by C. L. Riley
“How would that work?” I ask instead.
“We’d show your reaction to Shag and Lila’s kiss and you running off. Brian Seacrest would extend a backstage pass to you, adding you to the remaining contestants. The audience could then vote for you, as could Shag and the judges.”
I can’t help myself. He knows I’m aware of the voting scheme. “You can’t be serious. I haven’t forgotten you control the final votes. The fans aren’t the ones picking the winner, you are. Right?”
“What if I promised to leave it up to the public from this point forward, no matter what the results? Would that change things?”
“Shag?” I turn to look at him.
“Personally, babe. I want you in there. You’ve won my vote.”
“Fine. I’ll play,” I concede with a smile, eager to make Masters look like the fool he is.
“Fantastic!”
“I need to call my dad, though. I don’t want him to see this without a warning.”
That’s right, Mr. Big Shot Director, explain why I can’t call home.
“That might be a problem. We’re working on things, but if you haven’t noticed, there have been some technical issues with global communication.”
All I can do is nod. If I open my mouth, I’m going communicate very concisely my opinion about his blatant lie. The good news: his reaction is evidence William did not inform him about our recent conversation, and I can’t help but think Jagger has been giving us some added privacy. Masters is obviously unaware of our patio discussion with Omar and William.
Sensing my struggle to stay calm, Shag gives my knee a warning squeeze.
“Well, you need to figure it out. I’m sure he’s worried,” I add for good measure.
“I’ll see what I can do. I don’t want family upset with me,” he says, sounding sincere. If I didn’t know better, I would have believed him.
Once we’re back inside the villa, I head straight for my bathroom, Shag on my heels.
I shut the door and turn to him. “I don’t care what Jagger says. Our sex life is our sex life. I say we bore the audience to sleep.”
Shag cocks his head and gives me his best puppy dog face. “But I want sex.”
Giggling, I yank off my top. “I never said anything about not having sex, only that the world doesn’t need to watch. Crap. I wonder how much they can actually show. Have they seen everything we’ve done?”
“Babe, I’m pretty sure they can show all of it on the webisode. Cable isn’t far behind. And you know me, I’m a kinky fuck. I don’t like the idea of other men seeing what’s mine, but the other part of me kind of gets off on showing you off. We’re pretty fucking hot together. Let’s watch one of the episodes and see what the viewers get to see at home.”
The bathroom is huge; its counter long. We hop up and sit on it, leaning our backs against the mirror. It takes only a few seconds to find link after link to all things Roping a Rock-Star. Photos, commentaries, and anything else you can imagine about our program is a mouse click or screen tap away. We are by far the hottest thing trending.
As someone who avoids being center stage, I’ve been thrust into a role I never wanted, but over the past two weeks, here on Jagger’s island, I have come to accept that as Shag’s other half I will be on the stage of public opinion. There is no way around it. Shag is a celebrity like no other. He makes people want to know more. As much as I first disliked him, I’d always been interested in his life. Now that I love him, I understand how much more there is to him, far more than I ever believed. His love for lighthouses is one thing I’m still shocked by.
It hits me, we’ve never truly said, in all seriousness, ‘I love you’ to each other.
Maybe it’s time.
“Shag…?”
“Just a minute. Almost got us signed up as official Roping a Rock-Star subscribers.”
“Stop. Look at me, please.”
He lowers his phone and turns his chocolate eyes on me. “Uh oh. You sound serious. Are you going to slap me again?”
How can I not laugh at that?
Regaining control, I continue, “Do I need to slap you again? Wait. Don’t answer. I need to say this. Shag Steal, I love you. As you would say: I fucking love you.”
His eyes widen and his hand curls around my neck, pulling my mouth to his. The kiss is gentle and sweet and surprisingly short.
“And I fucking love you, Cadie O’Shea. You’re it for me. I think I knew it that first night when you were ignoring me from the front row. From that moment forward, my mind was stuck on you alone. Yeah, I tried to fight it. You can see how well that worked out. Can’t fight fate.”
