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by Melissa Pearl


  I squeezed Parker’s hand as he led me down the street, my grip loosening when we rounded the corner and came face to face with a security guard who was as wide as he was tall.

  “Hey, Murphy.” Parker greeted him with an easy smile.

  “Evening, Mr. Stewart.” His huge chin bunched when he nodded.

  Parker pointed at me. “This is one of our new girls.”

  Murphy gave me a tight, closed-mouth smile, which I mirrored. I didn’t like being referred to as one of Parker’s girls. It didn’t sit right with me.

  I ignored the niggle inside, reminding myself to make the most of this. Worrying about niggles wasn’t going to get me a recording contract. I had to do whatever it took to get me where I wanted to be.

  Murphy pulled back the big, black door and let us in.

  “I thought I’d bring you in the back way.” Parker grinned. “The line out the front is always so long, and I don’t like getting heckled when they let us waltz right through.”

  I nodded, only half-listening. I was too busy concentrating on not breaking my ankle as I tottered up the darkened stairwell. Parker let go of my hand when we reached the top, stepping aside so I could walk in front of him. We moved into a dazzling dressing room. It was empty, but I smiled when I saw the row of mirrors with makeup splayed across the counters in front of it. I took in the glittery material draped over backs of chairs and the bright lights surrounding each mirror. It was like real Hollywood behind the scenes stuff, and I was going to be getting ready in this room.

  “Nice space, right?” Parker touched my lower back.

  “Yeah, this looks amazing.” My chuckle was breathy and a little too fan-girlish for my tastes. I swallowed it back and pulled a confident smile.

  “Come on, let’s go find Aren.”

  “Okay.” My glee was on a high, my dancing butterflies breaking into a frenzy as I walked out of my future dressing room and down the corridor to the main club.

  I could hear cheering and whooping then a loud, “Why thank you, boys.” The woman gave a flirty laugh and wolf-whistles ensued.

  My forehead crinkled, my butterflies being eaten alive by my previous niggle.

  “That’s the stage entrance.” Parker pointed to the right. “But tonight, we’re going to hang out in here.”

  He took my hand and pulled me into nothing like the club he’d taken me to on the weekend.

  I walked into a seedy, dark-lit room that gave me the creeps. My panicky gaze flickered around the big space, taking in table after table of men. There were a few women, but not many. The occupants varied in size, shape, and age, but they all had one thing in common—hungry leers on their drooling faces. Every eye in the room was glued to the stage, and my warm buzz evaporated when I saw what they were staring at.

  A woman, looked to be just a little older than me, wearing a sparkly miniskirt and silver tassels on her nipples, was gyrating to the beat of some sexy song I didn’t recognize.

  I heard the words “Kiss you all over” and swallowed.

  Her sexy, husky voice and her body moving that way was hypnotic, but…but all I could see were silver tassels.

  I hoped to God they didn’t think I’d be wearing something like that. What kind of record deal was she hoping for?

  I couldn’t hide behind a smile that time.

  Parker glanced over his shoulder at me and did a double-take.

  “What’s the matter?” He leaned forward to yell in my ear, as that was the only way he could be heard over the thumping beat.

  “This is not at all like the club you took me to on the weekend. This is no Helium!”

  “It’s not that different.” His reply was sharp and had a snap to it that told me not to argue. “Come on, let’s go.” He tipped his head and pulled me through the crowd.

  Eyes tracked me as I trailed behind Parker, and I turned to give out a few scowls. The fat one in the business suit two sizes too small chuckled at me and wiggled his eyebrows, rolling the cigar in his fingers as his gaze went straight to my ass.

  I picked up my pace, nearly crashing into Parker as he stopped at a round booth table in the upper corner of the room.

  “Aren!” He let my hand go, spreading his arms wide before ushering me forward.

  Trying to smile was impossible. All I could think about was Josh, Clark’s Bar, Duke. In other words—comfort, warmth, safety.

