Played (Elite PR) (12 page)

Chapter Fourteen

“D
on’t worry, honey. It’s just a song that’s all,” he said, tuning his guitar so he didn’t have to see her face. “Inspiration comes from many places, so don’t freak out. I’m not going to ask you to be my baby mama or anything.”

Even as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d gone and fucked it up. Once he did catch her in his peripheral vision, Mel looked like she was damn near ready to bolt. Rigid body, flushed face, wild eyes. Tempting as hell, but that was beside the point.

Why did he have to tell her the name of the song? It just as easily could’ve been about anyone else. She didn’t have to know. But that was him, laying it all on the table. Whether people were ready for it or not.

And from Mel’s guarded expression, she was most definitely in the
not
camp.

“Let’s hear it then.” She smiled, but the wariness on her face hadn’t yet faded.

He shifted on the stool in front of her and closed his eyes before strumming that first cord. He loved that, the quiet moment before the music. The anticipation of a song or note or a tone of a voice—it was tangible. He’d delay as long as he could…

His instrument was slung low, where it felt like home. When he first started playing, he tried riding it high like Johnny Cash—pointing it out toward the crowd like it was a gun. It was the coolest thing he ever watched a musician do. Never worked for him, though. Aaron’s style was too relaxed.

But once he started playing, there was nothing slow or easy about the way he made music. The softest note was intense. And when the room filled with music, the tension radiating off Mel wasn’t an issue anymore. She settled into her chair and let the song wash over her. She looked peaceful, moved even. Damn, he knew the feeling.

The lyrics were about taking risks and second chances and the beauty of finding what you need in unexpected places. He sang about a beautiful woman. About touching her. Tasting her. Giving
to
her, and taking
from
her.

Mel swayed, her eyes fixed on him.

It was almost too much, singing to her. Singing about how he wanted her. And he did. The only way to get through it was to close his eyes and lose himself in the music.

This song was like nothing he’d ever written. Sure, he’d been vulnerable before, but more in a raw, exposed way. This had a deeper feel to it, more baring emotions closer to the soul. Jesus, this was why musicians drank. Who wanted to live on the edge all the time?

When it was finally over, he opened his eyes to catch Mel wiping a tear.

They sat there a moment in silence, and he let her recover.

“That bad, huh?” he joked, even though he had to fight through the lump in his throat to force the words out.

She stood and walked to him, slowly and deliberately.

“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” Her eyes were soft, searching.

“Not bad for one of the first ones on my own.” He again tried to lighten the mood, because, fuck, she was killing him right now.

“Aaron.” She gave him a little punch to the shoulder. “You are so going to get laid with this song.”

“Really?”

“Totally. Play that for any woman and she’ll be putty in your hands.”

“And what about the woman who inspired the song?” It was time. No, it wasn’t convenient, but he wasn’t waiting another second. She made a good point about enjoying the time she had left, and he wanted to help her do just that. They could do this, a fun fling until the launch. Hell, it might even help them both focus.

Mel’s eyelids were heavy, and her breath kicked up. She wanted it, too. He could feel the heat radiating from under that proper little dress. He wanted to mess her up. He wanted to mess her up good.

“She’s a little mushy,” she told him. “I’ll give you that.”

“I like my women mushy.” He took the phone that was permanently glued to her hand and looked at the clock. “Let’s see how much time we have left.”

“Not enough.” Her voice was so raspy, so sexy, he couldn’t take it any longer.

“Maybe not as much as I want, but we can work with it.” He set his guitar on the bar and pulled Mel between his legs.

“Aaron.” She placed a hand on his chest in. “We can’t. Not here.”

“We can, and we should.” He ignored her protest, placing his hands on her thighs while his lips dipped to her neck. Fuck, he loved her taste, loved how she shivered when he touched her. It was inevitable that this was going to happen. There was a part of him that didn’t want it to be here, with such little time and privacy. He wanted to savor, not hurry. Yet it was right in some strange way. A church, a place of music. It was fucking beautiful, actually.

Her head turned toward him, and he used the opportunity to take those lips, capturing them with his own, nipping and then soothing with this tongue. She opened for him, driving him mad. He squeezed her legs before letting his hands continue upward. Her skin was so hot it made it impossible to think clearly. And when he grazed her hip bones with his thumbs, the ache behind his fly became unbearable.

