Savvy chuckles. “Oh no, girls. We’ve pissed her off now. Look at the pouty face.” She purses her lips and makes kissy noises.
“She doesn’t want anyone looking at her man,” Tammy says, grinning.
“I’m sorry,” Mel adds sincerely. “I really didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I did. He’s got abs for days.” Savvy shrugs.
“That’s what happens when you date hot as hell rock gods…just sayin.” Tammy smirks.
I stomp across the room and grab my makeup bag off the kitchen counter before huffing off in the direction of the bedroom. “You’re all bitches,” I huff.
“Don’t forget to put lover boy’s flowers in some water,” Savvy calls out before the three of them burst into laughter.
Did I say I was excited Savvy’s here? I lied.
Blaze
The music at the club is pounding, and when I walk in I have a flashback—bathroom stalls and back hallways, laying out lines on countertops and girls’ bodies, getting high then fucking random groupies in broom closets and photo booths. There’s a reason I haven’t been to a club since I got out of rehab.
But tonight’s not about me, and I’m not going to let my addiction keep me from celebrating with Tully. I have to admit, I was torn between being pissed and being hurt when I found out that she hadn’t told me about her birthday. But then Dez reminded me that this is a very temporary arrangement so she’s not obligated to include me in her celebrations, but if I wanted to do something for her birthday I should quit pouting and go do it.
So I found my balls and took her the flowers. And she looked like my wet fucking dream, standing there in the world’s tiniest, tightest mini skirt, with this transparent black, flowy top on. All layers and ruffles, and spaghetti straps. It was all I could do to keep from devouring her right there in the hotel suite with the Lush wives standing ten feet away.
Now I’m focused on finding her in this gyrating, grinding, pulsing mass. Coming here isn’t easy for me, and I need to see her beautiful smile to get grounded. I brought security with me tonight, because even though it makes me feel like a pussy—a guy my size shouldn’t need other dudes to protect him—I want to be able to focus on Tully and not have women all over me. Not being vain, just realistic. When you’re in a rock band and you go out clubbing, there will be women all over you like bees to honey.
“You looking for Tully?” a voice over my shoulder says. I turn to find Walsh Clark leaning against a wall, sipping on what looks to be orange juice.
I step closer so I don’t have to yell quite so loudly. “Yeah, you seen her?”
He tips his glass toward the dance floor, and I swivel to look, amazed when I do that I didn’t notice them right off the bat. Walsh and I are standing three steps higher than the dance floor, so we can see over people’s heads easily. There in the center of the dance floor are Tully, Tammy, Mel, and Tully’s sister, and all four of them are dancing up a storm, while surrounded by a wall of burly security guys. I’m not kidding, no one can get anywhere near those girls. The security team has created a circle, facing out to look at the crowd, and the girls are dancing the night away inside the bubble.
“Wow,” I say looking back to Walsh. “Paranoid, much?”
He chuckles and takes a sip of his drink. “Not me, man. Joss. Mel is pregnant, and he said that if anyone bumped into her bump he’d have to kill them, so that’s all in the name of keeping our lead singer out of jail.”
I nod. Yeah, I can get that, a pregnant belly in the middle of all that is bound to get some elbow and hip checks. Most women would just forgo the dancing at that stage—I guess when your husband’s a superstar rock singer with a full security team on staff you don’t have to.
“Where is Joss?” I ask.
Walsh tips his head upstairs. “He can’t stand being mobbed by fans, so he’s hiding out in VIP. I don’t have those problems.” He laughs and I look at my own security guy who I’ve seen turn away at least four girls since I stopped to chat with Walsh.
“So, will your guys let me grab Tully?” I ask.
“Sure. They’ll recognize you.”
“Okay. I think I’ll go say hi. I guess I’ll see you in VIP later.”
He nods, takes another sip of his OJ and relaxes back against the wall, seeming content to watch his woman from a distance.
