by Nina Levine
“Jett, where are you?” He sounds irritated.
“I’m with Presley. Why?”
“You’re supposed to be at the recording studio this morning.”
Shit, I’d forgotten about that.
“Sorry, Tom. I’m on my way now,” I say as I move off Presley. As I end the call, I tell her, “I’ve gotta head to the studio. I forgot we have a band meeting this morning.”
Shifting so she can prop herself up on her elbows, she says, “All good.”
I pull on my shirt and grin at her. “You free tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’m taking you out, and then I’m bringing you home to have my way with you,” I promise her as I bend and kiss her.
“Promises, promises,” she jokes, but I can see she’s down with that idea.
I grab my car keys and nod as I head out of the bedroom. “You better fucking believe it, baby. You won’t know what hit you when I make good on that promise.”
As I walk out the front door, the sound of her laughing is ringing in my head, and it’s the best fucking sound to begin the day with.
* * *
Van is sitting in the corner, moody as ever, when I enter the studio half an hour later. He stands and throws me a filthy look. “Glad you could make it.” His sarcasm drips from his lips and it pisses me off.
As I approach him, West jumps in between us and places his hands on my chest, trying to hold me back. “Can you two give it a rest?” he mutters.
Halting my progress, I scowl at Van and say, “I’m here now, so let’s get this over with.”
Tom enters the conversation. “Jett, the label wants to fast track this album. They’ve done some testing and there’s a lot of fans screaming for it.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we have to rush it. We said we were taking our time with this one so we could have a break.” I stop and look at him. “We’re fucking exhausted and need some time off.”
Tom nods in agreement. “I know, but the boys are keen to do this so they’re just waiting for you to give it the green light, too.”
I shake my head in disapproval. Looking around the room, I ask, “You all really want to do this? What about the decision we’d already made and all agreed to?”
Van steps forward. “The label’s offered a bonus to all of us if we do it now.”
My mouth gapes open. “We don’t need the fucking money, Van.”
He shrugs. “Why turn it down? Fuck, Jett, we’ve been doing this for so long now we can all do this shit in our sleep. Let’s just do it, collect the pay check, and then take a break.”
“Except there’s never a break after an album, dickhead. You all know an album means a tour.” I turn my gaze to Hunter. “Are you on board with this?”
“Yeah, I’m easy either way,” he replies.
I look at West. “And you?”
“I’m down with the bonus, so yeah, for sure.”
I shove my fingers through my hair as I fight the urge to scream. This isn’t what we’d agreed but I’m the odd one out and am going to have to cave. In the ten years we’ve been together, we have avoided any major fallout by compromising and working together to come to agreements. Over the past couple of months, Van’s grown moodier than usual and has started quite a few arguments. There’s something going on with him but he refuses to discuss anything whenever I try to get him to open up.
Throwing my arms up, I concede. “Fine, we’ll do this.”
“Great, I’ll let the label know,” Tom says and then eyes me. “You got any songs ready to go?”
Van and I tend to do most of the writing for the band but we haven’t been working on anything together lately. “I’ve got a couple I’ve written.” Looking at Van, I raise my brows. “You got anything?”
He seems cagey, as if he’s holding something back. Shaking his head, he says, “No.”
I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what is going on with him. “We’ll start tomorrow,” I say, and am relieved when he nods. Thank fuck, because Van is the master songwriter of our group. For a moody prick that doesn’t talk much, he has some deep shit inside him that seems to only come out when we’re writing together.
“I’ll be here at eight tomorrow morning.” Once the words are out, I turn and leave. I can’t be in the same room as any of them at the moment.
Needing something to calm me down, I head to see the one person who never fails to bring me some peace.
* * *
“Hey, Princess.”
Claudia turns and smiles at me. She’s madly typing something on her laptop at the kitchen table but she immediately gets up and comes to me. “Hey, big brother,” she says as she throws her arms around me in a big hug. When she’s finished hugging me, she takes a step away from me and frowns. “What’s wrong?”
My sister always did have some kind of special intuition; she always knows when I’m not quite right. “How long have you got to listen?”
“For you, all the time in the world. You know that.” She cocks her head. “You want coffee for this or something stronger?”
Taking a seat at the table, I say, “Coffee.”
She nods and gets to work. “So spill.”
I sigh. “It’s the band . . . no, it’s mainly Van . . .”
Claudia doesn’t have much patience for Van. Groaning, she asks, “Oh God, what has he done now?”
“He’s off at the moment, has been for a little while now. Probably ever since that bitch fiancé of his did the dirty on him.”
“Is he moodier than usual?”
“Yeah, and it’s like he’s trying to provoke fights with me all the time. He never used to be like that with me. And now he’s pushed the band to bring forward our production schedule for the next album.”
She frowns; she knows how important a break is to me at the moment. “That sucks. I wonder what’s going on in that head of his.”
“Fuck knows, and God help us when he explodes because he’s been keeping shit tight for too long now.” I take the coffee she hands me as she sits at the table.
“So no break now?”
I shake my head. “Nope, no break. So that trip you and I had planned to the Whitsundays will need to be postponed.”
