Danica didn’t hold any ill will toward the actress, however, so that’s where the similarities ended. At the moment, she very much wanted to strangle her agent.
“Oh don’t look at me like that. I tried to call, and text. Answer your phone next time.” Sophie folded her arms over her chest, coming off more like a corporate business woman in her navy power suit and white shirt, than an agent many of the models teasingly referred to as ‘their pimp’. “Since neither of you felt the need to be out of bed before noon, Mr. Cole and I got together for coffee and discussed your agenda for the next month or so.”
The woman’s lost her mind! Danica stared at her. “The next month?”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Alder reached over the side of the bed, picking up her shirt and handing it to her before grabbing his own. He tied his long black hair at the nape of his neck, scowling at his manager. “Our agenda is not up for discussion.”
“Is that so?” Cole let out a cold laugh and shook his head. He reminded Danica a bit of what James Dean might have looked like if he’d lived another 20 years and kept his youthful figure. He was dressed just as sharply as Sophie. They’d both come prepared to make this all about business. “You didn’t seem surprised that photographers were following you in any of the pictures flooding Facebook and Twitter this morning. I’m assuming she told you she needs to use you for her image?”
“I told him everything.” Danica jerked her shirt on, internally wincing as she heard it tear, but keeping her face carefully neutral. Cole seemed like an asshole, but she’d had to work with assholes before. And Sophie wouldn’t have brought him here without a damn good reason. “I’m not sure what you were hoping to prove, bursting in like this…” She glanced over at Sophie who, as expected, didn’t look the least bit sorry. “Give us a minute to get straightened up and we’ll meet you in the lobby.”
Pressing her lips together, letting Danica know without words that she wasn’t very happy with her, Sophie inclined her head. She met Cole’s eyes and gave him a tight smile. “After you.”
Cole shot Alder a warning look, then walked out with Sophie. A good sign at least. Whatever they’d discussed, the manager had clearly decided Danica wasn’t beneath his guitarist.
Except, he caught me ‘beneath’ his guitarist.
Danica sighed, dropping back on the bed with her hands over her eyes. “I am so sorry about this. Sophie’s name is always on my rooms and I should have considered she wouldn’t think twice about getting a key card from the front desk.”
Taking hold of her wrists, Alder pulled her hands away from her face and leaned down to kiss her. “Don’t be sorry. Cole probably spent the night trying to figure out who you were, then got your agent on the phone. She was probably worried, but he’s playing some angle.”
“So am I.”
“I happen to like your angle.” He brushed his lips across her cheek to whisper in her ear. “There were no cameras here last night. None this morning. Don’t you dare let anyone ruin this for you.”
“Or what?”
He grinned, drawing back a little to meet her eyes. “It’s little early in the relationship for me to spank you, but we haven’t been conventional about anything else.”
Fuck. She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, holding his gaze, trying to figure out if he was joking. His smile hadn’t slipped, but she had the strangest impression that he was testing her reaction. If she freaked, he’d laugh it off. If she didn’t…
She should make it clear there was no way he’d ever spank her. Except, the idea had her cheeks blazing and sent heat spilling into her core. The subtle, erotic threat had her imagining all the other things he could do to her after he finished reddening her ass with his hand.
Nothing with him would be boring, that was for sure.
Unfortunately, staying in here to explore what he’d do next would only result in Sophie and Cole coming back to find them. Their best bet would be to get the meeting over with.
Fingers crossed that they had any free time once the pair were done with them.
She sighed again and Alder chuckled. “You don’t have to say a word. Want me to go down and keep them busy while you jump in the shower?”
“No, that’s all right. Sophie might keep things brief if she’s worried about me being photographed looking like I just spent the day in bed.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets as they stepped into the hall, he shrugged. “Considering how important tarnishing up your image is, I don’t think you looking like you just crawled out of my bed will be a problem.”
True, but he was missing one very important fact. She bumped his shoulder with hers as they stopped to wait for the elevator. “You forget, I brought you back to my room. All modern woman, claiming my man like a boss.”
