by Bargo, Holly
Jay leveled his gimlet glare at the media hound and said in an icy tone, “Mick’s wife is a nice young woman whose only value to the media is that she married a rock star. You will leave her alone.”
The journalist shrugged and let the matter drop, but Jay wasn’t fooled. He’d dealt with the paparazzi for a long time. The hint of a story was like a drop of blood in the water to a shiver of sharks. It was only a matter of time before they attacked.
“Let me speak to Sonia,” Jay requested during one of his meetings with the band, that one taking place in the Hendriksens’ living room.
“Why?” Mick asked suspiciously, wanting to protect his wife from the more unsavory aspects of fame.
Jay cast him a hard glance and said, “I’m trying to protect her, too, Mick.”
Mick’s shoulders drooped a little and he relented. “Okay.” He rose from the chair to fetch Sonia, rather than just shout her name to summon her. The other band members stared after him, their expressions filled with amazement and disbelief.
He found her in the spare bedroom curled up in a chair with a novel. She looked up from the book and smiled to welcome his presence.
“Hey, babe,” he greeted her and bent over to brush his lips over hers. “Jay wants to talk to you. Will you come?”
She blinked, but acquiesced. “Sure. What’s this about?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s probably going to get ugly.”
She set the book aside and took his hand. He drew her to her feet and escorted her to the living room where he sat back down in the vacated chair and pulled her onto his lap. His arms settled loosely around her, but she was not deceived. He’d tighten his hold and hold her there until he consented to release her … and there would be little she could do about it. Mick had demonstrated his superior strength on multiple occasions, usually to her immense pleasure.
“Hello, Jay,” she greeted the agent. “Mick says you want to speak with me.”
“Hello, Sonia,” the agent said with a cordial nod. Without further preamble, he asked, “When do you start your new job?”
“Monday.”
“Do they know who you are?”
“My boss, Chef Joseph Kilrook, does,” she answered candidly. “But I don’t think it matters to him, as he’s famous in his own right.”
“What about your coworkers?”
“I haven’t really met them.”
“Do you think Kilrook will be capitalizing on having the wife of a rock star in his kitchen to boost his restaurant business?”
She cocked her head to the side and answered coolly, “No. As I said, he’s a celebrity. He doesn’t need any boost from my association with Mick.”
Jay nodded, making notes the old fashioned way—with pen and paper. “All right,” he conceded. “I’ll get in touch with Kilrook and put in a request to keep your relationship with Mick quiet. That should help deter the paparazzi from dogging your every step.”
She pursed her lips, mulling that over, and nodded. “It probably would be best if you approached him as Mick’s agent, not as someone acting on my behalf.”
Jay nodded. Mick relaxed, satisfied that that the band’s agent was looking out for his wife, too. He released her with a peck on the cheek. She returned to the other room and her book. Jay turned his attention to Jack and said, “There’s a new record label expressing interest in signing on Iron Falcon.”
“What are they offering?” Jack asked.
“Nothing yet,” Jay answered. “But I wanted you to know that another label is interested.”
“Which one?” Davis inquired.
“Warner.”
A low whistle escaped Angelo, who said, “That’s running with the big dogs. Those guys don’t mess around.”
“You’d likely lose some creative control,” Jay warned. “But they’ve got major funds to make sure you get the big venues for concerts and the impressive light shows and special effects.”
Davis shrugged his massive shoulders and said in his quiet, thoughtful way, “I don’t think we need lots of fancy special effects. They detract from the music.”
Angelo nodded and said, “I agree. All that flash and dazzle is distracting. People come to hear us play, not to see fireworks.”
“I’m more worried about losing creative control,” Mick opined. “It wouldn’t be right to have some suit tell us what we can and cannot play.”
Jack listened and said to Jay, “Tell them thanks, but no thanks.”
Jay pursed his lips and said, “Warner will catapult you to the big leagues, guys. You’ll be performing on a par with legends like the Eagles and the Rolling Stones.”
“We’ll get there,” Mick said with subdued confidence. “It will just take a little longer doing it our way.”
