by Moore, Sasha
Cerise Preston peered over the top of her rhinestone-rimmed reading glasses, pinning BVR’s fastest rising star, a young Mr. James “Sugar” Matteson to his chair with an icy stare.
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re not going to sign the new contract, James?” she demanded coolly, arching an eyebrow in utter disbelief. Cerise may have been tiny, barely 5’7” even with the assistance of her red-bottomed Louboutin pumps, but when it came to the music business, she was a force to be reckoned with. The young R&B singer squirmed in his chair, hitching at the shoulders of his shirt and not lifting his eyes from the unsigned contract in front of him.
“It’s just like, you know…I’m goin’ out and doin’ all the gigs, and signin’ autographs and stuff, and it seems like I should be gettin’ a bigger cut of the money, you know?” the uncomfortable young man tried to be assertive, but was clearly out of his depth.
“Do you have any concept of how expensive it is to do what I do for you, James?” Cerise pressed. “Because let me just tell you, when you work with BVR, you work with the very best, and honey, that ain’t cheap,” she drilled him with a glare.
“I like workin’ with y’all and everything,” Sugar admitted, painfully unsure of himself, “but I just, you know, I think I deserve more. I ain’t askin’ for too much, just a little bit more, you know,” the youth shrugged, looking hopefully into Cerise’s uncompromising eyes. Blake sat forward as if to speak, but the formidable Ms. Preston silenced him with a glance before he could open his mouth.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Sugar,” she took off her glasses and offered her hand, professionally cool. The befuddled youth took it and shook it briefly, not understanding what was going on. “Best of luck to you,” she said dismissively, opening the door for him to leave and staring at him pointedly until he rose uncertainly from his chair, looked from Blake to Cerise, and shuffled past, head down.
“What the fuck did you just do?” Blake exploded as soon as they heard the elevator shush shut behind the downcast James Matteson. “That boy is our biggest producer, and we haven’t even begun to tap into his talent!” he raged. “I thought that you were the smartest woman in this damn business,” he continued his rant. “Apparently I was wrong, because what you just did was inexcusable,” he fumed, pulling at his tie to loosen it.
Cerise crossed her arms, waiting. “You done?” she asked in a bored tone.
“What the hell has gotten into you?” Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Does this have something to do with Constance? Are you trying to punish me or something? Because if that’s the case, you just screwed up. I don’t play games that hurt my business,” he snarled.
Cerise strode to the desk, planting her palms on it and leaning in nose-to-nose. “Now you just listen for a moment, Blake Hamilton,” she ordered, her voice low. “I grew up in this business. My mama lived and breathed this business, all the while being screwed out of her fair share by your father. I AM the best, I DO know what I’m doing, and you’d better just mark my words that in less than two weeks, James Sugar Matteson is going to walk through those doors, hat in hand, willing to accept a contract for less money than he made on his previous one,” she rapped her knuckles on the desk and stood up, crossing her arms.
“Oh really?” Blake challenged derisively. “Don’t be so fucking naïve, Cerise. One of the other Big 5 producers is going to snatch him up in a heartbeat. He’s a goddamn goldmine!” he shoved the unsigned contract off of his desk in disgust. He looked up and was astonished to see Cerise Preston grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “What?” he barked, curious despite his anger.
“Maybe, just maybe, there are rumors going around that Sugar is bad news. Unreliable, unreasonable, peaking early…” she ticked off the points on her fingers with a secret smile.
“But that’s bullshit, he’s none of those things. He’s the best performer we’ve ever worked with,” Blake asserted, shaking his head at their loss.
Cerise raised an eyebrow.
“Well, obviously, except for your mother,” he amended hastily, still pissed. “But the fact remains, those rumors aren’t true.”
Her secret smiled broadened. “But the rest of the Big 5 companies don’t know that,” she played her ace.
“What did you…” Blake began, light beginning to dawn.
“I may have had a few friends make a few phone calls, say some things. Things that won’t make life easy for Sugar,” she mused slyly. A slow, admiring grin spread across Blake’s finely chiseled features like a sunrise.
