Beautiful Boxset: Beautiful Series, books 1-4

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Beautiful Boxset: Beautiful Series, books 1-4 Page 109

by Anderson, Lilliana


  He moans again as his hand slides down, over my mound until he reaches my folds. The instant he touches me, my nerve endings jump to high alert, never quite recovering from their last orgasm.

  “Oh god,” I cry out, working him with my hand as his fingers slip inside of me. They push in and slide out, back over my clit before he pushes his fingers inside me once more. We rock, and we moan, touching and kissing, our hands working faster as our calls echo off the small tiled space. All the while, the water splashes down over us, encasing us in our own private cocoon, a place where the rest of the world doesn’t matter to us.

  “You’re amazing,” he moans, spurting his hot juices out as he erupts into the torrent of water raining down on us. The moment I see him burst, my orgasm rips through my body, weakening my knees, causing me to press myself against him as his hand presses on my throbbing nub, keeping my orgasm steady.

  “You’re amazing,” I whisper, nipping at his chin as I catch my breath.

  We spend a little more time in our glorious little paradise before leaving it to return to reality and get ready for the show. To pretend we aren’t in love.

  This week is going to be hard.

  Thirty-Five

  Theo

  I love music. Every time we’re up on stage and the songs I write come to life, I’m on a high. I love the way the audience cheers and screams at the end of a song, but as soon as Marcus addresses them, a hush falls over them. They listen to each song with quiet reverence. It’s beautiful.

  Although, nothing is as beautiful to me as the moment Naomi steps up to the microphone and sings the first part of It’s a Crime. She stands with her violin held at her side, ready to use it later in the song, and as always, she closes her eyes. I can tell she really feels the song, understands the lyrics and puts all of her emotion behind her words.

  Please get out of the way

  This is not what it looks like

  I’m in the wrong place

  I wasn’t looking for you

  Hitting my foot on the pedal to create the echoing boom that sounds a bit like a heartbeat, I keep my eyes on her, knowing she’s about to play.

  She’s amazing. Each time she holds herself, bow poised, head tilted, I get shivers. Her whole body moves and it’s as if she is the music. Every night I’ve watched, a deep ache inside of me as I’ve longed to be with her, to tell her how I feel. Tonight, I know she’s mine, and when the song finishes and the crowd screams, I’m the one she’s looking at. I’m the one she’s smiling at.

  Marcus

  I feel sick. Each time they look at each other it’s like I’m being stabbed. They do it briefly at the end of each song, so if I didn’t know what I do, then I probably wouldn’t even notice it. But I do. I see it clearly.

  I can’t stand to see this. I need a drink. I need air.

  The screaming of the audience is so fucking loud and my head is throbbing. I want to go, I want to walk off the stage. But I stay. I get through it. I plaster a smile on my face and I go through the motions. We’ve done this show so many times now I can do it on autopilot. If only I could stop looking at them. If only I could stop looking at her. She looks at me with a smile too, but it’s not the same one she gives Theo. Fuck. Kill me now. At least then this wouldn’t be so hard.

  At least then I wouldn’t have lost the woman I love to my backstabbing brother. Fuck them.

  The moment the show is done and we walk off the stage, I hand over my guitar and head straight for the dressing room and grab a beer. And when I finish that, I grab another. When that isn’t enough, I head into the other room and grab a bottle of rum. Tossing it back and drinking in thirsty gulps. My dry spell is over. I’m done being the good guy. I didn’t get the girl.

  I played by the fucking rules and I lost. What’s the fucking point in caring when I’m surrounded by arseholes?

  Thirty-Six

  Naomi

  “What are you doing” I ask, watching Theo as he pulls on his jeans. I’m still lying naked on the bed after a marathon love making session. We basically took off as soon as the show was over, knowing we wouldn’t be missed.

  The gods were on our side tonight as Marcus seemed to be unable to ignore the allure of Melbourne’s night life and began drinking the moment we got off the stage. So it was easy for us to slip out. Everyone was used to me leaving with Dan, and they were used to Theo leaving early as well. No flags raised.

  After that, well… you know what we did. And we did it over and over again. Until Theo decided to get dressed, of course.

  “I’m getting my guitar. I’ll be right back.”

  I pull a sheet over my body, just in case there’s anyone in the hall as he opens the door and races back to his room. There isn’t. It’s still far too early for the partygoers to come back yet.

  He grins as he shuts my door, the guitar in his hand as he returns to the bed.

  “What are you going to do? Serenade me? You don’t need to. You already have me. I love you dammit.” I grin, watching him as he readies the guitar.

  “No. I want to show you the song. With your lyrics, it’s finished. You wanna play it with me?” His eyes twinkle and skim down the length of my body.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” I say, standing up to fetch my violin. Returning to sit opposite him, poised and ready to play, boldly naked as I watch him and wait.

  “I don’t know if I can play with you looking like that,” he says, his eyes glued to my chest.

  “Just try,” I say softly, playing the first few notes of the song.

  He’s quick to join in, and I can’t help but smile and watch his beautiful face as he sings.

  Woke up this morning and I realised you were gone.

