Saving Her Harem

by Alexis Adaire

  Saving Her Harem

  Alexis Adaire

  Twisted Pair Publishing

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Free Preview of Alexis Adaire’s “Nailed”

  Thanks for reading!

  Also by Alexis Adaire

  About the Author

  Prologue

  IAN

  Three encores.

  Madison Square Garden crowds are like no other crowds on the planet. I don’t know what it is about this city or this arena, but every show we’ve ever done here has been balls-out amazing and tonight might have been the best yet.

  The excitement built throughout the show and each encore whipped the fans into an even bigger frenzy. We step to the front of the stage and stand side-by-side, arms wrapped around one another as we take our bows. Nick throws his drumsticks into the crowd, and I toss them a couple dozen guitar picks. Jason peels off his already-unbuttoned shirt and hands it to an adoring front-row chick.

  This night has been glorious. Absolutely fucking glorious.

  We hurry off the stage, the applause not diminishing one bit. That’s when I see her, standing there in the wings, watching.

  The woman I love.

  The woman all five of us love.

  Kelsey is grinning from ear to ear, as thrilled with the show as the band is. I wink as I pass her to hand my guitar to my guitar tech, but she surprises me by jumping on my back, throwing her arms around my neck and wrapping her legs around my waist.

  “You were incredible!” She has to shout to be heard over the din of the crowd.

  Jason is lagging behind, soaking up an extra few seconds of applause since he’s always the last one off the stage. Now Kelsey hops off my back and flings herself into his sweaty arms, pressing against his slick bare chest.

  “And YOU! Oh my God.” She kisses him passionately. His eyes briefly catch mine and I grin at my best friend as he kisses the woman I love.

  There’s no jealousy at all. She’s as much his as she is mine.

  Kelsey walks with us through the arena corridors as we hurry past roadies, security, press, and the inevitable groupies. Ahead of us we see Zilla, Nick and Brandon as they enter the green room. Kelsey tugs on us just outside the door and pulls our heads to hers.

  “If I don’t fuck both of you as soon as possible, I’m going to explode.”

  “Together?” Jason asks with a dirty smile.

  Before Kelsey can answer, three women come rushing towards us.

  “Jason!”

  It seems like they all squeal his name simultaneously. They’re very young, possibly still in their teens. Quite lovely, too.

  “Sorry, girls,” Jason says, “we’ve got plans.” He grabs Kelsey by the wrist and pulls her into the green room.

  I hesitate for a second. “Hot, young and willing” used to be our motto. Now I just shake my head, still amazed at what has happened to us bad boy rockers.

  The fact is, I don’t need or want groupies anymore. I’ve got everything I could possibly want. We all feel that way.

  Ducking into the green room, I lock the door behind me.

  I go right to where Nick, Brandon and Zilla stand talking and say, “Hey, Jason and I need to leave now to take Kelsey back to the apartment. Can you guys deal with the press tonight?”

  They’re happy to oblige, since Jason and I, as lead singer and guitarist, usually end up being the focus of interviews. The other three will no doubt enjoy their moment in the full spotlight.

  Moments later, Jason and Kelsey tumble with me into the back of a waiting limo. We haven’t even stopped sweating yet.

  Kelsey immediately unzips my pants, and when Jason sees her, he quickly raises the privacy barrier between us and the driver.

  My cock is already hard when Kelsey slides her lips over it, and I look on with fascination as she gives me enthusiastic head while simultaneously reaching a hand over to free Jason’s cock. She’s as horny as I’ve ever seen her.

  We arrive at the apartment in no time and must be quite the sight as we hurry past the doorman, two rockers and their gorgeous lady. In the elevator, Jason’s and my hands are all over Kelsey.

  We reach the door of the apartment, Kelsey now in her bra with her pants undone. Her shirt remained in the elevator.

  Within minutes, Kelsey is naked on her hands and knees in the bed, voraciously sucking me. She moans wantonly as Jason slides his hard-on into her from behind.

  I watch her lips work my slick cock in the dim light, and my heart seems to expand. Sure, this is sex, but there’s a special magic in watching a woman you’re in love with perform this enthusiastically.

  I look across her body, from her hair to her back to Jason holding onto her hips as he plunges into her. Glancing up, I see Jason staring at me. My longtime buddy doesn’t miss a stroke as he gives me a look, a distinct one that I’ve only seen a few times before: when we signed our first record contract, in the middle of our first show as arena headliners, and when Harem was announced as winners of the Grammy for Record of the Year.

  He’s right. Life is fucking wonderful.

  An hour later, I lie on one side of Kelsey, with Jason on the other. A Kelsey sandwich, with two members of Harem as the bread. They’ve both drifted off to sleep. The light of New York City comes through the window and casts a silver-blue glow on her peaceful face.

  She’s so fucking beautiful. And it’s not just her looks; Kelsey is ambitious, smart, funny, adventurous, great in bed… name any positive trait a woman can possibly have, and she has more than her share of it. It’s almost unfair to other women. And maybe the most important aspect of all about Kelsey: She swooped in and saved Harem when we needed it.

