Lockhart

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Lockhart Page 1

by A. E. Murphy




  Lockhart

  Sweet Demands Trilogy Book 1

  A. E. Murphy

  Copyright © 2017 by Alexandra Murphy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Note from The Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also By The Author

  Note from The Author

  Do me a favour, if you don’t like alpha males that might be considered slightly abusive in real life situations, then don’t read on because Tobias Lockhart is a bastard and he won’t pretend to be any different!

  He said that, not me, I’m just the messenger. Hehehe. <3

  This one’s for Addi, you dirty bitch. <3 Don’t ever stop being exactly who you are!

  “Are you nervous?” I ask Dane, wringing my hands in my lap.

  He shakes his head, causing his thick blonde locks to bounce in all directions. “Nah.”

  “Typical,” I sigh, chewing on my lower lip.

  He smiles and places his hand over mine. “You need to keep it together.” Nodding over at Kai, we both watch him pace back and forth nervously. “I can’t lose the both of you right now.”

  Elbowing him playfully, I grab a magazine from the small table beside the plush leather couch and wait in silence. My fingers are trembling as I turn each page, my excitement too much for my mind to deal with the words and pictures on the glossy paper.

  “They’ve changed their minds,” Kai suddenly blurts, coming to a stop in front of me.

  I arch a brow and stare up at him.

  “You’re right,” he agrees with my silence. “They would have escorted us out if they’d changed their minds.” He lets out a relieved breath. “Thanks.”

  “How do you both do that?” Dane whispers as Kai starts pacing back and forth again.

  “What?”

  He gives me an incredulous look before answering. “Talk to each other without actually talking to each other?”

  I shrug, ready to respond, but I’m cut off by the very beautiful receptionist making an appearance and smiling widely at the three of us. How can anyone be so beautiful? It’s unfair.

  And here I am dressed in a faded denim, dungaree dress and a leather jacket with studs on the sleeves. I look more male than female, especially in comparison to the curvaceous beauty before me with perfectly tamed hair and naturally tanned skin.

  “They’re ready for you now,” she announces, still smiling.

  Dane and I stand as Kai begins to follow her. He almost overtakes the woman three times as we make our way down the long hallway. Eager is the word that comes to mind.

  My trembling only gets worse as we reach the room.

  “Remember guys, no swearing, be polite and don’t speak unless spoken to,” Kai orders, tussling his black hair with his hands as I unzip my leather jacket, hoping my two small handfuls of chest meat will persuade them to take us on.

  Who am I kidding? These guys have signed some of the sexiest women in the world. I doubt they’ll be even slightly fazed by my perky boobs.

  The large double doors open and I’m tempted to cover my face with both hands and run away screaming. I don’t. Instead, I lift my chin, trying to at least pretend I have confidence. I’m losing myself. This isn’t me. I don’t require approval of my looks in order to further my career. What is wrong with me?

  We’re instantly greeted by three men, all smiling, all in suits and all happy to shake our hands.

  “I’ll introduce myself first.” The tallest man at six foot, grins from ear to ear. “I’m Darren Hay. I’ll be your representation. Which one of you is the Mr Mathews that I’ve been speaking with for the past two months?”

  Representation? Don’t we already have representation? I have no idea what I’m doing. Fortunately Kai does and he instantly steps forward and takes charge. Just how I like it.

  “I’m Kai Mathews, this is Dane Holmes and this is…”

  He’s cut off by Darren who reaches for me, grinning even wider than before. Yes, that’s possible. “Cerise Branch. Unique name. Were your parents aware of the actual meaning of Cerise?”

  “Yes, if the colour of my baby clothes are anything to go by,” I joke, giving his hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Hello,” I say to the next man, who introduces himself as Wayne Kaplan. I’m not entirely sure why he’s here. He doesn’t tell us either.

  The last man is called Rick Petty; he’s Mr Lockhart’s assistant as far as I’m aware.

  Speaking of which, where is he?

  Seeing the question in my eyes, Rick steps forward. I tower over him by at least two inches and I’m only five foot six. “He’ll be with us shortly. Can I offer you a drink?”

  I nod, needing something to hold to keep my hands steady. “I’d appreciate a…”

  “Cinnamon latte with extra cinnamon,” Darren puts in, looking very proud of himself. “I’ve been doing my research.”

  Oh. “Great, thank you, but if it’s too much trouble a coffee will suffice.” I go unheard as Rick is busy taking the orders of my band mates.

  “Did you tell him my favourite drink?” I whisper to Kai when the introductions are done and we’re seated on one side of the table. He doesn’t respond and I take this as a confirmation.

  I’m not comfortable with the fact I’m seated to the right of where Mr Lockhart will be sitting but Darren seemed adamant I was to sit right here.

  Why?

  I was half tempted to sit at the end of the large oval table in Mr Lockhart’s seat just to annoy everybody. That would probably be the wrong thing to do though.

  We all make boring small talk as I count the clouds in the sky through the large window. There are seven that I can see, each moving at a slower than snail’s pace across the sky. The only way you know they’ve moved at all is if you mentally measure the distance between them and the edge of the window.

