Bad Beats: A Rock-Star Step-Brother Romance (20 page)

BOOK: Bad Beats: A Rock-Star Step-Brother Romance
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“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. If you’re referring to the night we arrived, I had drinks, like I told you. I couldn’t sleep. I talked to Jagger for about ten minutes before business interrupted and he had to leave. Then I had the pleasure of being warned away from you, by your ex. After all that excitement, I was ready for bed…alone.”

I can’t help it, I have to know. My next question will clue her in to the fact I was sneaking around her room while she slept, but I don’t care. “What about his jacket?”

Her hand falls from my shoulder. “What jacket?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me? It was in your room, on your chair.”

She moves to stand in front of me, her hands planted on her hips. She stays that way for a few long seconds before reaching up to rip the veil from her face. Her stare is hard, reminding me of a
stern, unbearably strict teacher I had in sixth grade. I’d been on the receiving end of her icy glare more times than I care to remember. I hate seeing Cadie with that same expression. I want to be the one to make her smile, but I can’t stop the insanity until I have the truth. 

“When you were in my suite, there was no jacket on any chair. Unless you entered another time, without my permission. Is that what happened, Shag? You snuck in?”

“It wasn’t like that. I needed to talk to you. I didn’t want to wake you if you were asleep. I used the keycard and came in. Yes, I snooped, but only after I caught a whiff of whatever you’d been drinking and spotted the empty glass. And let’s not forget, you were naked
and
there was a fucking men’s jacket by your bed. Explain why it was there then but mysteriously missing the next morning.”

She takes a step towards me, leaving just an inch between us. She looks up, her green eyes still narrowed. “Shag Steal, just listen to yourself. You made it clear…actually, we both did. No more fooling around. I’m your employee, and I don’t think I need to repeat the other reason for us putting the brakes on. So even if I did sleep with someone, it’s really none of your business.

But…before you go beat someone up, you should probably know, the only reason that jacket was in my room was because Jagger gave it to me at the bar. I was cold. When he got called away, he forgot to take it with him. That’s it. No one, but you apparently, was in my room.”

I release a rush of air, relief replacing the jealous rage that’s been simmering beneath the surface. Part of me didn’t believe she would sleep with someone so soon after our airplane tryst, but my trust issues, thanks to Lila, Reggie, Misty, Marcus, and a long list of other backstabbers had played havoc with my emotions, making me suspicious.

“I’m sorry, Cadie Cat. Truly, I am. That song. I wrote it for Lila. The only time it played in public was at my engagement party, a horrible event that turned into the biggest breakup scene anyone present had ever seen. I don’t have a clue how she got the music.

My band can’t stand her. Our first manager died shortly after we signed our contract. There might be a copy archived at Rogue Beat Records, but Lila has no connections there. I don’t get it. I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you. Let’s get this voting over with.”

I wait until she graces me with a half smile before continuing, “Did you mean what you said about round number twenty-two?”

“Yes, God help me. I meant it. I can’t stop my feelings. Believe me, I’ve tried
and
tried. Watching those other women throw themselves at you made me crazy. I don’t care what our parents do or don’t do. They’re not married today, which means we can shag another twenty or two-hundred times before they say, I do. I guess it depends how soon we get started as to what number we reach.”

“Woman, I love how you think. Let’s figure out who we’re kicking off the island and then get busy on twenty-two. I promise, I’ll be careful of your sunburn.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Steal.”

Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her to my chest, careful not to squeeze too tight.

A flicker to our left, in the thicker brush, snags my attention. I freeze and raise my finger to my lips. Cadie follows my gaze, staying silent.

There’s nothing I can see.

“What was it?”

I stroke her hair. “Probably a bird or small animal.”

“As long as it’s not a snake. Are you ready? They’ll send someone to find us if I don’t return with you soon.”

“Just what we don’t need,” I tease, keeping my tone light.

I can’t be certain and I don’t tell Cadie, but I’m almost convinced I caught a glimpse of a two-legged
animal
capable of holding a video camera.

That could mean several things, none of them good. There are paparazzi on the island, despite the assurances from my label and the show’s production team that no one would know our whereabouts; or the camera crew is filming my actions without my knowledge;
or
one of the contestants has decided to go rogue and is pursuing me on her own.

