by Eden Summers
The band hadn’t started, so Retro Pete’s wasn’t busy yet, allowing Mason to easily find the women in question—the too skinny blonde and her generously endowed brunette friend. “They’ll do.”
Jim jutted his chin in the women’s direction, and the ladies slid from their bar stools in a mass of giggles. As they approached, Mason pasted a predatory grin on his face. The weight of Sidney’s gaze fell on his shoulders. He could sense her interest by the straightening of her posture from his periphery. Hook, line, and sinker.
“Thanks, Jim. I owe you one.”
“No worries.” Jim grabbed his soda off the bar and turned to leave. “I’ll keep watch from the other side of the room.”
Mason nodded in thanks and turned his attention to the alcohol glazed eyes of the women who stopped before him.
“Howdy,” he drawled, raking his gaze over their easily accessible assets. Neither one of them sparked any interest in him. Maybe on another night, in another place, he wouldn’t have to fake his attraction. But right now, he only had eyes for one woman, and the ones before him were pathetic in contrast.
“Mason Lynch, is that really you?” The blonde bit her bottom lip.
“Sure is. Can I buy you both a drink?”
“That depends,” the brunette cooed, straightening her shoulders to thrust out the boobs already taking up most of his vision. “How would I repay you?”
He chuckled. These women weren’t his type—too eager, too easy. He liked his women confident, yet respectable. Flirtatious not slutty. They would work perfectly as bait though. “I don’t know. What would you suggest?”
They stepped closer, their approach in sync. He leaned back into the bar, allowing them space to squeeze between him and the stools on either side. They were close, too close, their pungent perfume making him hold in a wince.
They took the liberty to nestle into him. Blondie ran a hand over his stomach, batting her fake lashes, while her friend almost straddled his thigh. Every second made his skin crawl, and he wondered how long it would take to make his point to Sidney and Sean. Only now, he couldn’t see their reactions. Not unless he blatantly glanced over his shoulder.
“Mmm.” The brunette brushed his package with her knuckles. “You’re eager.”
“Seems like it.” He clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to brush away her touch.
“I’ve got something you can nibble on,” the blonde purred.
This was ridiculous. He shouldn’t have to pimp himself out to make a point. What he had to do was tell Sean to fuck off, and steal his muse back from the woman who’d taken it. No more games. No more hiding behind the lies of the past.
Unable to keep his gaze away, he peered over his shoulder and wasn’t surprised to find Sidney glaring back at him. Her back was stiff, her jaw tense. Not a happy camper, kitten?
He shot her a knowing glance. Just because he was sick of playing, didn’t mean he was immune to rubbing in his victory. Sean and Sidney had been caught out in their attempt to make him jealous. There was no way he’d let that shit slide.
He continued to hold her gaze, his grin growing as the defeat in her features increased. Then the games were over. Sidney broke eye contact, grabbed her jacket and purse from the table, and then stormed for the door. Shit. Guilt swamped him with an unforgiving throb to his chest.
“Excuse me, ladies.”
He pushed past the leeches, ignoring their gasps of incredulity, and rushed after Sidney. As he cornered their booth, Sean grabbed his wrist, stopping his momentum.
“Don’t fuck with her,” Sean snarled.
“What?” He jerked back, ready to start swinging.
“I said ‘Don’t. Fuck. With. Her.’ After all you’ve done and everything she’s been through, she deserves better.”
Mason clenched his free hand and glared. “So the two of you can fuck me around with your stupid games, yet if I retaliate, I’m the bad guy?” Sean was two seconds away from losing teeth.
“I’m not joking, Mace.” The bitter tone left his words, and he dropped his hold. “She’s still fragile, and even though she deserves better, she’s still stuck on you.”
Mason froze. Stuck on you? He glanced at the door, needing to see her face to know the truth, but she was gone. “I guess we’ve got a lot to sort out,” he murmured.
“You’ve got a lot to make up for.”