“Claiming me, huh?” He gave her a hooded look as the elevator doors opened and he pulled her inside. “Take a bit more than a few kisses to ‘claim me’, sweetheart.”
“We don’t have time for more.”
“We have some.”
The doors closed and he lifted her up, his kisses leaving her flushed and rumpled and damn giddy by the time they stepped off onto the main floor. She seriously hoped Sophie and Cole would make this quick.
They didn’t. Actually, within minutes of dragging her and Alder to the hotel restaurant for sparkling water and salad—Alder’s manager ordered for him right after Sophie ordered for Danica—their day was planned out. Alder had to go back to his hotel, make himself presentable, and then get the band together. And while he did, Danica was being dragged to a hairdresser Sophie had worked with in Vegas before.
And she didn’t need to shower or get changed first. Of course not. After her hair appointment, she had a local casting call Sophie wanted her to check out. She could slip into one of the outfits Sophie had in her rental on the way.
There wasn’t enough time to do more than eat and say a quick goodbye to Alder before Sophie towed her away. And Sophie had absolutely no sympathy when Danica pointed out how rude she’d been. She led the way to the parking garage, jotting down notes on her phone.
“He’s busy. You’re busy. Now stop pouting, you’re creasing your forehead.” Sophie’s tone softened as Danica slid into the passenger seat. She patted Danica’s cheek. “Honey, you need to slow down a little, okay? You were supposed to play to the cameras, not get involved with a dirty rock star.”
“He’s not a dirty rock star. Don’t be a snob, Sophie.”
“Fine, maybe he’s a nice boy. And if he is, that’s great.” Sophie closed the door, heading around the car to get in behind the wheel. “You’ll have plenty of time to find out exactly who he is.”
Danica leaned back against the headrest and let out a dry laugh. “When? Did you schedule another date?”
“Of course not, you don’t have that much time.” Sophie shot her a wicked smile. “But you’ll be together for long enough to figure out if you love him, or hate him.”
“We will?”
“Absolutely. There’s nothing like a road trip to define a relationship.” Sophie’s smile widened when Danica furrowed her brow with confusion. “You’re going on tour with the band. Cole will give you all the details when we go meet the rest of his boys.”
“On tour…” Danica’s eyes widened. She’d considered maybe heading to LA with them, but this sounded like a lot more. “For how long?”
“That depends. Right now, Cole has proposed an arrangement that is beneficial to you and the band. No reason for you not to try for the gig here, you can meet them in LA if necessary. Then you can commit to working with them for the duration of our agreement.” Her eyes hardened a little, reminding Danica that Sophie hadn’t become as successful as she was by playing nice. “Until you get a better offer.”
A better offer… Well, that told her one thing. Being sent on tour wasn’t simply about her image anymore. Cole was looking to hire her. His ‘proposal’ wasn’t up to Sophie’s standards, but it was a job and it
would get Danica some exposure.
If all went down like Sophie intended, the offers would come. And Danica would be doing photo shoots all over the world again. She might get casted for TV shows. Or even movies.
And it would happen fast. All she and Sophie had worked for.
Exactly what Danica wanted.
Except, it meant Sophie was wrong about one thing.
I don’t have much time at all.
Chapter Five
The sloped, white screen canopy covering Fremont Street was blank at the moment, but it provided shelter from the glaring sun. Jesse dodged slow walking families of tourists as he made his way to the Golden Nugget, checking his phone to make sure he hadn’t gotten a text from Malakai, telling him they’d switched machines.
He found the guys near the exit, Tate slumped, half asleep, against a slot machine, while Malakai stood behind Brave, arms folded, not looking too impressed.
Brave shook his head and pulled out his wallet, taking out a twenty. “Fucking chill out, Malakai. I set myself a limit. I haven’t hit it yet.”