I need to take another look at my contract. I wasn’t even a week clean when I signed the damn thing. Usually I go over legal documents and contracts with my attorney, but the label had me running scared and I’d caved, signing without my usual diligence. I may have agreed to specifics I’m not aware of.

And where is Omar? He’s usually somewhere close by. Did he stay behind with his new bestfriend? I hope he is in the vicinity, doing his job, and caught whoever’s following me. Maybe I am just being paranoid and did see a bird, or even better, nothing at all.

Sleep wasn’t my friend last night. I stayed up with Cadie. She slipped into what looked like a coma after the doctor checked her out. I’d stayed in her room, eating my evening meal there and ultimately starting work on a new song. Other than a few catnaps, I was deprived of any dreamtime. Now I’m fading fast.

Once we finish up on the set, I intend to make good on my promise of a twenty-second shagging chapter, with sleep as the epilogue.

Chapter Twenty

 

Cadie

 

“Ten minutes in the music scene was the equal of one hundred years outside it.”

-Robert Plant

 

Our attempt to eliminate three contestants has turned into a battle. The guys can’t agree on anything.

That’s not completely true. No one wants Goth Girl anywhere in the vicinity. We agree on that.

William believes wholeheartedly in magic. A claim I hadn’t expected from Mr. Record Company Executive. He alleges he had a very real, very bad experience as a teenager, involving a voodoo doll. No kidding. 

So Harlow is out.

Shag is dead set on getting rid of his ex. The other two won’t give an inch. Both believe Lila is a talent that deserves showcasing. They also see her as a primary reason for viewers to tune in each week. As much as I dislike Lila and want to support Shag, I do agree she would be a rating’s booster. I keep my opinion to myself though, not wanting to upset Shag. They’ve tabled Lila for the moment and are arguing over Honey Partridge, another one who could be good for ratings but who Shag can’t stand.

We were originally expected to complete this task during Joint Venture’s two song performance. It’s a good thing Shag went AWOL for a while. At least now we have time to hash things out without the contestants staring at us from across the set. I’ve taken a second pain pill and eaten a sandwich but am getting antsy.

Shagging session number twenty-two is way overdue.

We need to move this voting thing along. Because once we’ve determined our choices, several things still need to happen before we can call it a day. The contestants will come back, backstage passes handed out to the top seven, and farewells given to the three losers leaving the island first.

“Come on, you guys. We’ve been at this over an hour,” I express what we all know but no one seems willing to acknowledge. “I for one would like to be done.”

“You’re not an official judge. You are welcome to leave,” Pompous-Pageant-Judge hurls back as if I personally insulted him.

“Better fucking back off,” Shag threatens, taking the already tense situation up another ten notches.

“That’s it. I’ve heard enough. You’ve had ample time to figure this out, and I’m tired of the bickering,” Calvin Masters interrupts our debate with his rebuke. “As the director, I’m pulling rank.”

“Fine!” Shag throws up his hands. “Anyone but Lila. I won’t stay if she does.”

“You will stay. You signed a contract giving the director and producers ultimate control. I’m guessing you skipped the fine print?”

“I was detoxing when I signed that fucking thing. You took advantage of the situation. I knew you were a shady motherfucker, but this is beyond low.”

Shag turns to look at William who is doing everything he can to avoid making eye contact with his biggest money maker.

“You were aware of this?”

“Dad reviewed the contract. I had nothing to do with it.”

Shag laughs, the sound bitter. “Of course you didn’t. You’re just his errand boy. I swear, William, your balls are the size of marbles.”

Not sure what to do, I take advantage of the table’s cover and place a reassuring hand on Shag’s thigh, reveling in his corded muscles. He’s in the midst of a career catastrophe and I’m groping him, thinking about sex. He squeezes my hand, sending shockwaves of need through my body. I shiver and force myself to pay attention to our continued standoff.

William makes no effort to stand up to Shag, more proof he’s lacking in the balls department.

