Beautiful Devil: The Rockstar Duet (Book 1)

by Sharlyn G. Branson

  My nails sank into the skin on his back. “I don’t want you to control yourself. I want you to give me everything you’ve got—no holding back.”

  Our teeth clashed when Ryan leaned in and started to kiss me as if he couldn’t get enough of me. His tongue entered my mouth and captured mine in a dance of love. His hands grabbed my ass and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around him, using the door as support for my back. In this pose, I was helpless—he was free to do whatever he wanted to me. But that’s exactly what I wanted. He gave himself like he’d never given himself to another woman.

  Why did the thought of the other women he’d had made me feel jealous?

  I couldn’t hope that we’d build a serious relationship, because neither of us had any experience in that area. But the fact he’d be the man who’d taken my virginity would occupy a piece of my heart, which would always belong to him.

  My folds were still numb from the orgasm when he carefully and slowly inserted the head of his cock inside me. “You’ll most likely feel some pain now,” he murmured and filled me up.

  The pain I experienced was nothing like the frightening descriptions I’d read in books. It was more like a strong burning sensation that gradually abated.

  “Are you okay?” I nodded in reply, because I was unable to speak. “I’ll start to move very lightly. Tell me if it hurts.” Ryan gently pulled out of me and filled me again, moaning in pleasure. “God, you’re so tight and warm.”

  I relaxed and closed my eyes. The sensation of his continuous movements inside me was magical.

  This is why people become stupid in their need for sex. They forget about the world around them, about any restrictions, and simply surrender to the pleasure.

  Oh… Good heavens, it was divine.

  “It’s so good.” My folds were painfully aroused, my nipples were erect, my entire body was begging and screaming for release.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked softly between countless kisses on my neck. He was sucking and biting me, so I’d probably have hickeys the next day, but I didn’t give a damn.

  “It’s amazing… Don’t stop.”

  Ryan increased the tempo. Moaning, he thrust harder and deeper inside me. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, the orgasm erupted inside me, blasting me into an infinite sea of pleasure. I sensed he was following close behind me. His cock trembled inside me and filled me with his cum.

  “Fuck, that was awesome,” he exclaimed, his voice fading. He dug his head into the curve between my neck and shoulder, savoring the gradually passing bliss.

  For years I’d done everything I could to abstain, even though my body had long been ready and hungered for sex. I’d go on dates, but whenever it became serious, I’d run away. I didn’t want to lose my senses by surrendering myself to a man, like my mother had always done. But now I understood that after this night with Ryan, we’d always have a bond. However, at the time, I couldn’t imagine how right my fears would turn out to be.

  The irreversible had happened by my wish and now there was no going back. I was now a woman in the true sense of the word, having touched the magical fire of love, where two souls merge into one.

  Ryan carefully pulled out of me and helped me get up on my feet. I could barely stand on my high heels. My legs were soft like jelly and I felt the now familiar burning in my loins, reminding me that my virginity had been taken.

  “Fuck… Emily.” Ryan’s eyes followed a trickle flowing down the inside of my thigh.

  “Fuck!” he shouted again, this time louder, while running his fingers through his hair. “I forgot to use a fucking condom. Fuck.”

  Isn’t he going to stop repeating that word? It was making me feel even worse.

  “I’ve never before let myself do something so dumb. But this time I definitely fucked up. For fuck’s sake, where did my mind go?”

  Like every horny man, his mind had gone on vacation and his dick had taken over. To be fair, mine wasn’t doing its job properly either, because I hadn’t thought about that at all.

  “I had myself tested before going to New York and know I’m clean. You were a virgin. But the risk of pregnancy remains.”

  Right then, I also felt like screaming ‘fuck’ as loud as I could.

  “Tell me you’re on the pill,” he said, looking pained, like a doomed man who’d be sentenced to death any second now.

  Seeing how sad he was, I replied quickly, “Yes, I am. Don’t worry.” Luckily, I had problems with my period. It didn’t come regularly and the only way I could control it was through pills.

  Ryan breathed a sigh of relief and I decided there was no need to panic. There was no way for me to get pregnant.

  I scanned the room and noticed we were in his office, which was furnished very stylishly, with a desk of solid wood, brown leather chairs and a plasma TV. The only thing giving away that the owner was a rock singer were Blackstone posters and music awards neatly arranged in a glass cabinet.

  Seeing how much he’d achieved, despite being so young, I felt proud and happy that, whatever the future brought us, I’d remember how I’d given my virginity to such an impressive man like Ryan Wilder.

  While my gaze skipped across the numerous awards that the band had won over the years, Ryan went to the bathroom and came back with a wet towel. He kneeled in front of me and began to carefully wipe the remains of our game of love. His lovely gesture touched me deep inside.

  Ryan had secured a place in my heart, but I didn’t realize how powerfully he’d captured my soul.

  9

  Ryan

  In any other circumstances, the process of moving my mother from New York to Miami would’ve seriously got on my nerves, but now my thoughts were occupied by Sweet Miss Delon. With her extremely sexy looks, she instantly caught men’s eyes, but it was her effortless and unaffected behavior that kept their attention. Even the boys from the band wouldn’t stop talking about how cool a chick she was. That was lofty praise indeed, given their high standards when it came to women, which were no lower than mine. But you shouldn’t judge us—we were truly spoiled with so many women to choose from.

