemed to roll with different crowds.
“Are you hungry?” his voice startled her. He’d never asked about her welfare before.
“Yes,” she said.
He opened a mini refrigerator and pulled out two sandwiches, one of which he handed to her. She took it and gave him a grateful smile. Her mouth watered at the pulled pork with cheese on rye. She bit into it with gusto, remembering she had not eaten since lunch.
Though they both ate in silence, she was aware of him. His male scent was intoxicating, and his presence a little imposing. He handed her a bottle of water in silence and went back to his own. The quiet was nice. They were both people of few words, but she would have preferred at least a conversion instead of hearing her blood rush through the vein behind her ears.
When they reached the hotel back entrance and opened the limo door, there was another mob awaiting them. This time, there were flashes of light as people snapped photos. The noise was shell shocking, a distinction from the silence earlier. As before, the bodyguards were on hand to escort them safely. Colt, unlike before, was not smiling and didn’t even look at the crowd.
“Are you okay,” she didn’t know when the words slipped out.
They were at the top of the stairs, and she noticed his tension in his shoulders. He’d donned a white T-shirt after the performance, and she could see his back muscles how they moved. But there were two small bulges at the back of his shoulders that seemed to stand erect. They did not flex like the others.
He came up short. “Just dandy,” he growled. “Just fracking dandy.”
He moved off again and then stopped. There was a man leaning against the passage wall near to the suite door. He had a camera on a string around his neck along with an ID that said, Carl Benson—Journalist. In his hands were a small black device and a pen. Reporter, she noted. She moved past Colt and hurried over.
“Can I help you?” she asked, surprised at how curt she sounded.
“Colt knows me; I’m sure he wouldn’t mind telling me how his night went,” the man said, looking past her, resting his hard cobalt eyes on Colt.
“I’m sorry, Colt won’t be taking any interviews tonight,” she replied evenly.
He looked at her with a smile that didn’t pass his lips. “And you are the new aide, I suppose?”
“You can call it that. If you’ll excuse us,” she replied.
Colt approached and eyed him. She opened the suite door, and he sauntered in. She followed behind and closed the door, shutting out the reporter. However, she came to a dead halt when she noticed a man standing across the room near the window in the shadows.
Colt stood rooted to the spot. The blood had drained from his face, and he stared blankly at the man. Chelsea moved into action and plucked her cell phone from her pocket, dialing the security guard’s number. He was less than a minute away. She was sure they hadn’t yet reached the staircase.
“Hello, Colt,” the man said, stepping into the light.
Right about then, the door burst open, and the two bouncers came through. She pointed to the man, and they rushed forward. While they were at it, she dialed Reid’s number.
“I’m in the elevator, what’s happening?” he answered.
“There’s a man in the suite, I called security, but Colt looks weird, like he’s seen a ghost or something,” she said in a low voice.
“I’m in the hallway,” he said and hung up.
“Let’s go, buddy,” one of the security guards said. The two guards held one arm each in a bid to escort the fellow.
“Are you going to let them do this Colt? I’m your brother for God’s sake!”
The guards paused at the same time as Reid entered. The security men looked at them for answers, and Reid jutted his head towards the door.
“Take him out,” he said. “He has no right in this room without an invite. If he wants to see Colt, he’ll have to get in line just like everybody else.”
The men pulled at the man whose face twisted angrily. It then occurred to her that she’d seen him. He was the same man she saw that evening while leaving for the concert. The look on his face then was no different from the look now. His face was hardened with hatred, and he did not try to hide it.
When she peered over at Colt, he was still blank. He walked to the sofa and sat. She followed and perched beside him.
“Are you sure we should send him away?” she quietly asked.
“He’s not my brother. My mother married his father, and we are no longer family,” Colt told her, his tone bland.
Colt stood and looked at Chelsea. “Don’t go too far,” he said and walked to his room.
She looked on as the door snapped shut. She glanced over at Reid, not knowing what Colt was asking.
“Don’t worry, he won’t bother you. Just stay here the night. I’ll be here as well. You can have the sofa.”
