His voice, so rich and warm, sent thrills through her body. ‘Hey yourself, I’m great, just building myself up for my last day tomorrow.’
He chuckled. ‘You’ll do great…it must feel strange, though.’
‘It does, kind of like my last link to my family.’
‘You really on your own?’
‘Really. I’ve got Kym and Pete of course, they’re like family, and the guys at the shop.’ She told him about her showroom’s de facto residents.
‘They sound like good guys.’
She smiled down the phone, ‘The best. Hey, where are you? I never thought to ask.’
Tom laughed softly. ‘L.A.’
She felt a pang of regret at him being so far away. ‘Hotshot,’ she teased, wanting to hear his laugh again, so deep, so melodic.
‘It’s just good for business. I kind of loathe having to be here. I’m a Seattle native, did you know that?’
She was surprised. ‘I had no idea.’
‘And now I have a great excuse to come back.’
‘You’re moving back?’
‘Yep. Seems only sensible to have a base there if we’re going to be together so much. Are you looking forward to Monday?’
God, yes. Bay pushed the thought of him in Seattle, so close, so near all the time to the back of her head. ‘I am. Nervous too.’
‘Don’t be. You were meant to do this, I just know it.’
Later, in bed, she’d Googled him. Tomas Meir, thirty-nine, Harvard Law graduate. Set up his own Entertainment Law label straight out of college. Briefly married in his late twenties. Known for being ruthless in the courtroom but a stand-up guy outside. Bay squinted at the pictures of him, so handsome, so elegant. He radiated power, presence; he could easily have passed for a Roman Empire with those sculpted features. Yum. She sighed. He seemed…too perfect. In her experience, that meant trouble.
She closed her laptop and lay back on the bed. Great, she told herself, in five minutes you met, fell in love and broken up with him. What is wrong with you?
She turned on her side and stared at the photo of Ravi on the nightstand. Her brother too had been gregarious, friendly, successful…seemingly had it all. Right up to the moment he’d deliberately driven his car, at top speed, into a wall. Bay winced; eighteen months later, the pain was still red raw. Only she knew the truth of Ravi’s death, his suicide, of the one line note he’d left for his sister. I can’t do it anymore, I’m sorry, I love you.
Bay shut off the lamp and turned away, as always when she thought about her brother, a searing pain would shoot through her stomach, leaving her breathless and weak. Love is pain. That was the thought that kept pounding at her until finally, exhausted, she fell asleep.
Now, as she was surrounded by her friends, Bay poured them all some of the champagne that Pete had brought with him – courtesy of Hank, Pete’s bar-owner husband. It was almost five p.m. when the door opened and Bay was astonished to see Tomas walk in, grinning, out of his suit in jeans and t-shirt. She could help the smile that spread across her face – then she noticed the t-shirt he was wearing.
‘Tomas Meir…is that a vintage Tambe Bike Shop t-shirt?’ She was amazed. Her uncle brought out the tees in the early 80’s – briefly – and now they were like gold dust. She didn’t want to think about how much Tom had paid for it but she was touched by the gesture. And boy, did he make it look good. The light blue made the green of his eyes even more intense, contrasted well with his black hair.
She introduced Tom to everyone. Pat, one of her oldest customers, eyed the tall man.
‘You gonna make our Bay a star then?’
Tomas grinned good-naturedly. ‘Bay’s already a star, I’m just going to help make her a successful one – if that’s what you want?’ He smiled down at Bay, put a hand on her back and she was lost.
***
Tom stayed until the last person left the shop then helped Bay clear up. Just after midnight, she locked the door for the last time and for a moment, she thought she might give in to the tears that threatened. That part of her life was finally over.
‘You okay?’ His voice was soft, sympathetic. She nodded, tried to smile.
‘Come on, let me buy you a drink, and we’ll say goodbye properly.’ She let him steer her into his Mercedes, which was very nice, despite her teasing of him the night they met. He drove them into the quiet city and found a little bar, tucked away Downtown, that was still serving beer. They found a little couch in the back. The bar was almost empty, just low jazz playing in the background.
