by JA Low
“Yeah and what’s that?” she questions me; we haven’t really exchange them yet.
“Chris.”
“Well Chris, I’m Nessa, so next time we come we both know exactly what to be screaming.”
66
Christian
“Wow, he’s alive,” Axel, my twin brother, jokes. I punch him in the arm as we are ushered toward the conference room by the sexy blonde receptionist. My eyes watch as her hips sway with each step.
“Mr. Montgomery will be with you in a moment. Please make yourselves at home,” she says with a nervous giggle, her arm pointing to the fully stocked buffet like a game show model. There is also a fully stocked mini bar which the blonde points out to us. All our eyes are on her ass as she bends over and hands each of us a drink. When the blonde leaves the room, the boys start at me again about my disappearance all weekend.
“We thought you had finally been taken by a stalker and tied to a bed, being made to be some chick’s personal sex slave,” Evan jokes.
“Or, you had been drugged and whisked away to Vegas and made to marry some stalker in a secret ceremony,” Finn adds.
“No, no, my favorite was alien abduction.” Oscar laughs.
“You guys are just jealous I got to spend all weekend balls deep inside one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”
They all flip me the bird.
“Pretty sure we all did okay on the pussy front, little brother.” Axel smirks.
He’s fucking two minutes older than me. It shits me that he calls me little brother, and he knows it.
“And, Evan, if you must know, yeah I was tied to a bed all weekend and she most definitely did use me like her own personal sex slave.” It was the truth. I let Nessa tie me up a couple of times. It was a first, the whole control thing, I don’t give it up ever but for some reason when it comes to her, I am complicit.
My band mates all groan.
“I’m surprised. This girl must have a magic pussy if she’s caught your attention, especially all weekend,” Finn declares.
“This woman is amazing.” My mind was still thinking about all the things we did together on the weekend. She was most certainly sexually adventurous woman, her appetite ravenous, I think I met my match with this girl, it’s kind of exciting.
“Fuck, the boy is in love.” Evan throws a muffin at my head, bringing me back from my sexual memories.
“Fuck off man. I don’t have time for love.” Pegging the muffin back at Evan. I watch as it disintegrates when it hits him.
“But you like her?” Of course my brother picks up on that shit, the whole twin thing sucks sometimes.
“Yeah, and not because she knows how to suck cock … but we had fun together. I mean who knew watching TV with some chick would lead to some of the best sex of my life.”
“Stop it, please. It’s like someone has body snatched Christian and brought back some pussy assed version instead,” Oscar chuckles.
“Fuck you, man.” I throw my empty soda can at his head.
“Are we going to meet this chick? Because seriously, I kind of want to high five her for taming my little brother.” Axel gives me a shit eating grin.
“Back off, man, she’s mine,” I tell him.
Axel raises his hands up pretending to defend himself. “Seriously bro, are you that hung up on this chick that you don't want to share her with me?”
In the past my brother and I have shared girls by doing the whole switching out twin thing. Sometimes they knew, sometimes they didn’t. There was no way in hell I would let him anywhere near Nessa.
“I found her first and that’s it.” Calling dibs on a woman is pretty sad and a first for me.
Axel just laughs.
“Wow, who knew Christian would be the first one to fall for some chick,” Oscar ribs me.
“I’m not falling for—”
The door swings open and in walks Monty, a larger than life man, dressed as if he has just stepped off his yacht in St Bart’s in his cream pants, pink polo shirt and boat shoes. “Welcome to the family, boys,” he says, slapping his hands on the conference table loudly. Last week we officially signed with Montgomery Records and today we are just here for a photo shoot and some PR stuff for the label. “I am so happy you boys are coming on board with us, we are going to have so much fun over the next five years.”
You can see the dollar signs in his eyes as he looks over all of us. He gave us the most creative licenses with our music compared to what all the other labels had to offer, so it’s a pretty sweet deal. The meeting continues on with Monty praising us constantly, which is nice but I don’t need my ego stroked. I know Dirty Texas is fucking awesome and our lives are going to change. We pose for some photos as we sign the contract. Afterwards we sign some promotional material for his kids.
“Great, now the boring stuff is out of the way I want you to meet with your new PR executive. We pride ourselves on a personalized service here at Montgomery Records. You will be given your own dedicated executive to look after your account so we can grow your profile together.”
Sounds good, wonder if she’s hot?
There was a tentative knock at the door.
“Come in, sweetheart,” Monty calls from his place at the head of the table.
The door opens wider. That’s when my whole entire world stops and everyone else ceases to exist. Standing before us is Nessa, the woman who asked me to leave her bed first thing this morning so she could get ready for work. A woman has never asked me to leave before, especially after what I thought was an amazing weekend together. But this morning she was practically pushing me out the door. My eyes take her in, she looks so fucking beautiful, her caramel hair is pulled up into a tight bun, she’s wearing a white blouse that is done up a button higher than is needed, hiding those gorgeous tits from view, a black blazer and a knee length, black skirt that’s molded to her ass. My eyes drop to her feet where she has sky high heels on that look like weapons, reminding me of the weekend. It makes me smile. Her eyes drop to where I am sitting and the smile is quickly wiped off her beautiful face and I don’t like it.