I make my way to the dance floor, and when I reach the security team the closest guy shakes my hand and steps aside so I can enter the super secret circle. The girls all grin when they see me, but they keep dancing. I finally get a good look at Tully’s sister who grins at me like a maniac. They have the same blue eyes and curly hair, but Tully’s is darker.
Tully gives me a smile as bright as the sunshine as I move to her and put my hands on her hips. I lean down toward her ear. “How’s the birthday girl?” I ask, pulling her closer.
She keeps dancing, arms up over her head, body gyrating to the beat. Her skin is glowing, and I’m willing to bet she’s had more than a drink or two, but she’s glorious, all of her seductive energy just bursting out of her.
She looks up at me and says, “The birthday girl is great and she’ll be even better when you dance with her.”
Yeah. I’m not a dancer so much. “How about if I just watch you dance, baby.” I bend my knees to look her in the eyes. Such beautiful blue eyes, they make my gut clench with want.
She wraps her pale, slender arms around my neck. “Nope. You have to dance.” She presses her lips to mine and I can taste the liquor she’s been drinking. A zing runs from my lips straight to my dick, which hardens like clockwork whenever I’m near Tully.
I wrap one arm around her waist and give in—because when it comes to this woman, I always give in— and start to grind as I move one leg between hers and stroke the smooth skin where the hem of her top leaves her midriff bare.
I spear my free hand into her luxurious curls and pull her head back so that I can lick my way up her throat. The beat of the music is bass heavy, and I feel it pulsing through me like blood throbbing in my veins.
She’s got her pussy grinding against my thigh now and I feel her breath on my face, hot and panting. I crave a wall to press her against, or a table to lay her on. She’s so soft and warm, and the urge to be inside of her is growing stronger by the minute—pun entirely intended.
“You feel so good, baby,” I groan as she lifts onto her tiptoes and pulls my earlobe through her teeth.
“So do you.” She gives me that sunshine smile again. “You’ve made me all tame and sweet.” Now I know she’s drunk. Sober Tully would never admit to being tamed.
I laugh. “Baby, don’t you worry, you’re still a fucking handful. If Joss hadn’t put all of these security guys around you I know I would have had to bash some heads when I got here tonight. You’re trouble all wrapped up in a tight little package.”
“I don’t want to be a handful you know.”
I watch her, emotions playing across her face while I wait for whatever piece of her insides she wants to entrust to me. I make a silent promise to keep them safe.
“All I’ve ever wanted was to fit in, you know? At some point I realized that with my family I never would.” She pauses, then visibly brightens. “But with Lush I do. For the first time, Blaze. I fit somewhere. It hasn’t been overnight, but I feel like I’ve found a home with those guys. It feels good.” She sighs and lays her head on my shoulder. “Really good.”
I stroke her back and murmur things in her ear. “I’m happy for you, short stack. Really happy.”
We dance a while longer, then she says she’s tired and wants to go sit down. I keep an arm around her waist as we go upstairs to the VIP section, wondering how much longer she’s gong to last. She’s tiny, and my guess is it didn’t take much alcohol to put her three sheets to the wind.
Once we get upstairs, I find Joss and Colin sitting at a semi-circle booth with a low table in the center. We exchange pleasantries and Walsh joins us soon too. People come and go, Tully
has another drink, but sips it, and I get her to eat something too, hoping to keep her from ending up sick. I’m finally formally introduced to her sister, who says Tully holds her liquor pretty well, but I don’t want to take any chances. Takes all the fun out of a birthday if you spend the last few hours of it puking.
We all dance a couple more times, and Mel even convinces Joss to come out for a few minutes. I get what he’s talking about though. Even Garrett doesn’t attract as much attention as Joss. He’s like some sort of magnet for female eyes. The minute he strides onto the dance floor, towing Mel behind him, the sea of people sort of parts, and women’s eyes light up. It’s the craziest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
It’s after midnight when Tully and I find ourselves back at the table. She’s got her legs draped across my lap, and her head on my shoulder. I’m thinking she doesn’t have much more in her, but I’m good to sit here and sip my soda while I watch the goings on around us. Behind the booth is a screen that separates this section from the hallway back to the bathrooms. The whole club has an East Indian theme, and the screen is made of some sort of very light pierced wood, about six feet high. Purely for effect, not to really provide any sort of privacy.