  “Good evening, Rachel.” Aren’s smile was charming as he stood from his seat and extended his hand. “Come, sit.”

  I took his hand. His fingers were sweaty and hot, as if he’d been sitting on them or something. As soon as I’d climbed the two stairs and was seated, I slipped my fingers out of his grasp.

  “Welcome to Club Liberation!” he bawled into my ear.

  Forcing a grin was an effort, but I managed. It was a tight, noncommittal one, but at least it was something. Aren’s probing gaze made me uncomfortable.

  “So, I’m excited you chose to sign the contract. It’s official now. You’re one of my girls. We’ll start training tomorrow.”

  I pointed at the stage, faking a bright laugh. “I’m not going to be one of those girls though, right? You signed me for my country voice and charm.” I thickened my accent, really trying to sell it.

  His leering smile and narrowing gaze slashed at my hope—the back of his finger running down my arm didn’t help much either. “You’re going to be whatever I want you to be.”

  I flinched at his dark tone, my face hardening as I stared at him. “I didn’t sign up for that.” Damn that my finger shook when I pointed at the stage again.

  Aren’s sigh was so short I nearly missed it, but then his lips pressed against my ear. “I think you’ll find that you signed up to let me guide and coach you. That contract states that you will take my advice on performance, song selection, and clothing. If I think I can sell you as a tassel-wearing temptress, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “I’m not doing that,” I muttered.

  “Yes, Rachel, you are, because I have your name in ink.”

  His words were a kick to the guts. My eyes stung with fire as I blinked, looking back to the stage as Miss Sexy took a bow and twirled her tassels one last time before skipping off.

  The hollers and cheers following her made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t mean to sign up for that.

  I didn’t mean—

  Shit!

  What the hell was I going to do?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rachel

  I sat like a stiff-legged statue for the rest of the night, panic coursing through me. I had to get out of that contract. Sure, I’d signed, but those kinds of things were broken all the time, right?

  It hurt my heart to think I’d come so close only to fail, but I couldn’t make myself go up on a stage and do that. Josh would be horrified, and I’d hate myself forever. I didn’t get saved from the gutter only to throw myself into a new one.

  Having the conversation in a deafening nightclub was pointless. I had to wait until the morning. When dawn came, I could say my piece and head on back to Payton. The very idea reeked of humiliation, but Josh would forgive me. He always did eventually.

  At midnight, Parker offered to walk me back to my apartment. I jumped at the chance. After suffering nearly four hours of bikini-clad betties strutting the stage, I’d had my fill. I was nauseous with the very idea of having to do something like that.

  Parker held my hand as we stepped out into the dark street. I tried to wiggle free, but his grip only tightened.

  “You have a good night?”

  “Of course,” I lied.

  It was not the time to complain. I had to perfect my speech, pick my moment. I didn’t want to make them angry. I had to come up with a nice, easy explanation for my change of heart. Fingers crossed I could pitch it just right and they’d tell me they understood and then send me on my way. I had enough money to buy a bus ticket to Payton. I’d have to head straight back. I didn’t have the money to stay in LA, and
I wasn’t about to ask Parker to look for any more jobs for me.

  He held open the building door.

  “Thanks, Parker. I can make my way from here.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll walk you up.”

  I turned away to hide my eye roll. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk and evening chatter. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I strode ahead of him down the corridor and pulled the key out of my purse.

  He caught up to me easily and placed his hand on my lower back. “I’ll be here by nine tomorrow morning.”

  “What for?” I kept my head down, focusing on the lock.

  “You’re booked for a photo shoot tomorrow. We want to get some publicity shots organized so that we’re ready to go as soon as you are.”

  “Right.” My head bobbed way too fast. Hopefully he didn’t notice.

  “Don’t be nervous. You’re going to fit right in at Club Liberation, and I’ll spend this week putting together a nice promo package for you. Kind of like a résumé with professional headshots. I’m going to make you look so good people will be begging to sign you.”

