Quartet #1
Fire for You
By Michelle Love
Facebook Michelle Love
Copyright 2016 by Michelle Love- All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Contenido
Quartet #1
Fire for You
Quartet #2
Burn for You
Quartet #3
Crazy for You
Quartet #4
Ache for You
Arsen’s Rules
1-15
An Alpha-Male Billionaire Paranormal Romance Thriller BOX SET 1-72
Preview of : The Billionaire’s Brother
An Alpha-Male Billionaire Bad Boy BDSM Romance Thriller
The Shameless Billionaire Series
Book 1- Collision Course
The Shameless Billionaire Series
Book 2
Casanova’s Coach
Seattle
After their CEO, Tomas, strives to find a new act to mentor, he lucks out in Seattle where he discovers a covers band, The 9th & Pine, that has built up a cult following, mostly due to the singer, Bay, being an incredible singer. Off-stage, however, Tom finds that she is a shy, solitary creature and their immediate attraction sends her running for cover. Her band mates, Kym, and Pete, convince Bay to allow Tom to help her write original material for the band and slowly, she begins to grow in confidence. She discovers that under the Harvard billionaire exterior lies the soul of a true music geek and in turn, he wins her trust enough that she tells him why she held back from getting involved with him; the suicide of her younger brother, Ravi. Soon they cannot deny their attraction and their relationship turns sexual. Tom and Bay fall in love but their happiness is marred by Kym's boyfriend, Stu, the band's de facto manager, who becomes increasingly convinced that Tom is grooming Bay for solo success, and begins to turn Kym against her best friend...
The note hung in the air, pure and clear. As it faded out, the singer drew in a deep breath then brought her hand down and the crowd leaped as one, moving with the swell of the beat, arms in the air, the sweltering heat of the auditorium pulsating through their limbs.
He moved through the crowd, never taking his eyes from the beautiful brunette at the front of the stage. Despite her small size, the command she had over the audience, the presence was palpable. Their eyes met…and held. A shock passed through him, his breath caught, his groin tightened. Time stopped.
As quickly as it happened, she looked away and he realized, that in this melee, in this beautiful old building, Seattle’s Paramount on the corner of Ninth and Pine, she could be looking at anyone. He watched as the band, the brunette, the blond guitarist who looked faintly familiar, the huge, bearded drummer who was grinning madly as he pounded the drums. They were all so different he thought, his gaze returning to the singer. Her dark hair tumbled down her back, strands sticking to the sheen of sweat on her lovely face, her smile joyous and infectious. There was a woman, he thought, who was doing the thing she loved the most, her reason for being, her passion.
That was the moment Tomas Meir fell in love with Bay Tambe.
It had been his idea, his dream, his vision. Nearing forty and bored as hell at his own successful law firm, Tomas Meir had woken night after night with the crushing feeling of disappointment in his own life, that somehow, it was all slipping away with nothing to show. Typical mid-life crisis, he’d tried to reason. After all, he was Harvard-educated, still only in his twenties when he’d started the entertainment law firm that had made him a billionaire before thirty. He knew where it had stemmed from, this feeling of dissatisfaction.
It had been his thirty-fourth birthday and he’d gone to Boston. He’d gotten together with his three best friends, his buddies from Harvard: Sam Hamilton, marketing guru to the fashion industry and Otis and Roman Ford, twin geniuses from old money, superstar surgeon and businessman respectively.
It had been a riot, a night of busting each other’s chops, catching up and reminiscing.
It had only been later when they’d settled into Tom’s hotel lounge with heavy glasses of sour mash in their hands that Sam had told them.
Cancer. Six months. Their hearts were broken.
In the end, it was only four months, the cancer spreading through Sam’s previously athletic body like wildfire. At the funeral, Sam’s only living relative, his younger brother Dash, had pleaded with them to stay in touch – his only link to his family.
They’d done more than that. When Tomas had the idea to start the record company, a seed that had been planted in their Harvard days when they would commandeer one of the music rooms and jam for hours when they should have been studying. They were obsessed with music – ate, slept, drank it every minute they weren’t being primed for a life of law and medicine by their ambitious fathers.
After Sam’s funeral, Tom stayed in Boston to talk to Dash. He told him that he and the Ford Brothers were starting a new venture together – a record company and they wanted Dash to join them. He’d barely gotten the words out before Dash said yes.
Now, the fledgling company was competing with the big boys. Tom’s unerring eye for talent had secured him some of the best new acts around and for the last two years, he’d been so busy with them that he’d pushed his scouting to the backburner. It itched at him, though, the thrill of discovery. When his assistant, Meg, had mentioned a weekend in Seattle and seeing, as she had put it, ‘the most rocking covers band I’ve ever seen’, he couldn’t resist.
Now as he filed out with rest of the audience into the cold Seattle night, his heart was pounding, his senses in overdrive. He knew without a doubt they were the ones; the band he would personally champion to superstardom. He had found them.