  Watching my mother wandering around the house I’d bought her made me feel bad. She’d spent her best years in prison and a psychiatric hospital, and it was all my fault.

  When I killed my father, my mother and I tried to convince the cops the murder had been committed by burglars. The jury didn’t buy our story, so the judge sentenced her to a stretch inside. I wanted to assume responsibility for the murder, but she persuaded me that if I did that, we’d both end up behind bars and I’d never be able to get her out. Being just a child, I believed her.

  The social services sent me to live with a foster family that had no idea how to deal with me. They couldn’t cope with my wild behavior, frequent truancy and the fights I got into when I actually went to school. My soul couldn’t find peace. It was like some horrible demons were always chasing me.

  I signed up for karate lessons to relieve the stress. The training sessions energized me and helped me release the negative emotions pent up inside me and driving me crazy. I turned out to be a natural at martial arts—I got a black belt and won quite a few competitions.

  However, only music made me feel truly at peace.

  I was lucky that people liked my songs and bought millions of my albums. This enabled me to hire the best lawyer in New York, who first got my mother transferred from prison to a psychiatric hospital and eventually secured her complete release.

  The case was retried. The lawyer linked my father to gangsters and drug dealing, and presented my mother as a woman broken by the shock of seeing the murder of her own husband. Her lawyer, Ronald Johnson, was incredibly good at his job, and there was no case he couldn’t win. He was so persuasive that he could make the jury members accept everything he said as the God’s honest truth. The judge declared her safe to be around other people and I assumed the responsibility of taking care of her.

  All that cost me a fortune, but the
re was nothing more important to me than seeing my mother free again.

  “Ryan, you don’t have to spend your money on me and buy me this gorgeous house.” My mother was only forty-five years old and, dressed in a cream silk dress, seemed even younger. Her hair was platinum blonde and cut in the classic Marilyn Monroe style.

  “Mom, I’m not in the mood to argue about that again,” I said, frowning, tired of her stubbornness.

  The house wasn’t particularly big. It had just three bedrooms, living room and kitchen, though the garden was large. When I was small and we were living in our squalid apartment in New York, Susan often spoke of how she dreamed of having a house with a garden, where she’d plant many flowers. After all the pain she’d gone through, it was high time she continued her life without worries for the future.

  I went out on the veranda for a smoke. I needed to calm my nerves, which these days I could control only when I was with Emily. I leaned on the bench, enjoying the light breeze coming from the ocean.

  From inside the house I heard a man’s voice, which drew my attention. I wondered who it could be, since I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. The only person who knew was my manager, Mike Falkers.

  Speaking of the devil, it was precisely him standing in the living room, courting my mother. He’d put on his best pick-up smile, which made his eyes shine like those of a horny teenager.

  “But you’re so young! Ryan can’t really be your son.”

  His words made my eyes roll all the way up at the sky. I wasn’t comfortable with his making advances at my own mother. She deserved to be with a man who’d give her the love she’d never had. Whereas Mike was two years her junior and, as far as I knew, wasn’t the type to get into a serious relationship with anyone. He had a child from his ex-wife. They had separated more than ten years ago. He was very caring toward his son, but only saw women as a way of having a good time.

  You’d say I’m not much better and you’d be right. But I hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since I’d slept with Emily.

  “You’re flattering me, Mr. Falkers.” My mother’s laughter sounded like a young girl’s. I’d never seen her act like that with anyone.

  Damn, they were both at it.

  “Call me Mike, dear. No need to be so formal. How was your flight? I hope there wasn’t much turbulence.”

  “I doubt anyone has ever complained about flying in a private jet, surrounded by all that luxury. I felt like a queen.” Her delicate hands coquettishly fixed her hair, which was held firmly in place by hairspray and didn’t need any smoothing at all.

  As sad as that was, we barely knew each other, at least not as a mother and son. All that because of my father, who’d ruined both our lives. We’d been apart for years. I’d made sure to visit her in prison at least once a month, but that hadn’t been enough.

  “Ryan has filled the fridge with all the essentials. Can I offer you something to drink?” Susan smiled at him sweetly.

  “A beer wouldn’t go amiss. It’s quite hot outside,” he replied, placing his hand on my mother’s waist, whereas I clenched my fists, ready to protect her.

  I managed to restrain myself. After all, my mother wasn’t fifteen; she was mature enough to know what she was doing. She had the right to live her life as she saw fit.

  Still, couldn’t she find someone else, someone who wasn’t an irredeemable womanizer?

  I could no longer hold back and interrupted their flirtations. “What are you doing here, Mike?” My question came out as a growl.

  He regarded me cautiously, trying to gauge my mood, and replied, “My meeting with Steven Ward was postponed to next week, so I decided to drop by and see if you needed any help.”

  Yeah, right… Try pulling the other one. Since he’d seen a picture of my mother, he hadn’t stopped asking about her.