“You’re positively diabolical,” he observed with wicked delight.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Cerise shot back, grinning and heading for the door.
“Let’s not get too cocky just yet,” he warned, sobering. She froze him with a backward glance and left the office.
Chapter 9
Blake Hamilton caught a brief glimpse of his superstar talent scout, Cerise Preston patting the arm of R&B’s newest shining star, Sugar Matteson, reassuringly as she showed him out of the office. When the elevator doors closed behind the contrite young star, Cerise turned with a satisfied smile and headed to Blake’s office. Knocking briefly on the halfway open door before entering, she strode to his desk and tossed down the signed contract for Sugar’s new album. Her CEO grinned up at her and sat back in his chair, reading the specifics of the agreement.
“Wow,” he raised his eyebrows, impressed. “He settled for less than on his last album, just like you predicted.”
Cerise didn’t utter the words, “I told you so,” but the look on her face spoke volumes as her glossy lips blossomed into a catlike smile. “Just to be clear, Mr. Hamilton, we are in no way doing to Sugar what your father did to my mother, nor will we EVER engage in those sorts of practices. We’re still beating the rest of the Big 5 with what we are paying out, and it’s coming back to us in a major way. In this business, you get what you pay for, and we’re getting nothing but the best,” she asserted, mildly triumphant.
Something flickered in Blake’s eyes. Something that seemed to be respect, with a touch of something else. “Let me take you to dinner to celebrate,” he offered. “You’ve worked harder than any scout I’ve ever met, you deserve some appreciation.” Cerise weighed her answer carefully. If she accepted Blake’s invitation, she didn’t want him to think that he had free access to anything beyond her skills as an agent. Truthfully, the prospect of spending a pleasant, but uninvolved, evening in his company and not having to cook sounded extremely appealing. She knew herself well enough to know that she could keep him at bay if he chose to try to seduce her, so why not?
“Okay,” she agreed, still somewhat hesitant. “But it had better be expensive,” she grinned.
“Naturally,” Blake nodded, amused. “Shall I have my car pick you up around 7?”
“I’m not going home,” Cerise responded, mentally tallying her unfinished task list. “I’ll just take a cab from here, where are we going?”
“Somewhere expensive,” he teased. “I’ll be here at 7, get whatever magic you’re working on wrapped up by then and we’ll head out,” he directed. “If you’re not done by the time I get here, I’m going to confiscate your laptop and carry you out bodily. All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl, you know,” Blake gave her a good-natured, but pointed look.
“And all work makes Jack and Jill a shitload of money,” she sassed back with mock-attitude, opening the door to go.
“I like your style, Preston…I like your style,” Blake Hamilton mused, admiring the retreating figure of his finest employee. Cerise merely smiled to herself without replying and quietly closed the door behind her with a jaunty backward wave.
Chapter 10
The intercom on Cerise’s desk phone buzzed relentlessly until she jabbed a finger at the button in annoyance. “What?” she demanded, having been so immersed in new contracts that she had lost track of
time.
“Temper, temper,” Blake Hamilton drawled lazily. “I’m in the lobby. Get your sweet ass down here now, or I’ll make good on my threat to carry you out bodily,” he warned good-naturedly, almost hoping she’d make him do it. The thought of throwing her over his shoulder and making her comply titillated him to no end. He heard a prolonged sigh on the other end of the intercom.
“I had no idea it was so late,” Cerise murmured, rubbing a weary hand across her furrowed brow.
“That’s because you work too damn hard,” he observed mildly. “Now get down here, I’m hungry!” This drew a giggle from Cerise, despite herself.
“Fine!” she agreed with mock-frustration. “Keep your pants on, I’ll be right down,” she muttered, still smiling and shaking her head.
Cerise slid into the back of the limo relieved that at long last, her work day was over. Her head was still abuzz with thoughts, plans and details, but she resolved to try to relax and enjoy her expensive dinner before going home and climbing into bed.