“Were you able to talk to Dave about that reporter who called?” I hear Joss say on the other side of the flimsy partition.
“Yes,” Tammy’s voice answers quietly. I turn my head to the side slightly so my ear is virtually against the screen behind me. “He’s checking it out but it sounds like someone has offered to pay a former roadie for the exclusive story.”
“How the fuck would a roadie even know?” Joss hisses.
“I have no idea, but if Walsh and Mel hear about this they’re going to flip.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he asks. “Christ, Mel’s fucking pregnant, Tam, I cannot have her upset right now. And I don’t even want to think about what the reminder would do to Walsh. He and I have never been better—not even before.”
My heart races and I swallow, glancing down at Tully who I think has finally crashed. She doesn’t seem to be hearing any of this, her face is buried in my chest, and her breathing is soft and rhythmic.
“Dave promised he’ll take care of it, I guess we just have to wait and see what he finds out.”
“Okay, but we need to come to an agreement about when we’d tell them if he can’t fix it.”
I hear someone else say, “Excuse me,” and then Joss clears his throat. “I need to find Mel,” he says, louder this time. “We’ll talk more later.”
“Great. I’m ready to go anyway.”
The two of them walk out from behind the screen a few feet past our table and keep going to the staircase that leads to the dance floor. They never look back to see me sitting there. They have no idea I heard them. And while I may not know exactly what I just heard, I can hazard a guess, and it’s not looking stellar for Lush’s squeaky clean image.
Tully stirs and mumbles something in her stupor. My heart beats double time. A niggling doubt weaves its way through my soul, whispering about betrayals and friendship and even something like love, but I steel myself against the invasive guilt. I’m not going to hurt Lush or Tully in any permanent way, just enough to ensure they don’t get the Super Bowl gig this year. They’ve weathered far worse than a few rumors about their family-friendliness. They’ll come out fine.
That’s what I tell myself as I stand and lift Tully in my arms as she keeps sleeping. I pass her sister on my way downstairs to the limo.
“Will the rest of the guys help you get home safe?” I ask her as she laughs at her sister folded in my arms.
She leans over and kisses Tully’s cheek. Tully mutters and slaps at Savannah half-heartedly.
“Yes, Colin’s chaperoning me, and we’re leaving soon.”
“I was going to take Tully back to my suite if that’s okay,” I say.
Savannah cocks her head and purses her lips as she inspects me. “She says you’ve been good to her.”
“I’ve tried to be.”
“You can take her to your suite. But tell her to call me first thing in the morning. My flight back home leaves at noon.”
“Will do.”
“You’re a nice guy, Blaze Davis,” Savvy says before giving me a kiss on the cheek as well.
No, I’m not, I think as I leave the club and slide into the back of the car with Tully on my lap. Nice guys finish last, and I always win.
“Oh God,” Tully moans as I brush my lips along the line of her shoulder. “My head,” she gasps.
I stop and chuckle, smoothing a hand over her hair. “Poor baby, is it bad?”
“I feel like I rammed my head into a brick wall.”
I stand from where I’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed. “Luckily I’m an expert in the morning after,” I tell her before I go into the next room and grab the rolling cart full of breakfast goodness.
I pull her up to sit and fluff the pillows behind her head.
“I must look like hell,” she mumbles.
“You look sexy as fuck, and if you weren’t hung over I’d have my head in between your legs, but for now I’ll have to be satisfied watching you eat.”
After some OJ, a few slices of bacon and a giant buttermilk biscuit I dose my girl up with ibuprofen and crawl back in bed with her.
“Now, are you feeling better?”
“A little,” she admits.
I run a hand underneath the covers until I find her smooth thigh. She squeaks.
“You still have one more ingredient before your hangover remedy is complete.”
I skate my fingers along the elastic line of her panties.
“What’s that?” she asks starting to sound breathless.
