by L. J. Dee
I decided to play on his reputation to ensure the inappropriate glances wouldn’t continue all afternoon. “Well he does, and you might want to know that he doesn’t appreciate other men leering at my breasts. So I suggest if you want those fingers to stay straight, you move your eyes upwards,” I smiled sweetly as Tyler laughed. From that point on I was treated as one of the boys.
I could hardly believe I was getting a private concert and sitting in a jamming session with Heat. This would be one to tell the Grandchildren. They were playing a mix of tracks, perfecting their sound before experimenting with new ones, riffs and lyrics that Tyler was throwing around. It was enthralling, and for a few moments I couldn’t take my eyes off the younger Hunter brother. I could see the attraction, and wasn’t surprised the record company were thrusting him forward as the face of the band.
The other three were attractive in their own way, but he stole the stage when he opened his mouth. His voice was angelic, then raw, powerful and deeply sexual and he had the most incredible range. He could flip from soft ballads to heavy rock as they played around with different options and it was mesmerising to watch. It didn’t hurt that he also looked like a sexy son of a bitch, lean and muscular with a naughty twinkle in those dazzling blue eyes.
He was different to the others, especially when he performed. In the house he was just the youngest of four incredible brothers. When he sang, he was something else. He was confident and flamboyant; acting like he ruled the world and had every right to be there. He wasn’t serious like Lucas and Roman, or charming and funny like Charlie. He was the impossibly attractive mix of hot man meets naughty schoolboy with a cheeky charisma that morphed into smouldering sexy in one strum of those strings.
The drummer, known simply as ‘Basher’ turned to Tyler, half way through a song called ‘Brighten the night’ and told him to slow it down. “I think this is one of our strongest tracks. We’ve got a gig at the Academy in Manchester to coincide with its release, but I think we should try it softer,” he said as Tyler span to face him.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the gig?” he asked, as Basher shrugged.
“I just did. We only found out a couple of days ago and you’ve had enough to deal with,” he said as Tyler nodded.
“The Academy?” he grinned and I knew instantly this was a pretty big deal for the boys.
“Yeah, and when this album launches we’ll be playing the arena. Get ready for the big time, Ty,” he winked as Tyler laughed.
“You need to create some interest, cause a bit of a stir and get some publicity for us,” Mick the bass guitarist said as Tyler flashed a glance at me.
“Sex, drugs or women?” he smirked, gauging my opinion.
“If you really want to create a splash, I suggest all three. But as far as drugs are concerned, you’d better be careful, and for God’s sake don’t tell Lucas I suggested that.”
I looked up as Roman walked into the room and Tyler grinned broadly. I was assessing his face for signs of his mood as he sat, pulling me onto his lap. “Basher, Mick, Si,” he nodded to each of the band in turn. “Show us what you’ve got then, Tyler,” he said, holding me in place as Tyler began to sing Obsession again. He was watching the band closely and giving little away regarding the events of earlier.
“Play me another song from the album,” he said as Tyler looked around at the band.
“Can we try ‘Wonderment’? I’m still not happy with the chorus on that track,” Tyler suggested as Si moved to the piano and Tyler grabbed his guitar. The song was slower than the others and softer in style. The gentle rock track gave Tyler the opportunity to showcase his vocal range as Roman suddenly picked me from his knee and moved to grab another guitar that was resting in the corner.
“It needs to pick up at the chorus, right before you slam into that low gravelly sound. You need to make more of it, the transition is just too smooth,” he said, playing out the notes as Tyler watched him closely. I raised my eyebrows. I had no idea Roman Hunter was musical. He didn’t seem the type, but he was concentrating hard and certainly looked like he knew what he was doing.
“Basher, do you get what I mean?” Roman asked; turning to look at him as Tyler practiced. Basher nodded, playing out his understanding as Roman walked across to him, reaching out for his drumsticks. “Like that, but harder as Tyler goes into the third line of the chorus,” he said, demonstrating twice on the drums. He picked up the guitar again, playing with them as they took the track from the top.
