by Lilli Feisty
“Hey, Megs.”
Meg stood and gave her a hug. “Hey, sweetie. I ordered your usual.”
Ruby hung her purse on the back of a wooden folding chair and sat down, trying not to wince. Her skin still showed crimson scratches from the hairbrush bristles, and her bottom was sore from the spanking Mark had so deftly given her. He hadn’t bruised her, but she was still red. Some part of her wanted to stay that way. Marked. It was the only connection she had with him, and she didn’t want it to fade. Each time she felt the pain she remembered exactly how those marks had gotten there, and each time she recalled the scene her heart skipped and her sex began to throb.
Note to self: Spanky-spanky with Mark St. Crow? Not as easy to get over as one might think.
“So why this emergency brunch meeting, anyway? I hope it’s because you’re going to fill me in on all the naughty details of your night with Mark St. Crow.” Meg took a big sip of her foamy latte.
Ruby reached for her own latte and shook her head. “I got a call from James Cleaver today. He wants us to plan a spring-fling theme party for his company!”
Meg’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God! That’s awesome!”
“Well, there’s a catch. He wants the Riders to perform.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. He wants it to be a rock-and-roll party. Big venue, big budget. Very high-end. Spring-fling rock theme.”
Meg leaned back, and Ruby could see her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I have so many props for a party like this. We can go over the top. Very glam, very glittery.”
“I know!” Ruby said excitedly. When it came to parties, the two friends shared the same brain, which was why they’d been able to work together so long without killing each other.
Ruby picked up a menu and pretended to read it. Even though they had an office at Emmett and Meg’s place, they often met at Savor for “official” meetings. They found it was easier to be creative with the help of Savor’s excellent lattes.
“Any word from the SF Opera?” Ruby asked.
Meg shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Damn. That could have really blown us into the stratosphere of event planning.”
“Well, James Cleaver isn’t exactly small potatoes.”
“True. Speaking of which.” Ruby peeked over the top of her menu. “Maybe you can call the band’s manager and see if they’ll perform?”
“Um, no?” Meg said.
“Why not? You’re the one with the in.”
“You know why. We’re a lot more likely to get a band like the Riders to play a private event if it’s arranged outside the booking agent. And as it happens, you just spent the night with the leader of this particular band. Ergo, you need to call and ask him.”
“Um. Well—” Ruby laughed nervously. “I may not be the best person to ask Mark for any favors at the moment.”
Meg narrowed her gaze. “Why? What did you do?”
Holding the menu like a shield, Ruby slumped down into her chair. “Nothing?”
“I repeat. What. Did. You. Do.”
“Fine. I kinda kicked him out.”
“Kinda?” Meg crossed her arms over her chest.
“No.” She nodded. “I pretty much kicked him out. Totally.”
Meg was scarily still. “Please tell me you fucked him first.”
“Meg!”
“Well, did you?”
“Of course. I’m not a total idiot.”
Meg leaned over and rested her elbows on the table. “How was it?” she asked in a low, dead-serious voice.
Just thinking about Mark between her thighs excited her. She grinned. “It was amazing.”
“So. Let me get this straight. You fucked him—amazingly, I might add—then kicked him out of your bed?”
“It sounds much worse when you say it like that,” Ruby mumbled.
Leaning back in her chair, Meg started laughing. And laughing. When her guffaws finally died down, she said, “This is great. Perfect.”
“What are you talking about?”
Meg pulled her oversized black sunglasses down her nose so she could give Ruby her Scary Stare over them. “How many times do you think Mark St. Crow gets booted after a quick fuck?”
“It wasn’t that quick.” Ruby shifted in her seat. “And, not many, I’d suspect.”
“So you’ve just turned the tables on him. It’s probably killing him. A guy like that, not being the one on top?”
Ruby refrained from pointing out that last night, she had, in fact, been the one on top. On the chair, anyway.
Meg gestured toward Ruby’s purse. “I bet he calls you today.”
“No way. That is so not going to happen. I didn’t even give him my number.”
“I’m sure that won’t stop him from getting it. And when he does call, you ask him to play this event.”
Ruby just rolled her eyes. “Meg, you’re crazy.”
Meg tapped her temple with a fingertip. “Crazy like a fox.”
Swatting her friend with the menu, Ruby had to laugh. “Seriously, I really didn’t plan on seeing him again.”
“And would it be such a bad thing to see him again?” Meg asked.
“Actually, yes.” Ruby went back to hiding behind her menu.
“Why?” Meg was nothing if not persistent.
“Because. He’s just…”
“What?” Meg asked.
“Too much. It’s too intense.” He was too intense. The way he looked at her as if he knew her, the way he did know exactly what she wanted him to do to her. It was too much.
“So?”
“So? Meg, you don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“This is not a normal relationship. He’s not vanilla. And BDSM is more extreme; it makes you vulnerable. It makes me more vulnerable, anyway. And I just can’t go there with a twenty-nine-year-old musician who lives three thousand miles away, and that’s when he’s not on tour.” Ruby sipped her latte, hoping Meg would be satisfied with her explanation.