Her eyes widened with delight when the limo pulled up in front of one of the hottest new restaurants in the nation, “Soul Fusion.” The cuisine was a contemporary blend of down-home Southern cooking coupled with influences from the Caribbean and Europe. The fully organic menu was reputed to be out-of-this-world and a favorite of the President and First Lady.
She glanced at Blake in wonder. “Are you kidding me?” she demanded, impressed more than she wanted to let on. “I’ve known people who were put on a waiting list for months trying to get a reservation here!”
He grinned smugly. “I know people,” was his enigmatic reply.
He ushered her through the front doors into an interior that was part New Orleans bordello and part Louis XV, but entirely over-the-top luxury. The scent that teased and tantalized Cerise reminded her of her grandmother’s kitchen and her favorite Bahamian restaurant in equal measure. Her mouth watered in anticipation of the culinary delights that undoubtedly awaited her, and she absently realized that she had forgotten to eat lunch. The stunning duo made quite an appearance in the stately dining room, drawing many admiring (and in some cases, envious) glances before they were seated at an ornately carved private corner table which featured a pineapple motif carved into the stunning wood and fleur-de-lis silk on the upholstery.
They settled in with a carafe of exquisite wine that stimulated the palate, and ordered a variety of dishes from the menu, determined to make the most of their visit. The wine lowered their inhibitions and soon they were chatting freely and giggling at the foolish foibles of the record business, while sharing tidbits of ridiculously luscious dishes.
“You should have seen Sugar when he came shuffling back into my office like a whipped puppy,” Cerise shook her head, laughing. “Miss Cerise didn’t look like such a stingy bitch anymore after every producer in town refused to meet with him,” she crowed, sipping her wine. Blake leaned in toward her. Somehow they had ended up on the same side of the table, feeding each other morsels of different foods.
“You’re amazing,” he observed, chin in hand, gazing at her with a dazed grin. “You know that, right?”
“Hell yeah, I know that! I set out to be nothing short of amazing, and here I am,” she teased, buoyed by good food and wine. She had kicked off her shoes at some point, and ran her toes playfully up Blake’s pant leg, not realizing the response that she was creating.
“My wife is a fucking bitch,” he said suddenly, slurring a bit.
“Yup,” Ceri agreed, taking another sip of wine and popping a mini-hushpuppy glazed with ginger and sea salt into her mouth.
“She never loved me, you know,” he mused, tipsy and introspective.
“What?” Cerise demanded, indignant. “That’s crazy! Why did you marry her if she didn’t love you?” she blinked curiously. “I mean, I know, she’s hot and all, but damn, there’s gotta be more to it than that. You’re a sexy, successful guy, you could’ve had any girl, why her, if she didn’t love you?”
“She lied,” he said simply, shrugging. “Her dad and my dad were friends and our families wanted it to happen and I believed her when she said she loved me, even though I suspected that it wasn’t true. The only thing she cares about is the money,” he explained, lost in a memory.
“Well, there’s your first fuckin’ clue,” Cerise drawled cynically. “You should’ve known that if your daddy approved, she was nothing but bad news.” Blake studied her for a long moment, his gaze lingering on the fullness of her lips, the incredible depths of her dark chocolate eyes.
“I didn’t know about him. I mean, I could kinda tell, because of the arrogant ass that he was at home, but I had no idea how many lives he’d ruined until I inherited the business and saw his books.” He took her hand, rubbing his forefinger gently across the back of it, giving her goosebumps without meaning to. “I’m not him,” he reminded her gently. He traced a fingertip down her cheek, under the curve of her jaw, trailing down her elegant neck to her collarbone, causing her breathing to accelerate.
“I know,” she whispered, raking her nails gently up his inner thigh.
“We should go,” he touched her bottom lip with his thumb. She responded by closing her lips gently around his thumb and delicately touching it with her tongue. She saw a stirring in the front of his trousers and was enthralled at the effect she was having on him. She nodded her agreement and they made their way to the limo, supporting each other so as not to stumble. Other diners exchanged knowing grins at the obviously enamored couple.
