Chapter Twelve
Baron clasped her hand and pulled her through the crowd. “We have front row seats.”
She’d expected as much. They met one of the VIP ushers next to the front stage. “Baron and Patience.”
The young security guard stared at their entwined fingers and then smirked. “Right this way. We’ve been expectin’ ya.”
She turned to Baron and lifted her brows. “They’ve been expectin’ us.”
“That’s what I heard.” He held out his arm and waited for her to pass. “Spenser said we were four seats from the center.”
“If you know where we’re sitting, shouldn’t I follow you?” she asked saucily, traipsing ahead of him. She could almost feel his eyes on her hips, but she still turned to verify as much. “You naughty boy.”
He leaned over her shoulder when they were held up by the line. “You know what I love most about this night, sub?”
“What’s that?”
“I’m one-hundred-percent certain you can still feel my cum inside you. And that’s hot as hell.”
She gasped at the guttural tone in his voice, the way he looked at her with so much interest, so much longing, and so much love. “You’re making me nervous.”
“No I’m not. The sound of my voice makes you wet.”
Baron was right on two counts. His voice made her long for his touch. And she still felt his warm cum inside her, even though she’d attempted to freshen up prior to the show.
They soon found their seats and the lights went down a few minutes later. With only the moonlight above them, the couples behind them took advantage of opportunity and made out, not that Patience turned and stared, but it was pretty obvious given the throaty moans and guttural growls.
One of the initial reasons Mark and Spenser had invited her to join them for this particular festival had more to do with the activities surrounding the festival than the actual musical performances. Musicians reportedly ended up in a lot of controversial situations at this particular event. While smaller than Bonnaroo or Woodstock, the festival was still one of the wilder music venues.
“Are you comfortable over there?” Baron asked, giving her a heated look.
“You aren’t fucking me here,” she stated firmly. “Just putting that out there.”
“Careful, sub. If I decide to fuck you, I won’t care where I am.” He moistened his lips and shot her a wink. “Want to test that?”
“No, Sir.” There was no reason to challenge him. When he had instructed her to remove her panties, it was a tell-all sign. He wanted access for a reason.
The man had illicit plans.
“Good evening, ladies and gentleman! Tonight is opening night at the one…the only…2014 Southern California Music Festival! Kicking us off tonight is Mark and Spenser McCoy and the McCoy Band!”
The crowd went wild. Teeny bops pushed their way to the stage. A few of them immediately flashed their breasts. Some of them thrust their arms up in the air waving around phone numbers. Baron turned to her and winked.
She shot him a smile, grateful he was there. What if she’d been stuck there with one of the band’s security guards? How uncomfortable would it have been to watch other women—those who were much younger than her twenty-eight years—showing their perky tits to her men?
“You okay?” Baron asked, seemingly enjoying her slight discomfort.
“Guess you’re wishing you were up there on stage now, huh?”
“I’m happy right here with you.” He crawled his fingers up her skirt. Her first inclination was to smack his hand away, if only in a playful manner. Instead, she parted her knees and watched as Mark and Spenser kicked up the adrenaline and started the show with an energetic number.
The thrumming racket of the bass and the beating drums resonated in her ears as they sang about whiskey and wild women. Thrown back into yesteryear, she couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d watched Spenser perform. The Bowery in Myrtle Beach had been his home for a few weeks as he’d entertained blue-haired ladies and their younger daughters and granddaughters.
She smiled at the memory of spending her winter in Myrtle Beach. She had been on the rebound and hadn’t been looking for love.
Thanks to Kimberly and Ansley, her best friends with a knack for meddling, she’d met the McCoy brothers and spent the holidays ransacking the sheets by day and having sex on the beach next to a campfire at night. Those were good days, fine times, but nothing like this.
She gripped Baron’s bicep and he winked and flexed, undoubtedly flaunting his muscles. She had yet to meet a guy who didn’t work his flex when a woman held his arm. Baron was no exception there, but yet he was certainly exceptional in all other areas. He was extraordinary in bed, easy on the eyes, and she’d never doubted his love for her.
He’d shown her how much he cared long before he’d claimed her as his own. He was one of a kind and she knew—without question or concern—he would remain in her life forever. More importantly, he’d put her first and after being second to Mark’s and Spenser’s careers, she was ready for the lead position.
As the last note of their opening number was played, Drew set a bumping beat. Spenser turned up a bottle of water and then took to the microphone, strutting his stuff up the center ramp and letting the little gals go buck wild with their cheers.
In the middle of it all, he searched the crowd, tenting his hand over his brows and pretending to search out someone in particular. “Ladies and gentleman, Mark and I don’t talk about our private lives often but thanks to a notorious and quite obnoxious tabloid reporter, we’re gonna beat Mr. Peter Peterson to the punch tonight by confirming some forthcoming rumors. What do you think about that?”
The crowd went berserk.
“What are they doing?” Patience’s heart raced. “Baron, look at me.”
“I’m not sure,” he replied, placing his hand on her knee.
“Now we all know how the cheesy tabloids can make things look. Right?” He directed the microphone at his audience and they all agreed with a resonating, “Right.”