Tom and Bay fell into easy conversation. After a while, Tom, draining the last of his beer, turned to her. ‘So what the hell is Kym doing with that sleazeball?’
Bay grinned, relaxing. Tom was so easy to talk to. ‘You’ve got me, I’ve never understood the attraction. Maybe it’s co-dependency, I don’t know, but they’ve been off and on for years. Mostly on, which is annoying.’
Tom’s eyes were on her mouth in a way that made her feel so sexy, so wanton, she wanted to straddle him right then and there. She felt her face burn as slowly he raised his eyes to meet hers.
‘And what about you?’ His voice was deep, sensual murmur now, his desire burning in his eyes, unmistakable. She could barely breathe.
‘I don’t…get too involved.’ Dammit, woman!
Tom didn’t seem fazed at all. ‘Me either. But sometimes…it’s just about the here and now. The moment.’
She couldn’t look away from his eyes. ‘I agree,’ she said softly. Tom smiled and leaned over, brushing his lips across hers.
‘Bay?’ A whisper, a promise.
‘Yes?’ Breathless.
‘I would like to take you back to my hotel with me tonight. Forget we’re going to be working together. Forget everything else. Tonight is just about you and me. What do you say?’
Her entire body was on fire, aching for his touch, her breasts swelling with her arousal. Tom kissed her again, harder this time, his fingers tangling in her hair, his tongue exploring her mouth, his lips cool and sweet against hers.
‘Take me home,’ Bay said, sinking into him, into the embrace, ‘Take me home with you…’
As the elevator reached the penthouse, Tom swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Laying her down on the bed, his fingers moved to the buttons on her dress and slowly he undid them, kissing every part of her skin exposed. Bay was trembling, vibrating with desire, the feel of his cool lips on her skin and when he pulled down the lacy cup of her bra and took her nipple into his mouth, she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her. She felt a laugh rumble through his big body, his free hand slipping under her dress to caress her, his long fingers dipping into her panties and stroking her already quivering sex.
Impatient, she tugged at his t-shirt and he released her long enough to pull it over his head. His chest, broad, rock hard, a faint smattering of dark hair made her already overheated body want desperately to feel his skin against hers and she struggled out of her dress, wrapping her legs around his denim-clad legs. Tom kissed a trail up from her belly, between her breasts then to her mouth as his lips covered hers hungrily.
‘God, Bay…’ She could feel the hot length of his erection through his jeans and her hands went to his fly, wanting to feel it, touch it, taste it. Tom buried his face in her neck as he kicked off his jeans and underwear, tugged her panties down. His cock nudged against her but he just kept stroking her, maneuvering down the bed. He pushed her legs further apart and slid his tongue along her labia, sending almost unbearable pleasure through her body as she writhed, his fingers tangled in his hair. His tongue lashed around her clit, teasing, tormenting then as she gasped and came for the first but definitely not last time, he plunged his tongue deep inside her and she cried his name out over and over.
He continued to plunder her body until she was in such a delirium that when, finally, he drove his diamond-hard cock deep inside her, she screamed out and came again.
Tom grinning triumphantly,
pinned her hands to the bed, his eyes on hers, watching her pant and sweat beneath him. God, she was incredible, the way her curves undulated beneath him as they fucked, her thighs tightening around him, urging him deeper. His strokes became brutal as he neared his peak and when, finally, with a hot rush, he came, his cum pumping deep inside her.
They collapsed together, laughing and gasping for air. After a moment, Tom stroked the damp hair away from her forehead, watched the lovely scarlet flush in cheeks fade, and for once, he was lost for words. Bay smiled up at him, running a finger down his cheek.
‘Wow,’ she murmured and that was all they needed to say. Tom sought her lips again.
‘Bay…such a beautiful name…’
She smiled. ‘It’s short for, are you ready for this? Baijayanthi.’
‘That’s even more beautiful.’
She snorted. ‘If you say so. Can you imagine what roll call was like at school?’
Tom smiled. ‘If it makes you feel better, they always spelled my name with an ‘h’.’
She giggled. ‘Yup, that’s the same.’
He wrapped his arms around her and for a long time, they just enjoyed the silence, comfortable with each other.