And there it was, the judgmental bullshit that made him fly off the handle every fucking time. He shoved at Sean’s shoulder, not caring when the asshat fell back into the booth.
Sean slowly righted himself, maintaining eye contact as his nostrils flared. “You’re such an asshole.”
Mason supposed he should be thankful his friend didn’t pounce on him. They both knew who would be the victor if a brawl started. But right now, he was itching for the numbing pain of violence to soothe his miserable thoughts.
“Yeah?” Mason gave a derisive chuckle. “I was thinking the same damn thing.” He strode away, pushing through the exit door hard enough for it to make a loud crack against the wall.
“Sidney!” The cold night air whipped against his face as he stalked into the darkness. He caught sight of her walking toward the tailgate of Sean’s pickup, and once she heard his call, she diverted her course, heading for the road.
“For fuck’s sake, Sidney. Slow down.” The crunch of his footsteps against the asphalt became louder as he increased his pace, breaking into a jog to catch up with her. “You can’t be out here by yourself.”
He had her within his grasp, her delicate perfume igniting his senses. He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. “Where the hell are you going?”
She met his dark stare, immediately ensnaring him with the mix of anger and pain. “I needed fresh air.”
“You sure about that? It kinda looked like envy was nipping at your heels.” One day, he’d learn from the mistake of opening his mouth before thinking through his words. But tonight didn’t seem like the night to start.
“Envy? Over those tramps?” She slid her arm from his grasp and laughed. “Get over yourself. I’ve had too much to drink and needed to clear my head.”
“Bullshit. You’ve had two glasses of wine, the rest were soda.” Two wines, two sodas, a packet of chips she nibbled on for half an hour, and one trip to the bathroom.
She raised her chin and narrowed her gaze. “So, you’re watching what I drink now?”
I’m watching everything you do. I can’t stop myself.
“It was in my best interests. I didn’t want you to get drunk and accuse me of something I didn’t do. Again,” he snarled. Defense mode had set in. He couldn’t help it, and he also knew the drill from here. She’d sling hateful words, he’d shoot more aggressive ones back. And so on and so forth until the argument escalated past the point of return.
“You…” Her mouth worked around silent words.
He waited, watching her eyes become glassy. Then, in a twirl of hair and scraping asphalt, she turned and stomped away.
“Fuck!” His curse shot through the parking lot like a gun blast.
Why did they keep doing this? Going round and round in circles. Every time he wanted to fix things, he ended up cocking them up. He couldn’t control his urge to defend himself, yet god knew every time her vicious teeth sunk deep, he ached to drag her body against his.
“I’m sorry, kitten,” he grated. Christ. Why couldn’t he think straight around her? He wouldn’t be able to turn his life around without her. He had to tell her the truth.
She spun around, the clap of her fuck-me boots hitting heavy as she stalked back toward him. Fire burned in her eyes, defiance etched into her posture. Giddy up, lust. His veins flooded with desire, his cock twitching at the venom in her gaze. She stormed up to him with blazing eyes and got right in his face.
“Don’t call me that.”
His nostrils flared at her vehemence. His chest pounded with her feral tone. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t hold back. So he did what an
y hot-blooded male would’ve done. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling them together, and smashed his mouth against hers.
For a second, his mind went blank, too caught up in her taste, her sweet smell, the gentle way her soft curves melted into him. She was kissing him back, the ferocious sweep of her lips matching his own, her hands clinging to his shirt.
With a harsh shove, she pushed him back, breaking the connection with a gasp. Her cheeks reddened with passion, her eyes wild with lust. They stared at one another through panted breaths, building his desire, making him mindless with the need to taste her again. He couldn’t stand there with a throbbing cock, the sweetest wildcat within his grasp, and not kiss her. So he leaned in again, taking her lips. Hard.
She rammed the heels of her palms into his chest and shoved. “Don’t.”
