Beautiful Boxset: Beautiful Series, books 1-4

by Anderson, Lilliana

  My mouth pops open on a gasp and his tongue invades with a moan. He releases my hands and slides his fingers into my hair, gripping me by the roots and holding me steady as his mouth moves against mine insistently, almost violently, his body jamming me against the wall.

  And then there’s me, getting off on it, clinging tightly to him, one hand in his hair and the other on his back, gripping his shirt into a ball in my fist, trying to draw him closer.

  I’ve lost my damn mind.

  Our kissing becomes more frantic, more needy. One of his hands slides down my body, gripping my arse and pulling me closer still. My blood pumps in my ears as every inch of me begs for more from him. Lifting my leg, I wrap it around the back of his, rocking my body against him, moaning and whimpering into his mouth as my need for him grows. This is insane.

  With a loud erotic growl, he slides his hand down my leg, sending ripples of pleasure skittering through my body, directly to my core. “You are mine,” he rumbles, his hand moving back up my leg, his fingertips pausing at the hem of my skirt. “Only mine.” He breaks the kiss momentarily, looking into my eyes as he moves his hand just a little higher.

  “Yes.” I rock my hips again, begging as my chest heaves and my insides ache. “And you need to be mine.”

  With a groan, his mouth covers mine, growing more frantic and desperate as his hand slides between my legs. I feel a deep rumble escape his throat as his fingers slide underneath my panties and between my folds, gliding through the slickness of my arousal.

  “Oh god.”

  Finding my nub, he rubs my juices over it, back and forth, along with the motion of my hips. My fists clench even tighter as I whimper into his mouth, teeth pulling at his lip.

  My insides scream for his touch as my pleasure builds, and the moment his fingers find their way inside me, I burst, throwing my head back against the door as I moan and buck against his hand as he finger fucks me into oblivion while I yell, “Holy fuck. Holy fuck,” until the wave subsides and he stops moving.

  Leaving his fingers inside me, he rests his forehead against mine, breathing heavily for a moment before kissing my now swollen lips softly, much sweeter and gentle this time. Sucking on my bottom lip, he pulls away from me and removes his hand from between my legs. “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “What?” I’m still leaning against the door gasping, expecting something more to happen when he takes a step away from me, his eyes widen and he shakes his head slightly, looking utterly confused. Then he turns and leaves the room without even a backwards glance.

  “Theo!”

  When the door clicks shut, I start to shake, feeling unsure about what the hell just went on. Still leaning against the bathroom door, I reach down and straighten my skirt. Taking deep calming breaths as I fight the tears that are threatening to pour out of my eyes. The reality of what just happened seeps into my lust addled mind.

  I’m sorry? He’s sorry? What the fuck?

  Tears stream down my face as I attempt to reconcile everything that just happened with the intentions I came in with. And all I can think to do is take a shower and try to wash the whole evening away. Fuck you, Theo.

  Twenty-Nine

  Marcus

  What a fucking awesome night. If it wasn’t for the fact we have another show to do and I need to get some sleep, I think I’d still be out partying. I stumble up the hallway of the hotel with Lachlan and Jack, trying to be quiet but unable to stop our laughing over some of the things we got up to. The parties are bigger and wilder at the top.

  “I love being in a band with you, man,” Lachlan slurs, tapping my cheek as he lands against the wall while Jack opens up their room.

  “You’re pretty great yourself,” I say, roughing up his hair as I walk backwards away from them. “And we get to do it all again tomorrow.”

  “Living my best life!” Jack hoots as he opens their room and he and Lachlan fall inside. I pause in the middle of the hall and grin, taking a moment to absorb the quiet. I could get used to this life. Touring around, singing and partying with my best friends, spreading happiness with our sound. There’s no better job in the world.

  Shoving my hand in my pocket to retrieve my room key, I pause when the door to Naomi’s room creaks open. Of course, I’m expecting it to be her—why wouldn’t I? It’s her room. Maybe she enjoyed our kiss so much it was keeping her from sleeping?

