by Rachel Lacey
“And how long was that before you were married?” Todd asked.
“Not long,” Cole hedged, “but long enough for us to know we had something worth taking a chance on.”
Jenn’s gaze darted to his, and for a moment, they just stared into each other’s eyes. He saw the question in hers, and the same question was charging around inside his own head like an angry bull. How much of what he’d just said—of what either of them had just said—was the truth, and how much of it was bullshit for the press?
They wouldn’t be sitting here if they hadn’t gotten drunk and stupid that night, but now that they were here, now that they’d spent almost three months together, where did that leave them? He’d be lying if he said his relationship with Jenn wasn’t a hundred times more meaningful and intimate than anything he’d ever shared with a woman before. But that still didn’t leave them with a real marriage.
When push came to shove, when they tried to align their futures and goals, nothing would ever line up properly. They would have to go their separate ways. He had to let Jenn chase her dreams of love and marriage and babies, and he had to pursue his own dreams. He was married to his career, and it was the only marriage he wanted.
“Let’s talk about your musical collaboration,” Todd said. “Jenn, had you always wanted to move into the music business yourself, or was it just something that grew out of your relationship with Colton?”
“Writing songs, being a songwriter had always been my dream,” Jenn said. “I never imagined myself up onstage, not even in back playing the keyboard. That’s something Cole pushed me to do.”
He gave her hand another squeeze. “Because you’re a natural up there.”
“I’m a behind-the-scenes girl at heart,” she told Todd. “I always have been, and I still am.”
“Were you pursuing songwriting before you met Cole, then?” Todd asked.
“Sort of. I was writing songs, but I hadn’t worked up the courage to share them with anyone yet.”
“Why not Katherine Hayes? You two have worked together for years, if I’m not mistaken.”
“A lot of reasons, really. One is that I just wasn’t quite ready to take that step. And also, I didn’t want to put her in an awkward position as my boss—which she has since told me was ridiculous.” Jenn smiled softly.
Todd asked several more questions about Jenn’s songwriting and their work together, and while Cole could tell she still wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about it all on the record, she was a pro and never made a single misstep.
“I don’t have plans for any more live performances with Cole after our last club date next week, but I do hope that a few of my songs find their way onto his next album,” Jenn told Todd smoothly.
“That’s a definite,” Cole said. “But I wouldn’t rule out future live performances either. Imagine you and me together up in front of a stadium crowd? That would be epic, baby.”
She gave him a funny look, then smiled gamely for their audience. “Never say never.”
“What was that about?” Jenn asked Cole after everyone had left. “Pushing me about going on tour with you when you know that won’t ever happen?”
He shrugged, but there was a strange tension in his posture as if he was as uncomfortably aware of his misstep as she was. “Just playing along for the interview.”
“Is that what this is about for you? Playing along? Putting on a show?”
“Well, that’s what it is, right?” He walked to the bar and poured himself a shot.
“Sure. Fine. Whatever.” She didn’t even try to keep the bitterness out of her tone. She turned her back on him, drumming her fingers irritably against the countertop. “Is that what we’re doing behind closed doors too?”
“You know it’s not.” He rounded on her, his usual come-what-may demeanor replaced now with a look that was almost aggressive. “The chemistry between us is real. It’s always been real. I wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
“This is about more than chemistry, and you know it.” She strode past him to the bar and poured her own shot, downing it in a single, searing gulp. She had no idea why she was pushing him on this, because he would never tell her the things she wanted to hear.
“I don’t know anything anymore,” he said from behind her, his voice strange and detached.
“Well, that makes two of us, then.” She kept her hands on the bar, her back to Cole. “I don’t like giving interviews about us. I don’t like not knowing whether the things you’re saying are the truth or just part of the role you’re playing.”
“Interviews are always about playing a role,” he said. “You should know that as well as I do.”
She blew out a breath, turning to face him. “I do.”
“Then what are you pissed about?”
Because I’m in love with you, and it’s my own stupid fault for letting it happen, because there’s no way this thing between us can ever work out. “I don’t…I don’t know.”
He came to her, reaching out to cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek the way he so often did. “When I said I wanted you up onstage with me in front of a stadium crowd, I wasn’t jerking you around for Modern Rock’s benefit. I was picturing us up there together at MadFest next month, doing ‘Right Away.’”
“That would be crazy,” she murmured, lost in the heat of his gaze. “I’m working MadFest. Kate’s performing.”
“And I’m positive she’d be willing to let you go for ten minutes to play with me. We could get you a real baby grand up there on that stage, Jenn. Picture it.”
She was picturing it, and that was the problem. Despite what she’d told Todd Wright, she enjoyed being up onstage with Cole. Sitting in the back behind her keyboard suited her just fine. It was exhilarating. Just the thought of getting up onstage with him at MadFest made the hairs rise up and down her arms. And that had nothing to do with a desire for the spotlight. It was all Cole.
