by Maggie Marr
David knew the ins and outs of the music business as well as anyone, which, normally, I would think was a good thing, but it could also be bad. He knew the company’s weaknesses; he knew right now I needed money. His offer was fair, just above market value, but was it the best thing for Left Coast? Was selling controlling interest of the label the best thing for me?
He was the guy on whom I’d learned to try and make Left Coast a winner again, the guy on whom I’d depended. He was like an older brother and I couldn’t imagine being in this mess without him by my side as a colleague and an advisor.
I slipped out of my office and stopped at my assistant’s desk, who’d left early today. On her desk was the cover for Rhett’s album. I stopped. He was so fucking hot. The memory of his lips on my body, his lips pulling my nipple into his mouth, his lips on my sex, flooded my mind, and I closed my eyes and sank into the feeling. My toes curled and tingles shot through my body.
He was a drug and I needed another hit. Fuck. I wanted him. My nipples pebbled beneath my shirt. My phone interrupted my memories of pleasure. I snapped out of the fantasy.
“This is Tasha.”
“I always like it when you sound a little breathless.”
I smiled. This voice, this voice had made millions of dollars for my company. “You sound a whole lot better than the last time we talked.”
“I can’t remember a damn fucking thing? Did I call you?”
“Mmhmm. You were looking for Rhett. Something about a redhead from Vancouver.”
“Ahh, yes,” Johnny said. A smile lit up his voice. “That was a lovely little excursion. He owes me though,” Johnny said. “Last time, Rhett was able to take care of her needs.”
My throat tightened and I took a long breath and willed the feelings of jealousy that clamped my chest out of my voice.
“Right, so you sound better. What do you need?” I slid my laptop into my bag and did one final check of my office.
“Come to dinner with me,” Johnny said. “There’s something we need to discuss.”
“I have to meet Bobbie at Lola’s in an hour. I want to see a new act.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“And create a mob? Not a good idea.”
“Come on Tash, it’s business. Business about your new little rocker boy and him fronting my tour. Let’s discuss this.”
My heart hammered in my chest. Of course I could force Johnny to take Rhett as an opening act, but forcing Johnny to do anything was damned unpleasant. He didn’t do well with authority or restrictions. But here he was on the other end of the phone asking me to talk to him about Rhett touring with him. Of course I had to say yes. Not only for my job as President of Left Coast, but because I wanted Rhett to do well. My heart kicked up a beat and I thought about our nights together and his lips on my body and his hands, those damn talented hands stroking my body.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you in fifteen. Where?”
“Babe, it’s Wednesday night. Where else would I go?”
If nothing else, Johnny was a creature of habit, and his mid-week habit wasn’t one I enjoyed, but he was one of Left Coast’s big stars and he had agreed to take an unproven debut act out on the road. Plus, I was into him for two million. I didn’t really have much negotiation leverage here. If Johnny wanted to go to dinner on the moon tonight, I’d pretty much have to say yes.
“Ok,” I said. “Same place?”
“Always, Babe, always.”
Rhett
4Play was a bit swankier than what I was expecting. This strip club had been Sterling’s choice. I would have gone with the down-’n’-dirty Seventh Veil on Sunset, but Sterling had chosen this spot and, since he was paying for the car, I let it ride.
“The women in our lives would be pissed if they knew what we were doing,” Sterling said. He relaxed into an oversized chair and leaned back. We both stared at the girl onstage. She wore nothing but a g-string and her body was plastered to a brass pole.
“Strip bars,” I said and held out a shot of Jameson to Sterling. “The only place left where a man can get away from the women in his life.”
“Oh, the irony,” Sterling said.
We both threw back our shots and then turned back to the blonde. Thanks to gravity, her hair and her tits dangled toward the floor. She held onto the pole upside down with her leg hooked around the metal.
“Women are absolutely fucking amazing,” I said. “Really, the female body is a vision to behold. You’re ready to settle down with just one?” My eyes never left the blonde.
“Yeah,” Sterling said. “For Rhiannon, I can settle down. I’ve waited my entire life for her. She means everything to me. You ever felt like that?”
