by Riley Love
The blazing sun was a shock when we left the cabin. Six brightly colored bungalows were grouped closely together, right on the beach. Fuchsia flowering bushes guarded each doorway, and palm fronds swayed gently in the breeze. Paradise.
“I’m actually bringing you to my bungalow,” Casey said as she pulled my suitcase along the wooden walkway. “You just came from the studio, and the guys each have their own bungalow. When they come together, they either make magic or threaten each other’s lives. You never know what you’re going to get.”
“We’re roommates?” Maybe it was a good thing Katie didn’t come after all. The bungalows didn’t look very big.
“Not exactly.” The last word ended on a high note, like Casey wasn’t good at full disclosure. “Once we invited you and your friend down for the weekend, I made plans to go back to Miami and meet with some industry executives. We need to make plans for pushing the album once it’s done. Believe me, I’d rather stay here with you.”
“It’s just me and the guys? All weekend?” The tingles inside me were a mixture of excitement and fear.
Casey stopped before she opened the door. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
I hadn’t thought about what I’d wanted in a long time. I thought about saying no and asking her to stay. Not exactly to be my wing woman, but it would’ve been nice to have someone here to break the ice between the band and me. In my brief conversations so far with the guys, I’d barely been able to utter a fully formed sentence. This weekend could be an epic disaster because I was too freaking star struck to do half the things the heroine in my stories suggested.
They called me by my screen name. They’d read my stories. Holy shit.
“They’re great guys. I wouldn’t leave you here alone with them if I thought there would be a problem. I’ll leave you my phone number. We have security in place to protect the guys, but that extends to you while you’re here, Alina.” She opened the door to her bungalow to punctuate her statement. “Everything you need is at the resort. A chef comes at night to cook for the guys, and his people make sure we’re fully stocked for the rest of the day. The Wi-Fi password is on the desk, and we’re streaming everything that can possibly be streamed. But you’re on a gorgeous beach, and I bet you won’t even touch your computer while you’re here.”
The room felt huge, thanks to the vaulted, thatched ceiling. A fluffy, all-white bed took up most of the room, and a white chaise lounge was near the window, overlooking the beach. I was drawn to it; the turquoise water and white sand were ridiculously perfect, and like everything else here, I was having a hard time believing it was real.
Casey put her hand on my back. “Will you be okay if I go?”
I nodded. “I’m not always this much of a mess.”
“You’re not a mess at all.” She gave me a quick, awkward hug. “The chef has dinner ready every night at eight. I’ll tell the guys to give you some space until then. They’ve got enough to keep them busy for the next few hours. I’ll be playing the song they’re working on today for the label tomorrow. No pressure or anything. If I were you, I’d open the window, peel off those heavy clothes, and take a nap.”
“That sounds like a great idea.” And a perfect way to kick off a vacation. “Is there ever anyone else on the beach?”
She shook her head. “Just you and the guys until the chef shows up.”
Just me and Jupiter in Blue. Nope, I wouldn’t freak out. “Okay.”
“Have a great weekend, Alina. Remember, anything you want while you’re here is yours.” She stopped before she opened the door and turned back to me. “Anything.”
Even the shower was magical. It was right outside the bungalow, with nothing but scandalous open sky above me. As the last of Cleveland washed away, I got braver. And now, I couldn’t tear myself away from that window that overlooked the beach. Wearing nothing but a towel, I pushed the panes open, grabbed the Wi-Fi password and my laptop, settled in on the chaise, and went to work.
Nothing like being face to face with my idols to have inspiration hit me in the face. My claim to fame in the fanfic world was one long story delivered in installments like a soap opera. Storylines ended, but my fictional universe went on indefinitely. I’d started writing the stories for myself, to let my own fantasies run wild, and posted them on a whim, never expecting another person to want to read them. I’d been so wrong. Since the first post, I’d had millions of reads, which now included the members of Jupiter in Blue.