He had found her…
***
Bay stood under the shower in the dressing room, letting the hot water soothe and cleanse her tired body. She massaged shampoo into her long, dark hair, feeling the water glide through the wet strands. Friday nights at the Ninth & Pine club were never boring. The band’s reputation in Seattle now was such that people booked well in advance to see them. Bay shook her head, smiling. She couldn’t get over it – they were just a local covers band, for chrissakes, but their gigs, every second Friday after midnight, were always packed.
Bay stepped out of the shower and quickly dried and dressed. A loud rapping and her best friend Kym, the band’s guitarist, stuck her head around the door.
‘Stu says the guy’s waiting for us in the bar.’
‘I’ll be two minutes.’
‘Cool.’ Kym’s head disappeared. Bay sighed. She hated anything to do with Stu Lawson, Kym’s long-term English boyfriend. Oily, smarmy creep. Bay grinned to herself. Whoever this latest guy was that Stu wanted them to meet – to further the band’s success, he’d put it – was bound to be another low rent shyster looking to exploit them. Bay dried her hair quickly, pulling it into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, then smoothed her tea dress down over her curves. She glanced at the clock – it was after two a.m. now and she would meet this guy then head home. The store would have to be opened at eight – she calculated she would have about four hours sleep maximum and the thought made her fain
tly nauseous.
She pulled the dressing room door shut behind her and made her way slowly to the bar. Pete, the big bear heart of their band, met her halfway, throwing a huge arm across her shoulders. He had about the same regard for Stu as she did and they exchanged a loaded grin now as they walked into the bar. Stu was standing at the bar, his back turned as he chatted to the record company guy. Bay felt a little flip in her stomach as she realized who it was. The guy from the crowd. She’d seen him before, at their last two gigs, – she could hardly miss him, he was so tall he towered over the rest of the crowd – but tonight, as she’d sung the final notes of the song, their eyes had met and she’d felt it…everywhere. A sledgehammer to her chest, a frantic pulse between her legs. She took a deep breath in now as they approached the men and they turned to greet them. Stu made the introductions but she barely heard him except for the guy’s name – Tomas. Tom smiled down at her, his green eyes intense, focused entirely on hers. He didn’t rake his eyes up and down her body in that sleazy way Stu always did but kept his eyes locked on hers. It was incredibly sensual and Bay could imagine him leaning in, pressing those cool lips to hers and…
‘Hey, space cadet.’ Kym nudged her and Bay blinked. ‘Let’s grab a table.’
As they made their way to one of the booths, she heard Stu remark. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said to Tomas, ‘...it’s her artistic temperament.’
Turning to shoot him a death stare, Bay flushed at Stu’s rudeness and Tomas’s eyes narrowed at Stu before he smiled down at Bay. ‘Nothing to apologize for. I’m always daydreaming – best way to filter out the crap some people talk.’
Bay snorted with laughter and Tomas grinned at her. They all sat down in one of the booths and Bay couldn’t help the little thrill passing through her at Tomas deliberately putting himself between her and Stu. Sitting so closely together, she could feel the heat of his body, his big thigh against hers in the cramped table. God, she wanted to touch it, wanted him to touch her. She’d been exhausted after the gig but now every cell in her body was alive, sparking with excitement and arousal.
Tomas began to talk about his project and suddenly she was interested; he wanted to champion the band into a major recording deal.
‘The fact your gigs are always packed has gotten a lot of buzz in the industry,’ he told them, ‘nowadays when the recording industry is flooded with manufactured, plasticized bands or whiny little mean girls’ – Bay had to laugh at that one, Pete grinned too, ‘what we’re looking for is to develop a band whose innate talent is…well, I’m not going to say wasted, not after that incredible gig, but whose talent could be developed into something quite extraordinary and lucrative. I don’t see why there can’t be both music of real quality and genuine talent to go along with record sales.’
Bay was impressed and she looked over to Kym and Pete who both looked excited.
‘And you think we’re the band to do that with?’ Pete asked Tomas, who nodded.
‘Absolutely. If one gig can have that effect on me…’ He looked back at Bay now, and a smile creased his handsome face. She felt her stomach do that flippy thing again and pressed her hand against it to quell the sensation.
‘What label are you with?’ She felt like she was gibbering, so distracting was this man. Before he could answer, Stu cursed loudly.
‘For fuck’s sake, Bay, do you have to be so clueless? Tom is Quartet Records.’
Tom narrowed his eyes at Stu. ‘Watch your mouth, Lawson. Remind me again what it is you do?’ As he came to her defense, a squirming Bay felt his hand close over hers, hidden by the table. He held it for a brief second – I got your back – then let it go. Her skin burned where he touched her and she smiled at him gratefully.
‘I’m the band’s manager,’ Stu said in a mock-patient voice. ‘I brought you in, remember?’
Tom’s answering smile was cool. ‘Vividly.’
Bay choked on her drink and Pete snorted with laughter. Kym grinned then shot a look at her boyfriend’s tight face and smoothed it out, but not before shooting an apologetic look at Bay. She was used to refereeing Bay and Stu’s antagonistic relationship. Not for the first time, Bay wondered what she saw in the idiot. She turned back to Tom.
‘So, when you say development?’