‘Tom,’ Bay’s voice was suddenly uncertain, ‘I am concerned.’
‘About?’
She pulled away from so she could look into his eyes. ‘We said, tonight, nothing to do with anything else. But when we start to work together, the band and everything, I think…we should…stay professional.’
Tom nodded, understanding. ‘I get it.’
‘I just don’t want Kym and Pete to think I’m getting preferential treatment because we’ve…you know.’
He grinned at her shyness. ‘Done each other,’ and he wiggled his eyebrows making her laugh. ‘Puritan.’ He pulled her on top of him. ‘I understand. We won’t let us get in the way of anything, I promise. Total professionalism. But I just have to say…we’re not starting work until Monday.’
Bay grinned. ‘That’s right.’ She moved down his body, stroked the length of him, already stiffening again. ‘We have all weekend.’
Tom sucked in a breath as she took him into her mouth, the soft, wet feel of her on his cock, licking, teasing, tracing the lines of the veins, engorging with blood. She brought him to the point of orgasm before he tugged her up and impaled her on his cock, entreating her to ride him harder, harder, harder….
***
Monday morning and the Seattle sky was doing its best to drown out any happiness Bay might have felt – gray, sullen and dumping sheet after sheet of rain down on the city. They were on their way to the studio, having arranged to meet Kym and Pete at ten a.m.
She had spent a blissful, sensual weekend with the tall man at her side and now she couldn’t shake the feeling that today marked not only the beginning of her new career but the end of their affair. That thought made her sad and yet, weirdly, free. The sex had been incredible – Tom was an imaginative and selfless lover and she’d climbed all over that glorious body of his, completely uninhibited. It was the stuff in between that surprised her; his easy manner, his straightforward way of talking, his friendliness – she was unused to lovers being friends as well (she didn’t want to think about how fucked up that was) – but Tom made her feel so comfortable. The only thing that bothered her was his great wealth and his obvious enjoyment of it. She’d been brought up frugally and hadn’t felt that she’d missed anything but in Tom’s huge hotel room, with people at his beck and call, and literally anything she wanted at her fingertips, she’d felt out of her depth. Overwhelmed.
She felt him take her hand now as he drove them through the city. She smiled over at him.
‘So we better get our stories straight. Your car wouldn’t start and you were on the phone to me so I said I’d swing by and pick you up.’
‘Got it. Nice and simple. But why were we on the phone?’
‘Dirty talk.’
She laughed. ‘Darn it, that’s ruined that plan.’
‘How about you were getting cold feet and called me to cancel? They’d believe that.’ He grinned to let her know he was joking but she sighed.
‘Yep, probably.’
They pulled up to the recording studio and, after checking no-one was watching, Tom leaned over and kissed her. ‘Don’t worry about it so much, it’ll all be fine.’
It was. As soon as they were inside the recording studio, Tom switched into uber-professional mode, giving them all a tour of the studio.
‘Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains – they all recorded here. The crème de la crème of Seattle’s musical history. I think the 9th & Pine could join their ranks.’
‘You know we’re just a covers band, right?’ Bay said in a faint voice – the mention of Pearl Jam, her musical heroes, had sent her into panic mode. Kym grinned and Pete rolled his eyes.
‘Breathe, Bay, breathe,’ the big man said and Tom grinned down at her – with a little too much familiarity, she thought, risking a glance at her band mates. They hadn’t noticed anything, she saw, too awed by the studio’s history. Tom nodded.
‘Come this way,’ he led them into the tracking room where a black Yamaha piano stood. He urged Bay to sit and play a few notes, before leaning in and saying in a loud whisper, ‘That’s where Pearl Jam recorded Black.’
Bay shot up from the piano. ‘Holy fuckballs.’ The rest of them burst out laughing at the shock on her face. They were still laughing when the door opened and Stu walked in, already annoyed by the look on his face. His temper wasn’t improved by seeing them enjoying each other’s company without him.
‘Why wasn’t I called about this meeting? Kym?’
Kym looked uncomfortable. ‘Because we’re just looking around the studio, Stu, is all. I didn’t think you’d be interested.’
