Prologue
Samuel Foster
It takes nearly an hour for my blood to stop boiling. Even Munchkin’s twittering meows and happy purrs don’t immediately soothe me. I don’t know what has me more riled up. Cory’s little stunt. Or the redhead in the parking lot.
What the hell was that?What the fuck was I thinking?
I wasn’t.
Something about her just drew me to her. Those eyes...those lips. That soft, sweet body pressed against mine. I could have plucked that ripe fruit if I’d wanted to. Ihadwanted to.
So why didn’t I?
Because she was probably just another cheap tramp who wanted something from me. A trophy to brag about to her friends. A taste of the good life. Whatever. I don’t want to think about it. I have too much on my plate. Eventually I pull myself together. I’m flying out tomorrow and I’d better let the sitter know. I sigh as Munchkin curls on my lap contentedly and I type out a message.
Hey Arielle. Sorry for the short notice, but I have to go out of town again tomorrow night. I’ll be gone for a week. I need you to check in on Munchkin.
Her response takes a couple of minutes.
No problem at all, Sam. I’ll take care of the little guy.He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about a thing. xxx
I heave a sigh of relief. At least there’s one person on the planet who isn’t trying to get a piece of me. I make a note to have some flowers and a card waiting for her. Maybe some perfume. I’m guessing she’s from a generation that prefers lavender.
For a moment, I wonder what it would have been like to have a mother like her. Gentle. Nurturing. Taking care of the little things… Some days I feel starved for that. I rub my eyes. Maybe things are catching up with me a little because I’m feeling a bit unsettled. I pull Munchkin closer.
Thanks, you’re the best.
She sends back a smiley emoji and I sleep a little easier that night. In 24 hours I’m going to be back in another whirlwind of activity and I need rest.
Thank God for people like Arielle.
Chapter 1
Missing Home
Samuel Foster
Istretch out in the bed and lift my hands up over my head, stopping when they bump up against the plush headboard. I’m in a hotel in Prague and the suite Cory booked me is next-level opulent. I guess he’s still trying to make up for getting me so riled up over planning a goddamn tour through Eastern Europe without my approval.
The sheet has dropped to my hips, and a slender hand slides it further down and dips lower. The brunette draped against me was a redhead last night. I frown as I glance to the floor beside the bed and spot a tangled nest of auburn curls. That red hair had drawn me to her in the first place when she came to me after my performance last night. I was pretty damn surprised when she’d pulled off the wig before she went down on me. I’d wanted to run my hands into that hair and use it to pull her down to my crotch…I’d almostgone soft when I was faced, instead, with a sleek sable bob that brushed against her chin.
I wanted a redhead. My memory jolts to a flash of auburn waves, spitfire eyes, and an obstinately jutting jaw. The woman I kissed outside the bar last week has left her image burned into my brain…and it pisses me the fuck off.
“Hello, darling,” the previously-redhead purrs. Her voice is heavily accented – Czech – and for a moment I feel like I’m in a Bond movie.
“Mornin’,” I say simply. Her hand is wrapped around my shaft, and I’m thinking this might be a good way to get my mind off the girl from last week. I reach down and flip the sheet off of her body and she moves languidly under my hot gaze. Like most of the Czech chicks I’ve seen since we’ve been here, she’s got a kick-ass body – toned and lean like a gymnast. We put some of that suppleness to the test last night when I fucked her up against that plush headboard. She didn’t even blink when I hauled her calves over my shoulders and plowed into her like a pile driver.
I wonder what else she’s capable of, and my mind scrolls back through a mental filmstrip of bad porn I’ve subjected myself to over the years. She’s already got something planned though, and her mouth has closed over the tip of my cock. I guess that will do too.
I don’t know if it’s my early morning-glory or her proficiency with her tongue, but within minutes I’m shooting off down her throat. She grins seductively and looks up at me, then slides her body up mine. I’m guessing she’s expecting me to return the favor. I probably should, being a gentleman and all…but then my phone pings, and I’m literally saved by the bell.
“Gotta get this,” I mutter and swing my legs off the bed, padding naked across the room to where my phone sits on the dresser. I get a sense of her pouting behind me, but my pang of guilt is fleeting at best.
An image has popped up on my screen – it’s Munchkin, stretched over what looks like a pair of denim-clad knees. His happy little feline face is wearing something equivalent to a grin and my heart melts a little.
We’re cuddling in the sunroom,reads the message attached.
My smile broadens. Arielle is a gem – the best cat-sitter in the Universe. She’s kept me updated since the day I flew out. I’ve never seen my Munch so content while I’m away. For a moment, I remember the surveillance cameras at my place and consider flipping to the app to watch Arielle with him. But it feels a bit creepy to be spying on her. I can see she’s doing a great job. I shoot off a couple of messages in response, my day suddenly feeling a bit brighter.