Waving me off she says, “That’s all good. I was going to cancel on you anyway.”
It’s my turn to frown now. We’ve been planning this trip for months and she’s been so excited for it that I’m confused as to why she’d cancel on me. “Why?”
A strange look crosses her face. It’s not one I recall seeing before but it reminds me of the looks Van gives me when he’s avoiding giving me a straight answer about something. “I’ve got too much stuff going on at uni. I can’t fit a trip in.”
Now I’m really perplexed. “That doesn’t make sense, Princess. We’ve been planning this for a while now and you took all your study into account. What gives?”
She shoves her chair back and stands. “I’m just too busy, okay?”
The angry look she levels on me is so out of character for her that I’m stunned into silence as I watch her walk out of the room.
What the hell?
“Claudia! What’s going on?” I yell out as I stand to go and follow her.
A moment later I’ve caught up to her and she’s in my arms, crying. “I’m not coping with school at the moment, Jett,” she sobs, “so I need to spend the time studying instead of going on a holiday.”
I wrap my arms tighter around her and run my hand over her hair. Seeing her so distressed kills me. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Shaking her head, she says, “No, and besides, you’ve got enough to deal with in your life already.”
“I’m never too busy for you. You know that. So if you change your mind, you need to let me know, okay?”
“I will.”
We stay like that for a while. Whatever she’s struggling with is really hitting her hard because my sister never falls apart like this. Eventually, she lets me go, a
nd I decide she needs me more than anyone else needs me today. “You wanna go to the movies this afternoon? Or do you need to stay here and study? I’m down for either.”
She gives me a huge smile. “I can take a couple of hours off. Let’s go watch a movie, but only so long as you promise to buy me ice cream afterwards.”
Laughing, I agree.
Movies and ice cream are good for the soul and just what I need today, too.
* * *
Just after six, I arrive at Presley’s house for our date. She answers the door with surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you so early. I’m not ready to go out yet.”
I step inside, brush a kiss over her lips, and say, “You’re beautiful the way you are, sweetheart, and besides, I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to cook you dinner and we’re going to stay in if that’s okay with you.”
Relief covers her face. “That sounds perfect. I’m beat after editing photos all day and don’t really feel like going out.”
“That’s settled then. I’ll cook while you put your feet up.” I shut the door behind me and we head into her kitchen. I’m carrying grocery bags with the ingredients I need to cook so I place them on the counter as she takes a seat on the kitchen stool.
Peering into the bags, she asks, “What’s for dinner?”
I stop and lean across the counter at her so our faces are close and ask her in a low voice, “What do I get if I tell you?”
Her eyes glaze over with desire and I know I’ve got her. “What do you want?”
“Mmm, let me see . . .” I let my voice drift off while I pretend to think about it.
“How about this?” I watch in anticipation as her fingers move to the top button on her top and undo it.
Raising my brows, I murmur, “There might not be any dinner if you keep that up.”
Her fingers stop and she moves off the stool. She has my undivided attention as she walks around to where I’m standing. “Okay, how about this then?” Her lips meet mine a second later and she steals my breath away with a kiss that deserves so much more than me simply telling her what’s for dinner.
I put my arms around her, hands on her ass and pull her into me when she ends the kiss. Grinning, I tell her, “Beef stroganoff and apple crumble for dessert.”
I figure I’ve chosen well when she reaches for my ass and pushes herself even harder against me. “Hell yes. I told you everyone needs a Jett. How did you know beef stroganoff is one of my favourites?”
Jesus, mental note to thank that woman at the grocery store for helping me choose what to cook. “Like I’ve already said, baby, you scored when you found me.”
She laughs and shakes her head. Pushing me away, she mutters, “Let’s see if you can cook, Mr. Rockstar.”
“What do I get if I pull this off?” I play with her. She doesn’t know my mother taught me how to cook beef stroganoff when I was twelve.
“You’re all about getting stuff today, aren’t you?”
God, I love going back and forth with her. “Yes, I am, ‘cause I can’t get enough of you.”
I watch as that desire hits her gaze again. Her voice goes all breathy when she gives me her answer. “If you can cook that dish, I’ll give you whatever you want tonight.”
Thank fuck I had a mother who taught me to cook. “You’re on, sweetheart. I’m going to cook you the best damn stroganoff you’ve ever had.”
“And if you don’t, then you have to give me whatever I want tonight.”
Her words stop me dead in my tracks. Giving her whatever she wants turns me on so fucking much. Finding her gaze, I murmur, “So maybe I won’t cook you the best damn stroganoff.”
She holds my gaze, the look in her eyes causing need to ricochet through my body. At this point, I’m not convinced we’re going to make it through to me even getting so far as chopping mushrooms. “Maybe you should forget cooking and just fuck me.” She says the words any man would kill to hear from her lips.
I don’t need to be told twice. Less than a minute later, I have her under me on her kitchen table. Spread out in front of me like a fucking banquet. And I’m a starved man.
Her hands reach for the button on my jeans but I push them away. My lips are almost on hers as I say, “Soon . . . it’s my turn first.”