He looked as sexy as sin, rocking out with his brother and he was totally immersed in the sound, as though music were his second nature. It was as captivating as it was surprising. As soon as they hit the chorus I knew he was right. Roman Hunter had nailed it. It was just what was missing, adding a new depth to the song, and by the time they finished I was applauding hard.
“That sounds incredible,” I smiled as Tyler grinned.
“I knew there was something, I just couldn’t figure out what it was. You should be in this band, Roman.”
“He’s right, you should,” I smiled at him as he laughed softly. “I didn’t even know you could play.”
“We all play something. My mother insisted we all learned an instrument. She said music fed the soul and it would be good for us. I think she wanted us to be like the Von Trapp family,” he said as Tyler laughed.
“With looks and talent like that, you’d go global,” I said as Tyler raised his eyebrows.
“I think you might have just insulted my band,” he laughed, glancing around at Si, Mick and Basher, but they didn’t seem bothered. I imagined anyone who hung around the Hunter’s too long got used to the continued adulation of everyone they met.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I smiled apologetically.
“Well, Charlie would struggle. There isn’t much call for a Cellist in a rock band.”
“Cello? Why on earth did he pick that?” I gasped, wondering what he’d been thinking. Electric guitar was far sexier.
“I have no idea. Lucas plays guitar and drums, Roman can play just about anything and I guess Charlie wanted to be different,” Tyler shrugged as I shook my head, laughing softly.
“Can you really?” I asked, turning to Roman as he nodded. “Why aren’t you in the band then?”
“Good question,” quipped Tyler, holding his brothers gaze.
“Because it’s too high profile. Appearing on album covers and MTV is not conducive to the work I do, trust me,” he said seriously, moving to sit beside me again.
“And do you sing, Roman?” Tyler was smiling broadly, nodding in response to my question. Roman stayed silent. “Will you sing for me?” I asked, turning to face him, holding his gaze. That was something I really wanted to hear.
He was quiet for a moment. “One day,” he smiled, running his fingers slowly across my lips. “I bet this angelic mouth makes some pretty cool sounds.” It really didn’t and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You know the orgasmic pig?” I grinned as Tyler laughed and Roman just stared at me, bemused. I realised I’d relayed that story just before he’d made his grand and unexpected entrance. “Well, when I sing, it sounds like the orgasmic pig is being simultaneously strangled.”
Roman headed to the fridge in the corner and pulled out five beers. “I don’t want one, thanks,” I said as he handed them out, deciding I’d go and get some juice, kissing him on the cheek before I made my way back to the kitchen, gasping at the mess and wondering whose decision it had been to give the housekeeper time off.
They were clearly used to people picking up after them, and my sister was no better. Breakfast bowls and plates still littered the table and there were mugs, cups and glasses everywhere. I’d met tidier students. I started to collect the pots, loading the dishwasher and filling the sink with soapy water. I wasn’t certain how it happened, but at home we’d slipped into a routine where I did everything because I seldom worked in the day. She’d need to pull her finger out, but then again, if things worked out
with Lucas she’d have a housekeeper of her own one day. Lucky bitch!
I searched through the cupboards for the dishwasher tablets, crouching on the floor in pink rubber gloves, looking up as Charlie walked in. “What are you doing?” he asked as I resisted the urge to say ‘What the hell does it look like?’
I settled on, “I’m cleaning up after you scruffy buggers,” as he glanced at me briefly before making his way into the lounge. So he hadn’t cooled off then. Roman came in moments later, watching me as I rifled through the cupboard of cleaning products.
“I’ve never wanted to fuck the help, but you’ve just created a whole new fantasy, Chas,” he said as I turned, trying not to laugh.
“The help? You really have been raised in a different world. Some of us have never had a servant, and it seems like none of you even know how to load a dishwasher,” I said, biting my lip to stifle my smile at the look on his face. “Seriously, Roman, you might be able to survive single handed in the jungle, but pots don’t wash themselves. Some skills are more valuable than others,” I said as he laughed.