This time it is me who instigates the kiss. When we finally break apart, he slides off the counter and pushes my legs apart, taking up residence between them. Planting his palms on the mirror, caging me in between his big arms, he says the sweetest thing.
“I don’t wanna watch our tapes yet. I want to be in the moment. This moment. In you. I want your legs around my back and your arms around my neck while I show you just how much I fucking love you.”
My rock-star knows what I need to hear. That was it.
We make quick work of removing our clothes. Kissing, grabbing, and panting. At last we’re both naked and my legs are where he wants them; my arms are around his neck; his tongue is tangled with mine; and his cock is buried in my pussy.
Yanking me to the counter’s edge, he lifts me up, spinning us around, and pushing my back against the nearest wall, making me shudder. He fucks me like that, right against the bathroom wall, hard, deep, and fast. I cling to him, letting him thrust into me like a pile driver, breaking concrete.
I shatter around him, screaming his name when I come.
Spreading my ass cheeks wider, he lifts me up, moving me like I weigh nothing. He plows into me, hips pistoning.
He bites on my neck and sucks, erupting inside me, filling my womb. My own orgasm has me quaking in his arms. I don’t know if it’s one long climax or a second one on the heels of the first. What I do know is I’m ready to pass out from pleasure.
“Fuck, Cadie Cat. I think I gave you a hickey. Didn’t mean to go all vampire.”
Releasing my legs, I slide down and land unsteadily on my feet. “Good, I’ll show it off for the cameras tomorrow.”
“How about tonight? There’s no way I’m dragging those clothes back on. I’m gonna pick your sexy ass up and carry you to bed. I’m sure the sound equipment picked up some of our…”
I kiss him quiet. “Fine. Take me to bed, handsome.”
After a quick rinse in the shower, Shag does exactly what he promised. He carries me across the room, naked and proud; giving our viewers what I believe is the final peek into our sex life.
I’m not sure how Jagger expects things to go down tomorrow, but enough is enough. This programming is about to be terminated. Bonuses be damned. I won’t put a price on my love for Shag.
* * *
Shag
I wake up desperate to feel Cadie’s silky skin pressed against me. Last night’s words play through my mind: I love you, Shag Steal.
Love you too, babe.
I’m rock hard and want to slide into her slick heat and show her just how much I love her. Instead, I force an eyelid up; what I felt was missing is confirmed. Cadie is gone. In her place, on her pillow, is a note.
Meet us for breakfast, on the patio.
Us?
Who is us?
Following a quick rinse in the shower, I pull on a pair of jeans and find a clean button down shirt, leaving it open, exposing my tattooed chest and torso. Our guests better not expect a formal appearance. I’m not in the mood. My morning alone-time with my girl was interrupted. Something I don’t appreciate. Someone has some explaining to do.
I step out the double glass doors and the first thing I notice is the crowd. I knew they were coming but this isn’t how I envisioned our first meeting.
A second table has been brought in from somewhere and is set up next
to our usual one. My band mates are around the new table, Chloe in tow. My mom and Cadie’s dad are seated with her and Jagger at the other table. Omar and Jace lean against the rock wall, surveying the scene. Drew and Bo are out in the yard, guarding us, I guess, while propped in two lawn chairs, plates in hand.
Chloe spots me first and smiles and then waves.
What the hell?
I get it. She’s smiles and giggles, imagining my demise. She’s hoping she will witness my ultimate fall from grace live rather than on TV or her computer. Won’t she be surprised when it is her that falls?
Jagger told us to act natural, so I give her my best sneer and glare combination. She wilts in her seat and stares down at her hands. Slyder notices but does nothing to provide comfort.
There’s an empty place setting and chair by Cadie. I greet my band first, feeling oddly uncomfortable around them. I break away quickly and then move to join her. I’m not sure if this is all part of ‘the plan’ or what, and I have no idea how to act.
