“I like the way the dark wood carries through the entire bus.” She dropped in the side chair.
“It is a luxury bus meant to accommodate people like us. Some tours last months.” He pointed to the side panel. “There’s the closet and storage. Over there is my recording equipment.”
She glanced over his shoulder. “You plan to record? I’d think you would be too exhausted to record.”
“Most nights I will, it drains me. But the constant rhythm of music and fan interaction makes me extra creative. Here lately I’ve found myself writing nonstop.” And it was due to her. “I got a wild idea.”
Her eyes squinted. “I’m listening.”
“How about you take the bedroom and I sleep out there with the guys?”
“Oh no, you don’t.” She stood up, and he crossed to stop her from walking out. “I am a contract employee. I don’t want you giving me any special treatment.”
“No, special treatment?" Marques repeated.
“No. I don’t want them looking at me crazy.”
“Get ready, because they will look. And not because you’re crazy but because you’re so beautiful.” He slipped a hand behind her lower back and pulled her into his arms. “Isn’t that better?”
“Marques…”
“I’ve been waiting three days to do this. Stop fussing and kiss me.” He didn’t wait. He dipped his head and covered her luscious mouth. Her pillow-soft lips were the type dreams were made of. He felt her fingers laced behind his neck as she moaned.
Her body felt perfect against his. He cupped her bottom and gave it a full palm. He slowly pulled away.
“Girl you’re like cool water to a parched man.” She playfully smacked his chest.
“Well parched man, no more of this. I’m working, and you’re the boss. That will have to be your last drink of this water until Miami.”
Cameron’s voice bounced around in his head. Don’t bed where you make your bread. “And since your water is the only water I want, I guess I’ll have to die of thirst.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re the prince of R&B, and you’re feeding me those old corny lines.”
He laughed until his side hurt. “Are you trying to say my lines don’t work?”
“Not those. You have to come harder than that.”
He pulled her back against him, loving the feel of her. He lightly kissed her lips. “How about we make a little wager?”
“I’m listening.”
“I bet I can make you break this boss contractor argument before we hit the Florida state line.”
“You are mighty sure of yourself.” She tried to lean back, but he didn’t plan to let her go.
“Always.” He learned to always, always bet on himself.
“And what will I get when you lose, because Mr. Carter, you will lose.” She draped her arms across his shoulders as her breasts rested on his chest. Her confident smile made his manhood wiggle to life.
“Name it. A bonus, a car, jewelry, a private lap dance.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Don’t be cheap. I got a lap dance in Houston.” She laughed. “I’m a good sport. Surprise me.”
“Let’s kiss on it.” His lips puckered like a fish as he made kissing noises. He liked hearing her laugh, she was way too serious.
“Wait a minute.” She crossed her hands over his best fish lips. “What do you want if you win?”
“When I win…” he stole a kiss before she could decline it. “I want one night alone with you. No questions asked. No rules. What I say, goes.”
His heart raced. This woman made Marques feel reckless in the most life-altering kind of way. He wanted to tie her to his bed and taste every inch of her body. He wanted to spend days talking, traveling, and it made his world spin fast. It made days and nights morph into chunks of time without Brione and glorious moments with her.
No one would know but them. Okay, so Marques planned to break at least three of the Sinsation rules. But wasn’t Brione worth it? A resounding hell yeah rolled through his body.
“Don’t look so nervous princess, you’re going to enjoy every minute of your amazing surrender.”
“Prove it.”
And with a kiss, they sealed the bet.
Chapter Twenty
Brione laid alone in her bunk. Together they met with the band. There was the keyboardist, bass player, DJ, and a drummer. She was nervous at first, but the guys were cool. After hanging out in the front lounge talking for a half hour, she felt much better about the months ahead.
Before leaving Houston, she used a tool tucked away for special occasions: good ole fashion begging. She begged and whined until her mother broke, spilling enough juice to make her plan viable. She learned Mr. Bradley had some dirt on her father, which she figured. How else had he manipulated them all for three years, almost four? Then Brione shared her plans to get Kayla back, and her mother promised to help.
Her heart raced at the thought. Her mother, actually helping her. Pigs were definitely flying through the Texas skies. Then her mother did the unthinkable; she got Mrs. Bradley to grant Brione’s request to call Kayla tomorrow evening.
Could her life get any more perfect? No.
She didn’t need the universe to answer her question. Now to follow through with her plans to complete this tour. She rolled over on the soft mattress and pulled her notebook out of the storage pocket hanging on the wall stopping to run a hand across the wood detail in her bunk. What a fancy charter bus.
“How are you settling in?”
She turned her head, and his face was peaking through the curtain. He was so close she could count his thick eyelashes. “Do you know how many women pay for lashes like yours?”
He smiled. “I’ve never given it a thought. Wait until you meet my mother. We get it from her.”
“Your mom?” She propped up on her elbow.
“Yeah, she’ll be at the final show in Atlanta. You’ll meet everyone.”
