by Clare Cole
All those things we wanted to do but we never got to. All the things I'd wished I'd said that didn't get the chance to. All the moments we would have had, wiped out in the pull of a trigger.
The love of my life was dead. Those beautiful eyes, that cheeky smile and those awful jokes. Fiercely protective, wonderfully creative. The most beautiful man I had ever met.
"Please," I said in a whimper to the officers crowding around the doorway. "Please let me through. Please let me see him."
Rick sat against an inner wall, covered in blood.
But not his.
In one arm, he held Luke, cowering into his chest. In the other, Sean lay against him, two bullet wounds soaking his clothes. There was no life in him, just a limp body, but Rick refused to let go.
"Rick…" I tried to contain my relief, wanting to throw my arms around him and tell him how much I loved him. But now wasn't the time. His son had been saved but his friend had been killed.
He looked up at me slowly. "He saved us both. They were about to shoot Luke and him. He threw Luke to me then jumped in front of us. He saved our lives. He saved both our lives…"
As medics and police began to attend to the three of them, a quiet realisation washed over me.
Any doubts or reservations I'd had about my new life were gone. I would be with this man forever, whatever life threw at us.
Chapter Five
It was over a week before things returned to any semblance of normality. Between the media circus and the aftermath of Sean's death, our lives would never quite be the same again. Luke was obviously deeply traumatised and Julia and Michael would need support for an awful long time to come to terms with what had happened. Security at their house had been significantly upgraded and Rick had decided to take no chances, paying for a full-time set of security guards to discreetly patrol the property until further notice.
We had decided to head back to Rick's home in France for a little while. He had cancelled all further interviews and engagements and had decided to put plans for his follow-up solo album on ice. Ironically, sales of his current record had exploded again. The public loved a good hostage crisis, it seemed, and it was further proof that no publicity is ever bad publicity.
I sank into beautiful Egyptian cotton sheets as Rick climbed on top of me and kissed gently at my neck. It was the first time we had made love since that fateful morning when we had rushed through to Julia and Michael's house with soaking wet hair in busy LA traffic.
“Does this mean the stress has lifted?” I smiled. He pressed his body against me and I felt the tell-tale bulge of arousal against my pubic bone.
“What do you think?” he grinned. “Man's gotta relieve some tension...”
I ran my hands down his back, exploring the swoops and valleys of his muscles as we kissed. A warm, wet rush made me tingle between my legs and I whispered into Rick's ear.
“Take my panties off.”
He kissed my body at inch-long intervals as he made his way down to my wetness; his tongue flicking at my skin between my breasts, down my stomach and lingering above my neatly-trimmed patch of pubic hair. He pulled my underwear slowly away, exposing my sex, and I raised my legs high into the air to ease removal of my soaking thong. After tossing them aside, Rick kissed and caressed my calves and thighs before turning his attention to my glistening folds.
“This,” he murmured, “is going to be delicious.”
I caught my breath as his tongue moved slowly up my drenched opening, his lips kissing and teasing at the sensitive skin before settling on my swollen clit. I was so desperate for sex, so eager to have him inside me that I almost exploded right then and there. I gasped as he tortured me beautifully with the tip of his tongue, my stomach tightening as I screwed my eyes shut in what seemed to be the beginnings of an orgasm.
“Shit...” I gasped. “I can't take it...”
Before I had chance to think, Rick had suddenly brought his face to meet mine and, with expert precision, penetrated me. I gasped out, almost squealing, as inch after rock-hard inch filled me completely, the tip of him meeting my cervix before retracting fully then slamming into me again.
“Taste your pussy,” he moaned as we kissed. His lips were sweet with my juices, our tongues dancing between our moans.
“Make love to me,” I sighed. “I've missed you inside me so much.”
He looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let me remind you how it feels.”
His thrusts became slow but forceful, making me cry out in pleasure at each stroke. He would retract all the way back to my soaked entrance, making me believe he would fall out, before quickly driving himself fully back into me. My copious juices made his movements effortless, rushing over his shaft and making me unable to grip him inside. Instead, his sheer size and steel-like hardness ensured he was going nowhere except deep, deeper and deeper again.
My orgasm wasn't just inevitable – it was violent. For a split-second, I felt like I would pass out. Instead, I tried to cry out but no sounds came, my body tightening both inside and out; my nipples hard and sensitive against his ripped chest. My head swam and my stomach clenched as I gasped for air; Rick was pulsating between my legs and what little consciousness remained managed to register the thick, creamy liquid that flowed inside me, warming me to unspeakable temperatures before I came down from my exquisite natural high.
