Dirty Stepbrother - A Firefighter Romance (The Maxwell Family)
Page 66
I was also finally listening to my agent, and my wife, and thinking about doing the talk show circuit. It was like another other type of artistry; marketing was more than half the battle. I’d learned that a little late in life, but I’d learned. I didn’t care for the idea, mostly because I knew they’d want to know about my fall from fame and what happened and why. I’d never really talked about that with anyone except Elly and my therapist. I just kept telling myself that I could do it. I’d come a long way and I had a lot to be proud of.
The music writing had come along great over the years, too. The happier my life was, the easier the words came…even when they were painful words from the past. That’s what got me through it, knowing it was in my past and not a part of my present or future. I actually hoped that singing about it would help someone else get through it. I hadn’t done much in my life to help other people so far, and I guess if that’s all I did, at least it was something. Love songs come a lot easier, too, since I met Elly. I used to think it was all bullshit and it made for a crappy song. Now, I knew it’s possible, so when I write about it, there’s a touch of realism to it. That’s what Elly and I were singing, one of the love songs I’d written.
While we waited for everyone else to get ready, I remembered back to the first time I walked into that place. I’d come back to L.A. with Elly by my side after we walked out on the Fresh Voices tour. The following week, we met with Manny Diaz in his office on the thirtieth floor of a glass building in Burbank. The recording studio is on the first floor, and after we signed the contracts, he walked us down to have a look around. I was mesmerized. I’d been in a recording studio before, of course, but I’d been a kid…and a punk…and usually stoned out of my mind. It was like seeing it all for the first time or with a new pair of eyes. That day, when Manny opened the door that led from the reception to the control room, I could almost smell the music. There were pictures hung all around the room of artists that had recorded here before. They were artists that I idolized; some that I modeled my music after. There was one there of me amongst them. It was one of my proudest moments.
Along the front part of the room that faced the glass, there were boards and knobs and dials and a computer screen bigger than any television I’d ever seen. Through another door was the machine room where the big machines did their business. They made a lot of noise so they sat at the back in a sound proof room, and everything that happened between the control room and the vocal room happened through our headsets.
Through the expansive glass that surrounded the control room, I could see the recording room and the vocal room. It was the ultimate goal of a serious musician to make it there. I’d had that chance and blown it once, and at the moment Manny walked us in there, I promised myself it would never happen again. I was going to make the best of every chance I got. I had to, for my sake and the sake of the woman who had saved me.
Five years later Elly was my wife and we were recording a duet together for the album. She still didn’t get what an amazing voice she has. It was hard for me to fathom. I’ve always known that I could sing…always. When I was four years old, I knew I was going to be a star. Some people might call that arrogance, but I just call it being aware of your God-given talent and knowing how to use it to its fullest potential. As a kid, I had no idea how to do that, and I had no one with the patience and ability to teach me. Elly changed all that, and for that alone, I will be eternally grateful.
“You two ready?” Rick, the sound engineer asked us.
“Ready!” We said at once. The song was a love song, like I said. I’d written it about us and we’d only really sang it through together a few times, so I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. Elly was nervous, but she was less nervous than she was the night I convinced her to do the duet with me onstage in front of a live audience of millions of people. I smiled at her again as I thought about how she was willing to give up her job to do that for me. Sometimes I can’t believe I was selfish enough to ask her to. I guess I’m glad, I was because it all turned out so well…but however you look at it, I was a selfish ass.
I snapped out of my memories and into the mic I told the engineer to cue the band. A few seconds later the music started, and when it was time, Elly and I started singing. Every minor missed note either on our part or the part of the band or the back-up artists was caught and we’d have to start over. By the time it was perfect enough for the engineer—and Manny, who had shown up half way through—it was late afternoon and everyone was exhausted. Elly and I went out into the control room to say hello to Manny when we finished, and by that time my agent and self-proclaimed P.R. specialist, Jerry, had come in as well. He was incredible at what he did, but he was also an incredible pain in my ass.
“Tristan! Elly! That was fabulous! It was fabulous!” Jerry always used words like ‘fabulous’ and ‘top-notch’ and ‘magnificent.’ No one knew how he really felt about anything. He was so full of shit that he smelled like it sometimes, but he knew everyone in town and he could get your name out there in lights faster than anyone else, so Elly was constantly telling me to grin and bear his bullshit. I did my best.
“Thank you, Jerry,” my sweet, polite wife said.
He kissed her on each cheek and said, “I’m not even kidding Elly, you’re magnificent!”
Elly smiled and looked over at me. All it took her these days was one look at my face to know what I was thinking, and right now she knew I was thinking that as fabulous as I knew she was, this guy was still full of shit.