“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll just freshen up and get a few things.
* * * *
Colt showered and slipped naked under the sheets. The night was warm, and he turned up the AC. Sleep refused to come as flashes of things he could not fully recall entered his mind. He saw blood and heard his mother’s screams, but that was it. Try as he might, he could not remember much more.
He turned over in the bed and buried his face in the pillow, willing the images to leave him. They stayed with him. He knew those images were of when he was only a boy, but he understood the pain and felt the anger. Then there was the blood.
He must have drifted off because he awoke in a cold sweat to the sounds of his own screams. Chelsea rushed in, followed by Reid. He sat up abruptly and gasped for air. The room became stuffy, making him feel as if he couldn’t breathe.
Everything seemed blurry. He made out Chelsea running back to the hall and returning with a glass of water. He downed it in one gulp and laid back on the pillow. The dream eluded him as his breathing steadied and his heart rate returned to normal.
Chapter 10
Colt closed the bedroom door behind him and kicked off his shoes. It was the day after the concert and his shoulders were sore from the tension of the previous day. He rolled his neck, thinking briefly of calling a masseuse, but what he really needed was a good screw. Unless the masseuse was female and willing to give, it was no use.
His mind went back to his performance less than twenty hours ago. Leaning his back against the door, he closed his eyes, recalling the chanting of the crowd. The emotions and the sizzle in the air was one of a kind. It was one of his best performances. As he stood on stage, it was as if he could feel the electricity from the crowd. His heart had thundered widely in his chest with his adrenaline rushing through his veins.
This performance was different. Usually, he just did his cocky shit and didn’t give a damn. The crowd always loved him no matter what he did. Before tonight, his moves were calculated, rehearsed to please them. However, something had happened to him just before heading onto the stage. What came over him on that stage, he had no control over. He was on a natural high.
It was all because of her, Chelsea. She sat in the VIP section, and he felt his heart pump unevenly in his chest every time his eyes landed on her. And at that moment, he’d do something crazy. In addition to that, seeing her ass in those jeans gave him a hard-on, which caused him to go on stage completely sexually riled.
Coupled with his tension, was the frustration that he found her attractive. He let it out, all of his pent up frustrations, and the crowd responded. But it all came crashing down when he received the note from his stepbrother. Now, his mood took a complete one-eighty seeing Jason in his hotel room.
He peeled off his clothes, headed to the bathroom, trying to push Jason from his mind. That only led to thinking about Chelsea. As soon as she popped into his head, heat curled in his belly. As usual, he was sporting an erection, which seemed to be a permanent part of him. He was psyched and badly needed release. He turned the faucet on cold and allowed the water to chill his hot skin.
Little vapors rose from his body as the cold water bounced off him. The sizzle he felt inside started to cool. He allowed the sounds of his fans chanting his name to push her from his mind. With a deep sigh, he allowed his tense shoulders to relax. He felt the tension evaporate and was about ready to rejoice when Chelsea’s face flashed before him. Along with her pink pouting lips and sparkling emerald eyes, a bolt of electric current ran up his spine. His cock, which had started to sag, bounced under the water, becoming harder than it was before.
“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath, turning the faucet on full blast.
The icy cold water sprayed him violently as he tried to push her from his mind. It was a difficult feat. Not only was his erection uncontrollable, but his heart was doing backflips also. He closed his eyes and gripped the offending organ. Immediately, he felt a rush of current sprint to his belly.
“Damn,” he growled as the feeling spread throughout his body.
With his free hand, he adjusted the temperature to match his body heat while he played with his thickness. He made three strokes before his phone, which was sitting on the bathroom sink, started vibrating, creating a racket on the hard surface. He turned the water off and grabbed the phone.
“This better be damn good!” he almost shouted into it.
“Did I interrupt something?” Tara’s voice came over the phone.
He looked down at his hardness and replied sourly, “As a matter of fact, you did.”
With a grunt, he grabbed the large white towel from the rack and began toweling himself with one hand. His mind flicked back to a few minutes earlier and feeling, disgruntled about not getting his release. However, if things went well, in a few hours, he’d be dipping into some nice hot flesh. Tara was always wet and waiting.