  I couldn’t help turning with a huff. “I thought you wanted a wholesome country girl, not some slut like was up on the stage tonight.”

  Parker snickered, stepping into my personal space and sliding his hand around to my hip. “With a body like this, we can turn you into both. The men are gonna love you.” He leaned forward, his fat mouth aiming for mine.

  My eyes bulged, my head pulling back so fast I whacked it on the door. “What are you doing?” I pushed at his chest.

  “Sorry.” He took his sweet time stepping away, a cocky smile on his lips. “I thought I felt something.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  He raised his hands and backed off. “Maybe I can make you change your mind.” He winked.

  “I don’t think so.” I wrestled my door open and slammed it shut behind me, leaning against the wood and fighting for air.

  Oh my Lord, I couldn’t handle that, too.

  Josh would die if he knew Parker had tried to kiss me.

  “I can’t believe you let him do that, Rachel.”

  “Colby was only having a little fun! You know what he’s like. It didn’t mean nothin’!”

  Josh grunted, the broom in his hand moving so fast, I thought the dust at our feet would turn into a hurricane.

  “I was trying to be friendly. He’s a customer! We were just dancing.”

  “Dancing,” Josh grumbled. “He nearly kissed you!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Come on, honey, he was pecking my cheek! You know it wouldn’t have meant anything. He’s completely in love with Doris what’s-her-name.”

  “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you when he was touching you.”

  “You don’t like the way anyone looks at me, you jealous old hog!”

  His razor glare could have stripped paint. I met it head-on, crossing my arms and sticking out my chin.

  He let out an irate snort, throwing the broom toward the kitchen before spinning away from me and stomping up the stairs.

  With a heavy sigh, I trotted up behind him.

  “Leave me alone,” he shot over his shoulder.

  “You’re being ridiculous!” I followed him into our bedroom, trying to hold my tongue while he jumped around the room, yanking off his boots.

  My guitar was sitting in the corner behind him. If anything could butter him up, it’d be a sweet melody from me, so I brushed right past him as he hopped around and found myself a spot on the edge of the bed.

  The perfect song rested on my lips, and I strummed the first chord of “Trust Me” with a smile.

  Josh’s furious undressing routine slowed in pace, but he still wouldn’t look at me. I kept singing to him anyway. I meant every word coming out of my mouth. I was in love with him; I had been for months. We’d been sleeping together for a while, and I’d whispered the words in the heat of passion, but I’d never outright said them straight to his face, let alone sung them.

  I was halfway through the second chorus by the time he was naked, and rather than plucking the guitar from my hands and laying me down on the bed, he damn well walked out of the room.

  A string of curses swept out of my mouth, cutting my song short. I laid down my guitar and stomped into the bathroom. The hot shower spray was beginning to steam up the room, and I saw a flash of Josh’s tight behind before he flicked the curtain closed.

  With a huff, I snatched the material and flung it back.

  “You are as stubborn as mule, Joshua Clark!” My fists landed on my hips.

  “Get out and let me shower in peace,” he yelled straight in my face before flicking the curtain between us.

  My eyes narrowed to tight, determined slits and I ripped off my shirt and jeans, kicking my pile of clothes toward the toilet before stepping in behind him.

  “I’m sorry if me dancing with Colby made you uncomfortable. I know you don’t like that kind of thing, and I should have respected that, but you have to forgive me, and I ain’t leaving your side until you do.”

  Josh whipped around to face me, a deep scowl marring his perfect features. Flicking his wet locks out of his face, he licked the water off his lips and glared at me. “I do not have to forgive you.”

  “Yes, you do!” I felt small beside his bulky, hard body, but I raised my chin anyway.

  “And why is that?”

  “Because we’re in love with each other and that’s what couples do. They fight, they forgive, they make out, and they get over it!”

  His eyes narrowed, his expression pinching tight for a second. “You love me?”

