Rockstar Secrets

by Ja'Nese Dixon

  “Sorry for keeping you.”

  “Sit with me.” He tapped the couch next to him. She removed the bag and dropped it on the floor sitting next to him. “I need your help with getting Marques to this address.” He passed her a card. “We are planning a surprise party with the team and family members. It’s a farewell, we’re proud of you, type gathering.”

  “He’ll love that.” She smiled holding the card in her hand.

  Cameron’s head quirked and his assessing eyes seemed to examine her more intently. “We hope so.”

  Standing as he did she slid the card into the back pocket of her jeans.

  “Are you heading over to the venue?” She thrust her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the venue.

  “Not now, I will arrive later. He doesn’t know I’m coming. I need to slide in after the lights lower and slip out before his show ends.”

  “I understand. Your secret is safe with me,” Brione added as they walked out of the bus. He remained quiet as she waved goodbye to the driver.

  Cameron had an even keel about him. His vibe was chill and always unreadable. His quiet intensity made her anxious to say something. Anything.

  “I'll make sure he gets there.” She pushed her shades on.

  Cameron scanned her from head to toe. “I bet you will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Marques arrived at sound check wearing an Essence t-shirt he grabbed from a vendor and his workout shorts. He walked in a daze thinking about his encounter with Brione. She was more beautiful than his imagination conjured. He entered his room rattled by Sam’s pop up appearance. Then he found her covered in fragrant bubbles in his shower listening to Secrets.

  He entered the lounge and scanned the room with a small stage. They told Devin it held up to five thousand people. He’d give them a formidable show whether it was five, five hundred or the full five thousand.

  His DJ looked up. “There you are. We’re ready for you.”

  Marques walked over to the stage and put in his earpiece. “It’s been a long morning. Testing. Testing. One…two…three…. Adjust the left side up.” He played with the sound until it was just right. “Let’s run Secrets.”

  Letting the words of the song seep into his core. As an entertainer, a healthy balance of the fantasy and the man stood behind the mic. The balance came when he focused on the reason they bought a ticket. The reasons they parked cars and wore their sexiest dresses. The reasons they squeezed in seats or stood in shoes that looked good but fit too tight. It was to see the fantasy, but they yearned to hear the man.

  Closing his eyes, he let the words flow. His mind vividly moving through the day. Talking with the woman that broke his heart and flirting with the woman who had him wanting to see the woman behind her walls. Wanting to dig through the rubble and learn her inside and out. Wanting to know her secrets. Would she let him?

  The last note echoed through the room, and he opened his eyes finding the object of his attention. A slow smile crossed Brione's face, and he had an urge to kiss her. Then a thunderous sound surrounded them. He looked to the left and right as they cheered, the room was full of workers. Heat rushed his face as his head dropped. Shouts and clapping rang for several minutes. He glanced up, Brione pushed two fingers into her mouth, and a whistle rang through the crowd.

  “Tonight is going to be amazing.” He heard from behind, he agreed.

  He bowed, stepping down from the stage. The crowd dispersed, and he shook extended hands and accepted firm pats on the back. He waved goodbye to the band as he approached Brione.

  “Princess, what are those tears about?” He brushed them away as she held his wrist.

  “How do you do that? It’s like you’re here, but you’re not.” Her eyes glistened, a delicate thread began to form between them like the chorus gluing the verses together creating a song. A song uniquely their own and it was simmering in the depths of her eyes.

  He pulled her close smelling the fragrance on her skin, wishing they were alone. “Part of it is DNA, and the rest is…” He searched her eyes for the right word. “…inspiration.” An urgent need to taste her consumed him. Caught in the moment, he lowered his mouth to hers praying she wouldn’t step away. Her lips were warm and sweet. He felt her step closer and his thoughts spun out of control.

  “Princess, you are making this hard.”

  “Hard?”