“Yeah,” he said. He heard nothing she was saying on the other end, but he knew she was checking about the party. “I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes.”
He hung up the phone and finished toweling his hair, after which he dragged on the usual jean and muscle tank top. His hair was still a little damp, and it hung loosely around his shoulders. Ready to go, he headed to the door, but paused, wondering where his manager was. He knew Chelsea was inside the living room, but he wasn’t sure where Reid was.
He yanked the door open and casually strolled in, his eyes darting around the room. Reid was absent, but Chelsea was sitting at the desk typing away at a laptop. His eyes lingered on her a minute, taking in her messy auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail, her wide, thick-rimmed glasses and baggy T-shirt over baggier jeans.
His mind was playing tricks on him. This was not the same girl wearing the tight jeans less than 24 hours ago. She was not the same girl in the VIP section right below the stage where he could see her every reaction, the awe on her face and wonder in her eyes. This could never be the same one who gave him such a rush that he’d briefly … very briefly thought of ravaging her. He shook his head and walked to the front door, only glancing back once. She was still typing away.
* * * *
Chelsea let out a long breath as Colt went through the front door. She had pretended to be engrossed in her work to avoid his eyes, the disapproval in them. He’d stared at her with such intensity the night before that she had been afraid his glare would burn her alive. There were moments when he was on stage that she thought he was looking at her.
His performance came back to her. She could think of little else for the past twenty hours. Colt on that stage was like a different man. His deep voice as it serenaded the crowd had also serenaded her, so much that she secretly downloaded some of his songs on her iPod. She picked up the iPod and put the earplugs in her ears. As she turned on his latest song, “Rock My World”, she remembered that she should have found out where he was going to be.
“Shucks!” she cursed. “Reid is going to kill me.”
The last instruction left by the manager was that she should find out where he was headed. Reid told her that he was going to need some down time, and he was certain the star was going to head out. Colt refused to have a bodyguard with him, so that also left them in the dark about his whereabouts. In addition, he always ended up in trouble when left on his own.
The door burst open, and she jumped. Cory, Mike, and Tony walked in with Reid right behind. The guys greeted her and plopped themselves on the sofa while Reid walked
over to the desk. She glued her eyes to the laptop and wished he would forget what he asked her to do. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask, she repeated in her head, hoping that Reid would go back out.
“So where’s he off to this time?” Darn it!
“He … I … well,” she blubbered.
“You didn’t ask him did you?” Reid sounded exasperated. “Chelsea, when are you going to stop being afraid of Colt?”
“I’m not afraid,” she replied when she really meant, never!
Colt was not only a complete jackass but also dangerously having a weird effect on her psyche. She thought of him every few minutes, and it made her feel warm all over. There were moments when he was nice to her, and her heart would be raging like a bucking bronco. There were also moments when he’d look at her, and she felt like she was melting. Yes, she was terrified since she had no clue why she was reacting to him in such a weird way.
“Colt, where are you?” Reid was shouting into the phone.
She hadn’t noticed when he dialed. Her mind had shifted back to Colt for a few seconds. His handsome face flashed before her … her brain froze on that thought. Handsome face? She saw it clearly, his angular jaw, full, fleshy lips and his hazel eyes. His eyes were sharp, and when they looked at her, they deepened in shade. Why? she wondered. She especially liked the way he looked now, with his two-day-old growth beard.
“What’s the matter? You’re hyperventilating,” Reid was standing close to her, and she was breathing rapidly and shallow.
A light-headed feeling enveloped her, and her chest constricted. Was this a panic attack? No! her mind was screaming. With haste and a need to breathe freely, Chelsea rushed to the door. She could hear Reid’s voice call her name. It seemed like a distance away.
She dragged the door opened and stumbled into the hallway. There, she leaned her back against the wall, closing her eyes. What’s wrong with me? With several deep breaths, her breathing went back to normal, but her heart was still pummeling her chest. It had slowed, just a little, but she could feel her pulse throbbing along with its beat in unison.