The stripper’s tits jiggled as she came down off the pole. She walked to the edge of the stage and squatted in front of us. A wicked smile curved up over my mouth. I slid a five into her g-string and Sterling did the same with a twenty. Women. I fucking loved women. Could I ever just contain myself to one? Hadn’t I made that exact promise?
“Maybe,” I said. “Fuck, yeah,” I turned to Sterling and took a long slug of my beer. “For the right one, I could.”
“When it’s the right one, you’ll do anything to keep her.”
How did Sterling know that Rhiannon was the right one? How would I know? Was it when you woke up thinking about that person and went to sleep thinking about that person? Was it because even the things that drove you nuts about that person were still the things you wanted in your life? Or maybe needed?
A shot of anxiety pulsed in my belly as my eyes remained locked on the blonde in front of me.
Tasha.
Tasha made me feel and say and do and be a person that I never even knew existed within me. Fuck. She was the right one. How could I ever hope to not completely fuck up what was going on between us? The stripper walked across the stage and slid into the splits. The idea of being the type of man Tasha deserved overwhelmed me, but something inside of me needed to try. Our server dropped off another round of Jameson and both Sterling and I upended our shots.
Sterling slammed the shot glass onto the table. “I saw Dad yesterday,” Sterling said.
“You two are speaking? Didn’t he fire your ass not long ago?”
Sterling stiffened but his eyes didn’t burn with anger at me. “I’ve decided to like you,” Sterling said. “Not just for me, but for Amanda and my other sisters who I am really starting to enjoy. Plus Rhiannon is on the same kick as Amanda. They all want us to be one big happy family. So I’m going to take all the bullshit you say as simply that, bullshit, between brothers. Got it?”
I smiled. “Got it.” I couldn’t admit it to Sterling, but I’d always wanted a brother. Of course if I’d gotten to choose I would have selected a younger brother, but I wanted a brother for sure.
“So, as I was saying,” Sterling continued, “I spoke to Dad the other day and he said he thought you should release your album under the Legend name.”
“Must be his lucky day,” I said. “I am releasing the album under the Legend name.”
Sterling’s eyes widened. “Seriously? I’m shocked. I never thought you’d ever willingly fess up to being a Legend. Thought the press or the papps would have to beat it out of you.”
“Sophia already uses the Legend name and Ellen isn’t keeping it a secret. So how long before everyone figures it out? Besides, Tasha asked me to use the Legend name for the album’s release. She thinks it’ll help sales.”
“The name will help sales,” Sterling said. “I mean, I hate to admit it, but that fucking name gets people interested. People want to know what’s going on with us. I’m sure the album is great without the name, but putting Legend on it will definitely bump up sales. People will listen because they’re curious, and then they’ll buy it because the music is awesome. Then you’ll have a fan for life. Right?”
“That’s the theory.” I hoped it played out that way, not only for all the money, but for Tasha and Left Coast too. She nee
ded to break a debut artist, to prove to herself and to the business that she’d inherited her father’s talent. Plus Left Coast was hurting for cash .“Wait, you think my music is awesome?”
The muscle in Sterling’s jaw flinched as though he’d just made a painful admission. “Yeah,” he said, his gaze leveled on me. “I think you’ve got a ton of talent. Your voice rocks, and the music is awesome.”
I smiled. The ice around my heart thawed a little. My big brother had just given me a compliment.
“I was thinking of talking with your manager about you doing the soundtrack for The Lady’s Regret.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Sterling said. “That is, if today went well.”
“And has it?”
“Pretty good so far, right? Food, booze, naked women, no fistfights, I’m thinking after what went down at the wedding, today can be considered a win on the Legend Brothers front.”
The blonde surrendered the stage and a brunette strutted out to the pole. “Paradise City,” Guns and Roses circa 1987, blasted through the speakers. She started with a nice split action and then lifted herself up the pole with her legs spread. Sexy stuff. Hot girl. And yet all I could think of was being with Tasha.