Her words denied him, but her delicious body was snuggled into his. Unmoving. He’d been with enough women to recognize passion. And right now, he was happy to take what he could get, hopefully building on it in the future.
This time, he leaned in slower, bringing their mouths an inch apart. She stood ramrod straight, her chest heaving, her doe eyes blinking up at him. As their lips brushed, he felt her hand run between them, heading for his crotch.
Oh, yeah, kitten. Touch me there.
She grabbed his dick, and he moaned with satisfaction. Her hands were warm through the denim of his jeans, the friction enough to make his balls tense. Then her grip tightened, harder, the pleasure vanishing under the wash of pain.
“I said, ‘don’t.’” She continued to crunch his livelihood.
He dropped his hands from her sides and released a broken gasp, unable to step away for the fear of losing his cock. “You b-break it…you bought it,” he rasped.
The side of her lips curved in a snarl, yet the anger was diluted by the lone tear sliding down her cheek. “Do I have your attention now?” She wiped away the show of emotion with a rough hand. “Don’t ever call me kitten again. Understand?”
He winced and gave a jerky nod. He’d agree to perform their next tour naked if it meant getting his junk back unharmed.
“Good,” she drawled.
The crunch of footsteps sounded behind him, and Mason let out a relieved breath when she released her grip.
“Everything OK here?” Sean muttered. “You’ve got an audience.”
Fucking Sean. Always the man of the hour. Mason glanced over his shoulder, finding his bodyguard, the two tramps, and a few faceless people watching them from the front of Retro Pete’s.
“I want to leave,” Sidney murmured, taking a step back.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Sean shot Mason a death stare. “You can sit in the back.”
Great. Fucking great. “No problem,” he grated, following them to the pickup and giving Jim a lazy wave. “At least I’ll have a little privacy to inspect the claw marks in my dick.”
Sean unlocked the truck and flung open the driver’s door. “You’d have more privacy if you walked.”
“You want me to walk home?” Mason strode up to him, ignoring the sting in his crotch. “Fine. I’ll fucking hitch then.”
“Stop it.” Sidney slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her and settling her pleading stare on little drummer boy. “Please, Sean. I just want to get out of here.”
Mason’s heart sank at the defeat in her tone. He wanted to be the man she looked to for comfort, not the one who caused her pain. The whole dynamic was wrong. Sidney should hate Sean for sparking the wrong ideas about the sex tape in the first place. Yet, with one scorching kiss, Mason suddenly felt like his chance to rewrite the past had been lost for good.
SIDNEY FIDDLED WITH the zipper on her purse, the weight of Mason’s stare heavy on the back of her neck. She was at the point of hysteria, trying to withhold a laugh at how ridiculous her life had become.
She was pathetic. Once, she’d been at the height of her aspirations, working with the best in the business with a waiting list stretching almost twelve months. Now, she couldn’t even beg for work, and the only offer she’d received this year was from the man who ruined her.
Still, she’d wanted his kiss. And for the briefest moment, she’d taken it. She’d wanted the ferocity of his lips, the skilled devouring of his tongue. She’d pretended they were lovers, not enemies, and for those few fleeting seconds, life had been perfect. Then the reality of her pitiful existence slammed to the forefront.
“You OK?” Sean whispered, his voice barely registering over the dull sound of the radio.
“Yeah.”
He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently before letting go to grip the steering wheel. They traveled in silence, each darkened street melting into the next. When her phone beeped with an incoming email, she pulled it from her jacket pocket, thankful for a distraction from the depression building inside her.
She hoped it was Justin. Even though he’d still be holding a grudge at her choice to be here, she needed his friendship right now. Without him by her side, she was lonely, more vulnerable, and she couldn’t wait to get back to New York for one of his soothing hugs.
Sender: X
Subject: Stay Away
Sidney frowned as she opened the unread email and began skimming the contents.
You don’t want to go down the road to humiliation again, do you?
Stay away from him.
Swallowing over the dryness in her throat, she scrolled lower, to the image embedded in the main part of the email.