In my story, the band had a muse named LinaLu. I deserved the right to star in my own fantasy. Whenever the guys needed inspiration, they went to Lina, and she gave it to them, usually by making them get naked and worship her. Serving Lina always gave them the answers they needed.
It had been weeks since I’d posted a new installment. Mom suffered a few setbacks lately, and most nights I fell in bed, too exhausted for coherent thought.
Mom. Shit. I never called my sister to let her know I’d arrived. Or to check in. I didn’t forget about her, but this didn’t exactly feel like my real life.
I’m here, I texted. Everything okay there?
Yeah. Anita surprisingly got back to me right away. Just chaotic. Don’t worry about us. Have the best time.
I will.
Sun streamed in through the open window, but that wasn’t what made me burn. I read over the latest installment of my story. The call had come in about the trip when I wrote it, and my excitement showed. In the story, the band struggled with writer’s block. The notes of each song were bent, broken, and backward, and the band came to Lina to fix it. She took her time with each member, listening to their problems and then bringing them to climax.
My breath caught in my throat. Everyone had made it clear that the guys were aware of my stories. But why did they invite me here? I was far from a journalist. I didn’t consider myself a professional writer. I didn’t bother with editing, and my readers would message me if they found any typos. It was pure emotion pouring onto the page. Maybe the band thought I could capture some of that excitement in my account of the weekend. When Casey got back, I’d ask her what she expected.
But right now, I was writing, and it felt good. Music slipped into my bungalow. Like my stories, it wasn’t perfect. The guys were learning as they went too. I’d opened a new document and imagined myself—I meant LinaLu—standing outside the studio. She didn’t like what she heard, and the band was shocked. She was hard on them often, not to be a bitch but because she wanted them to bring their absolute best work into the world.
My towel slipped away from my body as I typed. My own nakedness startled me. Alina and LinaLu were light years apart when it came to how comfortable they were with their own bodies. The hasty knot I’d fastened when I’d stepped out of the shower didn’t even last until the end of the next sentence.
Fuck it. It was time for my real life to start mirroring my online persona. LinaLu would totally sunbathe naked. This was my chance to live my fantasies.
In the story, LinaLu brought recording to a screeching halt. The band hated displeasing her and would do anything to make it up to her. Todd fell to his knees in front of Lina, placing his hand on her calf. I closed my eyes, my exposed pussy tingling as I pictured the scene. Lina wore a bathing suit—of course, she had a bikini body—and only had a sarong covering the rest.
I ran my hand over my bare body, imagining the path that Todd would take as he tried to please Lina. My breathing was ragged, and as I opened my heavy-lidded eyes, I was surprised that I didn’t leave sparks in my wake. I was so turned on for the first time in a long time, so free.
I put the computer aside. For inspiration, of course. I imagined Todd’s voice in my head, his rough warm hands roaming over Lina’s body. I imagined him to be a boob guy. I palmed my heavy breast and pinched the nipple until it hardened into a tight nub.
“Alina?” Holy shit. That was Todd. Not in my imagination. He stood in the doorway of my bungalow, clutching the doorknob.
I jumped, gr
abbing for the towel. I was somewhere between fantasy and a reality I wasn’t familiar with. The damn towel wasn’t cooperating, and it was much easier to cover myself with my arms.
It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize. Judging by the way Todd’s gazed lured me in with an entirely different kind of heat—one full of reverence and desire—he wasn’t sorry he’d found me like that.
He could’ve closed the door and walked away. But he didn’t. He wanted me to know I was caught.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous.” His voice was low, and I wasn’t sure if he meant for me to hear that. He shook his head, like he was coming back from his own daydream.
I could’ve invited him over and asked him to finish the job. To run his hands all over my body and dip his fingers into my hot, slick folds so he could see how ready I was for him. For more. That’s what LinaLu would’ve done. But Alina had to spend the entire weekend with this man, and it could make things extremely awkward if he shot me down.
