by Lisa Suzanne
“Where do you spend the most time?”
“LA.”
“Why?”
“It’s the epicenter of my business.”
I chuckle. “You say business like being a rock star is a job.”
He looks surprised at my words. “It is a job. It may not be traditional, but it’s still a business.”
“When did you know Vail was going to make it big?”
“I didn’t. I still walk around in a daze at the level of success we’ve reached.”
“There was no defining moment?”
He chuckles and turns toward me. He finally pulls me into his arms, and I feel like I’m back just where I’m supposed to be. “The first time we played and someone sang the words to one of our original songs was pretty memorable, but it didn’t mean success. It just meant we had a fan. I guess the first time a label scouted us, I had a feeling we were going somewhere. And then when we signed our first deal and the advance hit the bank, I knew we’d gotten our break.”
“What don’t you like about being a rock star?”
He sighs as he looks out the window. “Besides how my publicist sells my image to the media?”
I run a fingertip over one of his eyebrows. “You’re starting to let me see beyond that image.”
“Privacy. I don’t have any. That’s why I’ve never been in a relationship.”
“Never?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Not since Vail started gaining popularity. It’s hard to tell who wants to be with me for me and who wants to be with me because of what I do.”
“What makes you think I’m any different?”
He shakes his head. “I told you the night we met. I study people, and I can tell you look deeper than what everyone else sees on the outside.”
I run my fingertips along his naked bicep. “The outside package is pretty nice.”
He chuckles and then pushes his hips toward me. “I’ve got a nice package for you.”
“You know, I always expect you to be so cool, to act like how I’d expect a rock star to act, and then you throw me a cheesy line like that and prove you’re just as human as anyone else.”
His grin is so wide that he looks boyish. “I’ll show just how superhuman I can be.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Then allow me to demonstrate.”
I laugh and he strips out of his jeans. I watch with a watering mouth, and then he stalks naked toward me.
I follow pace backward as he walks us to the window until he presses my back against it. The ache that’s been present all day is unbearable, pulsing and throbbing as I wait impatiently for him to be inside me.
“I want you naked,” he whispers. He tugs my shirt over my head and I make quick work of my jeans, sliding my panties down my legs with them as he rolls on a condom.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands, and he hoists me up. I link my arms around his neck and cross my feet behind his back. My back is pressed against the cold glass, but instead of making me cold, it simply balances my body’s temperature since the front is heated by Mark.
His mouth is on my neck as he teases me by sliding his erection through me. He supports me with one arm under my ass, the rest of my weight pressed to the glass. Then, instead of sliding through me, he slides into me.
My body allows him in through the tight opening as I let out a low moan. He feels so good there, so right, as he enters and stills. I open my eyes to look at him, and he’s studying my face.
His breathing is ragged, uneven, a perfect match for mine. We breathe together as our eyes meet, the two of us connected in this erotic and intense way.
He fills me completely. He’s not just filling my body with his—my heart is full. My mind is full. My limbs are weightless because we’re one now, and for the first time in my life, I’m positive that no other connection could ever be this powerful. No one else has ever loved like this.
He starts to move, thrusting his hips toward me, pushing me toward an orgasm. It builds and builds, but then he slips out of me like he’s trying to make this last longer for both of us.
He takes me over to the chair and sits before he pulls me down on top of him. He spears me with his solid erection, and I rest my hands on his shoulders as I set the pace on top. He holds onto my ass as he helps us move together. He buries his face between my breasts, kisses me, worships me.
The spring coils tightly inside me, ready to burst, and he grunts out a series of low moans. He slips out from beneath me and somehow grabs me up into his arms like I weigh nothing, breaking our connection again to give us more time together. He tosses me on the bed then hovers over me, his mouth coming down to mine for an erotic kiss based in a hungry need for each other.
He slips back into me while he kisses me, and I wrap my arms and legs around him as his hips slam into mine with a tender pace but beastly force. The spring inside me releases, tension causing me to clench everywhere, and Mark growls as I find myself lost in the moment, lost in the bliss, lost in him.
“Holy fuck, Reese,” he mutters. “You’re so tight.” His words are grunts as he picks up the pace, slamming into me and forcing my orgasm to carry on and on. It’s stronger, more intense than I remember with him. He pushes harder still into me then lets out a series of sexy moans through his own release.
He stills inside me and collapses over me. The weight of his body over mine is comforting and warm as we both try to catch our breath after the strenuous workout.
twelve
The jingling of my phone pulls me out of a deep sleep. I squint at the screen to make out the time. It’s just after five.
How can I sleep at night considering I’m screwing two brothers? I’m not entirely sure. Mark wore me out, I guess.
I’m ready to end it with Brian. I love him, but he’ll never be Mark. He’ll never match up. He’ll never spark the same emotions in me.
You hear all these stories of tortured rock stars and their fetishes and nightmares, but that’s not Mark. Sure, he has demons. Sure, he has a past. Sure, he’s had sex with more women than the sum total number of students I’ve taught over the past five years. I think twice about that last one, but it doesn’t matter. What he’s been through in the past is what’s molded him into the man beside me.
