She reaches back and forces our lips together. “Not long. Not long at all.”
“Good.” I need a treat to get me through until I get her all to myself.
Her palms go to the wall, as my body curls around hers and my fingers sink deeper. My thumb finds her clit and presses in small, tight circles. Her breathing picks up with each stroke. Her hips bow like a pendulum to the rhythm, her arousal coating my fingers.
“You smell good.” I lick my way up her neck. Cherry perfume and the scent of her coming apart for me—my favorite aphrodisiac.
Her lips fall open, and a sweet cry spills out of her. I snag her chin and turn her head, crushing our mouths together and swallowing the cries that follow from the soft recesses when she sinks down into my hand and grinds her clit against my palm.She quakes and clenches around my fingers as she comes. Giving me exactly what I’m after.
I slowly remove my fingers from inside her and trail them up the bare expanse of her midriff.
“Riot,” she admonishes, swiping my fingers and her wetness from her skin. “Seriously?”
I grin as I lift those same fingers to my mouth, sucking her sweetness off while she makes an exasperated noise. What can I say? She loves it when I’m trouble. It makes her all hot and bothered. By the time we’re alone again she’ll be practically crawling out of her skin to get back at me.
I rub my thumb along my bottom lip. Girls trip all over themselves to get close to us. It works for Neil and Golden. Bronx is a little more complicated. But me... I love a challenge. And tonight, I need Kelsey to be the one to challenge me.
3
Riot
The band finishes up with the meet and greet crowd, and I’m home free. I couldn’t give two fucks about the studio execs and the press that made it back to the rooms tonight. All I have to do is wait for Kelsey, finish up with Neil, and—
“What a show.” The man’s voice from behind me is followed by his hand on my shoulder. “L.A. Riot never fails to impress. Not on the books. Not in person.”
“Carmine.” I plaster a smile on for the head honcho of Savant Records, despite feeling annoyed that I’m being thwarted before I can escape to my dressing room to wait for Kelsey.
The older man is dressed head to toe in tailored Armani. Silver threads through the dark hair at his temples. His fake bronzed skin crinkles around the eyes. “Have you met my daughter, Sonatina?”
The girl he gestures to steps forward holding a bouquet of red and white roses. Her eyes brighten and her lips curve. Shehands me the flowers and kisses me on both cheeks. “Great concert.”
“Thanks.” I manhandle the roses, not sure what to do with them. I’m used to being handed a bottle of Jack, not a bouquet.
“She’s going to be the biggest pop star on the planet,” Carmine boasts as I find the nearest empty surface to put the roses down.
“Stop it.” She flutters her lashes as she touches his arm. “You know it embarrasses me when you talk me up.”
“You deserve to be treated like a star,” he says. “Look at my girl. With these looks and that voice, she’s going to be the biggest star on the planet.”
“I’ve heard you on the radio.” She sings a pop number that is getting a lot of love. The complexity of the simple lyrics floored me, to be honest. “It’s a great song. Who was your writer?”
“Me. I write all my own lyrics.” She takes my hand. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. When Daddy told me you’d agreed to work together—”
“Sorry, what?” I concentrate on Carmine. And did she refer to her father as daddy?
He smiles at her indulgently.
I wasn’t aware Carmine had a weakness until now.
“I’ve booked some studio time,” Carmine announces. “Once the tour is done. You and my Sonatina are going to record a duet. Your fans will love it.”
“Isn’t it awesome?” She hugs my arm, clinging to me like we’re more than two strangers meeting for the first time. “You. Me. A duet about two lovers...”
The way she says it—like a come-on—makes me extricate my arm from her grip. I have to shake her off to get free. “I’m sorry, I was planning on getting L.A. Riot back into the studio. Producing another album.”
Hopefully by then Neil will be out of rehab and his addiction will be in check. I don’t want to think about L.A. Riot without him. He’s been my bassist for so long, my friend for longer. Watching him losing his demons has been hell.
“You’re still going to do that.” With an arm around my shoulders Carmine leads me a few feet away from his daughter. “But you will also record this song with my Sonatina. She, like the rest of the world, is obsessed with you. It’s what she wants. What I promised her. And your contract says you’ll work with whoever I tell you to.”
