Sexy Lies and Rock & Roll (17 page)

I nod in agreement, but I really don’t know what I’m agreeing to.

To be careful?

To not trust Evan?

Red’s so cryptic, but I also get that we’re talking about his employer. At least I think we’re talking about his employer, which would be Evan. But his other warning that “not everyone will like me” wasn’t as veiled as he thought it was. I know he’s talking about Tyler, who tries to avoid me for the most part, but when he can’t, he’s not the nicest guy. He’s never overtly rude in Evan’s presence, but if Evan’s not there, he’ll get his little zingers in if he can. No clue what’s up that dude’s butt, but I seriously don’t like him.

Giving Red’s arm a squeeze, I start walking again and he follows suit, Sirius taking off ahead of us with his sniffer going hard and looking completely ridiculous in his socks. “I appreciate it, Red. But honestly… I’m not sure this is a long-term thing with Evan anyway. I mean… it seems to be just… um… well, our interest right now is—”

“You’re saying it’s just physical and has an expiration date,” he suggests kindly.

And when he says it like that, God, it sounds awful. I don’t want it to be just physical, nor do I want an end date, but really, Evan’s not led me to believe it could be anything else. So I admit, “Yeah… that’s all this is I think.”

“Well if you’re unsure, you need to ask him,” Red says simply.

He’s probably right, but I just make a humming sound of agreement in my throat.

We make it to the arena parking lot in comfortable silence, then show our badges to the security guard working the fence that separates the buses from the public parking. As we approach Evan’s bus, I’m surprised to see him trotting off it. When he steps onto the concrete, he looks toward the arena, then swings his head our way. His face is impassive when he locks eyes with me.

“There you are,” he says as we approach. “I was just looking for you.”

“We took Sirius for his afternoon walk,” I explain, and Evan’s eyes drop down to the pup who is sitting down perfectly.

“Why’s he wearing my socks?” Evan asks, his brows furrowed together.

“To protect his feet,” I say simply.

When he looks back up at me, he’s shaking his head in amusement. “You owe me new socks.”

“You’re a millionaire,” I throw back at him. “You can afford to buy more socks.”

“That’s true,” Evan says, but then his smile slides off his face. He takes Sirius’ leash from my hand, turns, and hands it to Red. “I need to talk to Emma about something. Can you watch him a bit more?”

“Sure,” Red says as he takes the leash.

Evan turns and looks at me somberly. My stomach pitches.

“What’s up?” I say hesitantly, my head tilted to the side.

“Inside the bus,” he says as he nods that way. By the tone of his voice, this doesn’t sound good.

“See you later, Red,” I say and before I turn to the bus, his eyes look back at me with worry.

I walk up the steps, Evan close behind me, and I start to worry in earnest because he’s so quiet.

When I reach the top landing, I turn around and ask, “What’s wrong? You’re starting to freak me out.”

Before I even know what’s happening, Evan’s slapping at the button on the dashboard and the doors hiss closed. He lunges at me, drops his shoulder, and before I know it, I’m being lifted and thrown into a fireman’s carry.

I shriek in surprise, and Evan laughs as he turns back to the bus. “Fuck, I missed you and totally wanted to spend some time with you before the show.”

“Evan,” I say in exasperation as he carefully navigates the steps to his bus. “I’ve got work to do, and you should be resting before the show.”

He doesn’t respond but carries me down the length of the bus, to the bedroom we’ve shared every night since Miami, with the exception of our stop in Dallas when we stayed in a hotel that evening since we had an extra day to get to Phoenix.

Evan drops me on the bed and because the room is small enough to do so, manages to kick the door shut with his foot from the same position.

Before I can even open my mouth to chastise him for his controlling ways, he peels his t-shirt over his head and I go absolutely mute. My throat goes dry, my tongue curls in on itself, and that sweet spot between my legs starts to throb just by looking at his chest and stomach.

That line of hair that starts below his belly button and disappears into the waistband of his cargo shorts.

Knowing what lies just beneath that.

Evan’s fingers pop the button on his shorts, and I go hot all over.