Guilt presses heavily on me. I know who’s on the other end of the incoming phone call. I hate what I’m doing. I hate who I’ve become, and I hate myself.
Yet I can’t seem to stop. The connection I share with Mark is far too powerful.
The last time I was in this same bed, I got about an hour’s worth of decent rest, then I woke up and pulled Mark’s cashmere blanket around my naked body to memorize every second of my time in his bedroom.
Tonight, though, everything’s different. Well, almost everything. Like last time, I’m naked. But unlike last time, I know this won’t be the last time I’m here.
“Hello?” I whisper. Mark stirs beside me.
“Sorry for waking you, sweetheart.” Brian’s voice is loud and clear through the line. “I’m taking a quick break. Just wanted to hear your voice.”
My heart races as I think about ending our relationship. I want to say the words into the phone, want to say how I love him but I think I’m more in love with someone else, want to be honest with him, but I can’t seem to open my mouth to form the words. I could tell him I can’t meet him in Germany, but I haven’t invented a good reason why. So instead of doing any of that, I ask, “How was the flight?” My voice is soft. I don’t want to wake Mark, but I fail. He turns over in the bed toward me. My eyes meet his. He never closed his drapes after we collapsed into bed, so his eyes glow from the reflection of the lights outside.
“Long. I watched three movies.”
“Which ones?”
Mark’s hand comes up over my bare breast and he massages it before pinching the peak between his fingers. I bat his hand away and give him a look that clearly says to stop, but it just spurs him on. I pull the she
et up over my chest, but he flips the covers off us and starts to crawl down the bed.
I suppose if I wanted him to stop, I could get out of bed. But I don’t.
Brian launches into some description of the movies he watched, going on and on about each of them as he tells me which one he liked best.
Instead of listening to the words coming out of the mouth of the man on the phone, I’m focused solely on the man in the bed with me. He settles between my legs, pushing them apart with his hands, and then he runs one of those talented fingers through me.
I lean back into my pillow, pressing my lips together to keep from crying out. He replaces his finger with his tongue, and my hips jerk toward him.
I’m listening to the voice of one brother through the phone while the other licks his way through my body. He’s slow and deliberate with his mouth, lavishing me and cherishing me. He rubs his tongue against me and adds a finger.
The line goes quiet in my ear, but I hardly notice. He might’ve asked a question, or he might be waiting for a response. I pull the edge of the pillow into my mouth so I have something to bite down on to help alleviate the pressure building inside me.
“Hello?”
His voice comes back through the phone.
“Reese? You still there?”
I don’t trust myself to speak. Mark thrusts his finger harder into me and flattens his tongue. I nearly cry out from the intensity of it.
“Did you fall asleep, sweetheart?”
He adds a second finger, and I clench my teeth around the pillow as I bury my free hand in Mark’s hair, pulling his face more tightly against me.
“Dammit. I think we have a bad connection. Can you hear me?” I hear some rustling over the phone. “I’ll call you in a few hours. If you can hear me, I love you.”
The line goes quiet, and my phone makes a noise to let me know the call ended. I drop the phone on the floor beside me and give into the pleasure I’m receiving down below, finally letting go of the pillow wedged between my teeth and letting out a series of gasps and yelps as he drives me closer to a climax. When the rush hits me, it hits me hard. I squeeze his face between my legs and my body clamps down on his fingers. He doesn’t miss a beat despite the assault from my legs. His tongue keeps working and his fingers keep moving, drawing out the intensity of my orgasm until I can’t be bothered to move except for the aftershocks racing through my body.
He slides up the bed and we both fall back asleep for a few more hours.
When I wake up, the bed beside me is empty and my cell phone is on the nightstand instead of the floor where I dropped it a few hours ago. I pull on the clothes I came here in.
Part of me wonders if I’ll run into Jason or Becker, but it’s after nine now. Surely they’ll both be at the office. I peek around the corner to make sure he’s alone, and I see him sitting at the kitchen table by himself, tapping away on a laptop as he sips a cup of coffee.
He’s wearing black framed glasses I’ve never seen before and I stand and study him for a beat. He looks sexy and intelligent. If not for the tattoos snaking their way along his arms, I’d think he looks more like a businessman than a rock star. My heart wavers, and I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or a bad one. He’s sexy as sin sitting there, but seeing him in glasses I didn’t know he wore is a stark reminder that I don’t know him all that well. I’m planning to give up something I’ve spent the better part of the last couple months building into a sanctuary that I know well for someone whose public image I’m more familiar with—a public image that’s mostly fabricated by his publicist.
Another reminder how little I know about the real man.
He glances up at me. “Good morning,” he says, breaking into my thoughts.
I give an awkward little wave, and he smiles at me and takes off his glasses, setting them on the table next to his laptop. He motions for me to come closer.
“I like the glasses,” I say.
He pulls my hand and I fall onto his lap. He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “They get in the way.”
“Of kisses?”
“Sometimes. Depends how intense the kiss is.”