  Mike knew full well I’d made all the necessary arrangements. Susan didn’t have her own furniture, so all she’d had to do was pack her things in a suitcase and get on the plane to Miami with me.

  I decided to warn Susan later about my manager’s countless female conquests. I was sure that until then, she’d have no problems handling someone like Mike Falkers—man who was always ready for sex.

  10

  Emily

  “The lines between your eyebrows have become as deep as the Grand Canyon.” I looked up from my cell phone and stared at Misty in confusion.

  “What?”

  “I’m messing with you. There’s not a single line on your face, but you do seem down. Tell me, how’s your sex life with Ryan going?” She sat next to me on the couch.

  “What sex life?” Travis came out of the kitchen, carrying a plate with a huge sandwich. “Fuck, Emily, don’t tell me you’re sleeping with that asshole.”

  “Who are you calling an asshole?” Misty flung a small cushion at Travis. It hit his shoulder and fell on the floor. “Ryan’s so hot. I wish I were so lucky.”

  Those two couldn’t stand each other. If it weren’t for me, one would’ve killed the other by now.

  Meteors seemed to fly out of my roomie’s eyes. “You don’t actually think you’re hotter, do you?”

  Travis kicked the nearest stool in frustration. “Shut the hell up, Misty. I may not have his millions, but I wouldn’t use her only to satisfy my carnal needs.”

  She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. “Are you trying to say you’re any different? Did you call that girl you chatted up in the bar? No. You fucked her and now you probably don’t even remember her name.”

  I definitely had to step in. “Will the two of you just cut it out? Your constant arguments are giving me a headache.”

  Sometimes I wondered whether my girlfriend secretly liked Travis and always bickered with him because he didn’t see her in the way she wanted to be seen. I wasn’t certain in my suspicions, but couldn’t interpret her cantankerous demeanor in any other way. I always got the impression she was being jealous.

  Travis threw the cushion back on the couch. “Women… I’ll never be able to understand you. One saves herself for years to end up with the most unsuitable man possible, whereas the other doesn’t let me utter a word, immediately starting to nag me like some harpy. I can’t deal with you two. I’m going to the gym.”

  “Don’t be mad, Trav. You know we love you,” I shouted after him, but instead of replying, he slammed the door to his room.

  I turned to Misty, who’d crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Will you tell me why you always squabble with Travis? Do you like him, by any chance?”

  “Nonsense, I don’t like that vain peacock at all. He thinks that just because he has a nice body, all women will drool over him and bat their eyelashes.”

  Only a jealous woman would speak like that.

  “Misty… It’s me, you can tell me the truth.”

  She curled her lips and didn’t dare look at me. When she finally did, her eyes started firing sparks. “I’m nobody to him. You heard what he called me, right? A harpy.” It turned out I was right—she simply liked him, but didn’t know how to show it.

  “Travis used to like you, until we started living together. You take men back to the house, he brings women. There’s a miasma of your male and female hormones all over the place. Travis is decent, be nicer to him. Give him a chance to get to know the real Misty.” She went to get up from the couch, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Go to him and talk it out.”

  “Fine, I will, but first tell me about Ryan.” A sly smile appeared on her face.

  I couldn’t help but smile either. “Ryan Wilder is the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He makes me feel like I’m the most special woman on the planet. He even wants to introduce me to his mother.”

  Everything between us was happening too fast—a powerful current was carrying us, but that didn’t worry me because I was in love with him.

  Misty waved her hand dreamily. “Wow, that sounds like something very serious.”

  “Now go to Travis and try to sort
out your situation. I’m tired of finding myself in the middle of a battlefield because of you two.”

  She kissed me on the cheek, murmured, “I love you,” and disappeared into his room.

  My cell phone started ringing, as if it knew I was now alone. The sight of Ryan’s handsome face on the display made my heart beat faster. I accepted the call, my fingers shaking in excitement.

  “I’m on my way to pick you up. Get dressed, so you’ll be ready to come straight down when I call you again.”

  “I missed you, too,” I said mockingly. He didn’t always have to bark orders at me.

  He laughed, the sound of his joy making my loins contract. “I’m sorry, babe, I always miss you. I don’t think it’s necessary to say it all the time.”

  “On the contrary, it is necessary.”

  “I have another way of showing you how much you mean to me.” He was implying through sex and that didn’t surprise me. “Come on, sweetie, get ready. I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

  No shouting could be heard from Travis’ room, which I took as a good sign. Perhaps they’d sorted their problems? I knocked on the door to tell them I was going out, but there was no response, so I entered. The sight of Travis, with his jeans unzipped, sprawled over Misty on the bed, would’ve even got a nun’s juices flowing.

  “When I said you should talk, I didn’t mean you should fuck.”

  As I went back out, I heard Travis growl, “Close the door behind you, Emily.”

  11

  Emily

  You mean so much more to him than all other women who’ve been here. I was trying to calm myself down.

  I was in Ryan’s bathroom, at his extravagant house, which would be better described as a palace. Pale grey, pearly tiles adorned the walls from floor to ceiling. There was a massive mirror above the sink, in which I was currently examining my ashen face.