by Anna Edwards
Zoey gasps, the tears falling down her cheeks now. She turns the phone around to herself so those watching can see her.
“Or help those finding themselves drowning in debt and alcohol addiction like my mother. It’s the reason for Tate being here with me. I hope you’ll all forgive me for taking him away.”
I move to sit beside Zoey, and taking the phone off her, I hold it so I can see the comments. One message from Cameron catches my eye and has Zoey crying into my shoulder.
“I don’t know if you’re all reading the comments, but Cameron, Liam, and Austin have just said they’ll donate fifty percent of their proceeds as well. We’ll help as many people in America and the rest of the world as we can. Thank you guys, you don’t know how much this means to me and Zoey. Look out for more information on the Heidi Gordon Foundation for Addiction when we’ve sorted out the details.”
I’m exhausted, and I’m finding myself unable to properly focus on the screen, so I decide to end the live feed by saying, “I can see there are loads of other comments on here, and I’m sorry for not answering them. It’s been a long day and an emotional one in many ways. I’ll try to get on again tomorrow and respond to everything, but I’m going to get some sleep now. Thank you. Love you all.”
I end the live feed and place my phone down.
“I can’t believe you guys are doing this. It’s going to help so many people.” Zoey wraps her arms around me.
“It’s something I should have done a long time ago. It might have saved a few more people from suffering what we both have. I’ve hidden my head in the sand for long enough. I believe I’ve got fame for a reason, and I’m going to use it.”
“Fred making me your babysitter was the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“Same here. I know I fought against you at the start, but I’m glad you stood up to me.”
“Always.”
Our lips meet, and our bodies mold into one on the couch.
“A new life for both of us.” I stroke my hand over Zoey’s face and cup her chin.
“Together forever,” she replies with happiness sparkling in her eyes.
“I love you, Miss Danson.”
“I love you, Mr. Gordon.”
Chapter 29
Zoey
#ItsTimeToLetMyHairDownInLasVegas BecauseIGotMyHEA
Two weeks later in Las Vegas
I stand beside Tate on the stage as he finishes singing the song he wrote for me. I’ve got tears streaming down my face, and I must look a right mess on the big screens around us, but I don’t care. My mother’s doing well, and Tate and I are enthusiastically going forward with the foundation for addiction the band and I have set up. I’ve finally started living, and I’m beyond happy. My life couldn’t be more different from the way it was a few short months ago. A corner has been turned, and the real Zoey Danson has emerged.
Heart and soul combined,
Breath and air falling slowly,
Into a love eternal,
Always and forever we will be.
Tate sings the last chorus of the song, and then dropping his microphone, he walks over to me. He throws his arms around me and swings me in the air before putting me back down and giving me a full on kiss while the audience goes wild.
“Get a room,” Cameron moans into his microphone.
“Does anyone want to kiss me like that tonight?” Liam asks as he stands up from his drums, and the fans scream back at him. I think he’s got one or two thousand offers there.
Tate reluctantly lets go of me and picks up his microphone again. “You don’t get kisses like that, Liam, unless you love the woman with all your heart.”
I have to agree with Tate on that fact.
I wave to the audience as I leave the stage and let the band finish their sell-out concert in Las Vegas. It’s the first of three nights they’re playing here. We only arrived this morning from Seattle, and I’m already itching to explore Sin City. I’ve got a bug for traveling, and being the love of Tate’s life and his band’s babysitter means I’m going to get to do just that.
When I was in Seattle, I had a meeting with Fred and was appointed as Saving Tate’s full-time publicist with a substantial pay rise. I had expected to be fired, but instead, Fred sung my praises for ensuring the band made the main headlines for all the right reasons. I couldn’t have been happier, especially when Leo Nash started picking my brain for ideas for his band.
I have become a sought after commodity for the first time in my life. I don’t have to worry about money. I’ve moved in with Tate and insist on paying as much as I can toward the bills. It’s important to me, especially as when my mother is released she’ll be joining us.