“A nice…” I kiss her neck and slide my finger under the waistband of those silky panties. “Long…” I lick the top of her tit and move my finger to her seam, sliding it through her hot slickness. “Orgasm.”
“Oh yeah,” she gasps. “I definitely need that part.” We spend the next two hours making sure that Tully’s post-birthday recovery ends in bliss—over and over and over. When we finally have to get out of bed to take her sister to the airport and get back to work, my chest is full of her. Every gasp, every sigh, every tiny expression of delight that I gave her. She’s working her way so deep into my soul that I’m not sure I’ll be able to let her go when the time comes.
I’ve just admitted to Dez that I hired a PI to dig up dirt on Lush and he’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him. Dez doesn’t really get angry, but I have seen it happen a couple of times. Once when some asshole mugged our manager, Shannon, and a second time when a producer we were working with made a really tasteless homophobic joke. It takes a lot to get my boy riled, but I’ve managed to do it this evening, and I don’t have the slightest idea how to get him to calm down and see reason.
“Dude, it’s business. You know that. As much as we all love to play the music, this is still a business, and the business that is Rhapsody needs this.”
He slaps a hand against the door of his suite where we were having a drink together—him beer, me soda—and talking over the next few months of band business.
“That’s a fucking load of crap, Blaze, and you know it. How the hell can you even contemplate something like this? What is it you think this PI is going to find?”
So far I’ve managed to hold on to my cool because I’ve felt certain that once I explain it all he’ll come around, but nothing is working, and I’m losing my patience.
“I don’t know exactly what the PI will find, but I know there’s something there. Something that will clench it for us. Look, you’ve said you want to get that Super Bowl slot, we all want it. And you’ve also admitted that Lush is a hell of an opponent. How exactly did you think we were going to beat them? By being prettier?”
“Fuck you.” He flips me off.
“Dez, come on…”
“No, Blaze, you come on. You’ve been fucking Tully for weeks. Treating her like she’s
your goddamn girlfriend, staying all night in her bed. They put their trust in you, man. She put her trust in you. How the hell can you turn around and do this? All over a fucking gig? What the hell is the matter with you?”
My blood pressure rises. “It’s not a fucking gig,” I grind out. “It’s the fucking gig. Of our lifetimes. It’s the only gig.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” His voice is quieter now, and he’s staring at me incredulous. “Do you hate him that much? I knew it was a problem, but I didn’t realize it was this bad. It’s like you’ve got poison swirling around in your heart. You would fuck over this woman who you’re in love with, humiliate a bunch of perfectly decent guys, go against my wishes, all just to beat him? Is your hate so great that you can’t see the love standing right in front of you?”
My throat nearly closes shut and I stare at him, my jaw clenching painfully. “I never said I was in love with her.” My voice is hoarse, like the grinding of gravel in a driveway.
Dez looks at me, his face washed in pity. “Come on, man,” he says softly.
I snap. Because I don’t have to stand here and take this. I don’t need him to tell me who I am, who Tully is to me, the meaning of right and wrong. If he can’t see that the ends justify the means then fuck him.
“Fuck you,” I hiss as I stride to the door.
“Blaze.”
“Go to hell, Dez. You don’t know shit—about me, about him, about Tully.” I swing around, pressing my fist into his breastbone. He doesn’t move, his sad eyes never wavering from mine.
“I’m sorry you think so little of me that you can’t see I have this under control, but that’s not my problem. I’ll do the dirty work—as usual—so that we can seal our destiny as legends in this business. And when you’re bathing in your millions, with your supportive, loving family by your side, and your pristine conscious, you can call me up and thank me for doing the shit that you couldn’t be dirtied with.”
The door slams so hard when I walk out that the walls up and down the hall shake and a couple of the other guests on the floor stick their heads out to see what the commotion is. They take one look at me and duck back into their rooms fast though because I look like what I am right now—the big, bad, devil who crushes people under my feet as I climb my way to the only place that matters. The fucking Super Bowl.
A Lush Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel Page 17