67
Vanessa
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
What the hell is Chris doing in the conference room? Today I am meeting my very first clients, Dirty Texas. I don’t understand why he is sitting with the band? Monty introduces the boys to me and then it clicks, he is Christian Taylor. The goddamn guitarist for the band and he is also a twin. There are two of those gorgeous fuckers running around. Looking over at his brother, Axel, who looks exactly like him, the main difference I notice is Axel’s tattoos are all blue origami style and Christian’s are multicolored. Axel gives me a wicked wink, but nothing, not even a tiny butterfly flutter in my stomach happens. Instead my body is reacting to Christian’s presence and I hate it. I can feel my nipples tighten and my pussy clench remembering our weekend together. I also hate that he looks so hot sitting there casually in a red T-shirt that is pulled across his strong chest, the tight shirt showing off his sculptured body, a body that only this morning my tongue was exploring. Ripped denim jeans and Chucks finish off the rock star outfit. His golden brown hair hangs over his face in messy waves as if someone’s fingers had been running through it. Oh wait, they had. Me!
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Keep it together Vanessa, you are a professional and he is a client. Forget about the multiple orgasms that he gave you over the weekend. Forget about the way you sat and watched movies in bed binging on popcorn and ice cream. Just forget about his magic tongue and cock and hands and…fuck, I can feel myself turning red, this is not good. Those hazel eyes haven’t strayed from me since I entered the room. I’m trying to ignore him as Monty speaks about my role with the band. But in all honesty I have no idea what he saying because I’m too busy panicking. Finally, Monty dismisses me and I head back to my office, slamming my door shut. I start to bang my head against it. How the fuck could I have been so stupid? How the hell do I not know the band members of
Dirty Texas?
Picking up my phone I call Camryn.
“Hey bitch,” she says.
“Fuck, Cam. I’ve fucked up,” I whisper into the phone.
“What do you mean? It’s your first day, how the hell can you have already stuffed up?” she asks.
“Remember the guy I met at the party?”
“The one you kicked out this morning, after spending all weekend with him?”
“Yeah…well, Chris is not a chef. His name is in fact Christian Taylor and he is a fucking rock star and my very first client.”
“Shit,” Camryn screams down the phone.
A knock at my door startles me. “I have to go.”
“Okay girl, good luck. Cocktails tonight at California Bros. you have to fill me in on everything.”
Putting my phone down, “Come in,” I call out.
“Well this is a surprise.” That voice, that damn voice that makes my panties wet. Christian is standing in the doorway of my office as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“You’re telling me. I thought you were a chef.”
“And I thought you were an event planner,” he states as he prowls toward me.
I sit up straight. Now is the time to be professional. Yes, I had a weekend of the most amazing sex, but now he’s my client.
“So…Vanessa, what are we going to do about this? Because I sure as hell wouldn’t mind a repeat performance of the weekend.” He rounds the edge of my desk and stops in front of me, his large presence looming.
“It was a one-time thing, Christian.” Saying his full name feels strange, especially as I was used to screaming out his other name.
“We both know it was never going to be a one-time thing, not when the chemistry between us is this good.” His hand drops and brushes my cheek. “I think I lost count how many times I made you come this weekend.”
I don’t care how good the sex is between us it’s all null and void now we work together. Pushing myself up and out of the chair, we are almost chest to chest, face to face.
“We work together. Nothing can happen,” I state, looking at him directly in his eyes.
“So, we can’t mix business and pleasure?” Large calloused fingers dig into my hip.
“I’m a professional, Christian. No matter how great the weekend was nothing can happen ever again.” I try and even my breaths, but his large presence is all consuming.
Christian puts a hand to his heart as if my words have wounded him. “You sure, angel? Because I bet if I put my fingers between your legs, your panties would be soaked, wouldn't they?”
Ignoring him, because it was the fucking truth, they were soaked. I can feel his breath against my skin. His body heat radiating off of him, his musky scent filling my nose, setting my skin on fire. It wasn’t fair, why did this man have to be my client?
“I’m going to kiss you now, because I fucking can’t stand being this close to you and not touching you.”
Huh, what? No, that’s not professional, kissing isn’t allowed. Before I have a chance to register what he is saying, his mouth is on mine. Large palms holding my face as his lips torture mine, my hands fisting his red T-shirt as I melt into his kiss. His body pushes against mine as my bottom hits the desk behind me. These lips, I can’t get enough of these lips. His hands leave my face and travel over my body until they end up at my waist. With ease he lifts me up so my bottom is sitting on the desk. Skilled hands push up the hem of my pencil skirt as he nestles in between my legs. What the hell am I doing? “Christian, stop,” pushing him away from me.
Both of us are breathing hard, my eyes flick toward the bulge in his jeans and I subconsciously lick my lips.
“I know what you want and it’s all yours.”
I shake my head trying to make the fuzziness of desire leave my mind.
