79

Pepper
I wake up feeling humiliated as hell about what happened between me and Tony Brando.
If he had actually gotten me off, that would’ve been one thing. But he left me hot and bothered. As it turns out, sexual frustration is an excellent energy source. I should remember that next time I’m dragging my ass before a performance. I couldn’t fall asleep for hours because my tingling ass kept my lady parts needy. I finally resorted to masturbation, but even still, I didn’t get the relief I craved.
Hugh texted me last night asking what Tony Brando wanted.
As if he didn’t know.
As if he wasn’t hiding from the enforcer last night, leaving me to take the fall.
I didn’t answer his texts because I figured he deserved to sweat. He knows I survived the encounter. The rest I’ll let him guess at.
A knock comes on my door at 10 a. m. Room service has already come, so I don’t know who it is. Anton’s room is next door, though, and I hear his door open to check on the visitor.
“What is it?” he grinds out in his deep voice.
“I have a message for Ms. Pepper from Mr. Brando.”
I open the door to face the concierge in the hall. “Yes?”
“Mr. Brando asked that you be ready in thirty minutes to fly to Los Angeles. He booked you an appointment with the top laryngologist there this afternoon.”
It’s probably my smarting ego that makes me stubborn. Or maybe because, after last night, I’m not as afraid of Brando as I probably should be. But I’ve been on the road for months. I just rolled into town yesterday afternoon and performed last night. I’m sick, my body is exhausted and the last thing I want to do is get on an airplane-even if it is to see a specialist.
I fold my arms across my chest. I have to clear my throat twice before any sound comes out. “Tell Mr. Brando I’m not up for traveling today. I’m going to rest so I can give a good show tonight.”
The concierge inclines his head. “I will let him know, Ms. Heart.”
Anton flicks his brows and shrugs at me. I’m guessing he already knows the score because he, too, was conspicuously absent yesterday when Brando showed up.
Ten minutes later, my door opens without a knock.
I was sitting on the patio with my earbuds in my ears, but I shoot up the minute I see the large figure enter.
My pussy instantly clenches, like it recognizes that this man-and apparently only this man-is the one who can satisfy the ache still there. My stomach is also aflutter because, I realize now, I purposely goaded him into showing up.
I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand. “Not a word. Not a goddamn word.” He shoves a notebook and pen in my hands. “If you have something to say, you’re gonna write it. If I hear you trying to talk, I’m going to turn your ass red again.”
I glare at him as heat rushes to pool between my legs.
“Put your shoes on and get your I. D. You’re going to L. A. to see that doctor. Now you find out what happens when you tell me no.”
I stand there, staring at him. Tragically, my body wants very much to find out. My nipples burn as they tighten up.
He raises his eyebrows, as if to say what are you looking at?
I flip open the notebook and scribble, What happens?
He picks up my Doc Martens and hands them to me. “You get me for a chaperone. Move it.”
Disappointment. Was I hoping for another spanking? I am more fucked up than I ever imagined. Still, the prospect of flying to L. A. with this man, has my body celebrating, little trills of enthusiasm zipping through my veins.
It’s odd, considering how dead I’ve felt for the last months. Years. This is the first time I’ve felt anything but utter fatigue in ages.
And about more travel, no less.
I pull on the boots and pick up my courier’s bag which is my purse/carry-all. I stow the notebook Tony gave me in it and give him a well, what are you waiting for? look. I have to say-it’s a relief not to have to talk.
I should’ve lost my voice long ago.
You did, whispers a long-absent voice. My inner muse-the poet. She’s been gone so long, I thought she’d died. I thought she only showed up for angsty teens ready to catapult into superstardom with their first alternative album.
But I don’t have time for her melancholy right now. Not with the mob enforcer filling up my suite with his broad shoulders and devil’s jaw.
Tony gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes. I’m wearing one of my usual babydoll dresses-a halter this time-with the boots for a sort of punk Lolita look. I don’t dare look down, but I sense my nips chafing against the inside of the dress. It seems to be their default response to Brando’s presence.
“Put on a bra,” he grunts. “I can’t be held responsible for what I’d do to all the fuckers in the airport looking at your breasts.”
I shouldn’t be turned on by his threat of violence to my would-be admirers. I drop my bag. I can’t very well put on a bra with a halter top. Okay, big guy. I’ll have to change.
And yeah, I’m definitely testing Tony when I hold his gaze and pull the dress off over the top of my head. I stand there in nothing but my panties and Doc Martens.
A muscle tics in Tony’s jaw. I turn on my heel and pull open the dresser drawer to grab a bra. It’s the first time in ages that I’ve even had time to unpack. I guess that’s one silver lining to this crazy fucked up ending to my tour.
I pick a hot pink one and put it on as I stand in front of the closet to pick a new dress. I already have the boots on, so it has to be something feminine. I find another mini dress and pull it on.
Tony mutters something in Italian that sounds like a curse while staring at my bare legs.
“Better?” I mouth.
“No.”
I smirk and walk past him to the door, but he catches me around the waist and pulls me back against him. The guy is twice my size and built like a linebacker. I stare down at the corded muscles of his forearm and attempt to quiet my breath.
“You keep up the cock tease, you’re going to find yourself in a world of trouble, songbird.”
I twist my face back to see him, which has the unfortunate effect of bringing my lips right up to his, centimeters away. Too late, I mouth.
His eyes darken and he eases his hold on me so I can turn around and face him. “Too late? Yeah, I guess it is.”
He loosens his tie.
Good, I have him hot around his collar again.
When he opens my door, we find Anton standing there. Tony shakes his head at my bodyguard. “Nope. You had your chance to accompany her. It could’ve been so easy. Now she’s going with me.”
“It’s my job to go where she goes,” Anton intones respectfully. He’s definitely been warned not to tangle with Brando.
“Too bad.” Brando places his hand on my lower back and guides me to the elevators.
Anton takes a few steps after us, then stops.
Great. It’s good to know if things go south with the enforcer, I’ll be totally on my own. But I was a fool to ever believe differently. I think on some level I knew all along that Hugh and maybe even my parents didn’t have my best interests in mind. Or maybe they did at one time and then dollar signs led them to the dark side.
I steal a glance at my captor-slash-chaperone, the dark side’s gladiator. I can hardly reconcile the effect he has on my body. If I knew how to dial down the attraction between us, I would take it to a quick zero, because I know getting kinky with the enemy is a dangerous game.