‘I mean you writing original songs for the band – have you considered that before? I understood from Stuart that you’ve discussed it.’
Bay smiled at Kym, who nodded. ‘Life got in the way.’
‘You all have full-time jobs then?’
For the next few minutes, as Kym and Pete talked about their jobs – record store clerk and kindergarten teacher respectively – Bay had a chance to study Tomas Meir. Dark, close-cropped curls, a finely angled face with an aquiline nose, full, sensual mouth. Thick dark lashes framed those intensely green eyes and it was all she could do not run brush her fingers across them. God, he was…she was casting around for the right word when he turned that gaze back to her and the word came to her. Glorious.
‘And what about you, Bay?’
The way he said her name made her toes curl with desire and she had to take a beat before she answered him.
‘I run my uncle’s motorcycle franchise.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘Well, that was unexpected.’
She laughed then. ‘I say run it…I’m having to sell the business.’
‘I’m sorry.’
She shook her head, picking up her beer. ‘Don’t be. It’s kind of a relief if I’m honest. I know nothing about bikes or anything to do with the motor industry, period. I just helped out when my uncle got too sick to run it.’
‘I’m sorry. Is he still with you?’
She shook her head, surprised with herself. She never talked about her family. Never. What was it about this man that made her want to tell him everything? ‘No, he died last year.’
‘Any other family here in Seattle?’
She swallowed the overwhelming sadness within her. ‘No. Not anymore.’ The others were talking amongst themselves and suddenly she was aware the conversation between her and Tomas had taken on an intimate atmosphere. He smiled at her, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
‘So,’ he said gently, ‘maybe we can work something out to fill your days. Kym tells me you’re the songwriting genius in the band. I’d like to take you into the studio and see what happens.’
Bay’s mouth jerked up in a smile. Why did that sound so dirty in her mind? Tomas must have realized what he’d said because two spots of pink appeared at the top of his cheekbones. The effect was strange on such a confident man yet it made Bay warm to him even more.
‘Well,’ she said, sticking her tongue in her cheek, ‘wouldn’t that be…interesting?’
There was a short silence then they both burst out laughing. It broke the tension and Bay felt herself relaxing in his company.
‘What are you two talking about? If it’s something to do with the band…’ Stu’s voice was whiny, plaintiff and Bay felt a flash of annoyance. Tomas shot Stu a withering look.
‘Don’t worry, Lawson, nothing to do with money. We were just discussing writing some songs.’
Kym leaned over, looking excited. ‘So you’ll do it?’ She beamed at Bay and Bay couldn’t help nodding and smiling at her best friend.
‘For you, anything,’ she said and Kym squealed in delight. Pete, who hadn’t missed the chemistry between Bay and Tomas, squeezed Bay’s hand.
‘About damn time,’ he said in his deep booming voice and he nodded to Tomas, satisfied. Bay could tell he approved and she was glad. Pete Espinoza was rarely wrong about people and if he could see Tomas was the real deal, then she knew – it wasn’t just her hormones working. The thought made her grin.
Later, at almost four a.m., Tomas walked Bay to her battered, much loved Mustang. Tomas whistled through his teeth as he saw the car.
‘Boss 302, very nice. Thought you said you knew nothing about cars.’
Bay grinned shyly. ‘It was my brother’s. He sold
it to me when he ‘upgraded’ to a Merc. I told him he had no taste.’
‘Excuse me, I have a Mercedes.’ He pretended to be affronted and she grinned.
‘Then you both have no taste.’
‘Your brother’s gone?’
She nodded and looked away from his gaze. Tomas nodded, studying her reaction. There was a story there, he was sure, but he didn’t want to intrude on her privacy. Who are you kidding, Meir? Ever since she’d walked into the bar, there had been an almost unbearable tension between them and now, in the soft light of early morning, she looked so beautiful, he just wanted to kiss her, feel her arms around him. Her café-au-lait skin, that soft tumble of dark waves over her shoulders, the dark burgundy of her full lips and those eyes – they had been the biggest surprise. He’d expected dark brown but when finally, he’d seen her close up, he saw they were the deepest violet he had ever seen, rimmed by thick black lashes. He’d been lost the moment he looked into them. God, let’s be real man, you want to fuck her senseless. He pushed the thought aside. If they were going to be working together…
‘If we’re going to be working together,’ she said suddenly, echoing his thoughts so much he started, surprised. ‘Then…we should probably…’ She was blushing madly and he couldn’t stop himself, he took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back, her little fingers tangling in his short hair, her tongue caressing his. He pushed up her skirt as she reached for his fly, freeing his diamond-hard cock from his pants. He tore the panties from her and lifted her up, pressing her back against the car as he thrust deeply into her, his cock huge and pulsing with his desire for her. His hands molded around her beautiful breasts as he slid his hands into her dress, under her bra. God, the feel of her as he moved in and out of her was…
‘Tom?’
He blinked. Bay stood in front of him, an amused frown on her face. Fully dressed and not, unfortunately, being thoroughly and comprehensively fucked by him. Dammit. His cock strained painfully against his underwear.
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