She turned back to the band manager, with her breath coming in shallow gasps. So that’s Colt, she seethed. She was so angry that she wanted to do something, but she retreated into her shell and dropped her bottom back on the sofa. Hunching her shoulders, she allowed the anger to evaporate.
“We’ll take care of your wardrobe in time, okay, so relax and don’t worry about a thing,” Reid reassured.
He was staring at her. His eyes softened somewhat. She did not hold his gaze; she could never hold anyone’s stare, though she had wanted to stare Colt down. Take him down a notch.
“So what do you say, Chelsea. Are we set?”
“Yes,” she said in almost a whisper, nodding her assent.
“Good, come back in the morning.” He looked at his watch. “Come with your luggage. We’ll get to work at eight. The boys have a rehearsal in the afternoon, press meet the morning after and a concert the following day. So we need you to get settled fast.” As she stood, he added, “There’s always some event to attend in between. Last minute invites, so be prepared for those as well.”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Here.” He handed her a room key, one of the swipe cards. “Your room is not a suite, but it’s nice.”
“Thank you,” she had worked hard to steady her voice. He stood and led her to the door. “Bye,” she said as he opened it. He nodded and allowed her to pass.
As the door closed, she leaned against the wall of the passageway and slumped her shoulders. She took several long breaths and closed her eyes. She was relieved that she got the job, but the idea of working with someone so rude made her fume.
“That—that—jerk.” She snatched the referral letter from the file and glowered at it.
It had his boot print on it, which smeared out her name and most of the words. It was illegible. Angrily, she crunched it into a ball, looking around for a bin. There was none in that area of the passage, so she moved to the elevator and headed back down.
When she reached the lobby, she dumped the balled up paper in the first bin she saw before heading out into the bright New York sunshine. It was past 2:00 p.m., and she had the rest of the day to herself. She knew that Reid told her to come at eight the following morning, but she wanted to make a good impression, so she went back to Molly’s to fetch her only travel case.
Molly was Chelsea’s best friend. Her only friend if she didn’t count Ned from back home in Virginia. While Chelsea was reserved and shy, Molly was the outgoing one. She had expressed her desire to leave their small hometown at the tender age of 11. That dream was fulfilled as soon as she turned 18. With both of them being the same age, Chelsea thought Molly was brave. She could never have just left like that, with no job or anything but the clothes on her back.
Molly moved to New York after saving up every allowance she got, boarding the train, never to return to Virginia. That was seven years ago. They kept in touch through letters and later by phone. When Chelsea told her she was coming to the Big Apple for a job, she was more than happy to accommodate her. The apartment was a small studio with barely any room to move, but they were so happy to see each other that the space didn’t matter.
Molly worked the night shift as a server in a bar. She told her it paid the bills, and she got good tips. She was even saving up to go to college. Chelsea was proud of her and still considered her a brave soul.
“Hey, you’re leaving as soon as you’ve arrived, it’s not fair!” Molly hugged her as she pulled her case to the door.
“We’ll see each other all the time; I’ll just be a bus ticket away … for the next two weeks at least.”
“You’ve got to get me into that concert. I’m such a huge fan of Mike!” Molly said. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you’re working with Purple Crush!”
The name made Chelsea stiffen. Colt Montgomery was Purple Crush. That was his stage name. He was the lead singer of his own band. Without him, there would be no band. The others were just there as instrumentalists and backup … Cory, Tony, Andrew and Mike. Colt had the voice, he wrote the songs, and he was the one gyrating on stage. The thought of him made her shudder.
“What’s wrong, are you alright?” Molly squinted her eyes and peered at her friend’s face.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, trying to contain her disdain for the man.
Two
Reid banged his fist on the desk in the corner of the living room in the hotel suite. For two weeks, they’d be in New York, and that would be their home. Chelsea had the room across the hall, and Reid was directly next door with a room that had an adjoining door. This was one of three suites on the floor. It was her first day on the job, and already there seemed to be trouble. From the moment he stepped on her letter, she knew Colt was the Devil. She was still ticked off that he hadn’t apologized.