We’ve redecorated the ‘granny annex’ as Tate keeps calling it, despite the fact I’m not planning on making my mother a granny anytime soon. The apartment looks fabulous, though. I’m excited for my mom to move into it. I’ll be able to look after her but also have my own life with Tate. It’s the perfect arrangement. And when we’re traveling, Tate’s parents live just down the road, so they’ll look after my mom for me. They helped us redecorate the apartment, and it helped Tate and them to patch up their relationship, following their argument in Paris. They’re all doing great, and his parents have even contributed to the foundation as well.
In a few weeks, the foundation will be ready to take on its first clients. Everything has happened so quickly, but I can already see how it will help those affected by addiction, and I’m more than happy with the way it’s progressing. Others won’t have to continue to suffer like Tate and I did for so long. There’s a way out for them, and I know every single person we help save will give me a sense of pride.
Life is perfect, and for the first time ever, I don’t fear anything’s going to destroy it. Happiness is always precarious, but a sense of calm has washed over me.
“Are you going to stand there daydreaming all day about the nasty things Tate will do to you later, or are you going to have your turn on the slots?” Austin asks as he slaps me on the back, bringing me out of my reflection.
We’re all enjoying an after-party in a casino on the strip. The guys have been putting a bit more money into the machines than me—I’m still frugal in that sense, but I have risked a couple of quarters.
“All right, Mr. Misery,” I respond and stick out my tongue at him. “Just because you haven’t been blessed with the luck of the Irish tonight doesn’t mean you have to be grumpy and impatient.”
Austin laughs his deep rumble.
“Don’t you worry about me having the luck of the Irish, Miss Danson. I may not have it on the slot machines tonight, but I’m sure to get it with a slot of a whole different kind later.” He winks at a scantily clad brunette who instantly comes over and drapes herself over him like a limpet. “That’s all the luck I need.”
“Yuck.” I pretend to vomit at his crude comment.
Saving Tate’s band members can be vulgar, but they are my vulgar lads, and I wouldn’t change them for anything.
“All of you be on your best behavior tonight. I’ve had a busy time lately, and I don’t need to be working overtime tomorrow to placate any rumors of misdemeanors.” I waggle my finger at the band like they’re naughty schoolboys. “I mean it.” This time, I raise my eyebrow to emphasize my point.
“Yes, Miss Danson,” Cameron, Liam, and Austin chant in unison while Tate shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Miss Danson. I can’t promise anything. I’ve got this hot little blonde I plan on getting into my bed later. I’m probably going to make her scream so loud it’ll keep the entire hotel awake all night. Can you deal with the aftermath of me having a night of wild sex?”
My entire body heats, and down below, my underwear feels decidedly damp.
“I could possibly be on board with it. It all depends on who the hot little blonde is.”
I wink at him, and he reaches forward and pulls me flush against his body. I can feel his hardness in his jeans.
&nbs
p; “I think you know her really well.”
Not caring we’re in a public place, Tate devours my mouth like he did on stage in front of thousands of fans tonight.
“I need another beer.” Liam groans.
“I think I’ll join you.” Cameron adds, “Why don’t you two lovebirds go fuck already? We’ll handle the party here.”
Tate pulls away from me.
“What do you say? Can we trust them to behave?”
“I think they’re suitably scared of me.” I lean into Tate’s ear and whisper, so only he can hear, “I’m so horny, if you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to go to the bathroom and use my fingers.”
Tate jumps from his chair and sweeps me up and throws me over his shoulder, caveman style.
“Night, losers.” He flips his bandmates off as he strides confidently across the casino floor.
Everybody leaps out of his way, not willing to interfere with a man on a mission. I scream and pat his back playfully, trying to get him to put me down, but he doesn’t until we reach the hotel room. He throws me onto the bed and steps back with his dark eyes sparkling with lust.