“We can’t. I can’t. Things are different now.” I jump off my desk and fix up my skirt, I can’t believe I let him push me that far. “I need this job, I’m good at my job and I am going to be the best PR manager you have ever had and I can only do that if we…” Waving my hands between us, I continue, “Keep our relationship purely professional.”
Christian frowns. “Seriously?” He looks confused. I’m sure he isn’t used to women saying no to him. I can totally understand why, but today is going to be a first for him. I can feel my body protesting against what I am saying but it’s for the best. I learnt my lesson the hard way with interoffice affairs and I will never ever put myself in that situation again. “I’m sorry, Christian. We just can’t. You do realize we are going to be working closely with each other for the foreseeable future.”
Raking his hands through his hair, “Yeah, I get it. I just…fuck, Ness, I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I am a little taken aback by his honesty. “I’m sure by the end of the week some new girl will have your attention and you will have forgotten all about me.” Ugh, I hate that thought, it makes my stomach sink. Some other girl is going to get the benefits of his amazing skills.
“It’s not like that. You were the first girl that I have wanted to spend time with and not just to have sex with, this weekend was…” He rubs his face as he starts to pace. “Fuck, Ness…this weekend is one I will never forget, you were fucking perfect.”
My heart begins to race. I can’t believe this man is saying these things to me. He could have any woman he wants in the world and he is telling me he wants more of me.
“I’m sorry, Christian.”
“I know, it just sucks.” His hazel eyes meet mine. “Look, I’m not going to deny that when we have meetings I am so going to be picturing you naked, okay?”
This makes me laugh. “Fine. I am not going to deny that there might be times that I might picture you naked as well.” My comment makes him smile. “But we keep it professional.”
Christian rolls his eyes.
I know I sound like a broken record, but he doesn’t understand what it’s like to have your life ruined because of some stupid office gossip.
“So, what would be a professional kiss then?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
“I’m pretty sure a kiss isn’t very professional.” Folding my arms in front of me, I try to be serious.
“No? I’m sure it can be, wanna try?” The smile he gives me makes my knees weak.
“Not really.” I try and fain indifference.
“Come on, Vanessa, I’m sure you can handle a professional kiss from me.”
No, I’m pretty sure any kissing between us I won't be able to handle.
He moves toward me, leans in and kisses each of my cheeks.
I can feel my whole body zing from the sparks.
“See, totally professional.” He gives me a smirk.
“Fine, point made, that is all the kissing we can have between us in the future.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Fine, Vanessa, you win. Friends then?” he asks, holding out his hand for me.
Shaking it, I agree. “Friends.”
68
Vanessa
I’ve been organizing Dirty Texas’ first gig with Montgomery Records for the past two months, it’s a special invite only gig and there is a waitlist a mile long to get into it. The buzz the event has generated has been amazing, the radio stations have been promoting this gig, alongside the release of their first single as the album will launch next month. This is my first gig with the label and I want to show everyone that I am the right person for the job.
I pop my head out from behind the black curtain, looking at the hundreds of fans, media, and industry people waiting for the boys to step out onto the stage.
“Wow what a great atmosphere,” Isla comments as she pops her head out as well. She’s Oscar’s, Dirty Texas bass player, younger sister and also the band’s assistant. I wasn’t sure if I was going to like Isla at first. She was pretty standoffish as this blonde, Scandinavian, ice princess. When she realized I was more interested in doing my job than banging the band members, she thawed tow
ard me.
“I am so fucking nervous,” I confess.
“You’ve done so well, Ness, seriously, I know the boys are happy. They may not show it all the time because they are male but they can see all the hard work you have put into tonight. They appreciate it,” she encourages, giving my arm a squeeze.
I take a deep breath before I reply, “I guess we better get this show on the road otherwise those fans out there are going to riot and that’s going to be a PR nightmare.”
We both laugh as we head back toward the dressing rooms where the boys are getting ready.
Isla opens the door and the boys look up from their pre-show rituals. Having the full attention of the Dirty Texas boys still awes me. Five of the most gorgeous men on the planet, according to Cosmopolitan magazine, can make the best of us giddy like a school girl. My eyes automatically land on Christian as we enter the room. They always do. Of course he looks every inch the hot rock star, in his black jeans, Chucks, a grey tee pulled tight across his chest, and a flannel shirt wrapped around his waist. His hair is pulled up in his trademark man bun. I hate that after all this time his presence still affects me. I hate how the smallest of touches can still set my body on fire, as if my body remembers every single one of his previous touches. I hate that I have to watch him pick up groupies and pretend that it doesn’t affect me, all because I told him we should be friends. I told him we needed to remain professional. It kills me having to keep my distance. When I watch him on stage in his element, he looks like a god, his golden brown hair dripping with sweat, the satisfied look he gets on his face as the screaming crowd call out his name. Those strong arms holding his guitar, nimble fingers working their way across the strings so easily reminding me of the way they worked me over and over again.
“Ness, Ness.” Isla elbows me in the side. Shit, I totally spaced out thinking about Christian again. The bastard gives me a smirk as if he can read my mind. I notice he adjusts himself with his hand like he too was thinking the exact same things. Pull it together, Ness, this is a big night don’t get distracted by the hot rock star.