  He glanced down into her eyes. She looked at him with dreamy eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. He threw his head back and laughed until his vision was clouded. “Princess, you keep this up, and I’ll show you just how hard it is.”

  Her presence filled him with a joy he didn’t know was missing. Standing on her tiptoes, she touched her lips to his. “Maybe. But right now you need to get moving. You have a show, and I have work to do.” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. Then she patted his butt. “Now get going.”

  * * *

  Marques entered the bus and headed straight to his room. He had enough time to shower, and he'd change in his dressing room. He walked into the room and stopped in front of the shower, it still smelled of her, he smiled. Kissing her in front of the band and a room full of people was not on his agenda, but he didn’t regret it. And her smile told him she didn’t either.

  He covered his needs in record time. Hiring Brione lifted a significant load off his shoulders. She was his first assistant. In the past, he worked with Eliana, but officially she worked for Bruce. To have Brione handling the band, arrangements and decisions helped him maintain his creative space.

  A knock on the door stopped him.

  “Yeah.”

  “The bodyguards are here.“

  “Bodyguards?” He opened the door to see Jax. He glanced over his shoulder and saw two large men. They were about his height, around six feet or so. They were massive.

  “Brione sent them over,” Jax offered.

  “Sure, give me about ten minutes.” He closed the door and scanned the room for a final check. He had his wallet and phone. Brione handled his wardrobe this morning, so he only needed his street clothes for afterward. During their preparation time, she’d asked him, how she could help him most and his only request was to be given space to remain creative. And she delivered, big time.

  “I think I’m ready,” he said stepping out of the room. He pulled the door closed and headed to the lounge. The giants stood.

  “Mr. Carter I’m Wesley, and he is Xavier.” The other man saluted with two fingers. “Call me Bull and him X.”

  “Sure.” He shook his outreached hand.

  “Have you worked with bodyguards before?” Bull asked.

  “No. I haven’t needed to.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I’ll give you the rundown. Do as you normally would, and we’ll cover you in the front and back. If you need us to give you more space, let me know. He and I have worked together for more than ten years. We move in sync, and we’ll see things well before you will. So, trust us if you feel us pulling closer.”

  “Have you worked with other artists?” Marques asked.

  “Yes, hip-hop, rock, you name it. This festival is pretty tame but streets are buzzing about your show, and there’s already a line to get in. So, we’re expecting a rowdy bunch.”

  A line? The thought thrilled him.

  “We met with Miss Allen and your band before heading over. You’ll have to point out any other people that we should be aware of for the duration of the evening.”

  “Okay. That should be it. We have a small band, and you’ve met Jax.”

  “Yes, sir. Let’s get going. Is that your only bag?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll take it," X said reaching for the bag. Marques handed it over.

  “Mr. Carter,” Bull continued, “if you need someone removed, someone brought to you, anything out of the ordinary signal us.”

  “Got it.”

  “Then we’re ready when you are.”

  They stepped out of the bus as the sun began to desc
end. He lowered a baseball cap over his head and added shades. The men flanked him. Bull had about three inches on him and X at least two. As the crowd swelled, he started receiving glances. He chalked it up to the massive men accompanying him. How often did three six foot tall black men stroll through a crowd?

  He'd never needed bodyguards before, but he trusted Brione's judgment. She operated efficiently and fell into the shadows, allowing his band to work. But after the couple weeks of preparing for the tour, something changed. He no longer had to scan the room for Brione, he felt her before seeing her. Like earlier today, when he opened his eyes, he knew she was there.

  “Marques is that you?”

  It was Sam again. Earlier she’d been civil, no nasty comments or intrusive questions. She’d changed over the years. Her hair was blonde, and she’d appeared to have enhanced her body making her curvier.

  She moved closer, Bull stepped slightly to the right wedging a shoulder between them. Marques placed a hand on his shoulder and Bull moved to the left.

  “Yes, I’m heading to my show.”

  “Can I stop by and ask a few questions for my blog?”