He couldn’t decide which he liked more, claiming her with his mouth or possessing her with his hands. He was grateful he didn’t have to choose. Their tongues swirled in a dance that was part soft and sweet, part dirty as hell. He sucked on her tongue and she arched her back, swaying against him. Her legs quaked.

He bypassed her sweet spot and bunched her dress around her waist before lifting her off her toes.

They stayed there for a moment, his cock perfectly aligned with her center and his head flooded with her seductive scent. He wanted inside. He wanted her. Like yesterday.

“Wrap your legs around me, honey,” he forced out between breaths.

She obliged, locking those long limbs around his waist. She was taut and willowy, but feather light. He clasped one hand around the base of her neck and the other just under her ass, securing her to him. She fit into his arms perfectly, just as good as his guitar. Shit, maybe even better.

He walked toward the far wall, a corner shadowed from the light that glowed through the stained glass windows. He really wanted her bathed in that light as he explored every inch of her. But they needed to be careful, just in case.

“I want you, Melody.” He pushed her up against the wall, and her heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips told him everything he needed to know. He reached into his back pocket for a condom.

“So you do know where to buy these.” She took the foil packet from him and opened it while he lifted her leg with one hand and unbuttoned his jeans with the other. “May I ask when?”

“The morning after the table,” he managed, as the final button gave and he released himself. It was pure relief. Mel returned the condom and he sheathed his aching length in record time, before sliding her panties to the side. He needed her now, and with his cock free from its denim cell, he nestled in Mel’s warmth like a kinky sort of heaven.

“Aaron,” she said, leaning back into him. “I want you, too. Please don’t stop.”

That wouldn’t be an issue.

He used the tip of his length to push against her entrance. She was drenched with her arousal and almost made him come on contact. Instead, he tightened his jaw, focused, and lifted her up, cradling her thighs. He needed her closer.

It had been a long while since he’d had sex. After his crash and burn on the music scene, he was celibate for almost two years. Not an easy way to live after having what he wanted and who he wanted whenever he wanted. Staying away from pussy was the worst kind of detox. But it allowed him to focus, to get his head right.

Since then, he’d been with women, sure. Quick hookups. Not sleazy, but nothing intense or emotional either. This, with Mel, was something new. And he wanted to make it last as long as possible. They tried fighting the attraction, the goddamn chemical reaction, but he thought it might have occurred to both of them to wonder why. At least it did with him.

They were adults, and they’d been honest with each other. And maybe most importantly, they had an expiration date. Nobody was going to get hurt.

He could feel her tightening, clenching down on the head of his cock, and it was the most exquisite sensation he’d felt in his entire life. “God, I want to be inside you.”

Mel inhaled and her body shook. Yes, she wanted this as much as he did. She gave a brisk nod of her head and tightened her grip on his shoulders.

“You sure, honey?”

She clung to him and power surged through his veins in a rush. “Yes.”

Using the wall for leverage, he broke away to readjust his hold on Mel. She weighed next to nothing, but he needed one free hand to get her ready. That’s when he noticed the surveillance camera to their left. Shit! He’d been so lost in the moment, he didn’t even think about cameras. He took inventory of their compromising position. Thankfully, he was completely covering Mel, so she was safe. And the corner was so dark there was no way the camera would be able to pick up anything. He did a quick study of the room. Cameras were angled at the cash registers and toward the entrance, another on the dance floor. Seeing as how Mel had been given keys to come into Pray, and how no one else was in the building, he doubted they’d even have the security cameras running. Still, to be sure, he shifted her deeper into the corner.

She went up on her toes, one leg slinging around his waist, her hips pressing against his. Yeah, she was one hundred percent right there with him.

And hell if he could wait another second. He tucked his hand between them and grazed a single finger through her folds, into a pool of slick heat. He couldn’t help the hiss that slipped through his clenched jaw. He didn’t expect her to be so wet, so ready. The world began to blur a little just then, and he damn near dropped her. God, he wanted to do this with more finesse, more time. But they didn’t have it. With a knuckle, he eased her open further while his thumb stroked her clit. Her legs wrapped around him like a vice, and he relished the fact that he was the man between her legs. There was no other place he’d rather be.