“If your limit is over three hundred dollars, you’re an idiot.” Malakai grumbled, snatching the twenty out of Brave’s hand. “But more importantly, you haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.” Brave glanced over at Tate and let out a sharp laugh. “Or the boy. Why are you riding my ass?”
“Because you’re acting like a fucking child.”
“Right. Well, I guess the sympathy didn’t last long. No one asked you to stay with me.”
Jesse met Malakai’s eyes, jutting his chin toward the exit so he could have a moment alone with Brave. Once Malakai got Tate on his feet and started off, Jesse put his hand on Brave’s shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have hung out with the other roadies so late. I thought you’d crashed for the night.” He squeezed the tense muscles under his hand. “What happened?”
Brave lowered his head to his hand and sighed. “We were all heading to bed, but Tate wanted to talk about some shit, and I have a few bottles of the good stuff in my room, so we headed there to wind down after the party. We didn’t stay long. Someone left fucking white rose petals on my bed. In a puddle of what looked like blood. And there was a note.”
“Damn it, why didn’t you call me?” They were going to have to hire security if this kept up. Between Tate getting his ass kicked, and whoever the fuck was messing with Brave, Jesse couldn’t protect the band on his own anymore. “What did the note say?”
Reaching into his pocket, Brave pulled out his phone, then showed Jesse a picture of a crumpled piece of paper.
‘You’d be immortal if you’d died’.
Almost the exact same thing the man who’d attacked Brave onstage had said.
What the fuck is going on? He gnashed his teeth in frustration. I should have been with him.
“I didn’t call you because Malakai insisted we call the cops. And they checked the room and filed a report. And that’s it. The hotel offered me another room, but I was too wired to sleep.” Brave shrugged. “If I’d called you, you would have flipped out. I just wanted to forget all this shit.”
“By blowing all your money on the slots?”
“Something like that.”
At a loss at what to say, Jesse moved his hand to the back of Brave’s neck. The man was usually responsible with money, so there was no point to lecturing him. Malakai had covered that anyway. Sleep was another issue. Brave would go for days without slowing when something got to him. And some crazy fucker having broken into his room was definitely getting to him.
“I’m not tired.” Lips slanting, as though Brave was aware of how childish he sounded; he pushed away from the slot machine and stood. “I could eat.”
Considering how much they’d had to drink last night, food was a very good idea. Jesse put his arm over Brave’s shoulder as they headed out to Fremont. They walked with Malakai and Tate, who looked ready to take a nap on the sidewalk, until they reached the end of the street. Then both he and Malakai called a cab.
Assured that Malakai would see to the young drummer, Jesse got Brave in the second cab, giving directions to the Motel 6 on Tropicana, where he was staying. In his room, he shoved a change of clothes at Brave, then directed him to the bathroom for a shower while he ordered some pizza.
It was close to noon. Pizza and chicken wings would suffice until after he got the man to bed.
Having Brave in his room would normally have him thinking with his dick, but he couldn’t shake the heavy weight of unease in his gut at the idea of Brave having a fucking stalker.
He didn’t have any control over how the band handled travel, or who they hired, but he managed the roadies. A few of them were big enough to double as security if Cole rejected the idea of hiring professionals. Two were ex-military and they might have some buddies looking for work if Cole would let him take on some new hires.
He’d tried to keep his relationship with Brave low-key, but fuck Cole’s ‘rules’. If nothing else, he’d be sharing a room with Brave when they weren’t on the bus. And he’d be sleeping on the bus, even if it meant he had to sleep on the sofa because all the band’s shit was filling the empty bunks.
Since Brave probably hadn’t informed Cole about what had gone down last night, Jesse called him, cursing when he was redirected to voicemail. The manager wasn’t a bad guy, but he saw the roadies as beneath him. If he talked to Jesse, it was because he needed something done. Otherwise, he figured Brave or Alder would deal with the crew.
Fuck him.
Jesse answered the door to the delivery boy, paid the kid, then set the pizzas with the drinks and box of chicken wings stacked on top on the desk at the other side of the room. He’d polished off two slices by the time Brave came out of the bathroom.