“See something you like?” Evan asks in a husky voice, and my eyes shoot up to him, humiliated that I’d been staring so blatantly.

“Um…”

“Or rather, see something you want?” His tone is devilish and his eyes are sparkling with amusement.

It feels like flames are licking at my face, and I really need to stop getting so embarrassed when he says things like that to me. Over the last several days, Evan’s told me so many dirty things, I should be used to this by now. And what’s worse is that I think he gets a kick out of it, which is somewhat annoying.

In an attempt to save some face, I pluck up my courage and try to give some of it back to him. My eyes fall back down to the front of his shorts and to the large bulge pushing against the zipper. “I don’t know, Evan… what you got under there?”

A small growl rumbles out of Evan, and I look back up at him. His eyes are dark and his jaw is locked hard, and for a very brief moment, I think he might be mad.

Then, while holding me pinned in place with his eyes alone, I hear the zipper go down as he murmurs, “I’ll show you exactly what I’ve got under here.”

Swallowing hard, I let my gaze fall as he ever so slowly unzips his shorts and lets them fall to the ground. I’m vaguely aware that he kicks his shorts off along with his flip-flops, but more acutely aware he was commando. I stare blatantly at him all thick, long, and flushed dark. My breath catches in my lungs as he wraps a hand around himself and just squeezes.

Oh, wow… now that’s not only hot and dirty but actually quite beautiful.

It’s taking me some time getting used to him being so free with nudity. I’m still embarrassed and tend to pull the sheet around me when we’re done with the sexy times. Evan doesn’t think twice though about flaunting his body, and why would he? It’s damn near perfect.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Evan asks me, and it’s with great pain this time that I drag my eyes back up to his face.

Yes, my face is red.

Yes, it feels hot.

But I’m going to ignore it and try to push out of my comfort zone. I come up onto my elbows, which I know thrusts my breasts out a bit, and with a quick flick of my eyes down and then back up again, I tell him the God’s honest truth. “I’m wondering what you taste like.”

“Christ,” Evan mutters as he crawls onto the bed and right over me. I fall back down to the mattress, but he holds himself above me on his hands and knees. He bends his head, peers at me closer. “You know I’m going to let you find out the answer to that question, right?”

I lick my lips. “God, I hope so.”

Evan groans and then gives me a hard kiss. When his lips release mine, he rolls to my side and settles into the mattress on his back. I roll toward him, let my gaze roam down the hard planes of his body, down to his erection, which is huge and laying on his belly.

“Do me a favor, Emma?” Evan whispers, and I tilt my head to look at him.

“What’s that?”

“Get naked before you put your mouth on me, okay?” he asks softly.

“Okay,” I breathe out in a soft gust of desire to please him.

So I get naked and I do it without too much embarrassing shyness.

Then I find out what he tastes like, and… he’s delicious.

Evan

I
mindlessly flip
through the TV channels, not really looking for anything in particular and doing nothing more than killing time while Emma gets ready. The Phoenix record label is springing for my suite at The Beverly Hills Hotel for the four nights we’re here in Los Angeles. This has made Tyler immeasurably happy because, by his reasoning, if the label is willing to spend that type of money to put me up, that means they’re going to be willing to negotiate the terms of their offer.

Which is causing me indigestion when I think about it, and I hope that it goes away soon, because I’m taking Emma out to dinner tonight. It will be our first real date as we’ve not had time during the tour to do anything because our timeline was so structured and packed tight. But we’ve got four nights here and nothing on the agenda for tonight, so I’d made up my mind I was going to take her out, regardless of the shitty look I got from Tyler when I told him my plans.

We’d had a brief meeting with the Phoenix execs at lunch today, where they schmoozed Tyler, Emma, and me and we talked in generalities about the offer. I didn’t say much, but Emma and Tyler had plenty to say on my behalf, and it was actually a little embarrassing the tack that Tyler was taking. Emma had sound questions about the terms and wording of clauses. Things an attorney would look for, and she challenged them where appropriate. I was actually quite proud of her, and I don’t even think she realizes the strides she’s made as an attorney in the past few weeks. Yes, she still loves to bury her face in a nice contract, but her ability to effectively advocate for me is amazing.

