by Casey, Ember
My brother Leopold has always been the one to encourage me to take advantage of my status as a royal. Not many people have the opportunity to live this life, he’d say to me. And he’s right. Not many people do. Pax Donovan has to work a lot harder than me or any of my siblings to keep his status. I only need to show my face in public once in a while—though I’m sure my family would prefer that whatever publicity I receive doesn’t come at the expense of looking foolish.
Leopold definitely had that part covered before he met Elle, the love of his life.
I need to find my own way through my life. And if I can have a bit of fun while I do, then why shouldn’t I? Victoria doesn’t understand—she’s been on the opposite side of the cameras, chasing down celebrities since she became a journalist. She may have become something of a celebrity herself now, but she still doesn’t get it. She probably never will completely.
I widen my smile at her. “Like I said, I’m just going to have a bit of fun.”
“Over my dead body.” She shakes her head at me “You can do what you want after you’re off my watch—”
“I’m sorry, Victoria, but I don’t think I’ll be joining you.” I glance over my shoulder—part of me almost hopes Pax will be standing behind me. I look back at my sister-in-law. “After all, I was invited to a party—”
“Sophia.” If I weren’t looking directly at her, I’d swear the rage I see was my brother Andrew’s. “You cannot honestly believe that he was inviting you to a party. What he meant was—”
“I know exactly what he meant.” My body is still tingling at the thought of allowing Pax to have his way with me. And why shouldn’t I do what I want? I’m a grown woman—and I have the same needs as any other female. If I want to have a one-night stand with a man, why shouldn’t I be allowed to do so? It isn’t as though anyone stopped my brothers…
“Sophia…” Victoria bites at her lip, shaking her head slowly from side to side. “This is…reckless. Stupid. I mean—”
I blink a few times, feigning innocence for a moment. “I know.”
“Then why…?” She closes her eyes and releases a slow breath before looking back up at me. “Sophia, he’ll use you. That’s what these kinds of guys do. They use women. They don’t form attachments. They don’t care—”
“And who says I won’t be using him?” I tilt my head. “Whether you or my brothers or my parents care to believe it, I am an adult. An adult woman…” I give her a small smile. “It isn’t as though I’m innocent, Victoria, if you know what I mean. And I spend a lot of time worrying about the romantic fate of others while I haven’t paid much attention to my own.”
“But this guy…this guy wouldn’t be a romance. It would be…a fling. And you’d get hurt—”
“Not if I go into it with my eyes open. Not if I know what it is before I start.” My smile falls. “You’re honestly going to tell me you’ve never done anything like this? When you met my brother, you expected that to only be a fling. You can’t honestly say you’ve never been with someone only for the sex—”
“Sophia.” She interrupts with a curt shake of her head, and there’s no doubt about it—she’s turning into her husband. “What I’ve done in my past doesn’t matter. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get hurt—”
“No one’s going to get hurt. Are they Sophia?”
An arm slides around my waist. I don’t even have to look over to know Pax is standing beside me. And my God, this time I can smell him. Whatever it is—some combination of expensive cologne and him—almost knocks me over. That tingling starts in my chest and finds its way to the ending of every nerve in my body within a second. It’s all I can do not to turn to him and wrap my legs around his waist. It’s all I can do—
“Do you do this often?” Victoria blinks at him a few times, and her expression is nothing if not serious. “Take young women to bed within a minute of meeting them?”
“Well, I am a rock god.” The small smile he’d had on his lips falls immediately. “And that was off the record.” He turns to me. “But you don’t mind a bit, do you Sophia?”
I turn back to Victoria with a smile. “No,” I lie. “I don’t mind at all.”
Pax
It’s all I can do not to carry her off right then and there, but unfortunately, I have work to do. The music comes first. But at least I know she’s enjoying the show. I can feel her eyes on me throughout the entire photo shoot.
And honestly, who can blame her? I smile to myself as I wait for Jameson to reposition himself according to the photographer’s direction. I’m sure watching this shoot is exciting for her, even if it’s just another day at work for me. Back when our music was first taking off, we were excited to shoot any promotional images. Now, it’s just another of the many rather tedious things to be done whenever we release a new album—I swear, there have been nearly a dozen shoots this time around, and they’re not nearly as glamorous as they once looked from the outside. The more famous we get—and the more obligations like this we have on our plate—the more I appreciate the time we have just making music. That’s all I want—to make music and enjoy the perks that come along with all the hard work we’ve put in so far. The time I spend alone with my guitar or playing around with my bandmates are the happiest moments of my life, when everything just seems right with the world.
My eyes drift back to Sophia again. She’s watching the photographer and Jameson, and I feel a competitive twinge in my stomach, an urge to bring her attention back to me. But I also enjoy the opportunity to check her out without her knowing.
She’s petite, but curvy in all the right places. She has the kind of body that begs for my hands—I want to run my fingers up and down the length of her. She dresses to show it off, and her clothes are obviously expensive—they must pay her well at Celebrity Spark, or maybe she comes from money. The latter seems unlikely, though, given that she’s working as an assistant instead of lounging by a pool at some Beverly Hills mansion.