  This house feels so empty, I never thought our time was done.

  I know you asked me to write you a special song

  You were my muse, writing without you seems wrong

  The window’s open, and the wind is getting in

  Without you with me, I just take it on the chin,

  I loved your fire, and I loved every sin

  I love everything you bring to our affair

  Knowing the chorus, I join in and sing with him. I only sing softly, it’s not the easiest thing to do while you have a violin under your chin, but it’s possible, especially when I’m just singing the melody.

  Oh, please know I loved you,

  Even though I was unfair

  Please know I still want you

  I’ll show you that I care.

  Each night I sleep without you,

  I dream about your touch,

  When I wake up I’m without you

  And missing you so much.

  He repeats the first verse and we sing the chorus through one more time, before ending on a hum.

  “That sounds so beautiful.”

  “It should. It’s about us,” he says, placing his guitar next to the bed and moving towards me. “Big shock there.”

  “I know. I helped you write it. Just like I helped write that,” I say, indicating the tattoo covering his ribs.

  “You recognise that, huh?” he asks, pausing his advance and sitting in front of me.

  “Yeah. I do. It’s the music we were writing together in high school. The song we never finished. Is that why it ends in flames?” I ask, as he lifts his arm to give me a full view of it. His ribs are like the sheet for the music, the staffs holding the notes running over them in their horizontal lines, each note in its place until the very last line when the staff breaks up and bursts into flames, obscuring the final notes.

  “I think you can guess why it ends in flames,” he murmurs, lowering his arm again, obscuring it slightly from my view.

  “Were you that angry with me you branded your body with our unfinished song?” I ask, my voice a little quiet. Over the years, I have played this song. I’ve played it past the point he has it on his tattoo, and every time I’ve played it, I’ve wished for our friendship back. I wanted to show him what I came up with. It’s al
ways meant a lot to me, so I guess it’s a little upsetting that he sees it as a bad thing.

  “Yeah. I was. But that doesn’t matter now. We know none of it was true,” he reminds me, reaching out to take my hand. He lifts it and presses his lips to my knuckles, tugging me gently toward him. “We can finish it if you like. I can change the tattoo.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  “Can I play it?” I ask, pulling back from him slightly and reaching for my violin again.

  “I’d like that,” he whispers, settling back against the headboard to watch me as I hold my violin and bow ready. “Do you need the sheet music?” he smiles, lifting his arm over his head to display the full tattoo.

  “Why not,” I smile, knowing the song by heart, but liking him in that pose.

  I take a deep breath and start, sliding my bow back and forth over the strings as the solemn tune fills every corner of the room and every corner of my heart. It’s always been a way I felt connected to him, it’s always reminded me of how much I missed him. Now, I play it, and I rejoice in the fact that he managed to come back into my life.

  The music mirrors that fact, starting off calm, before becoming sorrowful and then light again, happy. There’s a beauty to it, an emotion that speaks to me and holds me in its arms. It’s all me and all him, and as I play the last note, I’m smiling.

  When I open my eyes, he’s smiling too, a look of pure love fixed upon his features. “You finished it,” he breathes. “It was perfect.”

  “We make a good team.” I put my violin and bow on the bed beside me.

  “Yeah. We really do,” he returns, taking my face in his hands and kissing me before his hand drifts down to my naked breast. I giggle.

  “I might need you to show me how great we are together one more time.”

  He pushes me on the bed and climbs over me, capturing my hands either side of my head. “Gladly.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Naomi

  “Shit, where is he?” Theo demands as he paces the dressing room before our final Melbourne show.

  “I don’t know. He left with some chicks last night. I don’t know where he went,” Lachlan says.

  “He was trashed too. But I just thought he was blowing off some steam. He’s been on the straight and narrow for most of the tour. I just thought that since Melbourne is a bit of a party city he was trying to have some fun. We had no idea he’d take off and not come back,” Jack adds, obviously feeling responsible.

  “Fuck,” Theo yells, pegging his phone at the floor after yet another unsuccessful attempt to contact Marcus.

  “Fifteen minutes, guys,” the stage manager says as he pokes his head in the door. Theo growls and runs his hand over his head, causing his hair to stick up all over the place. “Everything all right?” he asks, looking pointedly at each of us.

  “It’s fine. We’re fine,” I say quickly, moving towards him and shutting the door before turning back to a freaked-out Theo.

  “What the hell are we going to do?” he gasps, completely at his wits end.

  “I’ll go and talk to Dan. Maybe they have someone who can drum, and you can front?”

  Theo just looks at me, his eyes wide as beads of sweat break the surface of his skin. I grab his face on either side and look into his eyes, smoothing my thumbs over the creases above his brow.

  “Calm down. We can fix this.” I lean towards him, kissing him softly, not caring what the others think at this point. This is too important.

  His hands fly up to grip my face as well, as his kiss deepens and he inhales deeply, like he’s trying to breathe me in. I rest my forehead against his, breathing heavily.

  Jack nudges Lachlan. “Pay up. She chose Theo. You owe me a hundred bucks.”

  “Shit man,” Lachlan grumbles, pulling out his wallet. “I only have a fifty.”