She wasn’t. “So you really never want to see him again?”
Ruby was dying to see him again. “Nope. Never.” She said, shaking her head vigorously.
“Then I suppose this would be the wrong time to tell you the band is going to be recording at Emmett’s studio starting, like, now.” She put a hand to her mouth. “Oops! Looks like I just did.”
So what Mark had said last night was true. Ruby’s heart skipped with a combination of fear and excitement. She was getting really sick of this particular feeling.
This was so not good. She was at Meg’s all the time, and now Mark was going to be there, too? She felt sweat break out under her breasts. She knew that she’d never be able to look at Mark without remembering exactly how she’d let him dominate her.
It would be torture.
“So, aren’t you a little excited to see him again?” Meg asked.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“What’s there to know? He’s hot, he’s into you—”
“But—”
“The sex was good.” Meg shrugged. “I don’t see any problem. None whatsoever.”
“Meg. I barely know him, and I’m already in a gossip column. I don’t like that. I don’t even like him.”
“Come on, Ruby. I saw the article. It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was awesome publicity for us. Next time do something scandalous so we make a national paper!” After a second Meg smiled gently. “You wanna know what I think?”
“Not especially.”
“I think Mark could really shake up your neat, orderly existence, and that freaks the shit out of you. I think you freak out whenever you get vulnerable, and something about Mark got you real vulnerable real fast.”
“Give me a break. You make me sound like a control freak!” Just then their server, Bree, arrived with two plates of food.
“Here ya go, girls,” she said, placing their plates on the table.
Meg smiled warmly. “Got a minute to cha
t with us, Bree?”
Ruby and Meg spent so much time at Savor, they’d gotten to know Bree pretty well. Still, Ruby recognized a diversion tactic when she saw one. Didn’t matter. Meg was wrong, and Ruby didn’t have the energy to argue with her about it.
“Yeah, I have a few minutes.” Bree pulled a chair over to their table and straddled it. With her short, spiky hair, androgynous body, and gorgeous face, Bree was simply striking. She wore a tight T-shirt and black skinny jeans, and both her wrists were weighed down with dozens of silver and black bracelets that jangled as she crossed her arms over the back of the chair.
“So what’s going on, ladies?” Bree asked. “You two have been in heavy conversation since you got here. Work stuff?”
Meg grinned mischievously. “Ruby spent the night with Mark St. Crow.”
Ruby kicked her best friend under the table, and Meg yelled, “Ouch! What? It’s not like it’s a secret; your picture’s in the paper!”
Bree simply raised one eyebrow at Ruby. “No shit?” Ruby wondered if anything ever fazed the cool server. “His band has a wicked-hot singer.”
“You know the Riders?” Ruby asked. Was she the only one in the world who hadn’t heard of the band?
Bree nodded. “Yeah. I read an interview in Gaydar last year. Yvette sounded interesting, so I’ve been following her career.”
Ruby paused with a bite of omelet halfway to her mouth. “Wait a minute. Did you say Gaydar?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Is Yvette gay?”
Bree nodded. “As a blade. You look shocked.”
“I am. It’s just that Mark implied she was his ex-girlfriend.”
“Well, from all I’ve read, that woman hasn’t slept with a man since she turned sixteen. She’s very open about her sexuality, which is pretty hot.”
Ruby chewed her eggs thoughtfully. “So, if she’s not his ex, why does she hate me?” For some reason it was better if Yvette was a jealous ex-girlfriend. If Yvette wasn’t in love with Mark, why had she given her the evil eye all night?
“No idea,” Bree said. “So. Mark St. Crow. I can see why you think he’s cute. In a breeder kind of way.”
Ruby tried to look indifferent. “It was a one-night stand. Fun was had by all. Now it’s back to normal life.” Ruby shoved a bite of toast into her mouth.
Bree and Meg just stared at her.
“Seriously, it’s true—oh, look. My cell’s ringing, be right back.” Seeing an unfamiliar number, Ruby jumped up and stepped into a jasmine-covered alcove. “This is Ruby.”
“Hey, baby.”
Her heart stopped. “Mark?”
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, after what happened last night, when I, you know…”
“Kicked me out?” he said, and she could practically see him grinning that wicked smile of his.
“Yeah,” she said. And part of her felt guilty for asking him to leave, even if she knew it was for the best.
“Emmett gave me your number.”
“Right.” Of course he did.
“I just wanted to say thanks for last night.”
She smiled. “You forgot to leave a tip.”
“Well, lucky for you I’m going to be back in San Francisco sooner than I thought. I can give you lots more tips. In fact, I can’t wait to tip you again. Tip you over my knee, over the side of a bed, the kitchen table—”
“Mark! What’s gotten into you?”
“As I recall, last night I was into you.”
“Oh my God. You’re awful.” So why was she trying so hard not to laugh?
“I want to see you again. I’m recording with Emmett, so plan on it.”
Staring at the jasmine, she fought for patience. “Mark. Listen. What happened last night… it can’t happen again.”
“Why not?”