“There’s a drop party,” I said. My gaze was still glued to her tits, nice big and round, tits I usually loved, but instead, in my head, I compared them to Tasha’s perky pair that tasted like sugar. I wanted Tasha’s tits, I wanted them now. “You and Rhiannon should come. They’re having it at The Quixote.”
“We’ll be there,” Sterling said. “You should come by set,” he added. “Especially if you’re doing the soundtrack.”
“As a kid, going to set was one of the things I wanted to always do. We even went once, you might remember,” I said. “Mom brought me and the girls when Dad was filming The Legend Fights. Mom took a full fucking month to coach us on how to behave. To call Dad ‘Mr. Legend.’ How we had to act like he was her boss and not our dad. She fucking drilled us for days on every possible scenario that we might get hit with.” The brunette strutted across the stage and her tits jiggled. “So finally after all that bullshit, she drives us down to Burbank and we pull onto the lot. I mean, I’m fucking stoked! I get to see Dad in action. Even if no one knows he’s my dad, I know he’s my dad. We park. We walk to set. And then the shit starts.”
“What happened?”
“You.” I took a long pull of my beer. “You and Amanda and Joanne. We were trapped; your mom had already seen my mom and she called us over. The three of us kids had to stand there and watch you climb all over Dad and we had to pretend that we hardly knew him. You’re calling him Dad and Amanda is calling him Daddy and he’s giving you two hugs and talking to you and introducing you around the set. But us?” I shook my head.
This memory was fucking painful. Why was it coming up now? “Me and the girls had to pretend we were just the housekeeper’s kids. I think that might have been the first day when I really understood what was going on. How different our lives were from yours. It’s the first day that I started to hate you, too.”
“That sucks,” Sterling said.
“Yeah, it did,” I said. “But it wasn’t our fault or Amanda’s fault or even yours. Really, none of that shit can be blamed on anyone except Dad … and maybe our mothers.”
“Right,” Sterling said. “What were they thinking?”
“Not what were they thinking, what was Dad thinking? Actually, I know what Dad was thinking. And I know what part of his anatomy he was using to think with. Just fuck though, right, totally fucked-up shit? To make a promise, a commitment to one woman, and still be making a family with another. Why? Why not just bust loose and do whatever the fuck you want?”
“Maybe he thought his way was easier,” Sterling said.
“Yeah, and maybe it was easier since no one seemed to make it difficult. Easier for him, but hell for everyone else. Especially once all of us found out.”
The brunette threw her head back and her tits bounced in the air. While my eyes locked onto her nipples and I appreciated her lush curves, all I could see was Tasha. All I wanted to see was Tasha. Would my desire for Tasha last? I was a Legend and based on Dad, that meant multiple women all the time.
“Lap dance?” The blonde with the gigantic ta-tas purred at us. While the idea of her straddling my crotch and rolling her hips around me was enticing, I wasn’t quite feeling it.
“Not for me, beautiful,” Sterling said.
“Think I’ll pass, too,” I said. While the girl’s body was smoking hot, there was another body I’d rather have clinging to my crotch. The stripper leaned forward and those gorgeous tits were inches from my face.
“Come on, baby, it’ll feel good.” She ran her hand over her thigh and let her hips roll in a motion that normally would have me planting her on my lap. Not a good decision.
“Babe, you got all of it going on, but I’m here with my brother and it just doesn’t seem right.”
“Wait,” the blonde said and pouted. “Aren’t you that big new musician everyone is talking about?”
I smiled. This woman was my first stranger recognition. A stripper. A couple of months ago this would have been my dream.
“You’re Rhett Legend!” She leaned closer and lifted her leg so that she was now standing above my lap. “Baby, this one is on me. I have got to be able to tell people about this. You’re the next big thing.”
I settled back into the chair and looked up at the gorgeous piece of flesh above me. Who was I to deny this lovely lady her big story? How could I argue with a free lap dance? How could any man? I took a long slug of my beer and slid down in my chair.