“Strip,” he orders.
I don’t move, playing the disobedient girlfriend.
He leans over me, licking his lips. “I said…strip.”
Under hooded eyes, I stare up at him, before slowly moving my hand to the hem of my t-shirt. It’s one of the purchases from my shopping trip with the boys, a sparkling silver, cut-off top, which displays my toned stomach.
“Faster,” Tate growls, but I don’t move any quicker.
Slowly, painfully so, I raise the t-shirt to reveal the gossamer silk of my bra. Tate’s patience finally breaks, and flipping me over, he pulls down the tight leather skirt I’m wearing and gives me two quick slaps to my backside. I cry out in pleasured pain.
As our confidence in each other has grown so has our adventurous nature in the bedroom, and indeed, in all the other rooms in Tate’s house we’ve chosen to christen.
“You’re a tease, Miss Danson. I’m so fucking hard, and you’re making it painful with this slow strip. I want all your clothes to hit the floor right now, so I can see your body. I want to see those tits bouncing and your pussy glistening. I want you ready for me to fuck with my dick until you scream my name as you come all over it.”
I turn over onto my back when Tate lets me go.
“You’re not only a genius with words for your songs, Mr. Gordon, but also a demon with a dirty mouth in the bedroom.”
“And this dirty mouth wants to feast on your pussy. So get naked before I remove the rest of your clothes myself,” he growls at me as he pulls his own t-shirt over his head.
I take a moment to appreciate his muscular physique covered in tattoos before doing as instructed. I remove all my clothes, leaving me naked before him and revealing the new tattoo I have on my hip—somewhere only Tate can see it unless I wear a bikini. It’s the quote from the sticker on the cover of my journal. The one Tate read the day he and I came to an accord about the fact I wasn’t going to be leaving the tour.
‘No matter what you look like on the outside, be confident the person on the inside is beautiful.’
It’s become my motto in life because even if Tate says the person on the outside is hot, it’s who I am on the inside that matters the most.
“Damn, I’m one lucky man.” Tate licks his lips and spreads my legs so he can get a better view of my pussy. “All mine, forever. I might write a song about licking you out. Do you think it’ll go platinum?”
“You better not.” I shake my head at him to warn him if he dares, I’m cutting access off to my pussy as punishment.
“Don’t worry, beautiful. I’m not going to make the other guys so jealous of my skills and your pussy that they can never give oral sex again.”
“I think Cameron would die if that happened.” I chuckle and then arch my back high off the bed as Tate licks the entire length of my slit before dipping his tongue inside me.
My head spins with unadulterated bliss. I’ve never felt so worshiped as when Tate is showering me with his love. He continues feasting on me like a man starved until my orgasm slams into me out of nowhere. I shudder with ecstasy as he kisses his way up my body and only stops to bring the buds of my nipples into hard peaks.
“God, I could do this with you forever, Zoey.”
“I plan on us doing it forever.”
“Even when I’m eighty and have to take Viagra to get it up?”
“Even when you have to take Viagra.” I laugh.
Tate flips me over onto my front and lifts me so I’m on all fours. He pulls my ass back, level with his groin, and I feel the head of his cock rub against my asshole before settling at the entrance to my core.
“What do you think about anal?” he asks, and I feel the tip of his finger circle my puckered hole.
“I think we’ll need to build up to it, but I’m not adverse,” I reply, imagining Tate taking me there. I want him to claim every hole in my body as his.
“I approve of that answer.”
He moves his hands and grips my hips as he thrusts his cock inside me. At this angle, he can go deep and hard, hitting places he can’t reach when I’m on my back. His hips buck wildly as he holds me up and takes everything he can from my body. I rejoice in the punishing pace of Tate worshiping me. His balls swing into my clit, giving added stimulation.
“I’m going to come again, Tate.”
The heat ignites in my body, and I feel like every nerve is overstimulated. Tate buries himself deep inside me and grunts out his own blissful release as mine rushes through my body. My head spins, and I lose myself in the moment.