As Reid’s fist hit the desk, she jumped. It was close to 3 p.m., and the rehearsal was supposed to start at 2:30. Colt was nowhere to be found, and Reid was ready to bust a vein. Chelsea could see the cord bulge in his forehead. His golden tan now had a slight orange hue from the flush of anger.
“I swear, some days I want to beat the crap out of him!” Reid’s voice was low and calm, with a deadly note. His steely eyes turned to her, making her cringe. “We have to find him.”
He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a small leather bound book that looked like a diary. He stretched it out to her. “Call all the numbers in it. Find him!”
“Y—yes, sir,” she replied, taking it.
Reid stomped out of the suite, leaving her on her own to make the calls. She stared at the pages. All the names and numbers seemed jumbled. She blinked to catch her focus and then scanned the first page. They were all women’s numbers. She moved over to Reid’s desk, where the telephone was and sat in his chair. There, she picked up the phone, starting to dial the first one on the page.
“Hello?” a husky voice came over the phone.
“He—hello,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
“Hello?” the woman repeated.
Chelsea cleared her throat, “Hello.”
“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“Is Colt there?” she asked and then grimaced. She should have introduced herself.
“Who the hell is this?”
“I’m Chelsea; I work with the band,” she said.
There was a brief silence, and then the woman replied, “No, I haven’t seen him in over a year.”
There was a click and the beeping signal. She called several other numbers, all women. They all had similar reactions, a sort of antagonistic tone. None of them seemed pleased to hear his name. A few hung up on her without answering her question. By the time Chelsea was done making the calls, she was sure none of them had seen Colt in a while. There was also the possibility that many of them were angry with him based on their attitude when asked about him.
* * * *
Colt’s back muscles rippled as his arm sliced the water’s surface. With each tread, he felt the tension leave him, making its way from his head down to his spine. The crystal cool waters of the hundred-foot swimming pool were exactly what he needed to get away from everything. He was making his third lap across the pool. Its coolness soothed his inner conflicts and offered a needed respite from his mental plagues.
They were in the Upper East Side at a mansion, which he had no clue to whom it belonged. He was there at the behest of his friend Tara, whom he’d known for a few of years and would hook up every time he was in NY. She was the only woman he’d been with who had no delusions about their sexual liaisons being more than just that. Her father was the president of a conglomerate, and she was set to marry in the business. He liked her, and she knew this was all fun and games.
The pool party had started earlier in the day. Off to the left was a bar with bartender. The music blared from large speakers off to the right with a live DJ. There were all kinds there, from chaebols to wannabe’s. Luckily, there weren’t many of his kind around. He hated partie
s with other musicians and actors, for that matter. He liked the idea of keeping it low profile before a show.
As he treaded the pool, he could feel Tara’s stare burn into his back. He smiled as he envisioned her running her pink tongue along her scarlet lips. She’d been waiting all day to be sated, and he needed the release, but she had to wait.
They had claimed one side of the pool along with her friend. He reached the edge, stopped at the wall and straightened. Deliberately, he leaned his head back and slowly ran his hand over his glistening medium brown hair. His biceps bulged with the move, and he closed his eyes, letting the water trickle down his face, his lips and his neck.
When he opened his eyes, Tara’s chocolate eyes were glued to him. She was running a hand along her neck and seemed to be breathing short. Her nipples were erect beneath the thin fabric of her scarlet bikini top. With her legs apart, he could see that her bikini crotch was wet. His body gave a small jolt at the thought of sliding into her, but he pushed it aside, waiting for the right moment.
A shadow crossed his path, and he looked up so see Tara’s friend. He could not remember her name, regardless of how hard he tried. He smiled up at her and swung himself onto the pavement. His wet shorts clung to him, revealing his muscled thighs and most of all, his full member. His golden tan gleamed as beads of moisture meandered down his defined pectorals and made their way between the muscles, which made up his washboard abs.