“That depends on where you are. Soaping up breakfast dishes isn’t much use when you’re fighting an alligator,” he grinned as I wondered for a second if he’d actually done that. Nothing about this man would surprise me.
“Well as far as I can see, there are no alligators in this kitchen; so do me a favour and grab the rest of those cups,” I said as he picked them up, placing them on the side and I finally found the dishwater tablets. I set it going, pulling out the kitchen cleaner and getting to work on the surfaces as Roman watched me curiously, picking up the last dirty mug and dropping it on the floor by his feet.
“Oops. You’re gonna have to clean that up,” he smirked as I stood there in astonishment, wondering what the hell he was playing at. “Go on,” he said, moving to the cupboard for the dustpan and brush, handing them to me. “On your knees,” he said in a deep, sexy voice that reverberated through me. Ordinarily I’d have been incensed, but something in his eyes told me I might just enjoy this little game.
I bent down, brushing the porcelain into the safety of the huge plastic dustpan as he swatted my arse, tutting loudly. “Don’t crouch, bend over properly,” he scalded as I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what he wanted, turning my back to him and allowing my skirt to ride decidedly too high. I could feel his eyes all over me.
He omitted a small groan from deep in his throat and my skin prickled in response, goose bumps flaring on my skin as I caught his lust filled gaze. I cleared the shards, moving to empty them into the bin, before retrieving the cloth from the sink and crouching to wipe up the coffee stain from the marble floor, flashing him a generous view of my cleavage.
“You are a naughty little maid,” he winked as I giggled. I could see the bulge of his erection as I stood up slowly, hoping that no one would come in. I hated to think what Charlie’s reaction might be at seeing me behave literally like a scrubber.
“You need to clean the lodge now, and you’ll definitely need those gloves,” he said, flashing his eyebrows mischievously as I made my way outside, thankful that no one had seen.
He ran ahead of me as I wondered what the hell he was up to, shouting me to the bedroom as soon as I opened the door, my heart skipping an excited beat as butterflies erupted in my stomach.
I pushed the door open tentatively, only to see him lying gloriously naked on the bed with a solid erection that had my name written all over it. My insides were twisting with excitement as I bit my lip. “I think you’ll find that could be suitable grounds for sexual harassment of your staff, Mr Hunter,” I said, trying to maintain a serious face as those blue eyes twinkled, running over every inch of my body, firing up my cells as I shivered deliciously.
“I think you’re unlikely to prosecute, Miss Evangelista. Now strip to your panties and clean my room. Oh, and leave the gloves on,” he said as I smiled.
“Very well, Mr Hunter, you’re the boss,” I said as his eyes glazed over, darkening and intensifying, watching me closely as I fumbled around with my buttons and zipper. Undressing in rubber gloves was more difficult than it looked.
“Does the help need some help?” he laughed as I nodded, hoping we could dispense with the cleaning part and just get dirty. He rose from the bed, slowly undoing the last few buttons, removing my top and letting my skirt fall to the floor. “Keep the shoes on too, I fucking love naked women in heels,” he grinned, unclipping my bra with expert ease and returning to the bed.
I stood there for a moment as he quirked an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to perform my tasks, dressed only in my black cotton panties, stiletto heels and pink Marigolds. It was strangely thrilling having him watch me this way. I started to wipe down the dresser in the corner, catching his gaze in the mirror. My panties were embarrassingly wet after the incident in the field, and he was gazing longingly at me, those searing blue eyes flicking hungrily between my thighs, my breasts and my lips as I dusted down the huge cabinet.
“That’s enough,” he grinned, gasping as I watched his hand grab his cock, teasing it slowly in the reflection of the mirror.
“You see what you’ve done to me,” he said as I held his gaze before my eyes wandered down to the glorious sight of Roman Hunter pleasuring himself and arousal flooded through me. His sex drive was insatiable and I was breathing hard, transfixed by the sight of that incredible body. He lifted his finger in the air, twirling it as a silent instruction for me to turn around. “Do you like what you see?” he asked as I nodded mutely, my dry mouth betraying my need as he beckoned me over towards the bed.