“I love you,” I scream at the top of my voice.
“Marry me.” Tate pulls out of me and flips me over onto my back. He pins me to the bed as I come down from my orgasm. I can feel his cum leaking from inside my body. “Marry me,” he says again.
I struggle to catch my breath, his words ringing in my ears.
“Marry you.”
“Marry me,” Tate repeats, his dominant stare trapping me to the spot.
My past flashes through my mind—I see my mother and the anguish she’s been through as well as the hardships I experienced while growing up.
I know there’s only one answer I can give because Tate is my world. He’s my life, my breath, my soul, and my heart. I know I’ll grow old with him, and I’ll have him take Viagra to make love to me when he’s eighty. I’ve found my place in the world.
“Yes, Tate Gordon, I’d love to be your wife.”
Epilogue
Liam
#ImNeverDrinkingAgain
Shit, my head hurts. I was drinking motherfucking cocktails until the early hours of the morning to celebrate Tate and Zoey’s engagement.
Given everything that’s happened with Zoey’s mother, our two lovebirds didn’t indulge as much as Austin, Cameron, and me. When they disappeared upstairs for their own private celebration, the rest of us painted the Strip red, and now I am suffering for it. I’m going to throw up—I’m sure of it. Having money to burn in Sin City isn’t good when it leads to free drinks. Thank the lord we don’t have a concert tonight. I’ve no plans to get out of this bed. Even an earthquake couldn’t shift me at the moment.
Scrap that! My bladder has other ideas. I’m going to have to struggle to the toilet or piss the bed. I don’t think Zoey would want to deal with the fallout of that particular story hitting the press, and Tate would have my balls for making her work extra hard.
Reluctantly, I decide to climb out of bed. It takes a while. I don’t try standing, because I know I’ll vomit. Instead, I slide onto the floor and crawl slowly along the plush carpet. Every movement is agony, and my body groans, telling me I’m too old for drinking—I’m only twenty-four. It really does go downhill after you turn twenty-one. Another couple of years and I’ll probably be downing Viagra to get it up. Not the most inspiring thought when you’ve got the mother of all hangovers
.
Finally reaching the bathroom, I realize I’ve got no choice now but to stand up. I have a vision of Zoey looking disappointed as she fends off the press, following my drunken exploits in a posh hotel. Beside her is Tate with a look of thunderous rage written all over his face. Jesus, I’ve turned into a nerd overnight.
Using the porcelain bowl of the toilet to steady myself, I push up to my feet. The world spins, and my stomach churns, but everything stays down.
“I’m never drinking again,” I tell no one in particular, but it’s a promise I plan on keeping this time. Well, maybe for a week or two.
I’m naked so don’t need to pull my dick out of my clothing. I reach down and aim. It’s probably the best piss I’ve ever taken, long and warm. On and on it goes until I shake the last few drops and flush the toilet. Cleaning up, I contemplate a quick shower, but I really don’t have the energy. Instead, I splash some water on my face and head back to bed. But as I walk out the bathroom, I’m stopped in my tracks by the vision of a stunning brunette sitting up in my bed with the sheets wrapped around her. Damn, she’s gorgeous. I may be dying on the inside, but my dick has other ideas and stands to instant attention.
“Hi,” I manage to say with a voice sounding gravely as hell.
“Hi,” she returns, looking terrified at my dick.
He’s my best attribute, long like my drumsticks but much wider. The woman shifts on the bed. I can just make out she’s testing for tenderness between her thighs. Yes, if I’ve fucked her, she’ll know about it. She pales. Yeah, we had sex.
“I-I...” she stammers not knowing what to say.
She doesn’t seem like a usual groupie. They would already be out of the bed and on their knees in front of me. Is that why I let her stay last night? I don’t normally do that, but then I don’t remember coming back to the hotel room with her, let alone having sex with her.