Todd cleared his throat. “I did knock. I came over to let you know we finished early and we wanted to invite you to have a drink with us before dinner.”
I nodded. A drink was either the best or worst idea ever. “Sounds good.”
“We meet up on the other side of the studio. I’m sure you’ll hear us before you see us.” Todd’s gaze had yet to leave my body. “And Alina?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.” He turned and closed the door behind him.
Chapter Three
Laughter rang out through the courtyard area, and I proceeded with caution. Todd had definitely liked what he’d seen, but now he had a secret that was far too good to keep to himself. I threw my shoulders back, steeling myself as I joined the guys. They didn’t know shy Alina, and this weekend, I could be LinaLu, the woman they’d invited to St. Croix. All I had to do was pull it off.
Piece of cake. Now where were those drinks?
The laughter died down when I rounded the corner, like the joke wasn’t meant for me. I had to stop freaking out. So what? Todd from Jupiter in Blue saw you naked. He’s seen hundreds of women naked, and he liked what he saw. Relax.
“If it isn’t the most beautiful woman on the island.” Hunter rose from his chair and kissed my cheek. He kept his hand on my back as he pulled out the chair next to him for me to sit. “What’s your pleasure?”
Me, naked over your knee as you spank the hell out of my ass. I startled, realizing he was talking about drinks. “Rosé is good.”
Zach poured heavy and handed me a full glass. These guys were nothing if not honest. The chilled wine went down way too easily, and I was not complaining.
“How’s recording going?” I asked. So far, I’d spent most of my time in Jupiter in Blue’s presence staring dumbfounded into space. Even if my voice shook, I had to make an attempt at conversation. “From what I could hear, it sounded really good. Different.”
Slow smiles spread across the face of each band member.
“You liked it, huh?” Todd asked. His gaze had that same heavy-lidded reverence as it did back in my bungalow, and I didn’t think he was talking about music.
What would LinaLu do?
“I loved it.” Another sip of wine would go a long way toward bolstering my bravado.
“That’s one of the reasons we invited you down here,” Blake said. He leaned forward, and his hands knotted in front of him on the table. “The record label is scared shitless of what we’re doing. But we’re not interested in doing a nostalgia tour. The plan was always to take the deal, do the music that the label wanted us to do in hopes that we could our own thing later. That’s what we’re doing.”
“I loved the old stuff too, obviously.” I’d be happy if the band read the dictionary out loud. But not every fan was as easy to please.
“We’re proud of the band, but no one wants to see a bunch of guys in their thirties lip syncing to someone else’s songs. We have our own story to tell.” Hunter picked up the wine bottle and topped off my glass as the chef arrived. I’d have to pace myself, or I wouldn’t be getting out of bed tomorrow morning.
Against my better judgment, I took another healthy swig of wine. I could do the right thing another time, like when I got back to Cleveland. “I’m glad I get to be a part of it.”
“When did you start writing?” Todd asked.
“I’ve always written.” And no one had ever asked me about it before. “My best friend, the one that was supposed to come with me, used to write stories with me to entertain ourselves. But she lost interest, and I kept going.”
Katie and I hadn’t written together since we were teenagers. She was the only one in my real life who even knew about my writing. When I’d told her how I’d “won” the trip, she seemed more embarrassed than supportive to learn I was still doing that. I wasn’t ashamed. My writing was good enough for a free trip to the Caribbean with my favorite band.
Blake nodded. “What made you want to write about us?”
Instead of signing up for a dating site and having sex with a real man, as Katie had casually mentioned. Since Mom got sick, I didn’t have the energy for dating. I missed it, even the awkward conversations and the awful mismatches. As fucked up as some of those interactions were, they made me feel normal. Like I could be part of the conversation when I went out with friends. Like I ever went out anymore.