“Good morning.” Cadie smiles. She looks radiant, dressed in flowing floral blouse and white capris, her hair down.
Giving her a grin and wink, I look down at my plate. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a scone; someone has been busy this morning. Cadie hates to cook, so I doubt it was her. Our surprise chef appears from the same doors I just walked through, shocking me.
“Everyone like the food?” Robin asks, some strange guy peering over her shoulder.
The affirmative responses are unanimous.
“Delicious,” Jagger adds. “May I help in some way?”
Robin tilts her head. “You sitting there and enjoying my cooking helps.”
Oh hell. Jagger’s got his hands full with this one. I wonder if he kissed her hand too. I glance his way and am surprised to see his face is flushed. Oh double hell. It’s another love connection, but who is the dude behind her?
Cadie stands up. “You all know my best friend, Robin. That character behind her is the other BFF, Josh. And don’t let Robin fool you. Josh is the real chef.”
I guess I missed a few things when I was lost in dreamland. My girl and her friend must have put their differences aside and decided to move forward. Thank God. I’ll never admit it, but I was getting burned out listening to Cadie complain about her former friend. From what I can see, Robin is sober. Granted it’s early, but that never mattered before…another good sign.
“Cadie,” Robin scolds. “Now Mr. Hewitt knows I can’t cook.”
Jagger laughs. “Mr. Hewitt can hire his own cook. I’d rather have a pretty lady to enjoy the meal with.”
“Oooooh…,” the twins’ chorus, making me feel more at home. These are my people. My band. There is no reason for me to be all jumpy.
That’s not exactly true. I am operating by the seat of my pants right now, unsure what’s coming next. Worse, everyone has probably witnessed me and Cadie working away on our shagging numbers. I fucking hope our parents didn’t watch. Just the thought makes me ill. Maybe they felt the same and avoided the hype.
What number was last night anyway? Thirty-nine or Forty?
Robin and Josh deliver more food before taking the last two empty seats at my table.
Jagger stands. “Good morning and welcome to my corner of the Caribbean. Sorry about the inclement weather last night. We get an occasional storm, but we are free and clear now, and you’re all here safe and sound.
Mr. O’Shea was worried about his daughter, understandably, and reached out to me via an email. Shortly after, Shag’s mother did the same. Naturally, I can’t have worried family and friends upset with me. Crude Element was due to arrive in two days, so I thought, why not get everyone here at once.”
Stix makes his approval known, “Great idea, Mr. Hewitt. Must be the reason you own an island and I play drums.”
Jagger chuckles. “I hope you’re not insinuating that being a drummer isn’t important. Music is a passion of mine, but I am nothing but a wannabe rock-star. No amount of money could make me a musician.”
A gold golf cart catches everyone’s attention as it races across the villa’s freshly mowed grass; the whirring sound it makes precedes its arrival. Calvin Masters, Simon Crabs, and good ole’ boy, William, are its sole passengers. I can’t wait to see what brings the director, main producer, and Rogue Beat Records’ future CEO to our gathering.
I have a good idea. The games have begun.
Masters is the first through the gate. “What’s going on here? Who are all these people and who authorized them to land?”
Jagger Hewitt motions the three newest arrivals closer. “Why don’t you pull up a chair? There is plenty to go around.”
“Did you authorize this, Hewitt?” Masters demands, ignoring his offer to sit and eat.
“And if I did that wouldn’t be an issue now would it, considering I own this island and control who can or cannot enjoy its beauty.”
“We had an agreement. Perhaps we should talk about it in private,” Masters blusters, his face getting all splotchy.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. You can express your concerns here. We’re all friends; some of our visitors are family even.”
Masters finally takes the time to look over our diverse group. He visibly gulps when he spots Chloe. Simon Crabs has enough sense to stay quiet and takes a seat. William follows his example, accepting a plate from Josh. The producer sticks to coffee.
“Surprise visits are not something we discussed. There are privacy concerns with the show. I don’t need to spell it all out for you, do I?”