  How could we NOT love a woman like that?

  The sentiment behind that look Jason gave me earlier was spot-on. It doesn’t get any better than this.

  We’re rock stars. We’re rich, young and handsome.

  And we’ve found the woman of our dreams.

  1

  I wake up and have no idea what time it is.

  Hell, I don’t even know what city I’m in or whose bed this is.

  There’s a warm body behind me, an arm wrapped around me, a hand lazily cupping my breast. And that’s definitely an erection I feel pressed against my naked butt. I’m being spooned, though the faint snoring behind my head tells me that the owner of this hard-on isn’t aware of his nocturnal seduction.

  I concentrate on my bed partner.

  That’s Jason’s cock. I can tell just by how it feels nestled against me.

  A grin creeps across my face.

  Oh, that’s right. I’m in love with Jason Stone, singer for the band Harem.

  In fact, I’m in love with the whole damn band. And them with me.

  Only that can’t possibly be true. I’ve got to be dreaming. This must be some kind of twisted fantasy that sprouted while I slept tonight.

  The hand on my tit is definitely real, though, as is the hard-on pressed deliciously to my ass.

  I crack open my eyes and see a window, looking out over a vast sea of lights. My sleepy mind registers that this has to be New York City.

  A door opens and the light that leaks in hurts my eyes. Through my squint, I see the form of a naked man in the doorway, his muscular, chiseled body breathtaking in silhouette. Then the door shuts and I can�
��t see a damn thing.

  A second later, I feel him slipping into the bed with me, sliding over and kissing me softly on the lips. I recognize his taste as Ian, Harem’s sultry guitarist. That’s when my fuzzy brain starts to clear.

  I had sex with these two tonight. I remember it now, and the delicious soreness between my legs confirms that it happened recently.

  My grin widens and I sit up in bed, the hand on my breast falling lazily to my lap.

  “You okay?” Ian whispers. “You look funny.”

  My brain continues to focus, and my eyes adapt to the reduced light again.

  “Kelsey?”

  Looking around the room, I realize this is my bedroom, in my apartment in Manhattan’s West Village.

  Everything comes back to me all at once: The tour with Harem, an endless string of hotel rooms and private jet flights, sold-out concert after sold-out concert, the new hit song…

  Not to mention being in love with five men simultaneously, without a single big issue coming up in the three months we’ve been together.

  And of course, sex with all of them, in every imaginable configuration.

  “Kelsey, you’re behaving rather oddly.”

  The concern in Eric’s English-accented voice sounds like love to me.

  “I’m fine, baby,” I whisper. “Just forgot where I was for a second.”

  For the past three months, I’ve been on tour with Harem. Eighty-three shows in more than seventy cities.

  I’m the band’s girlfriend, their “tour wife.”

  I am deeply smitten with each of these five men, and them with me, apparently—at least that’s what they say, and the emotion seems genuine.

  I’m still blown away that this happened to me, of all people.

  I used to be a fan, now Harem is sharing me.

  “I’m going to get some water,” I say, kissing Ian’s forehead. As I slide out of bed, I look behind me to see Jason’s sleeping face, his long golden hair cascading all around the pillow. His cock, silvery in the light from the window, is so beautifully hard that the very sight of it brings a warmth between my legs.

  I walk naked into the living room. I see my furniture, my belongings, and feel viscerally how much I’ve missed this place. Tour life is exciting, but that endless string of expensive hotel suites gets old much faster than I would ever have imagined.

  The TV is on, the main source of light in the darkened room. From behind the couch, I see two heads. It’s Nick, the drummer, and Zilla, the tall bassist.

  Without a word, I walk right in front of the TV and stand there. Nick is clad only in boxer briefs, his tattooed chest and belly on display. Zilla is also shirtless and my attention is grabbed by his carved abs and the slight trail of hair leading into his black jeans. Their eyes light up at the sight of my nude body and I can’t help but grin. It’s always such a rush to see these hot men react to my nakedness.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Zilla says in that thrillingly deep voice, patting the couch between them. Nick smiles, and I love the contrast between these two; fun-loving, mischievous Nick and dark, intense Zilla. Nick uses the remote to turn off the TV, then casually tosses it over his shoulder where it clatters across the floor. The room darkens, suddenly illuminated only by the city lights streaming through the window. Everything turns shades of gray, silver, and indigo.

  “When did you guys get here?” I ask. “And why didn’t you come join us in the bedroom?”

  “Your bed ain’t big enough for five people,” Zilla says. “Plus, we were frazzled after dealing with the press.”

  “Bet I can un-frazzle you.” I give him a sly smile.

  “We’re both counting on that.”

  “Where’s Brandon?” I ask. The keyboard player is the newest and youngest member of Harem.

  “Hanging out with his Julliard friends, remember?” Nick says.

  That’s right. Brandon mentioned before the show that he was meeting friends afterward.