  Pointing behind me with an exasperated eye roll, I hollered at him, “I just sang you a song saying I did. I haven’t changed my mind in the last five minutes.”

  “Say it.” His demand was short and terse, but it still made a smile jump onto my lips.

  I placed my hand on his hips, just above that dang triangle that turned muscles into marshmallows. “I love you.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I love you. I love all of you, including that stupid, jealous head on your shoulders and that great big heart in there.” I tapped his chiseled chest before gazing down at his erection. With a grin, I wrapped my fingers around it. “This ain’t bad either.”

  His eyes rolled north, and he tried to hamper that sweet groan he made whenever I touched him, but he couldn’t do it. I still heard that faint sigh.

  A triumphant smile kissed my lips. “Say you forgive me, Josh.”

  “I ain’t ready.” He practically squeaked the words, giving away his big, fat lie.

  I squeezed him tighter, yanking hard and purring, “You ready now?”

  His large hands landed on my head as if he needed help to stand, my furious stroking making his stomach muscles quiver and jerk.

  “Say it, Joshie,” I sing-songed. “Or I’m getting out right now.”

  He pressed his lips together, another moan rumbling in his throat.

  “Okay, have it your way.” I let him go, flicking his hands off my face and turning to leave.

  I didn’t get very far. Before I’d even finished my swivel, Josh grabbed my arm and turned me back to face him. Plucking me up off the bathtub floor as if I weighed nothing, he pressed me against the wall with just the right power to get my insides dancing.

  My back smacked against those cold tiles, and I couldn’t help a breathy giggle. I wrapped my legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders.

  “I forgive you,” he whispered, planting a hard kiss on my lips. Our hungry tongues wound together, the heat of the kiss rivaling the hot spray pelting our skin. Josh pulled back, his breath sharp and hot on my lips. “I’ll always forgive you.”

  He entered me then, so fast and hard I cried out, tipping my head to the ceiling as my insides did a triple back-flip. His wet lips massacred my neck while he drove into me, pounding me against that bathroom wall and giving me every reason in the world to fight and make
up with him over and over again.

  I gripped the back of his hair, pulling at the thick locks as he took me to that place only Josh could…a special kind of heaven reserved for lovers. The only place you could truly bare your soul and know you were still safe.

  Heat pooled between my legs just thinking about Josh inside of me. An intense ache for him permeated my very core, making my stomach hurt. Snatching my purse, I yanked out my phone and went to dial his number. My thumb hovered over the screen. I’d missed a call from him. I frantically dialed voicemail and pressed the phone to my ear.

  His deep, rich voice made me smile, but my lips soon dipped, my forehead crinkling. His sweet, awkward words had my legs buckling. I sank to the floor, sliding down that dirty door and hitting the hard wood beneath me. His voice petered out quickly and he ended the call.

  “Sweet man,” I whispered, sucking in a shaky breath.

  He was going to support me.

  I shook my head, wriggling on the floor and tugging at the dress. It was so dang short, it couldn’t even cover my butt sitting the way I was.

  With puffy breaths, I tore at the material, struggling to pull it off while not dropping my phone. I bunched it in my hands and threw it across the room before wrapping my arms around my legs. Resting my chin on my knees, I relished my curtain of hair, hiding me from the outside world as I gazed at my phone.

  I couldn’t call him back.

  There was no way he’d support what I’d done. He’d be madder than a mule chewing on bumblebees…and he had every right.

  I was so ashamed.

  “Acting like a damn fool, Rachel Myers!” I scolded myself. Tears near choked me. My dream had become ash before it’d even had a chance to flourish. I’d been gullible and careless, and I wanted to take back my signature with a fury.

  Talk about humiliating.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” I sniffed. “I thought this was it. My lucky break. I should have known it was too good to be true. It was all just too easy, wasn’t it?” I stared up at the ceiling as if Mama was up there gazing down on me. “I can’t do it. I know you said whatever it takes, but this ain’t right. I’m not a show girl, I’m a singer.”

 

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