Josh Garrison, the last person I expect to stickup for Shag, has his own opinion and isn’t shy about sharing it. “Seriously Masters. I know your reputation, but this is a new low. You railroad Mr. Steal when he’s at his worst and expect him to roll over and take it. I know what my contract says, and I may activate the clause my lawyer added. You remember the one, right?”

“Go on, leave. I’ll find another judge in no time. This is going to be the hottest reality show in years. I have celebrities lining up to participate.”

My disgust with our director has reached a new level. “Let me make sure I understand this. The votes from the audience, judges, and Shag mean nothing, not if you don’t agree. What matters is what you and the producers want.”

“Smart girl. I can see why Shag hired you. Now that we’ve got the voting formalities out of the way, here is what’s going to happen. Lila, Harlow, and Honey are all staying. They’ll add drama and increase ratings. Sorry William. I’ll make sure Harlow keeps her magic mojo to a minimum.”

“Asshole,” William grumbles. “I’m contacting my father.”

“You do that. He knows how much money is at stake here. Anyway, Tiffany, Jade, and Callie are going home. They’re beautiful women but boring.”

“You know I’m not going to marry any of these bitches,” Shag says. “I made certain that condition wasn’t in the contract.”

“I don’t give a shit what you do after this is over, but who knows. You might find a
bitch
on the island worth marrying. It’s not as if you’ve had any real relationship success. This could be your chance.”

Masters’ gaze finds mine before drifting to his iPad. After what feels like forever, he looks up. “I’ll round up the crew, and we can get the final scenes shot. I need a damn drink.”

“So do I,” Shag growls.

 

* * *

Shag

 

Should the rest of the month be anything like today, I’m not sure I’ll make it, not without a drink.

If it wasn’t for Cadie, reaching out and giving me another chance, at least until our parents tie the knot, I’d be lost and likely drunk. I will find a way to make Masters pay for his underhanded methods. He might know what sells, but bulldozing over people to reach goals is fucked up.

From what I witnessed, ball-less William might actually be growing a pair. I trust he will influence daddy dearest and how the record company does business. Not that it will make much of a difference at this point. Change takes time.

So unless I want to break contract and fuckup my future, along with the rest of my band, I’m stuck.

At least I’m stuck with Cadie O’Shea.

The shower turns off and my anticipation skyrockets. Cadie asked me to spend the night in her room. She promised to use regular lotion and not her stinking ointment, gracious woman she is. The even better news, I’m the one who gets to rub it all over her luscious body.

Kissing is off limits until her mouth heals, but there are other lips for my tongue to tease. Granted, I’ve never been one to make love or take things slow, but because of her condition, there is no other alternative. Handcuffs and spankings will have to wait.

A few minutes later, she emerges with a white towel wrapped around her. It’s a huge improvement over the robe and scarf from earlier. I’m still curious where she found that horrible but effective ensemble. It didn’t come from Tony; that’s for sure. My upper lip twitches, imagining our stylist hooking Cadie up with that monstrosity.

Cadie takes my half-smile all wrong. “Are you laughing at me again?”

“Babe, I was just thinking about your earlier outfit. Can you picture how Tony would have responded?”

She graces me with a smile of her own before covering her mouth. “Ouch! My lips hurt.”

“Come here. I’ll make you feel better.”

Shocking me, she drops the towel and starts toward me, her hips and breasts swaying with each step. Her hair is still damp and spirals over her shoulders. Drops of water slide over her breasts and trickle down her belly.

Because of her sunburn, it looks like she’s wearing a see-through, one-piece swimsuit. Her arms, legs, and face are all toasty, and I can see the actual outline from her suit. For some reason, I find her sexy as fuck, in spite of her unusual appearance. I also notice how much weight she’s lost.

She needs to stop. I love her curves. As soon as she’s over the sunburn saga I intend to share my concerns.

Right now, I intend to make her come.

“How do you want me?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Is that a trick question?

She hands over a plastic bottle. “Here’s my lotion.”

“Back or front first?” I realize then her beautiful bottom is not burned. It was protected by her swimsuit, which means a few paddles, palm only, are indeed possible.

“Front please.”

