Blue Desire
Page 15
“Have faith in your woman, Amy.”
“It’s like a whole new world for her, and I’m not part of it.”
“Yes, you are. You’re right here.”
“I wouldn’t take it away from her for the world. But it’s hard. They really do sound awesome, don’t they? So much better than a week ago.”
He smiled. It was true, in a way. They were much more polished now and would probably get better yet. The performances at the Caravan Club had been shockingly good, but they were raw, and Kat and Cindy needed to get better. They had. He was, he supposed, one of a handful of people privileged to see the entire evolution.
Cindy pulled away, looked straight at their table, and blew a kiss he knew wasn’t intended for him. Amy’s eyes lit up. Kat kept focused on the audience, and even as Cindy missed a note, she didn’t turn around. They were both very talented, but Kat was clearly more experienced. Maybe she knew too that Brett wouldn’t be sitting there stressing. Other than Cindy’s missed note, they’d sounded spot-on all evening. The crowd, most of which was on its feet dancing, was entranced by the beat. It was a well-dressed bunch, and supposedly it was popular with up-and-coming actors and other celebrities. Brett had spotted a few familiar faces, although he couldn’t place any of them.
Kat and Cindy launched into their last song, “Colliding at 55,” another Kradle song. Brett thought Kat’s newer stuff was better, although this one had been twisted to the point it was hard to recognize from the original, and it sounded damn good. Every time she played a Kradle song, he felt a particular satisfaction that came as much from his small role in being her lawyer. He supposed it made him a part of it in a way Amy wasn’t, although it was Amy’s house they practiced in. Hopefully she took pride in that. He didn’t need to be a part, although he was happy to do what he could. He simply enjoyed seeing Kat do what she did so well.
The extended dance mix of “Colliding” lasted eight minutes; the original was barely over two, he thought, but he’d have to check the CD to be sure. The crowd clamored for an encore, and Kat and Cindy obliged. “C’mon,” Brett said to Amy. “This is our time to head backstage before it gets like a zoo.” He hated to miss even a moment of the show, but it was easier this way, and as much as he told himself he was helping Amy see Cindy faster, he was looking forward to having Kat all to himself as well.
He had something important to tell her, after all.
Amy got up and followed him. People tended to move out of his way when he wanted them to.
THE STAGE HAD been hot, especially when they focused the lights on her toward the end of the show, and Kat was dripping with sweat. If her makeup hadn’t run, she was going to stick with that brand forever. She didn’t dare touch her face for fear it would smear.
“Were we okay?” asked Cindy.
“We were awesome,” Kat said.
“We were, weren’t we? Although I missed—”
“Don’t even think about it.” She gently pushed Cindy ahead of her down the narrow hallway that led back from the stage. Out there, Martine’s was glitzy and hip. Backstage, it was dark and claustrophobic and smelled of cigarettes. Then again, she wasn’t sure she smelled so good either. Brett would be back there. She didn’t want him to see her like this, but she knew she’d have no chance for a shower.
Well, he’s seen me first thing in the morning, and he’s seen me right after sex. I guess this is just one more thing. He was right there too, standing behind Amy. There might have been room for two Amys side by side there, but there definitely wasn’t room for more than one Brett. The low ceiling made him look even taller than usual.
Amy grabbed Cindy and pulled her away. Cindy glanced over her shoulder apologetically, but if she expected a response, Kat didn’t give it, because when Amy moved aside, she exposed a bouquet of a half dozen red roses in Brett’s hand. He handed them to her. Well, at least that way he wouldn’t be pressed against her sweaty body. Maybe it was better than a hug, although she wanted to be in his arms so badly. She took them, holding them just below where the stems poked out from the yellow paper.
“Careful. They have thorns.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”
He smiled. “I have my softer moments. You were fantastic, by the way.”
She looked down. God, around him it seemed sometimes all she thought of was sex. “Not very many soft moments,” she said. “Not now.”
He seized the wrist of the hand holding the roses, moved it behind her, and pulled her close. She tried to pull away but couldn’t.
“I’m all icky,” she said.
“You’re all wet.” He licked the side of her neck, and she moaned. “You taste wonderful.” He turned her so that she was up against the wall, and she felt the prick of a thorn against her back in the narrow space where the corset laces were. She didn’t think it punctured the skin. She didn’t care much, either. She wanted his thick cock inside her, now. They weren’t exactly in the most private of places, though, even if it was deserted at the moment. Amy had pulled Cindy into the one room at their disposal, so that was out. Not that she had any reason to think the two of them were up to anything. Although she didn’t have any reason to think they weren’t.
“Mine.”
“Yours,” she agreed. He’d let go of her wrist, but she didn’t move it. It was happening again, that heady feeling that she’d do anything for him and let him do anything to her. Martine herself was likely to pop through at any moment. They had crew there to take down some of the equipment, and they could come into the corridor from the other side. But if he pulled up her skirt and fucked her, she still wouldn’t stop him.
“I love you,” he said.
“I know.” She had known for a while, even if he didn’t say it. It was still nice to hear the words. “I love you too.”
He kissed her, hard, pressing her back. “Good. I’m lusting after you too. I’d fuck you right here if it weren’t for the fact someone might come.”
The thorns poked harder, but she didn’t move the bouquet. “I’d let you. Regardless.”
“Good thing the one of us who’s in charge has slightly more control than that, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.” She knew the answer was yes, but it didn’t seem so certain right now. Yet it was lovely to be able to feel such a sense of total abandonment and know that he’d keep her safe. She didn’t need a stagehand posting on the Internet about what a slut she was. She felt a scratch on her back, a stinging line.
“You’re crushing your bouquet.”
“I like feeling you press me against the thorns.”
He chuckled. “But it’s bad for the flowers.” He guided her hand out, and she looked at them. Two of them had broken, but the other four were fine. Still, he was right.
“When I want you to have just thorns, love, I’ll just get you the stems. This time, I want you to have the whole package. I want to keep you for a long, long time. And I hope that you want more than a week too.”
She put her arms around him and held him tight. If he didn’t care about how sweaty she was, then she didn’t either, although she was probably soaking his shirt. “I love you too. Yes, please. More.” She closed her eyes and felt his strength around her, making her feel loved, protected, and safe.
Loose Id Titles by Sindra van Yssel
A Haunted Romance
Blue Desire
Dom and Domme
In the Middle
Purple Passion
Red Lust
Secretary for Two
The Barbarian and the Witch
* * * *
The BONDAGE RANCH Series
Roped In
Pushing Limits
Moving On
His Little Tart
Sindra van Yssel
I live in Northern Virginia with my partner, my teenage son, and a lot of fish. For many years I was active in our local BDSM community. Yes, people really do the things people do in my books!
By day I work
in a public library, where I get to meet all kinds of readers. I've a soft spot for happy endings and characters who learn more about themselves, but I enjoy torturing my characters along the way, too. Hopefully you'll enjoy watching them squirm as much as I do.
Check out http://www.sindravanyssel.com to find out more about me.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Loose Id Titles by Sindra van Yssel
Sindra van Yssel