Jay threw out his last lure and named the figure the record label offered, not mentioning the hefty boost he’d get in commissions. Kristof’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. Jack whistled. Angelo’s jaw dropped. Mick and Davis shrugged.
“That’s a hell of a lot of money,” Angelo said in hoarse awe.
“They’ll turn us into Hanson,” Mick warned.
Angelo cringed. Creative control was important. Jay excused himself to let the band members discuss the offer privately. After a few minutes, they came to a consensus that it would probably be best to see the contract and have an attorney review it. They said as much to Jay, who nodded, grateful they were not automatically rejecting the opportunity. Oh, they probably would, but at least it wouldn’t be without being fully informed.
As he left he kissed those elusive millions good-bye and admitted to himself that he respected the group for their commitment to their music. Those latest songs were really amazing. Great stuff.
The band members desultorily discussed other matters concerning their upcoming tour. Jay had left them each with a copy of the grueling itinerary that would cross four continents and several Pacific Rim islands. They’d average eight cities a month—two cities a week.
They had a precious few days interspersed with the myriad performance locations in which to sightsee or rest. Mick checked those “R&R” days against the calendar to calculate when Sonia could fly out to visit him. Few opportunities presented themselves. The week in Seoul and the week in Naples offered the most likely opportunities for conjugal visits. The thought of going so long without sex made him feel twitchy.
“What’s wrong?” Davis asked perceptively.
“That’s a long time to spend away from Sonia,” Mick replied somberly, glancing from the itinerary to his friend.
“You’ll be tested,” Davis agreed.
“You’re actually going to abstain?” Jack asked with disbelief and astonishment. “Do you really think Sonia would expect that of you?”
“I know she does,” Mick replied, his tone both quiet and serious. “And I expect it of myself. I won’t break faith with her.”
Jack just gaped.
“How would you feel if she had an affair while you were gone?” Kris asked, eyes glinting speculatively.
“She wouldn’t,” Mick answered firmly.
“You don’t know that,” Kris pointed out reasonably. “You’re the one who introduced her to sex and she’s never been tested before. Maybe she’s not as strong as you think.”
“If anything, she’s stronger,” Mick insisted. “She’ll be faithful and expect me to show that same strength.”
“Man, I hope you’re right.”
“I hope he can keep his dick in his pants,” Angelo muttered. “Although, if he were discreet, I doubt she’d ever find out.”
“But I would know and that’s bad enough.”
“You all are depressing the hell out of me,” Jack said. He focused his attention on Mick. “Hey, man, we’ll help you, won’t we, guys? Sonia’s too good to let get away because we didn’t stop him from being a philandering jackass.”
“Oooh, ‘philandering,’” Angelo teased. “Jack’s using big words.”
Jack reached ou
t to cuff his buddy. “Shut up, you debauched Lilliputian.”
Angelo laughed, breaking the tense mood.
Sonia rejoined them and asked, “Guys, do you have time for supper?”
“If you’re cooking, absolutely,” Angelo replied with happy enthusiasm.
She looked at Mick, who nodded. With a smile, she promised them food in an hour. A moment later, they heard the clash of pots and utensils. Twenty minutes later, delicious aromas of chicken piccata filled the air. And just over thirty minutes past that, the five of them rushed to the table as soon as they heard that siren song, “Supper’s ready!”
Upon putting the melt-in-your-mouth food on their tongues, the men groaned sincere appreciation. Jack and Angelo both pleaded with her to marry them.
“Get your own women,” Mick said and stuffed another forkful of food into his mouth.
When every last crumb had been consumed and three of the band members still looked hungry—although how they could be, she had no idea—Sonia mentioned the leftover key lime cheesecake from the day before. Chair legs scraped the floor as Davis, Kris, and Jack leaped to their feet to fetch dessert plates and the leftover cheesecake.
“I’ll put coffee on,” Sonia said and braced her hands on the table to rise.
“Don’t bother, I’ll get it,” Kris offered.
Angelo protested, “Don’t touch that coffee pot, Kris. You only know how to brew sludge.” He winked at Sonia. “I’ll make coffee.”
Kris shrugged and returned to his seat while Angelo measured out the coffee.