  “Hey—” My words catch in my throat when the person emerging from her room is Theo, his hair all mussed up and lipstick on his face. Fucking cunt. I knew it. I fucking knew it.

  He stops in his tracks, his face paling when we lock eyes. “Marcus.”

  Offering a knowing smirk, I point to my mouth. “You’ve ah… got something. Right there.”

  He glares at me as he wipes at it, taking a couple of quick strides towards me and snatching our room key from my hand. He enters our room without a word.

  “Planning on filling me in on what the fuck that was?” I push the door open before it closes on me and follow him in, holding my hands out to the side as I confront him. The rules. The rules. They’re so fucking important until it’s him breaking them. Fuck him.

  His only response is to turn his head slightly and glare at me. Arsehole. He thinks he holds all the power here. I’m sick of his attitude… I quit my internal rant when my foot taps against an empty beer bottle. I look around at the destroyed room, empty bottles and cans all over the place.

  “What the fuck went on here tonight?” I ask, becoming worried. This is so unlike Theo. I was glad when Amy convinced him to come into the party after the show and have a few drinks for a change. But I had no idea he left and did… well… it looks like he did a lot.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he states, walking into the bathroom and slamming the door.

  I follow him in, not giving a shit if he wants privacy or not.

  “No. You don’t get to refuse to speak. I just caught you coming out of Naomi’s room looking like you’ve spent all night fucking. You chewed me out tonight for kissing her on stage. Went on and on about how there are rules, and that getting involved with her would ruin the band. Then I get back, and from the looks of things, you had some sort of drunken bang session with her. What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you just keep your fucking hands to yourself?”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t I? It’s always been the same with you. You always want what I want, constantly trying to get in the way,” I spit, goading him, pissed off that he’s sneaking around with her after yelling at me for doing something publicly. At least I was open about it.

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” he warns, his fists balling at his sides as his nostrils flare and his jaw clenches.

  “What was it like fucking my sloppy seconds?” I snap.

  “What?”

  “Did you really believe I didn’t sleep with her that night? She’s fucking hot, and she was naked.” I’m drunk and I want to hurt him. He made me swear I wouldn’t touch her and he’s going around behind my back. “She was so fucking wet, Theo. Gagging for it. Legs open wide. I took my dick out and I gave her what she—”

  My head snaps back and hits against the tiled wall as Theo’s fist collides with my face. Pain spreads through my sinuses as a warmth flows over my mouth, and I immediately regret my words. Especially considering they’re not true. I never took advantage of her. I couldn’t. Naomi is the sweetest girl I’ve ever known and she could never be a mere conquest to me. She’s much more than that. It’s why I’ve never slept with her. Naomi is the kind of girl you settle down with.

  Theo releases a frustrated roar then storms out of the bathroom, grabbing his wallet and keys before he slams his way out of the room. Staring after him, I reach up and cup my hand over my nose to catch the blood that starts pouring down my face and dripping onto my shirt.

  “Shit.” I hang my head over the basin and look at myself in the mirror. I think he’s busted my nose. God only knows if I’
ll be able to sing with it like this tomorrow. Fucking Theo.

  Thirty

  Naomi

  The next night while we’re waiting to go on stage, the tension in the dressing room is so thick you could slice through the air with a knife. I force myself to focus; the music is more important than my fucked-up sex life, but it’s a struggle to ignore the issues in the room.

  Lachlan and Jack sit together like they need the protection while the brothers stay as far away from each other as possible, and I’m sitting in the middle of it all. Where I always am.

  With minutes to go, I change out of my ballet flats into a pair of suede ankle boots that give me a good five inches of extra height. They look great with the rest of my outfit, which is a fitted black singlet and cropped vest, with a purple mini skirt that has these tulle ruffles coming off the back of it, kind of like I have a peacock tail.