“Yours are usually pretty intense.”
His lips tip up. “As are yours.”
“Do you wear contacts?”
He shakes his head. “No. I had that eye surgery a few years ago. I just wear glasses for reading. And sometimes I just squint.”
“How old are you, like fifty?”
He laughs. “Thirty-four. Thirty-five in a few weeks.”
“God, you’re old.”
“How old are you?”
“You’re not supposed to ask a lady her age.”
“Show me a lady and I won’t ask.”
I punch him lightly in the arm, and he holds the spot dramatically like I hurt him.
“Twenty-seven.”
“So when you were a freshman in high school, I was…” He trails off as he thinks. “Landing my first record deal?”
“Nice math, old man. Good thing we didn’t meet back then.”
“I’d have waited until you were eighteen. Then I would’ve lit up your whole world.”
“You manage to do a pretty solid job of that now.”
He chuckles. “Come with me. I leave in an hour. We’ll stay at my place in LA tonight and come back here sometime tomorrow.”
I look past him out the window. “I shouldn’t.”
“Yes, you should.”
“Okay.”
He laughs, and it’s a hearty, lovely sound. “Okay?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
“I don’t have to convince you?”
“I was already convinced. It just feels like I should put up a fight.”
“Because of Brian?” he asks, his voice low.
“What are we doing to him, Mark?”
He’s quiet for a beat, and then he says, “We’re not doing it to hurt him.”
I stand and saunter over toward the refrigerator. “I know, but that’ll be the end result. You want scrambled eggs and toast?”
“Yeah. Want me to make the eggs?”
“You do make the best scrambled eggs ever.”
He chuckles. “Ninja level.”
We both set to work.
“How did you meet my brother?” He cracks eggs open into a bowl.
I pause at his question, surprised he’s bringing up Brian over breakfast. I think about that morning I ran into him when I was leaving Mark’s place, but I don’t think of that as the day we met. We didn’t even exchange names. “I had to beg his company for a donation for the fall fundraiser at my school, though I did run into him that morning I left your place.”
“You did?”
I nod. “But I didn’t know he was your brother until that night your sister was here and you had that party.”
We leave it at that. We change the subject because talk of Brian is both awkward and dangerous. He’s a reality we have to face. Breaking up with him won’t be easy, but when he sees me with Mark…that’ll be downright anguish for all of us.
He asks me more about the fall fundraiser, and I fill him in on the details. When we’re done eating, we head back to my place so I can pack an overnight bag, and then we’re on our way to Los Angeles.
*
What is this life?
I’m just a normal girl, a schoolteacher originally from Phoenix, but suddenly I find myself staring out the window of a chauffeured car at Mark Ashton’s private jet. The tail is decorated with the Vail logo, the same design I’ve spotted on countless albums, t-shirts, articles, and websites.
Sal and the Yukon drop us off at McCarran Airport’s private jetway. Vinny gets out of the front seat and boards the plane first, then Mark leads me up the steps.
The very front of the plane has four seats which appear to be for the crew, and I let out an audible gasp when I step past the heavy curtain dividing those seats from the rest of the plane. A couch lines one wall. On the other side, two sets of leather recliners
face each other with a table between them. A divider wall with a door separates the main living area from something in the back, and my curiosity burns to know what’s on the other side of it. I don’t know much about planes, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal.
“Mr. Ashton, good to see you again, sir.” The captain tips his cap in our direction.
“Hey, Tom. Good weather today?”
Tom nods and gives us both a reassuring smile. “Perfect for flying. Beth will be joining us today.”
A slender and pretty blonde woman steps out of the cockpit. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ashton.” Her eyes edge over to me.
“This is Reese,” he says. I glance over at him. He looks like he wants to add more, but he stops himself. How’s he supposed to introduce me, anyway? As his brother’s girlfriend?
Because that’s what I am, I remind myself. For now.
Beth gives me a tight smile. “Nice to meet you.” Her words feel forced. “Anything I can get for either of you?”
Mark looks at me. A double shot of vodka doesn’t sound bad. What the hell am I doing?
Reality plunges into me. I’m going to another state on a private jet with a man who isn’t my boyfriend. My mouth suddenly dries as I realize the gravity of our situation.
What if Brian finds out before I get the chance to tell him? Does Beth know Brian? Does Tom? How can I be sure people won’t talk, that gossip won’t get back to Brian somehow?
I remind myself that I’m nobody. No one in Mark’s world knows who I am. No one knows I’m dating Brian.
But if Brian finds out from someone other than me…well, I suppose I’d deserve it. Karma is going to come back and get me, I just know it. I don’t deserve happiness. I don’t deserve Mark or Brian. Yet here I am.
“Some water, please,” I croak.
“Make it two, Beth,” Mark says.
She scampers around a divider wall to get our drinks.
Vinny passes by us and takes a seat in the crew area at the front of the plane.
“You okay?” Mark asks me.
I lift a shoulder and wander over to one of the leather recliners. I plop down and sink into the plush leather. My stomach suddenly hurts as guilt twists through me.