He positioned the tip of his cock against her entrance, circling her in preparation. And yes, maybe teasing her a bit. She deserved it for the state she put him in, and he wanted her distracted when he pushed inside, because he wasn’t sure how gentle he could be. Her nails dug in his shoulders and it was the best kind of pain.

But just as he was ready to fill her, the door rattled. The damn fucking heavy-ass door.

“Melody.” A squeaky voice rang out and bounced across the room.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed, quickly sliding her down his body and smoothing her dress in the process. She gave him a look that asked, “Am I good?”

He nodded and faced the wall, tucking his length back into his pants.

“Right here,” Mel called out, walking into the light. “We were admiring the wooden beams.”

One in particular.

Jesus, his pants formed a perfect tent, and
it
showed no signs of going down. But when the manager of the bar cackled at something Mel had said, it was a welcome bucket of ice water. That woman’s voice was about the ugliest sound he’d ever heard. Lucky for him.

Still, this need wasn’t going away anytime soon.

So he made his plans.

Chapter Fifteen

Y
es, it was true what they say about musicians and their hands, Mel thought as they drove to the next venue. Who
they
were and what
they
said, she wasn’t exactly sure. Point was, the cowboy had moves.

“But I thought we both loved the space at Pray,” Aaron said on the ride to a place called The Lowdown.

“We do,” she said. “Now it’s just a matter of due diligence. We can’t seem too eager. And you never know… what if something better comes along?”

“I’m a guy of instinct,” he said. “I don’t believe in waiting around. If it’s right, you know it. What about you?”

She’d just have to sidestep that one. In her sexually frustrated haze, she wasn’t up to answering the big questions. “Um, either way, we have a budget to work with, and if we know what others are offering, it puts us in a better position for negotiation.” She sang the last word and prepared for the ribbing. It never came. Instead he sat there with the strangest expression. Color her happy, because it just might have been a look that said he was impressed.

“We’re here,” she said pulling up in front of a nondescript corporate building with a neon sign. She glanced over at Aaron and he looked like he ate some expired yogurt. She had in fact witnessed that very expression the other day in the kitchen. “And be good.”

“Welcome, y’all.” A stocky man with a full beard greeted them at the entrance. The inside was no better. It was a boring, cookie-cutter space that was plain wrong for what they were trying to do. They didn’t let on, and Mel went forward with negotiations. Aaron later told her it was a waste of time, but she knew it’d pay off.

They made their way through the city’s biggest hotspots, and by the end of the day, it was unanimous: they didn’t like the Lowdown, or the Fixture, or Big Daddy’s. Aaron was right. When you know, you know.

Mel wasn’t wrong, either, and when she called Pray with all her new intel, she negotiated a hell of a deal.

She emailed Rita photos and information, hoping that keeping her in the loop would make her easier to deal with. The woman was territorial, and she didn’t like another woman on her turf. Shit, if she knew the two of them had been shacking up, it wouldn’t be pretty.

They walked back to the car and Aaron looked edible in his jeans and T-shirt with the guitar hanging off his back and the Atlanta skyline in the distance. She took a quick photo of him.

“What’s all this about? You’ve been snapping pictures all day. Just what are you using all of these for?” He wiggled his brows. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“For your Twitter account.” She made some quick edits to the picture and sent it over to Tiffany, who was managing his social media sites.

“Oh no, Mel.” He growled at her as she snapped another photo. He was pretty cute when he was mad, so she took another.

“Heh. I’ll have to come up with a good caption for that one.” Mel’s phone rang and she ignored it. This was important. It may have seemed fun and silly, but it was all part of the bigger plan.

“I’m not into all the self-promo, narcissist crap. The party, the interviews, fine. I get that. But I don’t need followers or tweeters or whatever the hell they are. I don’t need anyone stroking my ego…well, other than you, honey.”

“So sweet.” She giggled.

“I’m serious, Mel. I have to maintain some level of privacy.”

“This is part of my promo plan for your release,” she assured him. “You need to get out there and let fans into your life—just a little bit. But I promise you, we will manage it. This is how people communicate in 2015, darlin’. You need to join in or be left behind.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Sarcasm, like everything else, was a good look on him. So she flashed her camera once again.

“Must be nice always making your own rules.” The city street began filling up with the evening commuters. They’d spent the entire workday downtown searching for the perfect place, but to Mel it didn’t seem nearly that long.

“Hey, just like you, I’ve got bills to pay.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowded streets.