Cerise didn’t remember the ride to the luxury hotel where Blake maintained a suite for “business purposes.” They had entered the hotel through a private door and entered a private elevator that took them straight to the penthouse suite. Normally, she would’ve eyed the fine marble of the foyer and upscale furnishings in the living room with a true appreciation of style and taste, but at the moment, her attention was focused solely on the man who swept her up into his arms and carried her across the magnificent threshold while gazing adoringly into her eyes. She hadn’t seen this side of Blake before. He seemed somehow…vulnerable, which allowed her to relax her guard and revel in the sheer maleness of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers as he carried her toward the bedroom. Impatient with desire, she pushed his lips apart with her tongue, exploring his mouth. His eager tongue met hers in a dance that left them both breathless. Setting her on her feet, Blake held her gaze while removing first his tie, then his suit coat, and unbuttoning his immaculate white shirt one button at a time. Her gaze followed his fingers hungrily as they exposed more and more of his torso.
She longed for him. She wanted to feel the thick muscles of his chest and abdomen pressed against her, wanted to take him into the hot, wet, depths of her core and squeeze him until he cried out and begged for more. But she stood entranced, while he made himself ready for her. Unconsciously, she stepped out of her shoes and cast them aside, her eyes still locked on the perfection of his form as he revealed himself to her. His shirt slipped from his shoulders and he let it fall to the floor as his hands moved to his waist. He undid the buckle of his belt, slipping the strip of leather through the hasp, until the ends of it hung to his sides like an open gate. Running his hand along the length of his burgeoning erection, he slowly undid the clasps of his trousers and pulled down his zipper, causing his cock to spring forth toward her. She put her hand forward to touch him, and he gently brushed it away. Stepping back, he took his raging hard-on into his fist and pumped, a glistening tear of arousal appearing at the tip. She wanted him badly and he knew it, but two could play this game.
Stepping back from him, she reached behind her back and popped the button on her sexy but demure pencil skirt, dragging down the zipper with one hand, while toying at the top button of her blouse with the other. The skirt dropped to the floor easily, revealing the black silk triangle of her thong, which was already damp w
ith her arousal. Blake’s cock twitched in appreciation of the sight and he pumped a couple more times, slowly gliding his hand up and down his powerful shaft. Cerise unbuttoned her blouse, fixing her gaze on his erection, clueing him in to her desire. Her light gauzy blouse drifted lightly to the floor and she stood before him, breasts practically bursting from the confines of her matching black bra, nipples fully erect.
Still keeping up a slow steady rhythm on his cock, Blake reached for her breast with the other hand and she turned her body away, presenting him with a stunning view of her luscious bottom. She reached behind and unhooked her bra, flinging it away without a second thought, then moved her hands to her breasts, concealing them before turning to face him. His breath caught audibly and he gripped his erection harder at the sight of Cerise standing nearly nude before him, hands on her breasts. She squeezed the tender flesh, enjoying the sensation, but even more enjoying the effect that she was having on Blake. Slipping her hands slowly downward, she took her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, rolling them softly at first, then with more intensity. The sensation felt so good that she felt quite sure that if she moved her fingers harder and faster, she could probably bring herself to orgasm, but she was saving that. She didn’t want to come until she was fully wrapped around the glorious member that Blake was currently palming, his strokes becoming more vigorous with her teasing. Her pussy throbbed with anticipation and she hooked her forefingers into the sides of her thong, pulling them down and stepping out of them.
Blake looked as though he was headed for a climax, the veins on his neck beginning to stand out as he pumped his fist harder and faster. She couldn’t allow that. He wasn’t going to come until she said so, and it was going to be damn exciting bringing him to the brink and denying him his release. She sauntered over, swaying her hips in a manner that invited sex with every fiber of her being. Blake’s breathing was beginning to come in panting gasps, so she intervened by grabbing his wrist to stop him. His eyes flashed fevered fire at her boldness, and he crushed her to him, taking her mouth with a ravenous hunger that wouldn’t be denied. When he reached for his cock again, she pressed her body against his so that he couldn’t, literally feeling the pulse of his extreme arousal against her lower belly. God she wanted him so bad, but denying them both and drawing it out was making it even hotter.