Davis moaned around a mouthful of cheesecake and asked, “Is there anything you can’t make taste good?”
“Lutefisk,” she answered without missing a beat. “Nothing and nobody can make lutefisk taste good.”
“What is lutefisk?”
Kris laughed and replied, “You don’t want to know.”
Sonia just grinned and said, “Think of old fish. Now think of soap. Put the two together and, voila, you have lutefisk.”
Jack’s face twisted. “That’s disgusting.”
“Yep. Which is why I don’t make it.”
The conversation devolved into a “worst things ever eaten” rivalry, with no one quite being able to top lutefisk, although Davis’ description of chitlins and scrapple tied for a close second.
“Remind me never to eat soul food,” Jack muttered.
Kris glanced down at the bulky watch on his wrist and rose from the table. “Time to go, guys. We’ve got two shows tomorrow.”
The others rose, clearing dishes and quickly working together to tidy the kitchen. As they left, each thanked her politely for supper and kissed her cheek. Kris’ aim was a little off and he kissed the corner of her mouth.
But then, maybe his aim wasn’t off.
Mick’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on his friend. He drew Sonia into his arms and held her snugly against his body. Dipping his head to her neck, he smelled the faint, lingering scent of the other men from where they had embraced her. He wanted to growl and rip the clothes from her body and slather his scent all over her. That blatant and fierce possessiveness startled him. He nibbled at her neck, reveling in the soft, smooth skin. Sonia sighed and tilted her head to afford him better access. Her hands skimmed up and down his back, then down to cup his ass.
“You’ve got the sexiest butt I’ve ever seen on a man,” she murmured throatily as she kneaded that part of his anatomy.
Mick’s erection pressed painfully against the zipper of his pants.
“Bedroom. Now,” he ordered between kisses.
A moment later they had tumbled naked onto the bed and Mick was sheathed inside her flesh. He bent over her to kiss her, taste her, as he pumped his hips. Sonia managed to lever herself onto her elbows so she could watch the slide of his long, thick penis in and out of her body. It was shiny with her cream. She raised her eyes to his and he said, “Watching the two of us fuck is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”
A flush spread across her chest and neck and her breathing quickened as he maintained a steady rhythm the inexorably drove her to heights of unthinking pleasure. He balanced on one straining arm as he reached down with the other so his fingers could tantalize her clit. Sonia’s breath hitched on a keening moan.
“What do you want, babe?” he asked, his voice raspy and thick and barely heard above the slap of his hips against hers.
“Harder,” she gasped. “Deeper.”
Triumph and joy glinted in Mick’s eyes as he obeyed. Staying sheathed inside her, he folded his legs beneath him. In that kneeling position, he cupped his hands under her bottom to raise her hips and tilt them for deeper penetration. He watched her breasts jiggle as he slammed into her. Sonia’s mouth opened, but no words came out as her climax built. Perspiration bloomed on their skin and beaded as he ground against her, swirling his hips to give her more than just the back-and-forth friction.
Sonia squealed. She couldn’t help it. The feeling of Mick moving within her body was incredible. Awesome. Amazing. Her melting brain cells couldn’t conjure additional superlatives to describe their lovemaking. She moaned yet again when Mick bent down to lick and suck on her breasts, his hips never losing their rhythm or lessening the depth of their stroke. She had no idea how he could do that, but she decided—later when she could think—that she was grateful for it.
“Cum for me,” he growled as he supported her buttocks with one big, warm hand and used the other to gently pinch her clit.
With a wail, she obeyed, her body bucking helplessly as he continued to drill his cock into her. Unlock every other time, he did not withdraw and let her wind down from the orgasm, but kept on pumping through the pulsing tissues, extending the pleasure with continued stimulation.
Sonia panted and quivered as Mick finally withdrew from her body, only to flip her over with easy strength. He raised her hips and pushed her legs beneath her so that her head and chest lay on the bed and her butt was elevated. Mick wrapped his hand around his cock and aimed it at her weeping pussy. He groaned as he sank deeply into her body. He rested for a few seconds, simply enjoying the snug feel of her body surrounding him. Then he once again picked up his rhythm and the wet sounds of vigorous sex again filled the air.