“About that,” she said. “I’ve been watching you, and you are a simple man. No flashy possessions. No drug or hooker problem that I’ve noticed so far. So what is it that you spend your money on?”

“My brother.” He didn’t elaborate, and that made Mel a little sad. She thought they were beyond that point.

“So he’s the one into drugs and hos?” she quipped, trying to lighten the suddenly intense mood. “You tell him I said he needs to quit ASAP.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.” He grinned, but it never fully reached his eyes. “I also help him with school and some other things.”

He didn’t seem to want to share the “other things,” so Mel let it go. When they finally reached her car, her phone started going off again. She’d take care of it when she got home. It could wait.

“You’re really good at this, you know?” Aaron said, opening the car door for her.

“Yep. Making things pretty. It’s what I do.”

“It’s a helluva lot more than that,” he said. “You know I hate it, but I do see how hard you work, and I get that there’s a high level of strategy involved. What I don’t get is how you got into trouble with Miranda in the first place. Why you’re not killing it. Honey, you’re a natural at this.”

“Maybe I’ve never taken it that seriously before. It’s different working with you.” She left it at that, because there were some things she wanted to keep to herself, too.

I
t was the longest day of his life, especially everything that came after the visit to Pray. He didn’t see why it was necessary to tour all the other places, anyway. Okay, other than the bill. Mel saved him a ton of money. He wasn’t joking when he said she was good at her job. Though he may have rather paid the asking price so they could’ve finished what they’d started at the first bar, but it was like she flipped the switch to business and was no longer interested. It was abrupt, and harsh, and so not like Mel.

He’d become a lovesick schoolboy, and it was damn pathetic, but at that particular moment he didn’t care if the launch of the album was a complete bust. Mel consumed him. And he let her know it each chance he got. A touch on her hand. His breath on her neck. The press of his body close to hers. Damn right he was going to torture her. Especially when she gave him the cold shoulder.

There was so much tension, or sexual energy, in the car, he wasn’t sure either one of them would survive the drive home. He wished he’d agreed to let her take the wheel so he could continue his punishment. But in some ways, he was still a caveman. He was the driver, not the passenger. Always.

Though once he pulled up into the drive of the apartment and put the car in park, he wasted no time. His head descended toward her, and he nibbled on that sweet spot below her ear. She didn’t seem to notice as she typed away on her phone, which was completely unlike her. That didn’t sit well with him. At. All.

Had she had her fill of him already? Gotten what she needed from him with this gig and ready to move on?

“All right.” He took her phone. “What is going on? You’re making me feel like an asshole right now.”

“Give it back.” She didn’t meet his eye, she just batted around for the phone. He flipped it over to see what was so goddamn important. “Stop.” She batted some more. “Don’t read that. Give it back.”

Once he read the screen, he wished he had listened to her.

He read it again then handed the cell back to her.

“It’s nothing,” she said, turning the phone off. “He’s an idiot. It doesn’t matter.”

Too bad it mattered to him. A lot. It was a post on that shitty Twitter feed he didn’t want to get involved with in the first place. The first post said he was a hack and he should’ve stayed out of the public eye. The second commented that Jayden was the only real talent in their band. There was a bunch more, but he couldn’t read them all on the small screen.

“This is all part of it,” Mel said. “Your intro into the world of trolls. But there are more good people out there, I promise you. And once we start posting music clips, you are going to explode on social media. It sucks now, but you have to trust me.”

Trusting Mel wasn’t the issue. The issue was, what if those trolls were right?

As they walked up the stairs, Mel took his hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And somehow it helped. He hated and loved her effect on him, all at the same time, and was starting to worry how he’d be able to do all this once she went back home. The thought made his chest ache.

But when he reached the landing, he snapped his hand away instantly. Once he noticed that the door to his apartment was cracked open, his instincts took over.

A loud rattling came from inside.

Shit.

He quickly pushed Mel behind him. The door was closed when they’d left, but he couldn’t remember who was the last person out, or if it had been locked.

He took a step inside and snagged one of the guitars that was leaning up against the wall. He held it like a bat, readying to strike.

The sound of slamming cabinets coming from the kitchen had him raising the instrument and charging inside. He rounded the corner, adrenaline kicking as he saw the large man at his counter. His back was toward him, so Aaron at least had the element of surprise.

But when the man turned around, all the air left his chest.