Maybe she’s convinced some poor rich fuck to buy her a fancy wardrobe. As forward as she was with me, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a sugar daddy or something. It’s common practice here in L.A., and a woman like her is bound to attract that sort of attention.
Not that it matters if she’s already “taken,” as far as I’m concerned. She’s clearly interested in me either way, and if she already has someone paying her bills, she won’t expect me to. That’s one of the most noticeable differences about dating these days—back when me and the boys were playing out of Rider’s garage, women acted like I was some sort of loser when I couldn’t afford to take them to whatever the hot new restaurant of the week was. I was worthless because my wallet was empty. When we hit it big and I could suddenly afford to go to those places, the problem never really disappeared—I just found myself on the other side of it. Now, I’m no longer a poor loser, but I’m suddenly expected to lavish the women I date with expensive gifts and experiences and even pay their bills. What a load of bullshit. It’s easier to forego the actual “dating” part altogether and just stick to the fun stuff.
So which is it in Sophia’s case? Rich fuck or rich family? My gaze slides back up to her face. It’s funny, but the more I look at her, the more I feel like I’ve seen her before. But where? I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I’d had an interview with her before, especially if Victoria was there. In my position, it pays to remember reporters—which ones are susceptible to my charms, which ones are likely to twist my words, et cetera. Now that I look at Victoria again, she seems mildly familiar, too, but not in the professional sense.
Maybe one or both of them has been to one of our shows? I don’t remember the name of every woman that comes backstage, but I’m usually pretty good with faces. That theory seems unlikely, though—while Sophia might be a fan, Victoria clearly isn’t.
Then why the hell do I recognize them? Neither of them behaved like we’ve met before. The problem with this town is that you meet so many fucking people it’s im
possible to remember them all. Especially when you take them outside of the original context where you met. Hell, I know that better than anyone—all I have to do is throw on a hat and sunglasses, cover up the more distinctive tattoos on my arms, and I can go anywhere I want without people noticing me. Out in the real world and without my guitar in hand, I could be anyone. Context is everything.
So how do I get some fucking context for these two women?
As if she can sense me thinking about her, Sophia glances back at me again. I give her a wink and a grin, and she responds with a smile of her own.
To hell with how I know her. Tonight’s going to be a blast either way. And chances are I’ll be ready to move on again by tomorrow morning, anyway, so who cares if I ever figure out why she looks familiar? Get in and get out, that’s my motto when it comes to women. Have fun and then ditch them before they start believing you owe them anything. Won’t be any different with this one.
“Pax,” calls the photographer. “I need you to look this way.”
I do, but I keep watching Sophia out of the corner of my eye.
Who cares about any of it? I’m going to have fun tonight, and that’s all that matters.
* * *
I don’t catch her alone again until much later in the day, when the photographer is doing individual shots of us and Victoria is taking the opportunity to ask my bandmates a few questions. Rider is currently posing for the photographer and Charlie is speaking with Victoria, which leaves Jameson time to attack the refreshments table and me time to corner Sophia.
“You enjoying watching the shoot?” I ask her, leading her into a secluded corner of the studio, behind some crates of equipment.
“Very much,” she says. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, too.”
I laugh. “Then maybe I should look into a career in acting, because I’ve been bored out of my mind for most of the afternoon. Posing for hours at a time isn’t exactly gripping work. But at least I have something to distract me today.” I reach out and run my fingers along her cheek.
It’s the only time I’ve touched her since kissing her hand, and in spite of my attraction to her, I’m surprised by how strongly my body reacts. Heat rushes up my arm, and my blood seems to redirect itself straight to my groin.
Her eyes widen. They’re a deep blue, the sort of eyes that people write songs about. I wonder if that rich fuck buddy of hers is also a musician, if he takes his inspiration from those eyes.
“Happy to help,” she says. Her voice is a little breathier than it was before, a little less certain. Is she suddenly unsure about all of this? Or is it just my charm working on her?
My curiosity about her spikes again, and I’m finding it hard to push down all the questions I have. Who the hell is this woman?
“Have we met before?” I ask her, sliding my thumb past the corner of her mouth.
She laughs, and for a moment, I’m afraid I’ve lost my hold over her.
“That’s not a very original pickup line,” she says, eyes sparkling.
“It’s not a line,” I say. “You just look…familiar. I could swear I know you from somewhere.”
She shrugs. “I promise we’ve never met.”
“No, I guess not. I’d remember that accent.”
“Does it matter either way?”
I stare down at her—at her shining eyes, her warm brown hair, her round, almost childish cheeks. There’s a dimple on the left side of her mouth—how didn’t I notice that before?
“No,” I tell her honestly. “It doesn’t matter.” There are much more intriguing mysteries about this woman to discover first.
She’s smiling again, and I find myself drawn in closer, closing the distance between our bodies. Fuck me, I want this woman. And I’m not sure I have the patience to wait until tonight.