He saw the friend’s titanium eyes bulge as they followed the trail the water made, to rest at the waist of his shorts, just where his V-line disappeared beneath. Her eyes settled on his crotch, and she licked her lips hungrily.
He picked up his towel from one of the empty loungers, mopping up some of the water from his arm and chest. Tara’s friend was standing close to him, so close that he could feel her heat and smell her female scent.
He moved off, and as he did, collided with a guy carrying two glasses. The drinks spilled, the cold liquid splashing his chest. The guy muttered some expletives, looking at him cruelly.
“Watch where you’re going, dickhead!” the youth hissed. The young man’s voice was thick, indicating he’d had a few too many.
Colt glared at the contempt on the youth’s face and replied in an even tone, “You should watch where you’re going.”
“Dickhead, say you’re sorry now,” the guy retorted.
Colt walked off, heading to the bar. A few seconds before he reached the counter, someone grabbed his arm. As he turned, a fist landed on his cheek. He reeled back but caught himself on time. His eyes flicked to the assailant. It was the same guy, staring at him menacingly with icy blue eyes.
Colt doubled his fist and brought it to land on the guy’s nose bridge. Almost instantly, he felt warm liquid on his knuckles. The offending nose began to leak blood.
“You broke my nose you fucking jerk!” the guy bellowed, lunging at him.
He sidestepped, and the guy stumbled forward.
“Chad!” someone screamed.
There was a buzz as people started screaming and running in their direction.
“Hey!” someone else yelled. “No fighting.”
“He started it,” Chad said to the girl who had screamed his name and who was now at his side. He was pointing at Colt.
“No, he didn’t,” Tara came to stand beside him. “You did. Do you know who this is?’
“I don’t fucking care; he broke my nose.”
“Honey, let me see,” the girl said, trying to see the damage. “Let me get ice.”
“You started the fight so suck it up,” Tara’s friend piped in. “The Purple Crush just crushed you, you sonofabitch!”
“Oh, My God, Purple Crush!” Chad’s girl blurted out. The guy stared at her with a look that could slice her in two, which made her snap her mouth shut. But she hadn’t taken her eyes off Colt.
He shrugged, walked to the bar where he ordered a rum and coke. It was his umpteenth one, and he’d started to feel the effects of the rum. He thought that after the swim the feeling would wear off. But the little fight pumped his adrenaline, resulting in a buzz in his head that made him feel a bit woozy. Still, he had a long way to go before being drunk. He downed the drink in two gulps and ordered another.
Tara joined him at the bar. “Dick!” she muttered.
Her bare arm brushed his, and he felt his cock prick up. He looked down at her five feet seven inches and noticed her nipples were still erect from earlier. Her friend also joined them. When she moved close, her breast brushed against him, and he knew the time had come for them to get out of there.
He ordered another round of drinks and ended up having three more. The friend had moved in closer, and he found that his hand came up and draped around her shoulder. Tara had one hand on his butt while the other nursed her drink. He emptied his glass and pushed it towards the bartender. By this time, the buzz in his head had become a loud drone.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said to Tara, now feeling the effects of the alcohol.
“Yeah, anywhere but here,” she replied with a smile. “Come Brit.”
Oh yeah, Brittany! He thought. That’s her name.
When he checked the time, it was already 9:07 p.m. Reid should have flipped a switch by this and given up on him being at rehearsals. He didn’t see the reason for him being at every damn one. He wrote the lyrics and arranged every one of those songs. He knew each note by heart. He crunched his teeth together at the thought of wasting time sitting through rehearsals when he could be doing something more … he glanced at Brittany’s full rounded breasts … enticing was the word that came to mind.