We both began to slow our breathing, the pounding of our hearts reverberating simultaneously through the pressing together of each other's chests. “I love you,” I gasped, barely able to speak.
“I love you too,” he smiled, stroking gently at the side of my breast as he kissed me. I instinctively snatched his hand away, giggling like a girl half my age.
“Stop it! I can't take it...I'm too sensitive.”
As Rick rolled onto his back, I started to think about Luke again. I still had that nagging feeling that he looked nothing like Julia. Maybe I was being ridiculous or just naturally suspicious after all the shit that had happened lately.
“I'm going to jump in the shower. I'll put a pot of coffee on first, though.”
“Yes please,” I replied. “Rick, there's something I've been meaning to ask you...”
“Give me two minutes.”
Before I had chance to press him further, he was striding stark-naked into the kitchen of our hotel suite. We had a few hours to kill before catching our flight to the south of France and I wondered if this was even a good time to consider bringing Luke's parenthood up. But would there ever be a good time? Not really. I didn’t want to sour this moment. As much as I wanted to press Rick on the matter, I wasn't sure I was in the mood for a miserable few hours on a plane as we both sat seething at each other.
Maybe it could wait, after all.
“Coffee's on,” Rick said matter-of-factly. I burst out laughing. “What's the matter?”
“I'm sorry, I can't believe you just walk around with your bits hanging out like that. This place has windows, you know.”
Rick looked down at his manhood, clearly perplexed. “What's up with that? You know me. I like to rock out with my cock out.”
I rolled my eyes. “Clearly.”
“You should try it some time. It's liberating. We were born like this, Amy. I don't need no stinking dressing gown to go about my business. In fact, come on. Go for a walk. Right now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I dare you,” he whispered, a devilish smile creeping across that gorgeous face of his. “Take that sexy, naked body of yours and slowly walk out of this room, into the lounge, pause in front of that huge window and then come right back here.”
“No fucking way.”
He sat in a leather chair, his legs and arms apart, oozing confidence and a lack of inhibition. “Go on. Double-dare you. You’ll make me so hard again if you do.”
I felt my heart beat a little faster, a smile reluctantly forming across your face. “I don't have your self-belief. You know how I feel about my body.
”
“Well, it's time to unfeel it.”
“That's not a real word.”
“Stop stalling, sexy. Walk.”
I took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. Get a backbone, Amy, I thought. Do something crazy. Why not?
I flashed a smile at Rick before composing myself and making my way along the cold marble floor. The light from the ten-foot tall floor-to-ceiling windows came into view and I closed my eyes briefly before entering the lounge. My stomach did cartwheels as cool air pricked at my bare skin. Soon, the skyline of Los Angeles appeared before me, tens of thousands of potential voyeurs looking at my naked body. I turned to see Rick smiling widely and rushed back, exhilarated.
“Shit! I can't believe I did that.”
“I can,” Rick said, grabbing my hand and kissing the back of it. “You're sexier than you think. You're just starting to realise it.”
I glanced across at my Giuseppe Zanotti high heels and bit my lip. “Well,” I purred, stroking his cheek, “if I'm going to put on a show...”
I slipped into them, the metallic python print perfect for capturing the light of the LA sun in front of that window.
“...I may as well do it properly.”
My mind raced as almost six inches of heels (made, thankfully, much more wearable by a two-inch-high concealed platform) clicked their way down the polished marble. The butterflies in my stomach were still there, but this time I felt like Rick wasn't daring me to do it. I was daring myself. I wanted to show off my sexy, feminine curves and voluptuous breasts; curves that had betrayed me and mocked me in the mirror for so long. Curves I had come to love and adore because the man I desired, all rippling muscle and lickable skin, was turned on by them.
I made Rick hard and that made me fearless.
I paused at the window, my nipples hard and pussy wet. I pressed my palms against the glass and looked over at Rick, his eyes all over me like a thousand hands. Slowly and deliberately, I made my way back, letting all of LA get one last look at my wavy red hair cascading down my bare back, my body completely exposed but far from vulnerable. When I reached Rick, he was fully erect again.
“Enjoy that, rockstar?”
I climbed onto him and impaled myself on nine inches of sheer pleasure, the depth of his penetration causing me to gasp as if for the first time. God, I loved him.
I didn't know it at the time, but that love was about to be tested in a way I'd never have imagined in my worst nightmares.
Chapter Six
“Still no word on Sean’s funeral,” Rick sighed. “They're not releasing the body to his family until the coroner's report is in.”