“I’m Brielle.” The honey straddled me. I was hard. A natural reaction that couldn’t be changed, but while I appreciated her body and her mouth, my head and my body couldn’t relax. The comparisons in my head were to Tasha.
Damn. Tasha’s hooks were in deep.
As the girlie ground and rode me and flipped her hair over her shoulder, visuals of Tasha floated through my mind. Tasha’s long amber locks, deep blue-green eyes, and the way her lips quivered just before she came.
My gaze slid to my right. Sterling sat beside me. A black-haired beauty in a red g-string walked over and leaned her titties toward his face. He shook her off. Impressive. Not many men could wave off an offered titty, especially one that looked that good. He was plowed, and relaxed, but he was most definitely in love with Rhiannon. Was that what love meant? Being able to forgo immediate self-gratification for the benefit of not just yourself but another? Fuck if I knew. By that definition I’d never been in love … and neither had our father. The bastard.
“In case you’re interested in partying,” Brielle purred near my ear, “I’m off at midnight.”
Less than a month ago I would have been very interested. She had all the right curves, all the right moves, and a hint of desperation. My type of girl. Love this little lady and leave her. We would have our fun for a while and then say our good-byes.
“Thanks, babe,” I said. “Not tonight.”
She made a sad face at me but continued to roll her hips across my lap. I closed my eyes, settled into the sensation and visualized the woman I really wanted rolling on my lap. I visualized Tash. With her high round tits and the curve at her waist. Those lips that said the sharpest things and also wrapped around me and pulled me deep into her mouth.
“You bastard, this is where you are? I had to fuck a redhead for you.”
I opened my eyes toward the voice that fans loved, and that belonged to a guy who could be my buddy if he hadn’t dated my girlfriend before me.
The rocking on my lap stopped.
“Hey, Johnny, good to see you,” Brielle said.
“This is your Wednesday spot?” He’d mentioned that Wednesday was ladies’ night, but I hadn’t gotten details. In Johnny Tucker’s life it seemed every night was ladies’ night. I turned to him with a sharp grin on my face.
My heart lurched and t
he smile left my face. Fuck. Tasha.
Her face was like stone, with a professional you-can’t-show-me-anything-I-haven’t-seen smile. But Tasha’s eyes … I could read the emotion in her eyes now. I could spot her feelings on the edges of her lips. Around her cherry-red lips was pain and anger, and then there was also an I-knew-this-would-happen look in her eyes.
“Seems you boys are busy tonight,” Tasha said. Her voice was smooth, and anyone who didn’t really know her would never hear the anger that slid beneath the surface. Johnny cocked an eyebrow. He knew Tasha. His gaze slide from me to Tasha and back. The corner of his mouth lifted a millimeter.
Shit. How was I going to get myself out of this without looking like a sap to Johnny and a total dick to Tasha? I was between the proverbial rock and hard place. I’d gathered, in the time that I’d spent with Johnny, that he still loved Tasha Jones. He might always love Tasha. Granted, he understood why they couldn’t be together. He’d spent an entire drunken night at the Chateau telling me why a relationship between him and Tasha would never work, but he also took some sort of twisted pleasure in being the last musician that Tasha had ever dated.
“Brielle here is the bomb,” Johnny said. “Nobody can rock a cock harder.”
“Good to know,” Tasha said, maintaining her composure.
Brielle did one last thrust against me. My lack of interest stunned me. Then she slid from my lap and took her place at Johnny’s side. I sat up.
“Worth it?” Sterling asked. His slick smile let me know that he realized something was brewing between me and Tasha. He slugged back his drink.
No, it wasn’t fucking worth it. Especially when all I could think about was Tasha. Now she stood beside me, her face without emotion, but her eyes filled with pain.
“Johnny, the table is ready, and Billie just texted to say she’s nearly here,” Tasha said. Her eyes swept over Sterling and me. She gave us both her executive smile. “See you later,” she said and tossed us a wave. Her gaze barely locked with mine. As though I hadn’t just spent every night of the last four weeks fucking her senseless, or hearing her gasp my name as she came, or watching her body writhe with my touch.