24

Maria
I had to be in some bubble-like fantasy. Two of the hottest looking men in the country were sharing the same space. I brushed my fingers across my lips, wishing I’d taken a leap of faith and kissed him. Then there was the hunk from before, his desire evident by the delicious, huge cock between his muscular thighs.
Whew. I needed to curtail my filthy thoughts. I’d made the mistake of hooking up once with a guy I didn’t know on tour. It was my biggest regret and had almost turned into a public relations nightmare. Never again.
But a girl could dream.
I’d taken out my anger and years of frustration about Brett and his ‘handling’ of me on a stranger. Granted, the gorgeous hunk of a man had an attitude that I was surprised fit in the building, but he didn’t deserve the venom that had splattered from my mouth. Maybe I was tired, needing a vacation as I’d been told at least once by everyone I knew.
I couldn’t relax yet. There were far too many award ceremonies, and a few stops on our tour in Europe. After that, I’d take a solid two months off and be by myself.
Alone.
The thought left me feeling cold and achy inside.
Emerald bustled towards me, her face beet red. The woman needed to take a break every now and then herself. As my assistant, makeup guru, and wardrobe challenger, she’d become a godsend. However, she never left me alone for very long.
Shaking my head, I snorted as I looked at Brett still passed out on the carpet. I’d been shocked at the stranger’s reaction, although I had to admit that I was enthralled he’d use such Herculean methods to save me. That wasn’t something I was used to.
“Are you completely out of your mind?” Emerald’s assault with words left nothing to the imagination.
“That depends on who you ask. What’s wrong?”
“That man you were talking to. He’s a… He’s the…”
“He’s one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen before. You’re right, but there’s more than one predator crawling the halls of this posh hotel.”
She narrowed her eyes, doing what she could to process my cavalier behavior. “Predator is the correct word.”
Brett finally groaned and rolled over.
Maybe I should check on his wellbeing. Nope. The man had become more of an ass over the last two years, including demanding a significant raise. What I’d told the gorgeous stranger hadn’t been a lie. I’d love to toss his ass out the door. “Are we really going to play games tonight, because I’m ready for a glass of wine and a hot bubble bath.”
“Stay away from that man.”
“If you mean Brett, gladly.” I slipped my practiced prima donna smile into place, and I could tell she wanted to wring my neck. “If you mean the man I was talking with, then I’ll be happy to ease your fears. I have no idea who he is. However, he did come to my rescue when Brett was being an asshole.” I made certain the last word was said with a boost in decibels since Brett was fighting his way to a standing position.
Emerald threw him a look, then motioned us further away from him. As we walked through the lobby, I noticed she was scanning the perimeter. “You really don’t know who your mystery hero is?”
“Not a clue.”
“His name is Clinton Cross. He’s considered the most ruthless, brutal mafia leader in the country. This is his resort and casino. He rules Chicago.”
I took a deep breath. No wonder my father had tried to advise me to keep Chicago and the four-week residence off my calendar. But it hadn’t been entirely up to me, other members of the band weighing in on the lucrative decision. My opinion wouldn’t have won even if I’d known the man’s identity.
Or cared. “Okay.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“I already told you-no. Why are you so concerned?” I knew she was from Chicago, while I’d grown up in Southern California where my parents still resided.
“Because he’s the kind of man that once he sets his sights on you, he believes you belong to him.”
“Jilly. You know me better than that. I could care less about dominating men who think I’m going to fall at their feet. He’s just a man.” Albeit a gorgeous man. My mama hadn’t raised a stupid girl. I knew how to handle myself with big, bad men who believed themselves to be wolves in sophisticated, expensive attire.
She relaxed visibly but shook her head. “Just stay away from him. The only reason I didn’t raise a stink about you guys accepting this gig was so you could have some time to yourself to regroup and refresh.”
“Meaning I need to stop making irrational decisions. Right?” The word wasn’t the one she’d used. While she was only fifteen years older, she’d acted like my surrogate mother since coming to work for me. I was a grown woman, intelligent enough to know that at thirty-one, acting like the persona I’d become over the last seven years had gotten old.
And it had almost gotten me into trouble a few times. While I wasn’t thinking about retiring anytime soon, I knew I was due for a long break and possibly a change in direction. If I even breathed a word of it to the other band members, they’d have me hogtied and whipped. We were far too successful to consider anything crazy.