“Think about it.” He pressed her against him, letting her feel his hard cock against her belly.
She gasped as he rocked his hips against her. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”
“Then don’t.” He covered her mouth with his. There was no more thinking—or talking—then, just a frantic scramble as they jumped each other. Her legs were around his hips, her tongue in his mouth, his hands clasped around her ass, supporting her as he slid her up and down the hard ridge of his erection.
Everything else might be a mess, but God, they were good at this part. He carried her up the stairs to his bedroom—their bedroom—and laid her gently on the bed. They touched and caressed as they worked their way out of their clothes until their naked bodies were pressed together.
“This is my favorite part,” Cole murmured as he stroked a finger between her legs, driving her mad with need. His cock pressed against her thigh. “When I’m so desperate for you, I feel like I might die if I’m not inside you in the next heartbeat.”
“Then get inside me.” She reached between them and gripped him, loving the way his cock jerked beneath her fingers.
“It’s the anticipation, baby,” he said, thrusting his hips into her grasp, his fingers still stroking her. The look in his eyes was intense, hot, almost feral.
“You enjoy torturing yourself.” She pressed him between her legs so that it was his cock, not his fingers, that rubbed against her clit, driving her ever closer to the edge.
“I like building the fire as hot as I can stand it.” His voice was low and gritty, his cock pulsing between her thighs.
“It’s pretty hot already.” She shifted so that the head of his cock pressed against her right where she needed him, her hips grinding helplessly against him because she was so close…so close…
“Go ahead, baby. Use me for what you need.” He rocked his hips so that his head slid through her folds, once, twice, and…
A low moan escaped her throat as the orgasm pulsed through her, sending liquid heat through her system in a series of bli
ssful waves.
“Fuck, yes,” Cole growled, his hips still moving, rubbing her just right. “So hot.”
“Hurry up,” she mumbled.
He grabbed a condom from the bedside table and rolled it on in record time, pushing inside her as the last waves of release still echoed inside her. The feel of his cock, so big and hard and hot inside her, was almost too much. She moaned again as he began to move, each thrust pushing her higher. They moved together, kissing as his hips pumped into her, and she’d just caught her breath from her first orgasm when she felt another building inside her.
Cole was close too, swearing as his hips slammed into her, hard and fast and out of control until she was coming again, and so was he, and they clung to each other frantically as they rode out their release.
“Never knew it could be this good,” he mumbled as he lay beside her afterward, limp and spent.
Neither had she.
“I’m having a hard time imagining how someone who loves sex as much as you do managed to go over a year without it.”
Cole tightened his arms around Jenn, keeping her pressed firmly against him. “I was a very frustrated bastard for a very long time.”
“There was a certain frustrated air about you when we met,” she said with laughter in her voice.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “But as much as I wanted sex, I couldn’t seem to find anyone I wanted to have it with. Until I met you.”
“And then I refused to sleep with you.”
“Baby, that was the toughest month of my life. I think I jerked off more that month than the entire year leading up to it.”
She grinned as she looked down at his cock, which had hardened at the memory. “I guess we still have some lost time to make up for, then, don’t we?”
“Yeah, we do.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon making up for some of that lost time. There was an urgency between them lately that hadn’t been there before. Even though they were only halfway through their six-month contract, they both seemed to feel the clock ticking ever louder, making them frantic to take advantage of every second together.
The next day, they went to a studio uptown for the photo shoot to accompany their interview in Modern Rock. As they rode back to his house afterward, he caught her scowling at her phone.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“More headlines about me…us.”
“Don’t look,” he said. “Nothing good ever comes from reading the tabloids.”
“It’s my job to read Kate’s headlines. I have this alert on my phone for any time her name is mentioned. I set one up for me too.” She thumbed through the list of mentions on her phone.
“But it’s not your job to read your own headlines.”
“I wish I didn’t have headlines to read,” she said, frowning.
That stuck in his gut. What could he say? They rode the rest of the way home in uncomfortable silence. This undercurrent—tension—whatever it was between them, seemed to grow stronger each day, and he fucking hated it. This was what he’d always feared would happen if he got married. He’d found someone he really meshed with, someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit, and now they were starting to unravel because of that stupid piece of paper binding them together.
If only…
But there was nothing to change. If they’d kept their relationship strictly business, they could have gone their separate ways at the end of their contract with no hurt feelings. But that wasn’t an option, had never really been an option. The chemistry between them was too strong to go six months living together without giving in to it. Now there would be hurt feelings when the time came. Jenn had said once that it would make their breakup look more authentic, but right now, authentic was the last thing he wanted.
He just wanted Jenn, and he didn’t want to hurt her.
They spent the rest of the week ignoring the awkward moments that had plagued them, enjoying as many fun dates and activities as they could fit into their schedule between sessions with the band and considerable time spent screwing each other’s brains out.
“I’ll be ready to start recording the new album soon, probably next month,” he said as they left the studio together the following Thursday night.