I love the way her lips turn up in a lusty smile as she takes my words in, and I can’t help but take a taste of them.
She tastes so damn good.
I could spend every minute of every day at this banquet.
When I finish with her lips, I undo the buttons on her top and remove it, along with her bra. I trail my fingers down from her throat, past her breasts, to her stomach. When I reach her jeans, I undo them, lift her ass, and pull them off. The only thing blocking my path now is her panties but I want to draw this out so I leave them on. Besides, they’re red and lacy and driving me wild.
I bend so I can suck her nipple into my mouth. My hand moves to her other breast and I knead it. Fuck, I love her tits. Can’t get enough of them. I could devote my days to worshipping them. But I also have an addiction to her pussy. It’s a catch fucking twenty-two.
Letting go of her breasts, I make my way down her body, licking and sucking every inch of skin as I go. When my mouth hits her red panties, I run a finger down the centre of them, and enjoy the the way her back arches up off the table and the moan that escapes her lips.
“You like that, baby?” I ask even though it’s a redundant question. She loves the fuck out of that.
Her eyes meet mine and she bites her lip.
Fuck.
My dick jerks at the lip biting she’s got going on.
“You know I love that,” she moans as I do it again.
I kick it up a notch and slip my finger inside her panties. Finding her entrance, I dip my finger into her wetness, and although I’d only intended to tease her, I can’t fucking help myself and push my finger all the way in.
She grips the table as her back arches up off the table again, and she closes her eyes and bites her lip again. She’s sexy as fuck laid out like this and I make a mental note to use the table more.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you, sweetheart,” I demand. I’ve no intention of letting her direct this but I want to hear the words out of her mouth. I want to hear her say she wants me as much as I want her.
She opens her eyes, and finds my gaze. “I want you to fuck me hard, Jett. I want your cock in me. Now.”
My breathing picks up and her words send a need like I’ve never known through my body. Presley demanding my dick is something I want to hear more of in my life. I’ve had hundreds of women demand that of me before, but none have managed to do what she does to me. None have caused an insatiable desire for them like she has.
I bend so my lips are near her ear. “I want that, too, but first I need a taste.”
Her pussy squeezes around my finger that is still inside her and it feels so damn good. My dick jerks again as I imagine her pussy squeezing it. “Hurry up,” she begs, and who the fuck am I to decline her request, so I finally remove her panties and shift my mouth to take a taste.
Fuck me, her pussy may well be the death of me. I take hold of her ass as she rests her legs on my shoulders, and I eat like the starved man I am. My tongue dives deep and my lips work hard to bring her to orgasm. My dick is screaming to have a go, but fucking her with my tongue is all I can think about at the moment.
“Jett!” she screams my name as she orgasms, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world.
“Ride it out, baby.” I take one last taste of her before moving to kiss my way back up her body. When I reach her lips, I kiss her, letting her taste herself and say, “Let me know when you’re ready for more.”
She pulls me back for another kiss and deepens it, taking every last drop of herself she can from me. Presley loves it when I eat her out and then share that with her; it gets her off almost as much as the eating out does. She moans as she ends the kiss. “I’m ready for more.” Her voice drips wit
h a mixture of that just-fucked quality and the desire she has for more. And I can’t get enough of it. I would do anything to hear that voice twenty-four-seven.
I stand back and undo my jeans. As I pull them off, along with my boxers and t-shirt, she shifts to a resting position on her elbows and watches me with appreciative eyes. I hold her gaze and murmur, “I think you should be in this position every night I come over.”
Raising her brows, she asks, “What, ready and waiting?”
I step back closer to the table and nod. “Yeah. Hell, I could get you ready on the phone while I drive over.”
She grins, liking that idea. “I’ll be waiting by the phone tomorrow. What girl wouldn’t like a bit of Jett Vaughn on the phone after a hard day’s work?”
I slide my hands under her ass and pull her to me. “So long as this girl wants that, I’ll be a happy man.”
She pushes up and sits in front of me, wrapping her legs around my body and linking them behind me. Leaning her hands back on the table behind her, she says, “Let’s hurry this along, Mr. Rockstar, I’m getting hungry for your food.”
Taking hold of her legs, I thrust in hard and fast. Her chest rises, her eyes close, and she lets out a breathy moan. My dick can hardly handle it; I’m so fucking hard after having my mouth on her pussy that I know this isn’t going to take long. I pull out and push in again, as far and as hard as I can.
Fuck me.
Her pussy is tight, and it feels so fucking good.
I speed this shit up and a moment later, the only sounds to be heard are our bodies meeting every time I thrust, and the grunts as I chase my release.
“Fuck!” I yell as it hits. My breathing is all over the place and my mind is exploding with light. I pump cum into her as I drop my head against hers. My orgasm consumes me and I milk every last drop of pleasure I can before I finally open my eyes and search for her gaze.
She’s smiling at me, and shifts so she is leaning against me and can wrap her arms around my body. “I love you fucking me,” she says, surprising me. Not the words I was expecting, but I fucking love those words out of her mouth.