She squeezed my arm. “I just want what’s best for you. That’s all.”
“I know, and I appreciate that.” I chewed on my lower lip, unable to keep my thoughts off both men. How many times had I fantasized about a threesome or foursome? I almost laughed at the ridiculous thought. There certainly couldn’t be a third equally stunning man roaming the halls of the hotel.
“What’s best for me is a glass of wine in my suite all by myself. I have tomorrow off, and I plan on getting a little sun and perhaps taking a nice, long swim.”
Her smile was forced. “You do that, honey. You earned it.”
“Why don’t you do the same, mommy dearest?” We both laughed, and she wagged her finger at me before walking off. I waited a couple seconds, then strode towards the bank of elevators leading to the residential wing, lurid thoughts forming sexy visions in my mind. Thankfully I had the cold, steel box to myself. After pressing the button to the top floor, I closed my eyes, allowing the desire that had sparked within me to rush to the surface.
“Come here, little pet. On your knees.” Clinton’s voice was disturbing and raw, the low growl in his throat possessive.
I slowly dropped to my knees and onto all fours, tossing my hair back and forth before crawling towards the two men who owned me. As soon as I was close, every inch of my skin became covered in goosebumps, a deep longing keeping my core on fire.
“That’s it, baby girl. Come to your daddies.” Weston’s voice was just as powerful, enticing me in a way I hadn’t expected. My throat was tight, my pussy so wet my inner thighs were covered with my juices. In his hand was a tawse, the six tails of leather keeping me tingling all over.
As soon as I was close, Clinton lifted my chin with a single finger, peering down at me with unbridled lust in his eyes. “My good girl,” he whispered, then brushed his hand through my hair. “But also very naughty.” He wrapped his long fingers around my throat, squeezing. Then Weston gently brought the strap down on my buttocks, brushing it back and forth. I shuddered audibly, keeping my eyes locked on Clinton as required.
“Yes, she requires intense discipline,” Weston said in his gravelly voice. Without hesitation, he brought the tawse down with more force, cracking the tails against my backside.
I was on fire almost instantly, my core already ignited.
“Don’t worry, little pet. If you’re very good, you’ll be provided with all the ecstasy you desire.”
Exhaling, I dragged myself out of the vision. It seemed so real, as if I could reach out and touch them. I hadn’t indulged in a fantasy so spectacular in several months.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, I took long strides towards my suite, fighting to get the card into the slot. All of a sudden, I wanted to write down my lurid thoughts. I was used to writing songs, had dozens of them in reserve that I planned to record, but this was different.
This was much more personal.
Once inside, I flew into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes and struggling into the thick terry cloth robe. Then I headed for the kitchenette, yanking a wine glass from the cabinet and filling it with merlot. After taking a sip, I realized the only paper I had with me had been prepared for musical notes, not a story.
What the hell? I’d put the thick pad to good use anyway.
I yanked a pad from the credenza where I’d placed some of my things, taking it and the wine into my bedroom. With the light on, I flopped on the bed. After another sip of merlot, I placed the glass on the nightstand.
Then I began to write furiously, my pussy aching after only a few minutes. Perhaps I’d meet up with Weston, exploring something naughty. My thoughts drifted to Clinton, my nipples aching. I slipped my hand under the robe, rubbing then twisting my nipple. What was so wrong with having a sexy fling with a bad boy or two?
I eased back on the pillow, rolling my other hand down the robe, sliding the two sides apart. As I rolled my palm around my bare mound, I envisioned both men together. Desire roared through me, and I flicked my finger across my clit, biting my lower lip to keep from making a single sound. The moment I closed my eyes again, a flash of an image shot across my mind’s eye. It was different, certainly not as deliciously filthy as the earlier one.
For some reason, the swarm of butterflies I’d experienced earlier turned into a raging group of biting fire ants. I jerked up, my body shaking.
Why did I have a terrible feeling that Emerald’s warning was one I should listen to?
And that she knew more than she was telling me?
The ugliness of danger was stronger than it had ever been before, as if I should know them from some point in my life.
Hissing, I grabbed my wine. Several years of my life were missing, an accident. My parents had told me nothing about the circumstances, but for some crazy reason, I knew it was important that I remember them.
But why?