“They won’t need me again for a little while,” I tell her. “What do you say you help keep me busy until then?”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I don’t wait for her to get any words out. My lips crash down on hers, answering for her.
For a couple seconds, her shock seems to overtake her, but she gets over it quickly. One moment she’s frozen against me, and the next her arms are looping around my neck, pulling me closer. Her mouth opens wider against mine, and I’m happy to accept the invitation. My hand moves into her hair, holding her face against mine, and my other arm slides around her waist, pressing our bodies together.
It’s only a fucking kiss, but I’m already rock hard. Sophia’s lips are hot and soft, and my tongue traces them all the way around before plunging into her mouth. One of her hands grips my scalp, and it tightens as I grind my hips against hers. Sometimes you can tell everything you need to know about a woman by the way she kisses you, and I can tell by the way that Sophia kisses me that we’re going to have the time of our fucking lives tonight.
And before then, too. They won’t need me for another twenty minutes. That’s plenty of time for a quick, hot fuck.
I release her waist and slide my hand beneath her shirt, running my fingers up her body until I find her breast. She gasps in surprise but doesn’t pull away from me. If anything, she presses closer, leaning into my grip.
Something tickles at the edge of my awareness, but I ignore it. Right now, the only thing I care about is this exquisite woman in front of me. She bites down on my lower lip, and I growl and grind my hips against hers again. My fingers tighten on her breast.
The annoying distraction comes again, and this time I dimly recognize it as a voice.
Sophia freezes in my arms. She’s clearly heard the same thing I have. I slide my tongue into her mouth again, trying to bring her back to me, but she suddenly pushes at my chest, trying to shove me back. Disappointment surging through me, I break the kiss.
This time it’s impossible to ignore the damned distraction—someone is calling for Sophia.
“Sophia!” comes Victoria’s voice from somewhere not too far away.
Sophia pushes at my chest again, shoving me back a step. She’s breathing heavily, and her chest visibly rises and falls as she pulls my hand out from under her shirt. She tugs at her clothes, desperately straightening them.
“Leaving so soon?” I ask her in a hushed voice. My cock has something to say about that.
“Just for now,” Sophia says, trying to fix her disheveled hair. “She’ll kill me if she finds me like this with you.”
“Since when is she your keeper?” I ask, leaning casually against the wall. Unlike Sophia, I don’t really care if anyone here knows what we were just doing. “You’re a grown woman, aren’t you? Your boss doesn’t get to tell you what you do in your personal life.”
She pauses in the middle of finger-combing her hair. “You’re right. But technically she’s still working, so I should probably behave until we’re all done here.”
“Such a good girl,” I murmur, trying to calm my impatient cock by adjusting it in my pants. “Does that mean you’re no longer interested in coming by my place later?”
“I didn’t say that. I…” For the first time since I met her, she blushes.
And I take full advantage of her being flustered. I step close to her again.
“I’m glad you aren’t reconsidering,” I tell her in a low, deep voice. “Because that kiss was…” I raise my eyebrow to finish the sentence.
Her breath comes out in a rush. “Yeah. It was…”
“Sophia!” Victoria sounds like she’s just on the other side of the crates shielding us, and we both jump.
“I have to go,” Sophia whispers to me. Then she shoves me aside again and rushes away before I can stop her.
I let her go. I won’t get her in trouble with her boss, even if I think it’s ridiculous that Sophia can’t make her own choices in something like this.
With a smile, I lean against the wall. Maybe I’ll get more than a night’s pleasure out of this one. In fact, I imagine it might take me an entire week to get bored with Sophia—and I might have even kept h
er around for two, if Twisted Throne weren’t leaving on tour. Assuming she doesn’t start begging for expensive gifts after the first couple of days.
And assuming she doesn’t run back to her rich fuck of a sugar daddy. I don’t like sharing my women, and until I’m bored with her, I want her to be mine and mine alone. But maybe after I’ve satisfied her a couple of times she’ll tell me the truth. And not just about her lover—about who she is and how I know her.
Sophia
Victoria looks me up and down, shaking her head. “Seriously?” By the way her shoulders sag after she says the word, I can tell she knows what I’ve been up to.
I smooth my blouse and try to straighten my skirt before I look back over at her. “I promise, I won’t get you into trouble with my family.” I press my lips into a smile. “I just…I need to have a bit of fun. You probably don’t understand—”
“I do understand,” she interrupts. “More than you might imagine. And I’m all for you having fun.” She glances over her shoulder. “Just not with this guy.”
“It isn’t as though it’s going to mean anything. And I can take care of myself.” Though after the kiss Pax and I just shared, I’d much rather let him take care of me. At least for the time being.
She gives me an exasperated sigh as she shakes her head at me. “Sophia, do I really have to spell this out for you?”
“Spell what out?” I grin. “I’m a grown woman, Victoria. I have been for quite some time now, whether anyone in my family wants to believe it or not. I just…I need to do something on my own. Anything on my own—”