Tyler, on the other hand, spent time on the portions of the contract that we knew were of great benefit to me, basically kissing ass in appreciation for those things. It couldn’t have been any clearer to the execs in that room that Tyler wanted me to sign with Phoenix and that Emma was taking a more middle-of-the road approach. As such, the execs paid more attention to what Tyler was saying than what Emma was saying, figuring he’d have more of my ear than her given our history together.

By the end of the lunch, Tyler was ready to jump at the offer, but I made it clear to them I wanted to discuss this with Tyler and Emma and that we would get back to them with a potential counter offer. I made it extremely clear that I wasn’t going to accept the contract as is, but they didn’t seem all that put out by it.

As we were walking out of the restaurant to the limo that was taking us back to The Beverly Hills Hotel, Tyler was almost hopping around like a puppy on amphetamines and frankly a little buzzed on the drinks he’d partaken of. When we got in the limo, things got a little uncomfortable.

“Dude,” Tyler said as he settled back into the seat across from Emma and me. His eyes were a little glassy. “You and I need to meet on this tonight. We’ll order room service or something; go over everything again and decide how to go back at them.”

Again, he was rudely excluding Emma from those discussions.

I was shaking my head before he even got all the words out. “Not tonight. I’m taking Emma out to dinner.”

Of course, Emma’s head snapped my way as this was news to her. I just smiled back at her and shrugged my shoulders. “Taking you out on a real date.”

Her eyes sparkled and she gave me a huge smile, both of us completely oblivious to the anger brewing across the way from us.

“You got to be fucking kidding me,” Tyler said as he leaned forward and glared at me. “We don’t have time for that crap. This is way more important than taking your current squeeze out.”

My head turned slowly toward Tyler, and he shrank back from the thunderous look on my face. I literally felt Emma almost shrink inward over being referred to as my “current squeeze”. My voice was low and hard, but well controlled when I said, “I’m going to assume that the three vodka tonics you had at lunch is what’s responsible for what you just said, but in case it’s not, and it’s just because you’re an asshole, I’m warning you… you better back the fuck off where she’s concerned.”

Yeah… the limo ride was uncomfortable after that. Emma wasn’t sitting that close to me, but she scooted even further away to look out the window as we drove down Sunset Boulevard. Tyler didn’t apologize but he didn’t say anything else, settling down into a sulk.

And I sat there and fumed over his behavior, disgusted with how badly he wanted this deal with Phoenix. It appalled me and frankly, it hurt, because he knows damn well it’s not in line with what I want as an artist. But he’s letting money take over his reasoning and that’s become more important to him than my happiness. I imagine that might happen with a lot of managers or agents, but it fucking grates since Tyler’s my friend first and foremost.

Or at least I thought.

I hear the bathroom door open, and Emma appears from the short hallway that separates the living area of the suite from the master bedroom. Just the sight of her and I let all of those nasty feelings go, deciding there’s no room for that shit tonight.

Tonight, it’s about that woman right there.

I push up from the couch and walk to her. She stands there nervously chewing on her lip as I approach, and while she’s definitely come out of her shell a lot, I still dig that part of her that’s still a bit repressed and unsure.

Taking her hands, I do a slow perusal down her body. She’s wearing a simple black, sleeveless dress that’s cut low in the front and even lower in the back. It hugs her body, comes just above her knees, and she’s paired it with those same strappy sandals I made her keep on her feet that first time we fucked on that glass table. They’re kind of sentimental to me now.

“You look amazing,” I tell her when my eyes come back up to meet hers.

And she’s just Emma.

She blushes and drops her gaze.

My hand goes to her chin, raises it up so she looks at me, and I ask her, “You have no idea, do you?”

“About what?” she whispers.

“How beautiful you are?”

“I’m not—”

“So fucking beautiful,” I cut her off. “So goddamn sexy, and you haven’t a fucking clue, which makes you all the more sexy and beautiful. You don’t need makeup or fancy clothes. You just have this thing going on that makes your type of beauty absolutely untouchable.

“Evan—” she breathes out shakily in almost an admonishing tone that I’d pay her such compliments.