“Oh, Christ.” It was a picture of her and Mason from moments earlier. Their lips interlocked, his hands on her hips as she leaned into his body. Fan-fucking-tastic. She glanced over her shoulder to determine if they’d sent the same email to Mason, only to find him staring blankly out the backseat window.
“What is it?” Sean asked.
“I-I don’t know.” Her hands were shaking. The rampant beat of her heart made it hard to breathe. She didn’t want to be the highlight of another gossip column. Even though their scandal was old news, a picture like this could spark a new media frenzy.
“Sid?” Mason asked softly.
All it took was her name on his lips. The gently uttered word, spoken with concern made her lose control of her wavering composure. She scoffed, enraged and defeated all at once. “As if you care.”
“Fuck me,” Mason muttered, slumping back into his seat.
“Yeah, fuck you, Mason,” she snarled.
He laughed, long and hard. “Been there, done that. Remember?”
“Ignore him,” Sean growled. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She inhaled a deep breath and re-read the message. “I think one of Mason’s friends from the bar has sent me a threatening email.”
“What?” Sean and Mason echoed in unison.
“Show me.” Sean held out a hand for her cell.
“No.” She shook her head. “Not while you’re driving. Wait until we get home.”
Home. She wanted to curse the poor description. Thankfully, Mason didn’t utter a smart retort. He simply remained quiet in the backseat, staring out his window with a tense set to his jaw. As they approached the entrance to his property, he opened the gate remotely, letting Sean drive them around to the front door.
“OK, now give me a look.” Sean turned off the engine and held out a hand while Mason shuffled forward, peering over his shoulder.
“Is this all they sent?” Sean asked.
“Yeah.” She unclicked her seat belt, concentrating on her breathing to remain calm. The message was an idle threat. She knew that. She’d received enough of them after the sex tape to realize they held no danger. Only the limited hold she had on her emotions made it seem more sinister.
“Not much of a photographer,” Mason drawled.
Sidney swung around in her seat. “Not much of a photographer? Christ!” She pushed her door open and slid from the truck. “Someone is threatening me, and that’s all you can say? You’re such an asshole.” She slammed the doo
r and stormed around the hood of the pickup. If she didn’t get away from him, right now, she couldn’t be held accountable for her actions.
“What do you want me to do?” he yelled after her, slamming his own door. “Get on Twitter and let them know you’re with Sean, not me?”
Open mouthed, she blinked at him over the hood of the truck. “What the hell does this have to do with Sean? Someone was taking pictures of us. They went to the trouble of finding out who I am and what my private email address is. And that’s the best you can do?”
“That’s the thing,” he yelled. “I don’t know what the fuck to do around you, kitten.”
She bristled at the intentional endearment. He had a death wish. That was all there was to it. He wanted to die, and she was happy to help him accomplish his goal.
“I can’t do anything right. No matter what I say, you’re at my throat. Even when I’m trying to be nice, you’re slicing those claws at my face.” His dark gaze pinned her to the spot. “I haven’t done anything wrong. So why don’t you tell me exactly what I need to do to make you happy.”
The sound of an approaching vehicle drifted from the road, followed by a set of headlights slowly filtering past the gates.
“Rubberneckers,” Sean muttered, closing the driver side door. “Let’s go inside before we’ve got more photos to deal with.”
Sidney stared at the closed gates, trapped in another nightmare. She was exhausted, her limbs heavy, her chest hollow. “You know what,” she whispered to herself, “I’m done.”
Mason huffed in frustration and stomped up the front steps while Sean lingered by her side, smothering her with his proximity. She needed to get away from here. To go home and resign herself to living a life outside the music industry. If working with Mason was the solitary path to getting back on her feet, there was no hope.
She placed her cell in her jeans pocket and gained a modicum of strength at her resolution. “I can’t do this. I’m going home.” Her heart pounded in her throat as she stalked away from Sean, then Mason, who held open the front door.