Still, it didn’t make it easy to talk about my inspiration to my muses. “It was something fun. The original stories weren’t sexy—they were funny situations with you guys and our friends. But when Katie stopped writing, I created LinaLu. I like to think of her as my brave, badass other half. She’s not afraid to ask for anything. She gets what she wants.”
She was adored and appreciated. That was the best part. Not the sex, but the love.
Hunter’s hand was on my back again. I’d worn a halter dress, and his touch was warm against my bare skin in the twilight. The island gave the day a color-drenched kiss goodbye, and inspiration was everywhere.
His lips were near my ear. “What are you afraid of, Alina?”
I finished off the rest of my rosé in one gulp. A server put a plate of salad down in front of me, jolting me back from the daydream where I became my alter ego, and I wasn’t afraid of fucking anything.
The salad was the distraction I needed. Jose, the chef, definitely had no fear. His personality was bigger than all five of us put together, and his food was delicious. I didn’t stop laughing until the main course was delivered. After we all took our first mouthwatering bite of conch ceviche, Jose left us with a bow.
“Are you dating anyone, Alina?” Zach asked.
I hated this question because it was always followed by that look. The mix of sadness, concern, and trepidation. After all, what the fuck was wrong with me that I was thirty, single, unemployed, and living with my mother? I’d learned to combat all those emotions in my answer. “No. I moved home to take care of my mom. She has Alzheimer’s and needs someone to be with her twenty-four seven.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Zach squeezed my hand, and Hunter’s hand fell from my back to my leg. “Who’s taking care of her now?”
“My sister.” As much as I wanted to look at my phone and check for any updates, the break was nice.
Todd furrowed his brow. “Why doesn’t she always help you?”
“She’s got kids. I’ve got an older brother too. He lives in Cincinnati and doesn’t get home much.” He’d send money if I asked for it. But otherwise, he always asked me what I expected him to do about it. There was no fixing Mom, but we could help her. I would think my siblings would want to be there in these last moments before she totally forgot who they were. So it wouldn’t be as jarring when they finally did come. But that was the tradeoff. They got to build their lives, and I kept Mom’s from falling apart.
The guys frowned, shaking their heads, too polite to call bullshit on the reasoning.
“I’d lost my job and decided to move home and sort things out. That’s when things started g
etting bad. Eventually, Mom will have to go into an assisted living facility. But I’m glad I have the chance to be there now. I hope when it’s my turn, someone will take care of me too.”
“Everyone should have someone like you in their life.” Zach ran his thumb along the side of my hand.
This was what always happened when I told people about Mom. There was an awkward silence when everyone inevitably thought about their own mortality.
Another glass of wine had been poured, and the glass landed a little too hard on the table as I took the final sip. The effects of it were starting to kick in. “How much of my fanfiction have you read?”
An electric current passed over the table, brightening the faces of Jupiter in Blue.
“All of it.” The way Blake said it with his accent, that long, soft a, made it sound like so much more than it was.
So much dirtier.
“All of it?” Damn it, I needed more wine. I let my freak flag fly in some of those stories. No holds barred. Things that I was excited and scared to type because I wasn’t sure if I was going for the shock factor or if I really wanted to try them.
“Every. Single. Episode.” Todd grinned. “Which was why we chose you for this trip.”
My heart pounded, and I was back to the speechless girl who’d met her favorite band hours ago. No. Fuck that. Jupiter in Blue wanted LinaLu. I’d give them LinaLu.
“What was your favorite part?” I asked. I crossed my legs, squeezing my thighs together. My pussy pulsed like a drumbeat. This was so fucking hot.
Hunter squeezed my leg, and it sent that pulsing into overdrive. He had to know. If I’d had a little bit more wine, I’d casually drop my hand into his lap and see if he was on the same wavelength.
Holy shit. This was life as Lina. What Would Lina Do? would be my motto for the rest of this trip. Lina would fuck the shit out of every single one of these guys. And then tell them to do her again, only better this time. And then she’d write about it.