“So after Mr. Peterson was a peeping Tom in my bus earlier today, I thought Mark and I would just set the record straight.”
Drew beat the hell out of the drums then and Mark broke out with a lead line of, “You ain’t nothing but a liar in a thousand dollar suit, a liar wearing snakeskin boots. You got that attitude of controversy, that pompous-ass attitude, and…”
She zoned in and out as Mark and Spenser worked the crowd and sang a song she’d never heard before. As talented lyricists, she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d written the music prior to this particular set. It was clearly written with tabloid reporters in mind.
At the end of the song, Drew hit the cymbals and Spenser swung his arm to the left and pointed at them. “Ladies and gentleman, Patience McKay!” The spotlight found them. “Patience, Baron, come on up here.”
“I knew it,” Patience grated out, wanting to slump back into the shadows.
“Come on, beautiful,” Baron said, leading her through the crowd and straight to the stage.
“Wait a second,” Spenser said, looking Baron up and down as if he didn’t know him. “Now who are you?”
“I’m your woman’s other boyfriend,” he replied, leaning into the microphone.
Mark shrugged, playing his role in this theatrical moment. “He said he’s her ‘other’ boyfriend, Spens.”
“Yeah, I heard him,” Spenser said, lifting his brow and studying Baron.
The crowd hushed. Apparently they didn’t know if it was part of the act or the real deal.
Spenser shoved his microphone under Patience’s chin. “Is this true, beautiful? Is Baron—my best friend from way back when—your other boyfriend?”
Patience gulped. She didn’t know why Spenser and Mark had decided to reveal their truths then but apparently they had a reason. She hesitated for a moment longer than she might have liked, but eventually she leaned forward and said, “Yes, it’s tr
ue.”
Drew tapped out a silly little beat on the drums and then hit the cymbals again. “Sounds like we’re about to have an interesting night, gang!”
Spenser turned to Drew then and pointed. “Now you just sit back there on the drums and be quiet. We’re trying to figure this all out up here before that lying cheating son-of-a-gun Peterson tells his tales in the tabloids tomorrow morning.” He turned back to the crowd and held up what Patience assumed was a proof copy hot off the press.
Baron glared at their images. Patience gasped. Mark quickly shook his head and Spenser said, “This is what you folks will see tomorrow morning. The headlines read some nonsense about ‘Three men banging a groupie in an effort to make the Southern California Music Festival into Woodstock all over again’.
“The bullshit in that garbage is this…” He wrapped his arm around Patience’s waist and rested his hand on her hip. “This gal here isn’t what fans often refer to as a groupie. This girl is the love of my life.”
“And mine,” Mark quickly said, adjusting his headset.
Patience was so proud of her men but she hadn’t expected them to defend her like this. Sure, they’d all known what they potentially faced when those cameras had started snapping but Mark and Spenser didn’t have to make a big deal out of it. They didn’t have to get in front of this thing in order to protect her.
“The reason I grabbed the handheld microphone, honey, is because I thought you might want to add something.”
“You mean like I love you?” Patience asked, beaming at Mark and Spenser.
“That works!” Spenser said, pulling her into a saucy kiss. “I love you, too, lady. And nobody, not Peterson or Max or any of their followers can take away what we have.”
“That’s right,” she whispered, cupping the side of his face and kissing him once more.
“Hey now!” Mark pulled her over to him and quickly made a show out of smooching, too.
As if those in the crowd couldn’t believe their eyes, it was a hushed audience, but when Baron took Patience by the hand and started to lead her off stage, the cheers began all over again. They chanted their requests for another kiss, cheering for Baron. Their support was more than enough to provoke a man to make a public claim on a woman.
“Buddy, it’s all you now, Baron.” Spenser tapped the tabloid. “Besides, there’s a real good shot of the two of you in the centerfold.” He waggled his brows and then copped that strut and headed to the far end of the stage. “Go on now, Baron! Get ‘cha some.”
The crowd went wild at the mention of their latest hit single “Get ‘Cha Some” and how Spenser had used it to put Baron and Patience on the spot.
Baron grabbed the mic from Spenser. “You know I’ve never been one for the stage but these boys here have obviously made it their mission to put me on the spot tonight, so I’ll go ahead and accept that challenge.”
The crowd cheered. He waited until the noise level died down. Then, he turned to Patience and said, “I love you. You know it.” He tilted his head at Mark and Spenser. “They know it.” Then he swept his hand straight in front of the crowd and added, “And now everyone knows it.”
The audience went crazy all over again. Patience grabbed hold of Baron’s collar and laid one on him, kissing him with fervor as the band broke out into their next tune—“Get ‘Cha Some.”
Patience had every intention of doing just that.
Chapter Thirteen
Smack! Patience slapped the ever-loving shit out of Mark. Smack! She did the same to Spenser.
She turned to Baron to dish another slap but he caught her arm in midair. “Not in this life.”
“What the hell was that for?” Mark cupped his face.
Spenser looked angry as hell. “Rather than act like a spoiled brat, do you think you might ask why we made the announcement here?” He grabbed a beer from the fridge.