“Everyone?” Meeting with Cameron was bad enough after they planned a no-strings-attached dalliance in Miami. Every time she talked to him she held her breath waiting for him to fire her. Like their agreement was written on her forehead. If he knew, he made no mention of it. But that didn’t stop her stomach from flip-flopping. And now adding in his parents, siblings, and their bet. She’d probably be sick.
“Don’t look like that.” He reached over and rubbed his thumb between her eyebrows. “See that’s better. Nothing is ever that serious, princess.”
That’s what made the thought of this bet exciting. Everything about her life was serious—as life and death. Serious as in losing the only true love of her life, Kayla. She had a lot to be serious about. She mentally noted to call the family attorney when she returned home.
“There you go again.” He rubbed this time cupping her face between his hands. “And don’t moan like that, it makes me think wicked thoughts.”
She laughed. “I’ll stop when you stop.”
His eyes focused on her mouth and she pulled her lips in remembering his kissing fish face. “That is not helping us. Let’s change the subject. I plan to win this bet fair and square. But first I need to collect some data.”
“Data? For what?” She traced the edge of his ear.
“Would a coach give the opposing team his playbook?”
“No. But this ain’t a game.” To say Marques was charming was an understatement. His charm was unmatched by his patience. Every roadblock she presented he seemed to step around it, walk through it, or merely pretend it didn’t exist.
“Princess this is the game as old as time,” he whispered for her ears only.
Her breath caught. Change the subject. Her brain screamed.
The more she heard his nickname for her the more she thought of his mouth. The more she thought of his mouth, the more she thought about that night. She dropped her head as heat flooded her face, remembering the relief her body felt alone in her living room on the couch logically led to wondering about the real thi
ng.
“Soon, princess, soon.” His heated gaze caused a shiver to run through her body. “Come sit with me.” She kicked her legs over the side and hopped down following him to the lounge. Marques sat in a recliner, and she did too.
“Will it just be your parents?”
“No, let’s see. You’ve already met Cameron. He’s the oldest. Then there’s Kyle and Lauren. Want a drink?”
“I’ll take a bottle of water. What does Kyle do?”
He leaned over and pulled out two bottles of water from the small refrigerator, passing one to her. “He works with our father. Since Dad still tours, Kyle oversees it all. Much like the way Cameron is managing RSE.”
She nodded and took a drink. “What about Lauren?”
“She’s in college.”
“I thought you were the youngest.”
“Technically I am, but our parents adopted Lauren.”
“How was that?” She pulled the wooden handle, reclining the chair back.
“We all were raised together. Lauren's father was a member of Sinsations and like an uncle to us growing up. When her parents passed away, my folks adopted her. She adds a little softness to our otherwise male-dominated family.” He laughed. “But mom is no joke.”
Brione liked the look of joy on his face. “You all seem very close.”
“We are. You’ll see.” He quieted as he reclined staring into space.
“Thank you for texting a checklist.” She held up her phone. He sent it last night, and she added the suggested earplugs, eyeshades, flashlight and warm socks to her carry-on bag.
“I know how you like checklists.” He chuckled.
“Oh be quiet.” She playfully slapped his arm. “How do you feel about this tour, now that we're loaded and on the road? You ready?”
He turned towards her, the smile dropping from his face. “I felt fine until my brothers decided to give me a pep talk.”
“Oh no, what did they say?”
“You don’t want to know.” He grimaced.
“Now I really want to know.” She twisted in the chair and pulled her legs in. The coolness of the bus made her shiver.
“Let me grab your blanket.” He placed his water in the cupholder in the arm of the chair and popped the chair upright. “They gave me the Sinsation rules.”
He chuckled as he walked back to her bunk returning with her quilt. She reached for it as he reclaimed his seat. She draped the cover over them both. “What are the sensation rules?”
“Not sensation but Sinsation. Like the group.” He laughed pulling the quilt up to his chin.
“I’ve always had my face in a book.”
“My father is a member of the Sinsations. They recorded original music in the 60s and 70s. Since then they’ve toured several times a year. Do you know…lady, I'd die for a drop of your love…” She watched his profile as he sang with his eyes closed. No music, just the hum of the bus rolling them closer to Louisiana.
She knew the song, it was one of her mother’s favorites. She purposely didn’t Google him. She knew too well that images and videos online could be doctored and manipulated. Learning it firsthand was better.
His last note held and she clapped softly not wanting to wake the others. “You have an amazing voice.”
“Thanks.” He smiled glancing over at her.
“Do you find it hard being his son?”
He shrugged. “Not anymore. I did for a while, and it caused more grief than it was worth.” He turned away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t know. I always knew I wanted to sing, but I ran from my father’s shadow. I was stubborn. It took a few hard knocks to see everything my parents did from a new perspective. I was a spoiled kid used to getting what I wanted, when I wanted, and I didn’t appreciate all they did for me. I felt entitled while at the same time I hated the public nature of my entire life.”
The ache mirrored in his tone found a home in her soul. Like it was speaking a language she could not yet comprehend. “What do you mean? You all seem so close.”