‘Nope,’ said Bay, ‘this part has nothing to do with money, Stu, just creativity. Why would you be interested?’
Stu gave her a withering look then turned to Tom. ‘Contracts,’ he barked at him, ‘We need to sign before any work is undertaken.’
Tom sighed. ‘Contracts will be here after lunch. My colleague, Roman is bringing them, we’ll meet him at the Quartet office in the city. Satisfied? Good. Now, let’s go see the mixing room.’
***
Roman Ford felt every one of his forty-one years after dealing with Stu Lawson. The band, he liked enormously, every one of them committed and bright. He waited now, while Tom saw them out of the building, promising to call later. He watched the look that passed between his best friend and Bay Tambe. Uh-oh.
As soon as Tom came back into the office and dropped into the seat opposite him, Roman narrowed his eyes at him. ‘Please tell me you’re not screwing the delectable Miss Tambe? Can I tell you what a mistake that would be?’
Tom shrugged, unrepentant. ‘We’ll keep it professional at work.’ Roman saw how relaxed, how happy, his friend was and couldn’t bring himself to remonstrate with him. Tom deserved happiness. He just sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes.
‘God, well, don’t let that screw this up. I like them. Time will tell whether they have the chops to be more than a great covers band but in that area, you know better than me. You going to get Dash involved?’
‘Not yet, they need time to write their own songs, get comfortable in that zone, actually lay some tracks down. You know Dash,’ he grinned when he thought of their much younger partner, ‘he’ll go all out on marketing without a solid product behind them and they’ll lose confidence.’
Roman nodded. ‘I know. He has gotten better,’ he said, feeling he ought to defend his young friend.’
‘Yes,’ Tom replied, straight-faced, ‘Nowadays he waits until they’ve stepped into a recording studio.’
They both laughed. Their younger colleague had launched himself into the record company at full speed, desperate to prove to his beloved older brother’s best friends that he was worthy of them.
Tom was studying him. ‘You okay?’ His voice had
the edge that they all had since Sam, that horror of the possibility of losing another one of their number. Roman half-smiled.
‘Yup, just tired. Kinda wishing my brother would step up and put some more time into the company but then, I’m not a ‘world-class surgeon.’ His words.’
Tom grinned. Roman’s twin, Otis could be unbearably sniffy – and was the one who had needed to be convinced even to invest in the company – but he had a good heart. It did irk Roman, Tom knew, that he, Tom, was more like a brother than his own was sometimes. Otis led a team of specialist surgeons down in Portland and was rarely if ever free to discuss the music business anymore.
‘Remember when Otis was our mad pianist?’ Tom said, picturing their college band, stuck in a grimy basement in one of their rented apartments with second-hand instruments.
‘Remember when you were our mad drummer?’ Roman shot back and laughed. ‘God, was that a million years ago?’
‘You had a ‘Wake me up before you go-go’ t-shirt.’
‘That is a damned lie, Meir. You had a tragic afro.’
‘True story but at least I didn’t have frosted tips.’
The banter carried on for a little while then Tom reluctantly got up. ‘Lawson wants to meet with me without the band. He’s a pain in my ass already.’
Roman rolled his eyes. ‘Give him the minimum to make him feel important. Then ditch him. Isn’t that what we usually do with pain in the ass managers?’
Tom gave him a fist bump. ‘Word, brother.’
‘God, you’re thirty-nine, Tomas.’
‘Word?’
‘Word. Oh hey,’ Tom stopped at the door as Roman called out. ‘Careful with that singer. She has heartbreak written all over her.’
***
Tom was still thinking about what Roman said when he drove back to his hotel – alone. He and Bay had said – weekends only, no work talk, no strings. At least for now. He had the feeling Bay was holding back on something – when he’d said ‘no strings’, she’d looked relieved. That had stung a little but, he reasoned, something told him that her reticence wasn’t to do with him. Their connection was something they’d both felt: electric, all-consuming.
Hot Nights in Sturgis The Complete Series: A Billionaire, Bad Boy, Motorcycle, BDSM, Romance (Billionaire Romance Novels) Page 125