“Jesus Christ, you fucking idiot.” He lowered the guitar. “What are you doing here?”

It was Jayden. In his kitchen, with a goddamn bowl of Frosted Flakes.

“Rita sent me,” he said as he shoved a bite in his mouth. “Like I could stay away with your new single ready to drop and all the shit they’re saying about you online. We need to make this album killer, dude.” Milk dribbled off his chin, and Aaron was ready to beat him down. The fucker almost caused a heart attack.

“Ever hear of a phone call to text or warn me?” Or did Rita? All he knew was that she would be long gone after the single dropped. He didn’t know what bothered him more, that Rita was overstepping boundaries again, or that she didn’t trust he could do the album without Jay’s help.

“Why would I call?” Jayden asked. “I never have before.”

“Dude, we’re in a major city, not some country-ass town. You can’t come in here unannounced. I could’ve seriously hurt you. I thought you were robbing the place.”

Jayden waved him off. “Well then, maybe you shouldn’t leave your door open, dumb-ass. And what were you going to do if I was a thief? Play me to sleep?”

“No, I was going to smash your face in.”

Mel rounded the corner and Jayden’s eyes proceeded to pop out of his head, much like Aaron’s did the first time he got a look at her.

“I’m sorry,” Mel said into her cell. “False alarm.”

“You called the cops?” Aaron asked her.

“Yes, but I take it you know this intruder?” She sized up his lead guitar player and co-writer. He didn’t like that one bit. The ladies fucking loved Jayden Jones. He had that all-American boy look—sandy hair, blue eyes, and a body he spent hours at the gym creating.

“This is Jayden,” he told her.

“Oh.” She moved a little too quickly to shake his ex-partner’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Really?” Jayden said. “Because I’m a little in the dark over here. Who might you be?”

Mel blushed, and shifted her weight uncomfortably.

“That’s because I haven’t talked to you in weeks,” Aaron said by way of explanation. “Mel is my publicist, our publicist, really…and my
roommate
.” He cringed saying the last word, and looked at Mel’s response. She was impassive. Surely, she didn’t want him explaining their relationship to him, right? Did she even think of it—of him—that way?

Forget the hand basket—this day was going to hell in a freaking wheelbarrow.

“Isn’t that convenient,” Jay said in response, a shit-eating grin stretching across his face.

“Yeah,” Mel added. “Just a temporary situation. I needed a place to crash and Aaron was kind enough to let me stay.”

He’d never seen her so flustered before. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. The whole damn day had been a rollercoaster of emotion and now, fuck, he had to deal with Jayden.

“So let’s hear it then,” Jayden said, not one for small talk. A trait he usually found appealing.

Mel made herself scarce while the two of them went and made music.

S
he worked from the spare bedroom for a few hours, trying not to listen as they played. She thought the song was perfect, but Jayden had plenty to say about it. Speaking of, she had to check in with Tiffany about the Twitter fiasco.

“Hi Mel.” She answered on the first ring. “You’re not going to believe this.”

“Good or bad?” Mel held her breath.

“Good,” Tiff squealed. “So good.”

Mel stretched out on the bed. “Okay, lay it on me.”

“So, as you know, we opened the account yesterday morning and there was a slow, but steady, rise all day as we posted about his launch. In the first twenty-four hours, he had twenty-five thousand followers.”

“Not bad.” She agreed, though she wanted more.

“But then you started sending me the photos today, and all of those clever tweets, and it started to rise. Big time. The haters started chiming in, which you expected. So I posted the videos you sent over, and it got insane out there.”

“Verdict?” Mel asked. She had planned this entire campaign out, step by step. Now she’d see if it paid off.

“Tonight we’re at five-hundred thousand followers, and all of Aaron’s former fans are really active. I’m getting all the new fan pages up and that’s gaining speed as well.”

“Ohmygod.” Now it was Mel squealing.

Aaron came rushing in. “What happened?” He gripped her by the arms, a worried looked washed across his face. “Are you okay?”

Mel nodded and thanked Tiff for all of her hard work before hanging up. “This is huge, baby.”

“What is?” he asked. “Tell me now because you scared the shit out of me. Two times in one night is too much.”

“I’m sorry.” She pulled him down on the bed next to her. “But look at this,” she pulled up his account, “you have a half million followers in just two days, Aaron.”