  As he holds it out, Jack snatches it from his hand and shoves it in his pocket. “Close enough,” he says.

  Theo and I stand there, still holding onto each other as we watch our bassist and keyboardist settle their bet.

  “What?” Lachlan bounces a shoulder as he notices our unimpressed expressions. “We knew she’d pick one of you.”

  “And you bet against me?” Theo asks.

  “Yeah. Sorry man. But well done and all that. What’s Marcus think of all this?” he responds.

  “I’m guessing he’s pretty pissed off, mate. Since he’s not here and all,” Jack suggests.

  “He doesn’t know,” Theo says before he looks at me and frowns. “He couldn’t know?”

  I know as much as he does and offer a bounce of my shoulders. “How would he?”

  It was at that moment Marcus decides to burst through the door. On each arm, laughing like some sort of gangster-pimp-wannabe, he drags in a couple of women who, from the way they’re dressed, would be more at home draped over the bonnet of a car than they would be backstage at a concert. I have never seen such large fake breasts on an actual person before, and it’s not until Theo lifts my chin to close my mouth that I realise I had it hanging open.

  “Dude,” Jack says, looking Marcus over and shaking his head. “This is a whole new level of crazy. Get your fucking act together. We’re on in like, ten minutes.”

  “No worries. I’m good to go. In fact, thanks to these ladies, I’m amazing,” he claims, kissing them both on the tops of their bleached heads as they giggle and cuddle up to him.

  “What are their names?” I ask, unable to keep the disdain from my voice.

  He looks at me and laughs.

  “Listen, we don’t have time for this shit. Let’s just get our arses into gear and get out there,” Theo grumbles.

  I lean down and pick up my violin, my body buzzing with anger as I think about what Marcus is doing and how he could have very well ruined the show for us tonight. After all the work Theo has put into this band, and all the work we’ve done together, he almost hung us out to dry.

  Marcus leaves his bitches at the side of the stage, right near where I used to stand to watch Radio Silence. They wave and squeal while blowing kisses at him when he trots out on stage like the prized stallion. His cocky attitude just makes my blood boil more. What the hell has gotten into him?

  “Hello Melbourne!” he booms into the microphone. “For those of you who don’t know us, we are Matiari. Thanks so much for coming out early to see us.”

  He slips easily into his on-stage persona, and the crowd loves it. Especially tonight. He’s radiating energy, and I wonder if he’s actually taken something to make him like this. He’s a live wire.

  After he introduces the first song, I calm down, he plays and sings as seamlessly as always, running through what now feels like a script. The same songs, the same words, night after night. We’re OK. He’s OK.

  Every night we make more fans, and despite repeating the same performance, the adulation is enough that it leaves you wanting more. Just knowing that people love the music you’re making is enough to make you want to live up here, listening to screaming fans forever. I sneak a few glances at Theo, who winks at me, grinning and obviously feeling the magic up here just like I am.

  I get my violin ready for the last song, expecting Marcus to go through his usual spiel, but he doesn’t. He goes off on a tangent. Oh god. Not this again.

  “I’ll bet you guys are loving Naomi, right?” he calls out, heading over to my side of the stage. The crowd cheers, and I smile and wave at them before I frown, concerned about where this is going. It feels a lot like our first show when Marcus stuck his tongue down my throat in front of everyone, but it also feels different. The way Marcus looks at me, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip, gives me a sense of foreboding. What is he going to do?

  I glance at Theo, needing reassurance, but his expression darkens as his jaw clenches and he glares at his brother. I can practically feel the rage radiating off him from here. This isn’t good.

  Marcus pulls my microphone from the stand and holds it
to his lips. “Yeah. I love Naomi too.” His expression is calm and serious as he looks me in the eye. I feel a slight stabbing in my chest as dread fills my stomach. What the hell is he going to do?

  He places my microphone back in the stand then takes a couple of steps away from me, returning to his mic before addressing the audience again. “Now, Naomi is a fan of Aiden Price.” The crowd screams at the mention of his name. “No, he won’t be here tonight, but I get that a lot of you are probably fans as well. Actually, I am too. A while back, as a bit of a treat, we did his song I Recall. But tonight, I’d like to do something a little different. I have a special song, just for Naomi. This one is called Weighted.”

  Holy. Fuck. No.

  Immediately, his fingers start moving over his guitar, playing the intro to the song. My mouth drops open and I look at Theo, who seems furious, but to save face he picks up the beat when he’s supposed to, shaking his head from side to side the entire time. Marcus leans into the microphone to sing.

  All I wanted was you to let me in

  To be true to me and not true to him

  You can’t choose me now

  It’s far too late

  It presses on me

  Like a heavy weight

  All I want is for you to share your mind

  If we shared our thoughts

  Who knows what we’d find

  We weren’t looking

  There was too much on our plate

  It presses on me

  Like a heavy…

  My stomach sours when Theo hits out the beat that means the chorus is coming, because I’m living my own personal, but very public, nightmare. Singing this song can mean only one thing. Marcus knows I’ve chosen Theo.

 

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