Cadie’s father clamors to his feet, pulling up my mom. “We have been trying to reach our children to share some good news. Had we been able to reach them by phone or email, we would have. Instead I had to email Mr. Hewitt, who generously offered to fly us out to see them. Kids, we’re married. We eloped. That’s what we’ve been so eager to tell you both.”
My mouth drops. Cadie’s fork clunks on her plate. Masters throws back his head and laughs, and Chloe has the nerve to shout:
“That is so gross! Now Shag and Cadie are brother and sister. They’ve been sleeping together.”
Cadie is out of her chair before I have a chance to stop her. She’s marches over to Chloe and yanks her out of her chair by the hair. “You little, conniving bitch. All you do is hurt other people. You have a wonderful husband, a baby, money, and it’s just not enough for you, is it? Let me help you answer.”
I snigger when Cadie maneuvers Chloe’s head, turning it side to side.
“No. That’s true. It isn’t enough. You have to tear down everyone else, don’t you?”
Again, Cadie tugs Chloe’s head, this time up and down.
“Yes, I thought so. Let me tell you something. Shag and I will never be brother and sister. We don’t share blood. We started dating before we ever knew our parents had met. And, because of that last reason, we didn’t grow up together. As long as we don’t get married, it’s not illegal and it isn’t immoral.”
Cadie releases Chloe’s hair.
Crying, Chloe collapses into her chair and turns to Slyder for support.
Slyder raises his palms and scoots his chair away from her.
Her whole expression changes, and for the first time in my life, I almost feel sorry for her. Her shoulders slump and her bottom lip quivers. More tears follow, but no one moves to offer comfort.
“Sorry about that, everyone. Didn’t mean to get out of hand,” Cadie says, her voice trembling. “Dad, Regina, congratulations. I’m so happy for both of you. I hope you can be happy for us.”
“No!” Masters interrupts. “You promised to be the wildcard. This contest isn’t over yet. We still have another two weeks of taping.” Our director looks like he’s about to join Chloe in the cry-baby corner.
I hope like hell Jagger has this all taping.
Cadie hugs her father and my mom, motioning for me to join her.
They embrace us both, and my mom whispers, “We’re not getting married. I love thi
s man. Marriage has always led to divorce for me, so this time, I’m trying something new. A long term, permanent relationship, without the vows.”
Not to be undone, her father adds, “We want you kids to be happy without any stigma. You don’t need that kind of judgment.”
“Really?” Cadie gives her dad a funny look, almost like she’s asking for his approval on some deeper level.
I realize then I don’t know anything about her parents, nothing significant about her mom or her family dynamics, growing up.
“Really honey. I’m so sorry. We’ll talk more later. Regina, should we go explore this paradise?” He makes sure the last question is heard by everyone.
They leave hand in hand at the same time another gold vehicle zips across the lawn.
“What are they doing here?” Masters shrieks. “What is going on?”
No one answers. Everyone is too busy watching the new arrivals climb off the cart and head toward us. They don’t bother coming into our patio area, parking themselves outside the wall.
“We heard there was a party?” Lila snips. “Oh good God. Chloe, what are you crying about?” She glances at Reggie who raises a brow. “I was in the middle of a private surfing lesson. Can someone please tell me why I’m here?”
My phone beeps. I glance down. It’s a text from Jace, instructing me to tell Lila she’s the next one off the show, and that because of our past relationship, I’m giving her a heads up.
“Lila, Rick, sorry to interrupt your lesson. I just want to let Lila know I will not be giving her another backstage pass.”
Simon Crabs finally speaks up. “You can’t just make a decision like that. There are other votes to consider.”
“I want her off. We’re never getting back together. Besides, even if I wanted to, it would be kind of hard.”
Lila has the nerve to ask, “What do you mean…hard?”
She really is a piece of work. “Lila, besides the fact I can’t stand you, there’s a slight problem. You’re already married.”
Masters lets out a tortured groan.