“Definitely,” she agreed, resting her head on his shoulder as they rode home in the back of the Town Car.
“Will you come?” he asked. “Will you record the piano for ‘Right Away’?”
She shook her head against his shoulder. “I’m not a professional. You should hire someone amazing to play on your album.”
“I can’t imagine anyone else playing the piano on that song, Jenn. I want it to be you.”
She drew back to stare at him, her expression half-hidden in the dim interior of the car. “But someone else will, Cole. If that song is a single…if you ever perform it live on tour…someone else will have to play the piano.”
“Then let yours be the official version. Please?” He heard the pleading note in his voice, and he was sure she heard it too.
“I’ll think about it.” She paused, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “But it might just be…”
“What?” he asked, already knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“It might be harder for me to hear it on the radio someday,” she said softly.
He blew out a breath. “Fuck.”
“Do you ever think about what would happen if we—” Her words came out in a rush.
“No.” He turned his head to look out the window. “It would be a disaster.”
“You’re right,” she whispered, but he heard the hurt in her voice, and it only made the ache in his chest a million times worse.
The following night, they took the stage at The Pour House, their final live club gig as Social Experiment. He’d already hired the guys to play at MadFest with him next month, and he was still hoping Jenn would agree to join them too. The stage lights beat down on him as he roared through the set list, song after song. They were like a well-oiled machine now. He could depend on Naveen’s beats and Tom’s licks like clockwork.
“King of Manhattan” had become his anthem again—now that his time as the King of Tiny Dix seemed to be a thing of the past—and so they’d moved it to the end of the show, with only “Right Away” remaining after it.
“I’m the king…the king…the king of Manhattan,” he yelled, the crowd screaming along with him. The energy, the adrenaline went straight to his dick. When the song ended, a tech wheeled the keyboard onto the stage, and Jenn stepped out of the shadows, looking like a goddess in gray pants and a turquoise blouse. He was hard as stone.
She perched on her seat behind the keyboard, a look of total concentration on her face as she played the opening bar of “Right Away.” As he joined in on guitar, she looked up and met his gaze, a wide smile on her face. She looked past him at the crowd beyond, and he knew the look on her face because he’d felt it himself a million times. It was pure awe. Looking out into the audience was like taking a hit off the most powerful drug in the world. And she felt it. She might try to deny it, but she was as high on adrenaline as he was right now.
He was so absorbed with watching her that he completely missed his cue. With a meaningful look, she replayed the last bar of piano music as the guys followed her lead. He winked at her as he began to sing, facing sideways so that he could watch her while still keeping a profile toward the audience.
“Swift as the wind, high as a kite, I can’t get my mind off you, day or night,” he sang, his vocals in perfect sync with the notes of her keyboard and the guys behind her. His eyes locked with Jenn’s, and he’d never sung truer words. “I need you, baby, right away.”
Part III
THE KING OF TINY DIX REIGNS AGAIN
June 25 - #1 Celebrity News Source
We hate to say we didn’t see this coming, but for a few months there, Colton Nix really had us fooled. We believed the fairy tale of love at first sight that C
olton and Jennifer spun for us, but a source close to the pair has confirmed anonymously that their marriage was nothing more than a business agreement designed to end those pesky rumors about his problems in the bedroom. The King of Tiny Dix reigns again!
22
Jenn sat on the couch in the living room, phone clutched in her hand. The headline on her screen read “Colton Nix’s New Bride: Professional Parasite.” The accompanying article accused her of clinging to every celebrity she could get her hands on, using them to try to get her break as a songwriter. Ever since the Modern Rock article—which had been very tastefully done—the celebrity gossip bloggers had become obsessed with her songwriting aspirations.
“Jennifer MacDonald has been trying unsuccessfully for years to get her big break,” the article stated. “Our source tells us that she repeatedly begged Katherine Hayes to record one of her songs. Apparently, Katherine didn’t feel her ambitious assistant had what it took, but Jennifer seized every opportunity to lobby for her own success.”
A photo gallery followed, showing Jenn with various powerful players in the business—most of them men—and alleging that she’d tried to use her connections through Kate to push her agenda as a songwriter. That she’d tried to sleep her way to the top. That she’d finally succeeded when she married Cole.
Tears pricked behind her eyes.
How dare they…
A key jingled in the back door, and she lurched to her feet. Cole walked in, looking so ridiculously sexy in his dark-wash jeans and fitted T-shirt that her stomach tingled for a whole different reason. But the article…and there were more. Her phone kept dinging with notifications.
“Have you seen?” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat to cover it.
“That I’m the King of Tiny Dix again?” he asked, an ugly sneer on his face. “Yeah, Jorja just texted it to me.”
“What?” She looked down at her phone. A new article had just popped in, alleging that Cole had cut a deal with Jenn: she’d pose as his wife to hide his impotence problem if he helped launch her songwriting career. “No, that’s not what I—”