  Theo hasn’t even looked at me, and truthfully, I don’t want to look at him either. Except my stupid eyes keep finding their way over to him. I feel embarrassed—mortified—after last night. I can’t believe I gave in so willingly. He was being awful, and I’d just caught him wearing a groupie’s throat for underwear. My first encounter with him was supposed to be this emotionally charged moment of beauty. Not some moment of anger that left us feeling worse than we were before. And now I feel cheap, cast aside. But what did I really expect? Theo is a Bailey brother after all.

  Checking myself over in the mirror, I tighten the ponytail I’ve swept my hair into and spritz a bit more spray into my hair to set it all in place. I can see everyone in the room behind me, all the men are dressed in jeans and fitted t-shirts. They’re a striking group. No wonder the girls go nuts. Maybe I should take up Dan’s original offer…. Then I wouldn’t be the girl in the way.

  I drop my gaze and focus on the cosmetics in front of me, my stomach clenching with anguish and distaste. I didn’t even get the chance to tell them the good news. I can’t fix this at all….

  “Is anyone going to address the elephant in the room,” Lachlan asks, looking between Marcus and Theo. “He can’t go out there looking like that.”

  Marcus obviously pissed somebody off enough to cop a punch last night. His face is swollen and bruised. Knowing how cocky he is, I’m sure he did something to deserve it. But he’s our front man, and he can’t go out there looking all bruised and beaten. Even if I am annoyed with him too.

  “What were you thinking, man?” Jack asks, his question directed toward Theo. Wait. Theo is responsible for Marcus’s face? It doesn’t take a huge amount of deductive reasoning to work out that they were most likely fighting over me. Oh shit.

  Letting out a huge sigh, I stand from my seat. “You two. Out,” I command, as I head towards the door, expecting both Bailey brothers to follow me.

  I walk along the hall, trying doors until I find an open room. It’s filled with folded tables and broken down set equipment. But there’s just enough room for me to pace.

  “This needs to stop.” I look at the brothers, my agitation buzzing under my skin as I shake my head occasionally and touch my hair while I try to work out what more to say. I feel strongly about both of them. But with each one it’s different. They’ve always meant something to me, and the past few months working with them has really seen our friendships grow as well as my attraction. As wrong as it is, under the right circumstances, and the right time, I could see myself with either of them. But after last night, all I feel is used. More than that, I feel confused. I don’t know if I want to stay on this path anymore.

  “Do you know what Dan Stolle wanted from me last night?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips. “And don’t say ‘in my pants’ because I’ll slap you both silly.”

  Marcus’s mouth twitches, and I know he’s trying not to smirk.

  “He asked me to continue the tour with them. While you two were busy fighting in the dressing room, I got to go on stage during their encore. I played Vagabond and it was amazing. And you arseholes missed it. Then Dan offered me the opportunity of a lifetime. Touring the globe, collaborating on their next album. And I said no. Unless I could bring you. I told him he either takes us all or he takes no one.”

  “What did he say?” Marcus asks.

  “He said yes to the tour. And he agreed to help open some doors for us in the UK so we can play their festival circuit while I helped with his album.”

  “Holy shit,” Marcus says, rubbing at the back of his head. “This is amazing.”

  “Is it?” My eyes brim with tears as I look between them. Marcus’s demeanour has shifted from being wary to excited. And Theo looks like he’d rather set himself on fire than continue standing here. I need to look away and take a breath. I had hoped to offer this deal to them in trade. Theo and I would get the chance to make something more out of our relationship. And Marcus would take the opportunity as his compensation to back off. The man wants stardom more than he wants anything in this world—including me. So I thought it would work. I thought we’d all get something we want. But now I’m having to use it as a bargaining chip to make it all stop. Once again, I have to threaten to walk away because these two can’t sort their shit out. And I don’t like either of them enough to consider touching them right now.

  “Of course,” he says. “You don’t think it is?”

  “I don’t know. I’m reconsidering everything after the bullshit you two keep putting me through. And I promise you, I’ll take his initial deal and walk away from the lot of you if it doesn’t stop. I am not an object, and I am not a prize to be won. I am not a good enough reason for you two to fight. Do you understand me?”