They were dressed and heading out within ten minutes in Tara’s car. She’d picked him up at the hotel, and that was where they were headed now. Reid should be in a meeting as far as he knew, and the guys had a party to attend. In any case, he didn’t give a rat’s ass where they were or what they were doing.
By the time they reached the hotel, he was in a much better mood. They staggered into the hotel lobby, their arms interlocking as they moved past a few onlookers. When they reached the elevator, he grabbed one of Brittany’s breasts and gave it a gentle squeeze. He pushed Tara up against the wall and captured her mouth.
She moaned, giving him her tongue. They tumbled from the elevator as the doors parted, staggering towards the room. He fumbled a few seconds for his key and took another 30 seconds to get it to swipe, being distracted by his companions.
Brittany had her hands in his crotch while Tara was sucking on his tongue. As soon as they were inside the door, they began stripping. Colt broke away briefly to make sure the place was empty. That also took him a while to figure since his brain was a bit hazy.
He pulled the women to his room and kicked the door with his heel, but it didn’t quite close. He ignored the slightly ajar door and went on to matters that were more important. Tara pushed him onto the bed and pulled off his jeans while Brittany undressed. He closed his eyes and felt like he was still swimming. His cock was alert, however, and stood erect for Tara to run her hands on.
She was gently massaging it, and he liked the feel of it. Brittany had removed her clothes, and he could not help admiring her full breasts. He’d been waiting all day to taste them, and now they beckoned him. He pulled her down and took her nipples in his mouth, one behind the other. He savored each nipple while Tara took him into her mouth. Her warm lips ran up and down his length as she made sucking noises.
His mind was still fuzzy, but not that far gone that he couldn’t feel his arousal. However, it lacked the emotional connection he sometimes yearned to feel. That thing people called desire. All he wanted now was to plunge himself into a wet cunt. It didn’t matter which one. He was only holding back because he knew the women needed release as well. He knew that once this little ménage was over, he’d forget the whole thing until he wanted another fuck.
He was lying flat on his back, and Brittany came to sit on his face. He could feel her juices hit him smack on the lips as s
he straddled him. She was clean-shaven and pink. He closed his eyes and stuck his tongue out, licking wherever it came into contact with. Meanwhile, he felt Tara’s hot tongue sliding up and down his shaft. She licked the tip and then closed her mouth around it. Her teeth grazed him slightly, and he sucked in his breath at the sensation. She was good; he had to give her that.
Brittany was oozing wetness and ready to be fucked, but he held on a little more and took her pointed clit between his lips.
“Ahhh,” she moaned and wiggled her lips.
He plunged his tongue into her flesh and slid it in and out. She arched her back, groaning loudly. “Wait, I’m not ready, stop!”
She pushed up from her position and went to join Tara where she took his balls and kissed them gently. While Tara had his cock on her throat, Brittany began to lick them with her hot slippery tongue; he almost spurted his juices into Tara’s mouth.
He groaned and sat up, reaching for Tara. He pushed her dark hair back from her small oval face and brought her lips to his. He was ready now, so he flipped her over and pulled her ass up to his hips. Brittany was lying on her back with her knees up and her legs apart. She wiggled down to where Tara was. It was like they planned the whole damn scene.
Tara dipped her head and sank her face into Brittany’s woman place. The action nearly drove him wild. He opened Tara’s cheeks, pushed his thick cock into her gaping cavern and slid deeply inside. He heard her moan with pleasure at the impact of his thick cock filling her.
While he moved his hips, he watched as Tara gripped Brittany’s hips, much the way he would. She was licking and tongue fucking her the way he had before. Brittany made loud groans, arching her back and writhing her hips. He reached under and placed his index finger on Tara’s love button as he rammed into her from behind. He made steady circular motions around the erect clitoris, feeling her get wetter and wetter with each stroke.
“Fuck me!” she raised her head to urge him.
The Billionaire Bachelor - Box Set: The Billionaire's Hunt - A Complete Ten Book Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set Page 65