  I’m bored. When I get bored I find boring things to entertain myself.

  I wish I had my keyboard with me.

  The door opens two minutes later and Rick walks in with a tray of drinks in large blue and silver cups that oddly match the décor of the room. “Mr Lockhart will be arriving in approximately forty seconds. I have confirmation that he stepped into the lobby only a minute ago.”

  Kai tenses. Hell, we all tense.

  Even Darren seems to freeze. He also falls silent and I have to admit, I’m happy for that. It’s hard making music in your mind when somebody keeps droning on about mundane things, such as the weather and what his wife made for dinner last week.

  “I’ll be back shortly; I have to meet him at the elevator.” Rick scarpers away, closing the double doors behind him.

  The room falls eerily silent, so naturally I break that silence by tapping a beat on the table with the tips of my nails.

  Thirty seconds have passed when Darren reaches across the table and places his hand over mine. He gives me a warning look and shakes his head slightly.

  “Sorry,” I mouth and lace my fingers in front of me.

  His smile is apologetic but I’m quickly pulled away from that when the doors open, both of them hitting th
eir doorstops on each wall.

  We all jump.

  I’m about to glare at the man who caused such a scene.

  My glare is lost.

  My eyes meet his and a fluttering warmth spreads through me, one I’ve never felt before. It hits me in the chest like a freight train and I can’t tear my eyes away.

  I find myself making a note of his stunning eye colour, blue, but not blue like the ocean or sky. It’s closer to the colour aqua but a shade darker. There’s no description for them. They’re mesmerising.

  He’s so handsome. His nose is perfectly in proportion with the rest of his face, and his lips are thick and a smooth dark pink. His dark hair is slightly wavy, curling to the middle of his neck. It’s the perfect colour for the honey toned skin that no doubt makes up his body. The tailored suit he’s wearing hides the rest from view.

  I can hear my heart in my head; it’s quickening as he moves closer to his seat, his eyes staring intensely at me.

  I can’t pull myself away. I can feel Kai’s elbow digging into my ribs but it’s doing nothing to snap me out of my trance.

  Mr Lockhart has to be the most delicious man I’ve ever met. He’s also nine years my senior and my future boss.

  Although I’m probably going to be fired before our working relationship has even begun, because I’m sure the way I’m perusing him could be classed as sexual harassment.

  Give me a break; I’m only twenty.

  I’ve always had a thing for older men. Mostly my old teachers and, at one point, my doctor. Anybody would have felt the same. They were very, very attractive men.

  “Cerise.” I don’t realise I’m standing until everybody else sits down and I’m still out of my seat, not including Mr Lockhart. He says my name, his voice holding a slight accent that I can’t quite place. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  My mouth goes dry, his accent caressing me in ways it shouldn’t. “You too.” I finally manage to choke out, my breath leaving me in a whoosh when he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. His hooded aqua eyes don’t leave mine.

  “Sit,” he demands softly, his curious eyes still on me.

  I nod and quickly take my seat, feeling the need to fan my face. I want to say sorry; I want to explain my strange behaviour.

  I don’t. Obviously that would be the wrong thing to do. Maybe nobody noticed it. Besides, I’m not even sure I can explain my behaviour.

  His gaze still holding my eyes, I see his lips twitch and my cheeks heat. I don’t blush… ever, yet suddenly I’m a blusher. What is he doing to me?

  “I watched your performance at the Vienna Musikverein seven years ago.” He comments, still holding my fingers with his. Gulp. “The music was divine. It captivated me in a way I’ve not been captivated since I discovered Lux Aeterna and Finlandia at the age of six.”

  Holy crap. “Th… thank you.”

  He smiles, slow and seductive, his lips barely tipping up at the edges. It’s his eyes that show the smile. “Yet you disappeared. You sold out concerts; people from all over the world came to hear your music.” He leans forward as if sharing a secret, his tongue wetting his lips. This draws my attention from his eyes to his lips and an image flashes through my mind of me on my back and him pressing his lips to my inner thigh. I rub my legs together to stifle the tingle that zaps me in my core. “I should know; I was one of them.”

  I do nothing but inhale a sharp breath.

  He continues, his thumb now stroking my fingers gently. “Why did you give up all of that,” he waves his hand at the table, “for this?”

  The question I’ve been dreading. “This makes me happy.”

  “And that didn’t?” He looks surprised and something tells me he’s not easily surprised. I don’t respond; there’s no need for us to get into this right now. When he realises I’m not going to answer, his eyes darken and his fingers and thumb squeeze the centre of my middle finger. “I asked you a question.”

  Shiver. “I know.” Even through this lustful fog, I keep my defiance.

  Light shines from his eyes and somehow I don’t think it’s a light of good things. It’s as if I’ve awoken a dormant spirit. His lips curve up as he releases my hand and leans back to assess me. There’s silence for a few moments as he looks me up and down, his long fingers gently tapping at the table much like I was doing before he entered the room. “Let’s get down to business then, shall we?”