  Their heads bob in tiny nods.

  “You,” I direct towards Marcus. “You don’t get to hold my hand, put your arm around me, fucking sniff at me, or kiss me on stage anymore. Is that clear?” I state, glaring at him until he nods his head in acquiescence.

  “And you,” I say, moving in front of Theo, my words catching in my throat as my eyes start to sting. “Don’t do that again.” My voice shakes as I address him and barely cracks an audible level.

  He looks at me beseechingly and lifts his arm as if to touch me, but I step back, causing him to freeze, drop his hand and nod. “OK,” he agrees in a whisper.

  I shift my stance and address them both. “This is only our first tour stop. If this is what happens after only a few days then what the hell is going to happen by the end of it? I need you both to leave me the fuck alone. No touching, no hugging, and absolutely no kissing. I will not allow your sibling rivalry to ruin this band. Rein it in. This is too important for you two to be fighting over a girl.”

  They glance at each other, and Theo tightens his crossed arms and releases his breath. Then they look at me and nod.

  “As long as we’re on the same page,” I say.

  Last night after Theo left, I realised there was a very good reason for that non fraternisation rule. Stupidly, we’ve all been skirting its boundaries the whole time we’ve been together. Its purpose was to stop things like this, to stop emotions getting in the way of what’s best for the band.

  Years ago, I moved on from the Bailey brothers, and I can do it again. I can be their co-worker and maybe I can be their friend. But I don’t think I can be anything more. It can’t possibly work. I would ruin their relationship and in turn destroy the band. It doesn’t matter how important Marcus makes me feel or how glorious Theo makes me feel. I need to put that distance between us. I need to be professional.

  My eyes lock, momentarily with Theo’s, causing my stomach to clench and my knees to go weak. Give me strength. I need to do this.

  Snatching my eyes away from him, I clear my throat. “Let’s get back. I think I have something in my makeup kit that can cover that bruising.”

  “No. I am not wearing makeup.”

  “Don’t start me,” I snap. “Jack is right, you can’t go out there looking like that.”

  The brothers exchange wide-eyed glances and I half expect one of them to tell me I
remind them of their mother. Which would be a good thing. No one wants to fuck their mother. Well…except those freaks who do…

  We get back to the dressing room just as we’re called to the stage. The others go ahead while I quickly apply coverup to Marcus’s face, trying to ignore the sadness in his eyes as he watches me.

  “It’s all for the best, Marcus,” I say, dusting powder on him to set the concealer. “You’re never without a girl on your arm. You don’t need me there too.”

  “Maybe I only want you on my arm. Maybe I’d give up every one of those girls for you.”

  I drop my eyes as I place the brush and powder back in my makeup kit, unsure how to respond to him.

  “And what would Theo do? Come to our wedding? Sit and eat Sunday dinner with the family?”

  He frowns. “I…” he starts, but he doesn’t get further than that.

  “See? It doesn’t work no matter how you look at it. And now you’re ready. Let’s go,” I say, deciding that avoiding any more conversation would probably work better right now.

  We go out on stage and welcome the crowd. They don’t really know who we are, but once we’ve finished our first song they’re screaming for us, just like they were last night. Together we make magic. And no matter how hard it is to say no to something you want, sometimes you have to do it for the sake of something bigger. At least it’ll give us excellent writing fuel.

  When we return to the dressing room, there’s no fighting, just quiet acceptance of a job well done.

  Dan knocks on our door shortly after we’ve returned. “Hey guys, great show,” he says to the room before his eyes find mine. “Ready to play the encore?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Be ready to come on stage when we’re done. Oh, and don’t eat. I found a restaurant I want to try.”

  “Sure, I’d like that,” I say, completely ignoring the way both Marcus and Theo stiffen. I’m glad that Dan still wants to spend time with me. It gives me a great excuse to leave all the parties so I don’t have to watch Marcus and Theo fuck around. I need distance or I’ll never get over them.