“I don’t care why, Spenser! You pulled me up there on that stage and made a spectacle out of me. All the way back to the bus, men were ogling me and making crude remarks.” The comments had ruined the moment. “I was okay with your little sideshow until the haters gathered to throw stones.”
Spenser pointed at Baron. “Not to throw you under the bus but dear God, did you forget where you are? You can’t dress her like that and expect her to make it from point A to point B without being groped or at least grabbed.”
“No man would dare if he values his life.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Spenser drawled, drinking his beer and sulking.
Let him sulk. Patience had been embarrassed in front of tens of thousands of people. Sure, she’d been caught up in the moment for a bit, but when the lights went down and the commentary began, she’d dropped her head and tried to hurry back to the bus before the women around there started hurling bricks.
“You could’ve warned me.”
“Patience, I’m sure they had their reasons,” Baron said, turning his attention to Spenser. “And I’d like to hear them.”
Mark frowned. He took a few deep breaths and then said, “We had to get in front of it. Tonight, Peterson’s story will run. Tomorrow, we’ll be splashed all over the front page with a few provocative pictures. What they can’t find on the newsstand, they’ll be able to click and find online.”
“A little warning would’ve been nice,” Patience said, crossing her arm and tapping her foot.
Baron stared down at her boot. He then slowly lifted his gaze. “Want a spanking? I won’t tolerate tantrums.”
“Who are you and what have you done with the man I once thought of as my friend?”
His lips twitched. “I’m still right here, sub, but I don’t put up with the fits that these two apparently tolerate.”
“Thanks,” Mark said.
“Told ya,” Spenser grumbled.
“You told him what, exactly?” Baron’s brooding look was sexy as hell but at the moment, Patience was one step shy of bolting.
“I told him it would be this way. Your inner Dom always takes over and you can’t help yourself. You hover.”
Baron laughed. “How do I hover?”
“You just do.” He turned his attention to Patience. “He picked out that short skirt and breast-hugging top. Did he not?”
“Yes,” Patience replied. “But don’t change the subject. This isn’t about how I’m dressed. It’s about you calling me up to the stage and letting your fans know that you and Mark share a woman with your best friend!”
“I thought they took it pretty well,” Mark said.
“But of course you would think so. Has there ever been a time when you’ve disagreed with Spenser?” Patience was sick and tired of being the girl on the back burner. She was always the last to know. “You could’ve called. We could’ve stayed in tonight.”
“That’s not what this was about!” Spenser leapt to his feet. “Don’t you get it? We couldn’t stop the tabloids from running with the pictures. The only choice we had was to tell our story so our side is out there, too. We don’t want others to make you feel used.”
“Oh please. Have you forgotten how I grew up?” She rolled her eyes.
“They were trying to protect you. A little gratitude might go a long way.”
Patience swallowed. Baron was right. They had tried to look after her. She understood that much now. Still, it didn’t change the fact that strangers now had a glimpse inside her private life.
Mark said, “Tonight, our relationship is trending on most of the social media sites. They aren’t talking about some trashy sex scene. They’re talking about an incredible love story, a lucky woman who is cherished by three men. They’re calling us the ‘most romantic’ people in entertainment. Our love for you is a hot topic on all the local networks, too. Some of the entertainers here at the festival are asking their fans to boycott the tabloid. They’re reminding them that they can read the article in six weeks when it’s available online for free while encouraging them to avoid the article at all costs, stating most of it may be
a pack of lies.”
“Well I’m glad your peers came out in support of you.”
“Don’t you see? They came out in support of you, honey.” Spenser’s voice had softened but there was guttural evidence of that rising beast, the one which wasn’t easily put to rest once it reared its insatiable head. “There are a few others here that have somewhat different relationships and they don’t take kindly to someone like Peter Peterson making a mockery out of love, regardless of how it’s embraced.”
“It would’ve been nice to have a head’s up,” she said.
“We literally found out about it maybe five minutes before the show.” Spenser drained his beer and tossed the can in the wastebasket. “We were still reading the article when the band was introduced.”
Patience felt the anger slowly slipping away. She hadn’t meant to embarrass Mark and Spenser. She didn’t want a spotlight on their relationship. A new discovery such as a threesome or foursome would potentially leave the McCoys with a tainted brand.
Additionally, she hadn’t meant to drag Baron into the middle of a public relationship. Their love was so new. Their relationship didn’t belong under a microscope.
“Uh-oh,” Mark drawled, holding up his cell phone. “It’s your dad.”
“Surely to God, he hasn’t already heard news of this,” Spenser said.
Baron’s phone lit up with several texts at one time. “Wanna bet?”
* * * *
“I’ve heard of some goddamn stupid things in my time but this one takes the cake.” Joshua was pissed, but he was the least of Mark’s and Spenser’s worries. Patrick was mad enough to fly to California and stay at Patience’s side for the duration of the festival. Then, he’d probably send her out of the country. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Joshua, calm down,” Mark said in an even voice. “We didn’t have a choice. One of the tabloids is running a story. It will debut tomorrow. We were trying to get in front of it so we could protect Patience.”
Sex Fest [Cowboy Sex 8] (Siren Publishing LoveEdge) Page 13