  “Sure. Ask for Brione Allen, she’ll make it happen. I gotta go.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Surprised by her gesture, he jerked back. “Good luck.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  She turned to walk in the opposite direction. Marques watched her until the crowd made it impossible.

  “Mr. Carter.” Bull tapped his watch.

  “Yeah man, let’s get going.” They picked up the pace and made it to the venue. The guards took him to a different entrance near the back. He looked over X’s shoulder to the front of the building and there they were, a crowd of women waiting to get in.

  Nervous energy triggered an adrenaline rush. This was what he waited for, Houston was merely a sample of what he expected tonight. Bull opened the door and led him down a dark hall to the dressing room. He heard Brione’s voice before he rounded the corner.

  “There you are. Did you think we could start the show without you?” His heart slammed at the sight of her.

  Brione smiled stopping in the middle of the hallway. The glow of light illuminating her presence. Bull and X parted, and she stood in the hallway in her black Secrets For Ladies Only tour t-shirt and fitted black jeans. The gold letters scribbled in his handwriting stretched across her ample breasts. Her curly mohawk and touch of makeup made her appear edgy and at ease in the hustle and bustle of the dressing area.

  “Thank you,” she said to them as the men fell back. “Your dressing room is this way.” She gestured inside, and he followed. “You have thirty minutes before the Meet and Greet. I’ve laid out your first outfit, and the rest are in order on the rack. I’ll prep the others before each set change since you don’t have a stylist for this show.”

  “You sound like an old pro.” Marques laughed, delighted with her ability to merge into his crazy life and make sense of it all. He assessed the dressing room as she pulled the door closed. The vanity held a mirror with a bouquet of fresh flowers. The side wall contained a couch and behind her was a table with his hot tea, snacks, and junk food for the band later.

  “Do I have a choice? Did you see that crowd?” She chuckled. “I had people nearly knocking me over because of my shirt. They were begging for VIP tickets. And these shirts, I’ll need to call Devin to send us more. I know we’ll sell out tonight.” She said the last more to herself than him as she moved to the snack table and poured hot water into a mug.

  “How long is the Meet and Greet again?” He crossed his hands over his body and pulled the hem of his shirt up and over his head. He walked to the clothes and reached for the white dress shirt for his first outfit. He slipped a hand into the first sleeve and noticed she’d stopped talking. He turned to her, and her eyes were caressing his body as the aroma of mint tea swirled around them.

  “That’s not a good idea,” he whispered. Longing swirled in her beautiful eyes.

  “What?” She made no attempt to hide the fact that she was watching him, and it pleased him more than she’d ever know.

  “The way you’re looking at me.” He slipped the other arm into the shirt but took his time buttoning it up. He stepped in her direction as she slowly brushed her tongue across her lower lip.

  "Mind if I help?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  No. No, you can’t help.

  But Brione's lips did not cooperate. They followed the lead of her raging hormones and the constant hum vibrating through her body whenever Marques was near. Especially now, as his eyes sized her up, blazing a trail south of her waist.

  He pulled her roughly to him. He let a finger lazily trace her collarbone, and up the side of her neck, a hot ache grew in her throat. Her feelings for him were intensifying, and she was at a loss as to how to make it stop. How to make her heart stop flip-flopping.

  “Just this once,” she said, in a tone, she didn’t recognize. A tone thick and rich and needy. Her body ached for his touch. “You have one hundred fans two doors down the hall waiting for you.” The realization made the forbidden kiss all the more appealing.

  “Come here Bri.” She wondered if he could see into her soul. An amused smile played across his lips as her feet seemed to drift along on a cloud. She crossed the room eager for his touch.

  His large hands took her face and held it gently. She could feel his uneven breathing, feeling the heat from his bare chest through her t-shirt. His mouth swooped down to capture hers in a demanding kiss that was like iced sweet tea on a hot summer day, and she drank in the sweetness of his kiss trying to commit his smell, his taste, his strength to memory.

