CLASS ACT (A BRITISH ROCKSTAR BAD BOY ROMANCE) (3 page)

“And now I know my ABCs,” I sang, trailing a finger down her silky blonde hair. “Now, won’t you come and suck my prick?”

The woman giggled as I strummed her hair like a guitar. “I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

She was a nice enough looking woman. My bosses sure knew how to pick out their secretaries. These American girls had a bit of heft to their bums. Not that I minded.

“Well, why don’t you teach me, Cynthia?” I whispered, brushing my lips against her cheek. My cock rose when I felt the hard nipples of her bare breasts against my skin. “I’m actually looking for a teacher. My record label has suggested that I stop acting like a twenty-seven-year old delinquent.”

I placed a hand near the warmth of her sex.

The office smelled of debauchery. We had raided her boss’s liquor cabinet. He was part of the upper management in the American branch of the record label.

The custodians would suspect what had happened. Contrary to popular belief, the smell of sex and open liquor was not a common occurrence at music production companies. Much to my chagrin, management looked down on drinking on the job. It wasn’t like that in the old days.

“You’re the one who’s been teaching me,” Cynthia blushed, looking away for a moment. I’d had her reeling from one orgasm to the next. It had been a very productive session for at least one of us. “I could get in trouble by sleeping with an employee, especially someone like you.”

I batted away her concerns. “It’s not like you used your authority to force me into this situation. You used your very… ample charms to seduce me. We’re just two adults having fun now that work is over.”

“Still…” she sighed. Management frowned on these types of relationships, especially between a musician and the secretary of an executive. If you asked me, a good shag or two would do wonders for company morale. Unfortunately, those suits always cared more about morals than morale. “I can’t believe I fucked Heath Lawrence of Double Damage! My girlfriends are going to be so jealous.”

“Let’s keep it on the low,” I replied, reaching out for a bottle of gin. Strong alcohol and loose women were a rock star’s best friends. “I don’t need another scandal. It’s why I crossed the pond to be here. Can you tell me what the chit-chat is like in those boardrooms? I know you take minutes for those wankers.”

Cynthia giggled at that. She didn’t suspect my alternative motive for sleeping with her. I needed information on what the label’s management had planned for me. Those suits had put me on a last minute tour in the states. Those passive aggressive bastards had even suggested I take some school classes like I was a wee little schoolboy. It was all just a ruse to get me out of the country but I needed to learn more.

What better way to than to seduce the information off a secretary? It gave me a direct line to those boardroom meetings. I even got a bonus shag out of it!

“Well, they hired some tutor here in the states to teach you,” she answered. I figured it would be some old crone who was as old as the Queen. “They want you to take the first part of something called a GCSP… or was it GSCD?”

“The GCSE,” I answered. It stood for the General Certificate of Secondary Education. It was exactly what it said on the tin. A different version was available for adult learners. Not that I was interested in it. “Back over in the United Kingdom, anyone who wanted to be worth something had to have it. You needed one to get into college and become a success. Of course, I proved them wrong and all of them hate me for it.”

“Is it like the high school GDE here in the United States?”

“I don’t know or even give a damn,” I replied, a bit more curtly than I wanted. It wasn’t unusual for people my age to go back and earn their certificate if they had the interest and willpower. I had neither. “What else do you know?”

“It’s really all politics,” Cynthia continued. “Your personal manager and the board got into a few shouting matches. They don’t really care too much about your level of education. They just want you to behave and stay out of any more scandals.”

“Oh, I never go looking for scandals,” I laughed. “The scandals find me easily enough.”

“It’s more serious than that,” she said, lowering her voice. “I heard they’re willing to terminate you if you pick up any more bad press. This GCSE thing might be your last chance at staying with the label. I heard it came from Simon McDowell himself.”

Simon McDowell was the founder and CEO of Sterling Records. In his youth, he had been a talented composer and producer. Now, the man ran one of the largest record labels in the world. It just so happened that I had been working with Sterling Records for years. Now, it seemed that I had the displeasure of entering his crosshairs.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” I hissed. “I make those bastards a mint in sales through my music. I make even more off endorsement deals! If they want to kick out their meal ticket, then fine! A hundred other labels would pay me a king’s ransom to sign me!”

Cynthia was silent for a moment before she dropped the bomb.

“You have a non-compete clause, Heath.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “But my contract-”

“Your new contract had a clause in it that states you cannot sign up with a competing music production company or self-publish for the next ten years,” she revealed to my shock. “It was in the new contract you signed a few months ago. Your manager spent months negotiating with us over the fine details. Didn’t you read it?”