“We are but not without years of being torn apart. We live, and we learn. Right?”
“Yes, we do.”
Brione knew not to push forward. The grimace on Marques' face hardened his handsome features. She missed his smile. Leaning over she rubbed her thumb between his eyebrows, dropping her voice a few octaves to match his, “Nothing is ever that serious princess.”
He captured her wrist and kissed it. Then her palm. He folded her hands in his settling them in his lap. Did she too need a new perspective when dealing with her parents? She let the thought roll around in her mind as the charter bus rolled down the highway.
The light of hope from talking with her mother made her wonder if one day her father would come around too. Whether they would find a real relationship. Whether she’d find the closeness in her family that Marques had with his. He fell asleep with his head back, tucked under her quilt, with his hand still holding hers. His life had a fairytale quality to it that she long ago disregarded as the daughter of a politician. Her father’s ambitious career meant she’d experienced the rich and famous to the poor and marginalized.
People in her family’s circle—her world—didn’t vacation together without reason. They didn’t raise their children together without reason. They shook hands, kissed babies, and sealed deals, guaranteed to ruin lives all to suit those personal reasons. And not all of them, yet she’d met enough to tuck that world away in a box. But the remnants of its overflow waged war in her heart as she considered this trip with Marques.
That world took away the fantasies and innocence of people being nice just to be nice. Instead, she always looked for the ulterior motive never fully trusting anyone. Could she trust him?
It felt real.
He felt real. As his warm hands held hers.
But only for two months.
By the end of the summer, she’d have to give the man she loathed a date. A question she’d avoided for almost four years. She squeezed her eyes shut searching for a better thought, a better image, and Kayla surfaced.
Her caramel skin. Her thick curly hair. Her baby fat cheeks.
A stark reality hit her, she inherited a lot from her dad. She too was willing to shake hands, kiss babies, and ink her name in blood to get her baby back. Unlike her father’s unknown dealings with Mr. Bradley, Marques understood the parameters of their agreement.
“You straight?” Marques shifted in the chair turning on his side, not letting go of her hand. His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled. His penetrating gaze closed the space between them.
“Yes, get some rest.”
He kissed her hand, and his deep breaths resumed. Instead of counting sheep, she’d have to count the days. She glanced at the date on her watch, it was a new day.
Fifty-five days.
She had fifty-five days to enjoy him and then she would have to let him go. And embrace a new life either officially as Stewart’s fiancé or as a single parent. Those were her only options if she wanted to be Kayla’s mother full time.
For the next fifty-five days, she was his. She knew she’d eventually give him her body, not her heart. She couldn’t afford to give it to him. But a part of her felt him seeping through her checklists and mental boxes, through her plans and her corny sense of humor. He made her feel…special.
She tucked Stewart, Kayla, law school, and her family each in their individual boxes in the outer space of her mind.
Then she pulled out a box hidden deep in the cervices of her heart. It was probably dusty since it rarely received her undivided attention. This was her Brione box, inside she safeguarded the girl she was before and the woman she longed to be now. It was time for her to get a little TLC and Marques was just the man to do it, she hoped.
She leaned her head back against the plush leather recliner and closed her eyes satisfied with her decision. Then somewhere between Houston and New Orleans, they
fell asleep.
Together.
Chapter Twenty-One
NOLA. He stepped off the bus and let his eyes take in the sights and sounds of New Orleans at the Essence Festival. When Brione brought to Cameron’s attention their request to have him in one of the Superlounges, a smaller soundstage, Devin did not hesitate in inking the deal. So instead of a small intimate venue, the first night could number close to five thousand music enthusiasts.
The band moved around him removing equipment. Brione in the center with her infamous checklist had upgraded to a clipboard. She balanced her cellphone on the end of it while talking with the DJ.
He would let them do their jobs, and he had to burn off some of his antsy energy. Entering the stateroom, he pulled out his workout gear and clothes. The stadium should offer a good sweat, he called his connect and got the green light. So he changed before the first sound checks were scheduled.
Minutes later he stood in the mirror in a snapback, weighted vest, and running shorts. He turned in circles searching for his shoes. A light tap sounded at the door.
“Come in.” He spotted his shoes.
“Hey. That’s an interesting contraption.” She pointed at his vest.
“I packed on an extra hundred pounds.” He sat on the end of the bed and put on his shoes. “How’d it go?”
“Good. They headed to grab breakfast. We can’t check in for the sound check for another couple hours.” He tied the last lace and glanced up at her. “Do you want me to grab you some breakfast?”
“Nah, I can’t eat before I perform. My nerves won’t let me.”
“I’ll grab something light just in case.” She turned to head out, he followed.
“Who are you leaving with?” She stopped at her bunk and worked to place items in one pocket, then the other.
“No one. I’m heading to the lounge to take a few pictures for the band.” She wiggled her phone and put it in her back pocket.
Rockstar Secrets (Forbidden Chords Book 1) Page 10