  He looks away and whatever line held us together is instantly snapped. I become aware of the fact there are other people in the room and all of them are looking my way.

  Kai’s jaw is clenched, Dane looks perplexed and Rick and Darren both look nervous.

  Files are pulled out and spread along the table, music we’ve written is spoken about and put in piles labelled yes, no, and maybe. It’s all very boring. This part doesn’t interest me; I’m all about the music.

  Mostly it’s me that writes it. Dane and Kai are the other instruments. I’m not doing this for me; I’m doing it for them. I’d be happy sitting at home in my room just singing, playing my piano, and losing myself to the soft tunes that constantly float through my mind and from my body.

  I’m onto my second drink and signing another contract that has been looked over by our previous representation and our new representation. Honestly, I barely even skim read anything. Mostly I just look for the little tab that reads, ‘sign here.’

  Something touches my leg and I figure it’s Mr Lockhart’s knee accidentally brushing mine. It’s not the first time it has happened since he sat and it’s inevitable with how close we all are.

  But it just happened again and I took note of how it felt. It was too small to be a knee and too deliberate, too much of a caress.

  I look up from the paper I’m pretending to read and observe Mr Lockhart’s profile. He seems relaxed and in control; he doesn’t look like he’s even noticed.

  He’s scribbling away in a journal of sorts. I notice music notes and words around the edges of the page. It’s too small for me to read clearly but I give it my best shot.

  Goosebumps break out over my skin when I feel the caress again. I recognise it immediately to be two fingers gently moving over the top of my leg. My eyes widen. The others are too deep into their conversation to notice my suddenly stiff posture. Plus, Mr Lockhart isn’t even looking at me; he is in fact joining in the conversation with the others as his left hand grips my knee and squeezes with an almost bruising force.

  It burns and not in a bad way.

  What do I do?

  His hand creeps up my leg, gliding on the surface of my skin. It’s so large and warm and by the tight grip he had only moments ago, I know it to be strong too.

  When he reaches the edge of my dress, I gasp. It sounded loud to my own ears but, still, nobody has noticed.

  *

  The papers on the table begin to slide towards me and I notice a small piece of paper being guided by the hard edge of Mr Lockhart’s folder. I reach for it and cautiously bring it to my small stack of signed papers.

  Opening it with trembling fingers, I read the beautifully scrawled handwriting:

  Pull your underwear to the side. I’m going to make you come.

  Afterwards, I’m going to taste you on my fingers and do it again.

  Let’s see how quiet you can be.

  What the fuck?

  I gulp, my right hand disappearing under the table. I place it on my lap, my indecision forcing me to not move a muscle. My lust and curiosity are screaming at me to do it, to do as he says.

  Teasing the edge of my dress, I begin to slowly raise it, wondering what he’ll do. He only follows the path of my dress with his hand. I keep hold of the denim, my hand clenching around the fabric. His fingers become impatient and one of them taps against my heated mound, telling me to follow his instructions and move my satin knickers to the side.

  A deep need pools in my belly, a need I’ve never felt before. The situation is thrilling and terrifying. I want to do it; I want to be re
ckless and for a moment forget my morals and reservations.

  His head turns towards me and his eyes narrow.

  A long finger begins rubbing me over satin, sliding easily up and down in between my thighs.

  A moan almost escapes me, but fortunately I suppress it. There is no way they will miss a moan, no matter how distracted they seem.

  Releasing my dress, I slowly move my hand down, dipping under the fabric slightly and wincing when the back of my hand connects with his.

  A smile that can only be described as smug lights up his face.

  I finally snap out of my daze when the realisation of what it is I’m doing washes over me like an icy wave.

  In seconds I have a hold of his wrist and I’m pushing his hand away.

  His eyes snap to mine, no longer smug and warm but angry and narrowed.

  Like he did before, he leans back into his seat and assesses me. It takes a while but he finally smiles and, somehow, I don’t think it’s a friendly one.

  Alarm bells ring in my head, one word pounding in my mind like the beat of a bass drum. It flashes like a blinking spotlight. It sings a harmony that brings fear to my very soul.

  Danger.

  “What do you think?” Kai asks me, his eyes glittering with the prospect of an amazing adventure.

  What do I think about what?

  “I’m sure she finds it as exhilarating as you, Mr Mathews.” Mr Lockhart states, resting his elbows on the table. I’m grateful for his interference; he clearly knew I wasn’t listening. “Is everything signed, Rick?”

  Rick looks to Darren, who nods. “Your copies, my copies, their copies and their prior representation’s copies.”

  Rick looks to us, but focuses on me when he asks, “Do you have any questions? Or concerns?”

  “Nope,” Kai responds for the three of us. “It’s all exactly as we discussed it would be.”

  “I shall see you on Monday,” Mr Lockhart states, checking his watch. “It was a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen.” He dips his head and turns to me. “Miss Branch.” Taking my hand again, he kisses my knuckles as his forefinger snakes out and circles the centre of my palm.

 

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