The simple question hung between them as she considered her words. “Because, I have other priorities right now.” Which do not include falling for a bad-boy rock star. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Make time.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I just can’t.” A couple passing by looked startled as she shouted the last word. Turning, she lowered her voice. “Listen, I admit I was curious to know what it would be like to… you know, be spanked. So thank you for that.”
“Um, you’re welcome?”
“But I don’t want to do it again.” Not with you, anyway.
“Why?”
“Because.” Her voice sounded weak even to her own ears. Shit.
“Because why?” He asked again in a serious tone she responded to.
“If you must know it’s because I liked you too much. I mean, I liked it too much.”
“In my world, you can never have too much of a good thing.”
“See?” she said. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. In my world, you can.”
She heard him take a deep breath and then, “Do you ever let go? Oh, wait. It’s all coming together now. The only time you do let go is when you’re bound. And I bet you never let go like you did with me. You were mine within minutes. No wonder you’re so freaked out.”
“That isn’t true!” Why did everyone keep saying that she was freaking out? “I don’t freak out.”
“Tell me something.”
“No.”
“Are you sore this morning? On your ass? Can you see where I left you marked?”
“No, and no.” But just his words made her body burn with lust, and she knew he’d see right through her lie.
“I don’t believe you. I think you love it. I think just the thought of submitting to me makes your toes curl.”
Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t answer. Arrogant bastard. Why did he have to be so fucking right?
“You’re so freaked out because that dickhead bondage guy never gave you what you really desired. But I did, didn’t I, Ruby?”
“You got lucky.”
“I agree. I got fucking lucky the second I saw you last night. And I’m going to get lucky again.”
“You really are one of the most egotistical men I’ve ever met.”
“No doubt. And yet you trusted me on the most intimate level, didn’t you?”
She nodded absently. And then, “Why me? You can have any girl you want. Why are you working this hard for me?”
“Because just like I gave you something you wanted, you did the same for me. I’m not asking you to marry me here. I’m just saying I want to see you again.”
Every fiber of her being was yelling no, telling her to run away as fast as she could and never look back. And yet, there was a part of her that so badly wanted to see him again. To submit to him again. Just the thought made her insides quiver.
“Fine. But I’m only agreeing because I know you’re too stubborn to give up, and I suspect that once the chase is over, you’ll move on.”
A long pause, and she wondered if she’d gone too far. But then he said, “Oh, Ruby.” His voice was deep, husky. “Baby, I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”
Her body should not be trembling from those words. Her pussy should not be moist. And her toes should definitely not be curling.
But even if she did have the self-discipline to say no to Mark, there was the little matter of getting the Riders to play at James Cleaver’s party.
“Fine.” Straightening, she cleared her throat. “Meanwhile, I have a favor to ask.”
Chapter
Eight
Don’t make me regret this.”
Mark looked up from the notebook in which he’d been jotting down the lyrics for a new song. Because apparently the world needed one more song with the word Ruby in the title. “What?” he said, eyeing Yvette.
She sat on the edge of the hotel bed, her guitar resting on her lap. “Recording this album in San Francisco.”
They’d left San Francisco a week ago, and last night had been their final tour date. Now they were returning to San Francisco la
ter that day to start recording with Emmett.
“What are you talking about?” He tried to hide his irritability at being interrupted midthought. He’d had this melody in his head, and some lyrics, and he needed to work it out.
“Oh, come now. I’m not above eavesdropping. I know you’ve called her or sent a text message to her every day this week.”
It was true. He’d wanted to hear Ruby’s voice, to know she was thinking about him. She always kept it short, but at least she answered, even if he had a feeling she did so just because he hadn’t yet given her the okay on her party. Yeah, he was milking that one for all he could.
And, he was dying to get back to Ruby. The thought made him shift, his balls suddenly tight.
“You know how intense recording can be; we need all your focus on this album. Don’t let her get in the way.”
He gripped his pencil. The problem with having such a close relationship with Yvette was that she knew exactly how to piss him off. But all he said was, “This is a girl I’ve met once.”
She strummed a chord. “I would like to declare an official position on your interest in a certain dark-haired girl to whom you seem to have become attached.”
“Is that so?”
“Don’t do it.”
Using the tip of his pencil, he stabbed a hard beat on the notebook.
“Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle it.”
“Aha! So you admit there is something to handle?”
“Yvette. Watch it.”
“I did. Last weekend. I watched you miss a beat because you were smitten with a girl in the audience.”
He slammed his notebook shut, annoyed that he hadn’t gotten his thoughts on paper. “Are you saying you’ve never had an off night? Because that’s not true. In fact, I’ve noticed the bottle of wine you drink before each show isn’t exactly helping your performance.”
Green eyes blazing, she stood. “What are you saying?”
“Maybe you should lay off the booze for a bit. You’re getting sloppy.”
“At least I didn’t speak for the band and agree to play some stupid yuppie party, all to get in some chick’s pants. It’s not cool.”
The tension in the room grew as they stared at each other. But Mark wasn’t about to back down, even if it struck him as strange that he was fighting with Yvette about a girl. In all their years together, this was a first.