  Tonight’s concert was the second of three at Madison Square Garden, with a third tomorrow night—the final show of the tour. I remember being so filled with lust after watching them play tonight that I begged Jason and Ian to bring me here immediately. I laugh to myself when I recall the frenzied limo ride and my being stripped in the elevator. I get so worked up watching my men play.

  An hour’s worth of scorching hot sex with those two exhausted me and I fell asleep.

  But now I’m awake and my other two guys, Nick and Zilla, need me.

  I know it seems absurd, two threesomes in one night, but my five famous, talented men and I have had an unfathomable three months together.

  It’s not just sex, either. We have an outrageous amount of fun hanging out. On the rare nights off during the tour, we’ve arranged to clear billiard rooms and game arcades for our own use. After the final show in LA, they somehow managed to get into Disneyland at midnight, for fuck’s sake. From then until dawn, it was just us and enough employees to operate the rides.

  But I can’t lie, there has been lots and lots of sex. I was initially afraid that I wouldn’t be able to keep them all happy, but I’ve surprised myself by how big my appetite is. The fact that they’re all so goddamn gorgeous certainly doesn’t hurt.

  Servicing the members of a famous rock band whenever they’re in the mood would seem impossible, at least for me. But five men who all move my heart, each to a different distinct rhythm? That’s easy.

  These have been the most exciting three months of my life, no question.

  So much fun and so much love.

  And yeah, so much sex. I’ve had more sex in that short span than most women have in a lifetime.

  Nick rests a hand gently on my thigh and I can see the bulge growing in his underwear. Without hesitation, I place my hand on it and stroke him slowly.

  I still pinch myself daily so I know I’m not dreaming. I feel so loved, so adored.

  I sit there with Nick and Zilla, relishing the sensuous feeling of being naked between them as Nick’s cock continues to grow harder under my palm.

  Looking at the glowing-blue digital clock on the cable box, I see that it’s 3:30 a.m. That would have seemed late to me in my previous life, but time becomes meaningless when you’re on tour with a rock band. The only time that matters is show time.

  “I love you guys,” I say.

  As the words leave my lips, it dawns on me how utterly content I am for the first time in years.

  Maybe trying to resume my high-stress, nerve-racking career isn’t such a great idea after all.

  I slip Nick’s cock out of his underwear and lean over, sliding my lips down his hard shaft. As I do, I feel Zilla’s fingers trace down my lower back, slowly arriving at my already-wet pussy.

  In no time, I feel Zilla shift on the couch, positioning himself behind me. I take my mouth off Nick for a moment, continuing to stroke him as I wait for the moment I’ve grown to love. My breath hitches as Zilla gently but firmly begins to push his giant cock into me.

  Holy fuck, I love everything about this night, and this moment. I have what millions of girls would love to have.

  Why would I ever want to be separated from Harem? I’ve found my paradise. I don’t want this to end, ever.

  Maybe it’s not insane to think it could last forever.

  I mean, what could possibly come between us?

  That’s when it dawns on me that after the tour, which ends tomorrow, I can no longer really be their “tour wife.”

  The band and I had decided they would all remain in Manhattan for a week after tonight. We rented a brownstone near my apartment for an astronomical sum, and we were all supposed to hang out while I do my best to decide whether I want to resume my career as a high-profile image rehabilitator.

  Other than that, there has been zero discussion of the long-term future, apart from a few scattered silly comments and jokes. I realize they’ve been wrapped up in this huge tour, with four semi-trucks full of equipment and dozens of roadies and sound and lighting
technicians.

  This is the big business side of rock star life, I get that. But now that it’s coming to an end, what happens?

  What if they don’t want me to be part of their lives any longer?

  I try to focus on the blowjob I’m giving, and on the massive cock gently sliding in and out of me, but I can’t quite shake the foreboding thoughts.

  What if this is all about to come to a screeching halt?

  What if I’m just hours away from losing my men—my Harem—forever?

  2

  Brandon says goodbye to a half-dozen friends as we stand on the sidewalk outside an upscale Manhattan restaurant. He had called me earlier to invite me to meet them for a very early dinner. I could tell he enjoyed treating his old Julliard friends to a nice meal on his dime, courtesy of his now being a highly paid rock star. Having someone at a nearby table recognize him and ask for an autograph was icing on the cake.

  Someone asked Brandon if he would be staying on with the band now, and he just shrugged. That’s a topic the band hasn’t brought up at this point, and Brandon is reluctant to push them on the issue. Jordan Maris, the original keyboard player, won’t be in rehab forever, and his wealth and fame helped him avoid any charges in the overdose death of the prostitute he was with when the shit hit the fan. Jordan’s not exactly a beloved figure in his native England these days, though, so his possible return to Harem is a sticky subject.

  Brandon and I walk arm-in-arm toward Madison Square Garden. The concert doesn’t start until eight, but there’s an early sound check. We arrive and head toward the back entrance, but already a couple dozen fans are waiting for a glimpse of Harem.