Mick stroked her inside and out for the next couple of hours, bringing her to climax several more times. His first orgasm erupted with her second, but a quick recovery lasted much, much longer. When they finally fell asleep, arms and legs entwined, Sonia’s skin smelled of his sweat and musk. Something about his scent being strongly mixed with the natural fragrance of her own heated skin settled the restless, possessive beast inside him because he’d marked her as his, his, damn it.
That territorial beast woke him a few hours later, spurring his hands to molding her pliant flesh, making her slumbering body squirm invitingly against him. He rubbed her nipples to hard points. Her thighs fell open at his touch. He moved over her and settled between her open thighs. Eyes still closed, she breathed a long sigh as he inserted his erection inside the wet welcome of her body. He thrust in long, slow, almost languid movements until a soft orgasm rippled through her. He strained against her, grunting harshly as his release filled her in hot, sticky spurts.
He sighed as he withdrew and cuddled beside her, spreading a hand possessively over her lower belly. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep once more.
Sonia stretched and winced at the aches of vigorously used flesh. She blinked, one hand straying downward, drifting over Mick’s cupping her mound. At the barely-there touch of her fingers against the back of his hand, his fingers flexed, delving into semen-sticky folds. As though acting with their own will, his fingers stroked her, quickly inciting a new release of honey from her body. Spooning her from behind, Mick’s hips rolled forward, morning wood sliding against her bottom. His hand cupped her thigh, lifted it, opened her to his questing erection which sought its target like a heat seeking missile.
She groaned
as he thrust into her body with short, hard strokes that worked the light layers of sheet and blanket and bedspread down their legs. Mick’s teeth clamped down where should and neck joined, adding yet another layer of heady pleasure. He drove them both to orgasm, held her shuddering body against his as he emptied himself in shallow, frantic thrusts accompanied by her soft cries and his low grunts. Then they lay, panting and sweating, as the air conditioning cooled their overheated bodies.
“Good morning,” Mick said as he placed light kisses along her neck.
“Mmm,” Sonia hummed in response, not sure she was even capable of forming actual words at that point. She continued to lay there, luxuriating in the post coital glow and the loving touch of her husband’s hands and mouth against her quivering skin.
“This is your last free weekend,” he murmured against her skin.
“Yes,” she acknowledged.
“What do you want to do today?”
“You have two shows today,” she reminded him, glancing at the bedside alarm clock. “And we’ve slept in later than usual.”
“As I recall, we haven’t done a whole lot of sleeping,” he quipped as he rolled her over and moved on top of her. He settled between her legs, which parted without resistance for him. The fat head of his erection nudged her pussy.
“You’re insatiable, Mick,” she said breathily as he dipped his head to suckle on her left breast. Her back arched, pushing her breasts at him.
“So responsive,” he murmured as he slowly pushed inside her.
She sighed as he glided deeply into her body, pausing to pulse within her when he was fully sheathed. Her over-sensitized flesh rippled around him. The urge to move and race to climax overwhelmed her. She tried to buck against him, but his hips anchored hers in place.
“God, Mick, do something!”
He switched his mouth to the right breast. She gurgled and again attempted to move beneath him.
“Mick!” She smacked the back of his shoulder.
He smiled wickedly against her breast and began to rock his hips. Sonia’s breath hitched, then escaped as a high pitched moan. She clutched at him as he inexorably drove her to ecstasy. He reveled in the pulsing of her body around him, beneath him, responding to the slightest touch of his hands, lips, and tongue. A long, low moan accompanied her boneless collapse. He grinned triumphantly at her as he continued to take his pleasure in her body. He rolled her over and lifted her hips. With unerring aim, he inserted himself back inside her body and felt that familiar tingle of energy at the base of his spine. He pumped, the strokes getting harder, faster, more erratic as his control disintegrated. Finally, her body shuddered one last time beneath him from the orgasm he had practically forced upon her. The weak, rippling grip of her exhausted flesh was sufficient to catapult him into his own release.