With a bandmate killed and Jake facing multiple criminal charges, it was fair to assume that Beautiful Losers was officially over for good. Rick still had questions to answer, too; he would inevitably have to testify at Jake's trial and against the two men who kidnapped Luke and shot Sean. We needed to return to some kind of normality – and fast – but things were going to be insane for a long time to come.
Rick's private jet began the descent into the Languedoc region. The peace and tranquillity of Southern France seemed like the perfect setting to breathe a little and escape the madness for a while.
“How long do you want to stay here?” I asked.
“Oh, I don't know. A week. A fortnight. A month, a year...we'll see. Let's not have a grand plan, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“I need to start figuring my life out. I'm in my thirties now. Maybe it's time I grew up a bit.”
“You'll never grow up completely,” I smiled. “I wouldn't want you to. I love my sexy little manchild.”
Rick blew me a kiss. “Fine. Maybe not completely. But I have responsibilities I've been shirking. Sean had a family, Amy. They're going to need some help. He saved Luke's life, after all – and mine.”
“True.”
“And Luke...I want a relationship with him beyond money, you know? I look into his eyes and see myself looking back but without all the bad decisions and bullshit. I don't want him to lose his way like I did. I need to help him with that.”
I leaned forward and touched Rick's knee. “You didn't turn out so bad. Stop being so hard on yourself.”
“You count drug-taking, not waking up for four days and blowing a couple of million dollars on booze and partying 'not bad', Amy?”
“That was a long time ago. Look at you now. You have a successful solo career, a beautiful son and a smoking-hot woman. What's to complain about?”
Rick smirked. “Nothing. And that's another thing – you.”
“Me?”
“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Like, ever. I want us to get married, have kids someday. Do you want that too?”
I felt my cheeks go warm. Was he kidding? Did he even have to ask? “Of course I do.”
“Maybe you'll be the one thing I finally get right, Amy. But I need to clear up all this mess with Sean and Jake first.”
The wheels hit the tarmac and we both jolted back in our seats. “Down to Earth with a bump,” I mused. “Literally.”
I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I saw the village come into view, my hand resting on Rick’s leg as he drove us to our French getaway. No limousines this time; this was going to be the beginning of a more simple us; a time to reflect and relax away from the madness of Rick’s superstar world.
“It looks even more beautiful than I remember,” I smiled as he lifted my hand to his lips. Pulling in to the courtyard, he paused for a moment, looking up at the main bedroom shutters.
“What’s wrong?”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t remember leaving those open. Do you?”
“No. We probably just forgot.”
Rick pursed his lips. “I don’t think so, Amy. I never forget to lock everywhere.”
“The wind, then?”
“They have an iron latch. The wind couldn’t shift those.”
I felt a chill run through me. “Rick, you’re scaring me. You think we’ve had a break-in? This is the middle of nowhere. Nobody even knows this place exists, right?”
He paused. “Right.”
We got out of the car and moved nervously towards the front door. Rick gently pushed it.
Locked. Thank God for that.
He laughed and turned to me. “Sorry. Just getting paranoid in my old age.”
“Well, you did almost get shot and killed recently. I’ll cut you some slack.”
We grabbed our suitcases and dropped them on the front entrance. Rick opened the door and, as I headed back to the car to get my bag, his cracked voice cut through the cool French air.
“Amy. We have a problem.”
As we both cautiously stepped inside, I felt my insides freeze. The place was trashed; papers and belongings scattered everywhere, platinum discs smashed on the ground and awards cracked in pieces on the stone floor.
I tried to speak but no words came out. “What the hell…” I mouthed.
Rick grabbed an iron poker from the fireplace and peered around walls and doorways. “Stay back,” he warned.
After several minutes of my heart beating way beyond a healthy rate, he entered the last room – the bedroom. The walls were smeared in blood-red paint, the bedsheets thrown around and cut to ribbons.
“There’s nobody here,” he murmured. “The place is clear.”
I grabbed his arm. “What the flying fuck is going on, Rick? What is this?”
“Well, we’ve clearly had an intruder. Pretty fucking angry one, too.”
“But nobody knows this place even exists! Just us.”
Rick’s head dropped.
“It’s only us, right, Rick?”
He looked to the wall behind me and his gaze suddenly froze. “Oh, shit.”
I turned and completely lost the strength in my legs, dropping to my knees at what I saw. There was a photograph of me – me! – pinned to the wall with a huge knife, the tip of its blade piercing my throat. Above it was
a single word, scrawled in red paint, the trails of each letter running down the wall like rivers of blood.
WHORE
I struggled to breathe. “Who else…knows about this place…?”
“There’s only one person.”