She doesn’t wait and crawls carefully up the bed and stretches out, front-side up. I hate how she flinches and then grimaces when the bedding touches her reddened skin. The back of her suit had a wide, low scoop, giving the sun plenty of skin to scorch.

Taking her position as my cue, I pop the cap and begin to languidly spread the bottle’s contents over her arms and shoulders.

“That feels so nice,” she murmurs.

I caress her with careful, light movements, covering not only the burned areas, but also her breasts and tummy, avoiding the juncture between her thighs and moving on to her legs.

She doesn’t appreciate the fact I’m ignoring that particular part of her anatomy, and her thighs part and fall open, drawing my attention to her glistening cunt.

Sneaky girl.

It takes every ounce of my dwindling self-control to finish slathering her legs and working on her feet, eliciting more groans of pleasure.

This slow stuff isn’t so bad after all. My cock is rigid and ready to burst. I’m wearing a pair of loose fitting, drawstring, lounge pants, and there is no hiding my arousal. I want to rip them off and flip Cadie over, taking her from behind.

That gives me an idea. As burnt as she is, doggy style will require the least amount of skin touching the bed…hands, knees and shins only. Hmmmmm…

First though, she has a sweet pussy that needs my tongue, more like I need to taste her.

“Feeling better,” I whisper, positioning myself to take the first taste.

“God, yes. Shag, forget Harlow, you’re the one with all the magic around here.”

As corny as her words are, they inspire me.

I’ll show her magic.

Using my tongue as my wizard’s wand, I flick her clit with tenderness, making her arch as she demands more pressure. Refusing to give in to her desperate pleas, I set my own pace, providing gentle stimulation to her most sensitive spot. Just when she’s adapted to my pace, I switch things up, running my teeth across the swollen nub. She bucks and grabs at my head, seeking purchase in my hair that’s quickly growing back from the ‘bald phase.’

I pull back enough to issue a warning, “Uh uh, sexy girl. I’m in charge here. Let me work that magic.”

“You’re torturing me.”

“That’s the plan.”

She lets out a loud sigh, followed by a moan when I suck her clit into my mouth and slide two fingers into her tight entrance. Even soaking wet, she’s so fucking tight, her channel gripping my fingers as I keep my pace steady, no longer going easy on her hard button.

In fact, I’m relentless as I suck, nip, and lick, propelling her closer to the peak. I’m grateful I don’t have more hair; she’d scalp me with her overzealous hands. Lucky for my head, she reaches her zenith and flies off, reaching that state of orgasmic nirvana everyone wishes for. 

Magical mission accomplished.

She continues to writhe, and I drink in her essence, my lips and chin covered in her release. I’ve never tasted anything more exquisite. I plaster kisses down her inner thighs and lick under her knees, making her giggle.

“Stop! You’re tickling me.”

“What would you like me to do instead?” I’m curious to find out if she’s thinking along the same lines as I am. We seem to spend a great deal of time on the same page when it comes to our sexual adventures.

“How about you fuck me?” She doesn’t hesitate and rolls over, presenting her gorgeous ass to me like a gift.

Snatching up the lotion, I complete my task, soothing the rest of her hot skin. She’s a vision of sultry perfection, propped on her elbows, bottom in the air. With my hands still gloved in lotion, I massage her bottom. After a few minutes, I give her a tentative slap, checking her response before standing to get rid of the only thing separating my cock from her cunt.

With the pants off at last, I rise up behind her, teasing her puckered rosebud with my thumb. She pushes back impaling herself on my thickest digit.

Fuck.
Is she implying what I think?

“Better be careful what you ask for, babe.” I move my thumb in and out, making her squirm.

Deciding to up the ante, I slap her butt cheek with my free hand. Not too hard, but enough to test her.

“Oh yes…I’ve been such a bad, bad girl.”

Ah fuck.
No she did not just say that. My cock twitches its approval.

I’ve wanted to see her ass jiggle under my palm since the first time I saw her, and I can tell by how easily her ass blooms pink after just one light slap that I’ll have it matching her sunburn in no time.

Testing my theory, I bring my palm down again, harder. She rocks forward and whimpers.

BOOK: Bad Beats: A Rock-Star Step-Brother Romance
4.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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