Wearing nothing but a towel.
Fucker.
Reclining on the bed, a sly smile on his lips, Brave held out a hand like he was some kind of goddamn prince, waiting to be served. His diva routine pissed off most of the crew, but Jesse just laughed, knowing the lead singer loved messing with people. Those who assumed he was full of himself, he didn’t bother with. His real friends called him on his shit.
“If you’re too tired to get your own food, you’re eating it cold.” Jesse grabbed a chicken wing and ripped a chunk of the delicious meat off with his teeth, grinning when Brave let out an irritated huff. “I’m your boyfriend, not your butler.”
“I thought boyfriends were supposed to be sweet.” Brave sucked his teeth at Jesse’s shrug. He slid across the bed, leaning off the edge until he could almost reach the pizza box. He grunted his thanks as Jesse passed him a piece. After chewing for a bit, Brave swallowed and lifted his head. “Listen, I’m sorry Malakai dragged you into this. I didn’t—”
“How about being sorry you didn’t call me yourself?”
“That too.”
The man had to be the worst boyfriend Jesse had ever had. Then again, he had a feeling he was Brave’s first real boyfriend. Between LOST and Winter’s Wrath, Brave had been living the ‘rock star’ life for almost ten years. Why bother with commitment when you had fans throwing themselves at you?
Grabbing his arm, Brave tugged Jesse down to lie beside him on the bed. “It really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Jesse lifted his shoulder dismissively. “But it’s done. Right now, we’re gonna get some rest. Then I’ll have a chat with Cole about how to keep you safe.”
The edge of Brave’s lip twitched. His gaze focused on Jesse’s mouth. “I’m feeling pretty damn safe at the moment.”
Considering the man only wore a towel that was useless in covering his hardening erection, Jesse certainly hoped so. He smirked at Brave. “Is that what you’re feeling?”
“Hmm.” Brave moved closer, flicking his tongue over Jesse’s lips. “Something like that.”
Anyone who knew Brave would call Jesse a liar if he told them nothing had happened between them besides a few really hot, stolen kisses.
Not just because they were on tour and privacy was a joke if you even managed to find a dark corner and an hour away from the entourage that trailed the band. Brave found ways to get what he wanted, but he hadn’t pushed for more.
Jesse had made it damn clear he wanted to take his time. And Brave respected that. He’d been serious about proving himself and all Jesse’s doubts had faded over the last week. Fine, Brave still hadn’t opened up as much as he’d like him to, but that would come in time.
“Fuck this shit.” Jesse shoved Brave onto his back, displacing the towel and claiming his mouth with bruising pressure as he fisted his hand around Brave’s dick. He breathed in Brave’s harsh exhale, curving his free hand around the back of Brave’s neck.
Their bodies aligned as he moved over Brave, too lost in the moment to care that he was still fully dressed. He was careful to keep his full weight off the man, he knew he was much heavier, with all the muscles he’d gained from hauling around the band’s equipment, refusing help whenever possible because he didn’t trust anyone to be as careful as he was with the guitars and the drums and the amps.
Brave was one of those weird people that forgot to eat when they got wrapped up in their obsessions. He had a band that badgered him enough to keep him from getting too skinny, but the body writhing under Jesse was all muscle and bone. Strong and sleek, moving the same way he did on stage that made all the women scream like they would climax as they thrashed around to the music.
He moved down Brave’s body, loving all the desperate, throaty sounds Brave was making. He’d been around Brave seducing both men and women for a quick fuck, and the man was always in control. There was something about Brave that oozed sex, but he collected lovers, not like notches on his belt, but more like they were brief reminders that he was alive. Maybe Jesse worried too much, and yet, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that Brave still struggled to deal with the grief of the eldest Trousseau brother’s death. It had been years, so most assumed he was over it. But they didn’t know Brave.
Backlash (Winter's Wrath #1) Page 8