“Your turn,” he said, grasping my hand, my fingers replacing his around that solid shaft, wondering how the rubber must feel against his cock. “I want you on your knees again,” he said seriously, but his eyes were dancing and he didn’t have to ask twice as I took his swollen head in my mouth, sucking and licking gently as he held my gaze.
“Fuck, Chas, that feels good,” he hissed through clenched teeth as I took the entire length of him as far as I could mange into my throat, looking into his eyes and holding his balls in the grip of rubber as he threw his head back. “For a cleaner, you’re fucking filthy,” he growled, extracting his cock and pulling me onto the bed, flipping me onto my back and spreading my legs. He moaned at the moisture that was pooled at my centre as he removed the thin fabric covering me, bringing my rubber clad fingers down to my pussy.
“Do you like how it feels?” he asked and I shook my head.
“I like how you feel better, boss,” I whispered as he seared me with a look so powerful and bursting with lust that I opened my legs wider, offering him everything. He inserted his fingers, rotating them gently inside me and massaging my clit softly with the pad of his thumb as I cried out loud. His cock twitched impatiently at my thigh and I craved the fullness, wanting him to continue what he was doing as waves of pleasure built inside me.
“How will you explain this in a court of law, Miss Evangelista, that you were laid on my bed with your legs spread, begging me to make you come,” he smiled, kissing me gently as I gasped.
“I’m not begging,” I said through raspy breaths as my insides curled. He stopped suddenly, just as my body hit the brink and I moaned out loud.
He teased around my clit, stroking my folds and slowly entering me, keeping me teetering on the edge with an expert accuracy that was as torturous as it was tantalising. I was floating in pleasure, needing the release as he denied me time and again until I couldn’t take another damn touch.
“Please, Roman,” I gasped as he licked his lips.
“Are you begging, Miss Evangelista?” he asked, his voice rolling smoothly across my senses while he stroked his fingers against me, nudging my clit as I tensed. I was ready to unravel as he pulled away, and I groaned out loud. “I’m not sure I should be fucking the help. Maybe I should just pleasure myself instead.”
“Okay, I’m begging,” I breathed as he smiled deliciously, resuming the pressure on my desperate nerves
as I exploded in ecstasy, crying his name as he stifled my blissful moans with an incredible and possessive kiss that stole the breath from my body.
“Now I’m going to fuck my maid and since you begged so nicely, I’ll be doing it hard,” he growled as I floated back down from my high, gasping as he turned me onto my front, raising my arse in the air and plunging into me from behind. The feeling of fullness was indescribable as Roman fucked my saturated pussy, running his hands over my skin, setting me alight in every pleasure centre I had.
He was hard and he was fast, each determined thrust hitting my very limits as I cried out with every contact. He grabbed my waist firmly and I could feel every inch of that solid cock firing up my cells as pleasure overwhelmed me again. “God, Roman, I can’t take any more,” I cried, shuddering beneath him as my orgasm took hold, grabbing the sheets, clawing at the fabric in pink rubber.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he cried out behind me, collapsing on top of me before turning me over gently and holding me in his strong arms.
He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as we recovered together and I finally removed the pink Marigolds, throwing them on the floor as he started to laugh. “Lucas will have to be careful who he employs now, I think you’ve given me a rubber glove fetish.”
“You really don’t want to wind up in court for fucking the help, Mr Hunter,” I said, casting him a stern glance as he winked at me.
“You’re right. I learnt once that fucking the staff was a bad idea,” he said as I gasped, sitting upright and staring at him hard.
“Here? You told me you’ve never wanted to fuck the help,” I said in shock as he started to chuckle.
“No, at school,” he grinned as if that were perfectly normal.
“You fucked a teacher?” The fact that my voice raised at least six octaves, betrayed my incredulity. I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. This man was capable of anything, and I’d had a real teenage crush on my history teacher. If he’d have asked, I’d have got dirty with him among the models of Greek and Roman ruins that littered our classroom. Raging teenage hormones could do that to a girl. Boys were even worse.