  She loved how tender he was yet the intensity did not compare to their first kiss. That kiss felt raw and needy, and now it felt more like Marques was staking his claim over her mouth. The realization made her legs go weak.

  His lips parted hers in a soul-reaching message. He wanted her. There was no doubt in her mind. And she wanted him. Her thoughts spun out of control as she admitted it, if only to herself. Then her heart championed her brain. Tell him.

  “Andrew…” Rumbled in her throat.

  His breath whispered over her lips. “Yes, princess.”

  “I think I’m waving the white flag.” He made Brione hunger for the one thing she had determined to live without. Almost against her will, she began removing his shirt feeling the crisp white fabric gripped between her clutched hands. Her overwhelming need for him blotted out all reason.

  In a blink, she stood before him shirtless in her lacy bra and jeans. He eased the black lace aside and captured her nipple between his teeth. ”I want to make love to you until all you can think of is me.”

  “Too late.” He sucked in air and heat uncurled in her abdomen. He glanced up not freeing her delicate flesh, his eyes scorched her soul.

  “Why did you say that?” he said as if in agony, scooping her up into his arms. He carried her to the couch, lowering her to the cold leather that did little to lessen the heat swirling in the room. He locked the door and discarded his shirt.

  He wrapped her legs around his waist and cradled his hardness against the apex between her thighs. His body was a wall, impassive, unyielding as the inferno in her body hit an all-time high. Her core throbbed with an ache she begged him to extinguish. She gasped as he started moving in a steady motion pushing her closer to the edge, her hands clawed at his back.

  “Andrew please…”

  “Princess this will have to hold you over.” He gripped her hips and thrust as she squeezed fighting the sensation she desperately wanted.

  “Your forfeit means I win. Right?”

  She nodded her head not trusting herself to speak.

  “I want to hear the words. You win, Andrew.” Her heart thundered.

  "You win, Andrew."

  “You will be in my bed every night. Agreed?” Her eyes rolled back as ecstasy called her near. He turned her face to his probing. “Yes
, Andrew?”

  “Yes, Andrew.”

  “Thank you, Princess.” He pinned her with his eyes as the motion increased. She clenched her eyes wanting the feeling to stay a little longer. “Don’t you dare fight it.” His silky voice held a challenge.

  He traced his moist tongue down the valley between her breasts and took hold of her nipple again and sucked until the stinging sensation made her crazy. He was working her into a frenzy, she stopped fighting it and let her body have its way. Allowing Andrew to have his way.

  Her body went taut as his rhythm increased, pleasure and release mounted a war inside and she could only scream it out. Her breath caught and his mouth captured her cries as the orgasm rippled through her like shooting stars and rocket ships. And then his magical mouth kissed her back to earth.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Marques entered the Meet and Greet in a daze. His body spent with wanting her. He dressed in option two for the night since his dress shirt was wrinkled. He left her sprawled on the couch. It took every wise cell in his brain not to make love to her on that couch.

  The fans stood in the waiting room. Brione set it up with the backdrop against the far wall and the door at the fans’ backs. It meant he entered without their knowledge.

  “Good evening ladies.” He turned on his high voltage smile. For the next thirty minutes, he took pictures, signed autographs as they ran live videos and took pictures for social media.

  The moment felt tremendous but not as amazing as having Brione beneath him.

  “Marques, you have fifteen minutes.” His eyes sought hers.

  “Thank you Brione.” Her slight blush told him she was as affected as he was. Her hair was in a messy bun, she had on light makeup. But her beauty had nothing to do with any of it. God, he wanted her!

  “I’d like a picture before you go.” Sam stepped forward passing her cellphone to a woman standing beside her. Sam slipped her hand around Marques’ waist and leaned into his body. “Aren’t you going to smile Andy?” she said with a chuckle for all to hear.