He turned to me then and said, “Tristan, baby!” He had his arms open, and after five years of me dodging his touch, he seemed to still believe I was going to hug him. The thought of touching a man didn’t appeal to me in the least, but the thought of touching Jerry’s soft squishy body actually repulsed me a little. I put my hand out instead and he giggled like a little girl before shaking it. Then he said, “How about The Dialogue next Monday morning?”
“What’s that?” I asked him.
“Are you kidding? Five of the hottest women in show business sit around a table and interview celebrities every morning. It’s a wildly popular show. How could you not know what it is?”
I shrugged, “I don’t watch much television.”
“Well, you should because anyone who is anyone will be talking about you in the next few months. This is going to be your most successful album yet and we’re going to make sure that everyone knows who you are, even if they never turn on the radio.”
I looked at Manny and he said, “Jerry’s the expert, Tristan. I’d listen to him if I were you.” I looked at Elly and she smiled and nodded too.
I looked back at Jerry then and said, “Alright, I’ll be there.”
“One more thing,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“You have to watch the potty mouth. No four letter words.”
“You think I can’t talk like a professional, motherfucker?” I grinned and he shook his head. His jowls wiggled back and forth as he did.
“Be good!” he said.
With another grin I said, “I always am; ask my wife.” I got elbowed in the ribs by Elly for that.
Chapter Eleven
Elly
Tristan had been trying to get me to record with him for years. Today was the first time I finally gave in. I knew I could sing, but I wasn’t convinced I could sing well enough for an album that was surely going to sell millions of copies. I finally agreed to do it in the middle of a passionate romp with my husband. He’d convinced me in ways that a lady shouldn’t ever tell. So there I was in the recording studio on the side of the glass that’s usually reserved for rock stars. It was a long day, but when they played it back to us, I had to admit that Jerry was right: it was fabulous.
I was kind of anxious to get home, but Tristan seemed to be hanging back for some reason. When everyone was gone except for the sound engineer, I saw Tristan take him aside and whisper in his ear. The guy smiled and looked at me and I knew in an instant what m
y horny husband was planning.
After Rick left I said, “What was that about?” Tristan walked over to the door Rick had just gone out of and flipped the lock. He grinned at me with that same gorgeous, irresistible grin he’d been using on me for the past five years to get what he wanted. It worked as well as it always did. Within minutes I was in his arms with his sexy lips on mine and his hands working on unsnapping, unhooking, and unbuttoning everything I was wearing.
I didn’t complain, especially when he broke the kiss and looked up at me and said, “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” I told him. I’d loved him since I was twelve years old. I slid my body around behind him and grabbed hold of the bottom of his t-shirt. I slid the shirt up, running my palms along the sides of his sexy hard body as I did. He held up his arms and allowed me to pull it off of him and discard it onto the pile of my own clothes. I continued to stand behind him, letting my hands travel across his hard shoulders and down across his smooth, sexy belly. They found their way to the top of his pants and the button and zipper were easily released. I slid the pants and boxers down with one motion, and as I moved back up to let my hands travel across the prize, he stepped out of them. Still standing behind him with his bare ass pressed against my body, I took his hard cock into one hand and began stroking it. I gently slid the other hand between his thighs and found his balls. He shivered and made a sound through his gritted teeth as I began to massage them. I kissed the back of his neck and shoulders as I stroked and groped him. I was savoring the beauty of my husband and I loved it.
Tristan let me play for a little while. I loved feeling his muscles tense and quiver under my touch. When he finally couldn’t take any more, he took a step forward and spun around to face me. He grinned and then dipped his head down so that he could press his lips against my neck. He ran them softly along the curve of it, all the way down to my collarbone and back up again. Then he did it again, only that time using his tongue. The third pass was lips, tongue and a sharp, erotic bite to the sensitive, supple skin just below my ear. I could feel it all the way through my chest and down into my belly. It exploded in wet sensations that dripped warm liquid along my inner thighs. Then he pressed his lips to my ear and the vibrations of it alone sent me into an almost convulsive state as he said, “You’re so fucking sexy, baby.”
I put my head back and he knew what I wanted. He locked his lips back against mine for a passionate kiss as our hands continued to search each other’s bodies like they were unfamiliar territory. As we kissed, he walked me backwards over to the brown, suede sofa in the control room. I briefly considered the stains we might leave on it, but by the time he laid me back on it and I looked up at the body I loved so much, I’d forgotten all about the cleanliness of the couch.
He sat down next to me and as he kissed me, he ran his hands across my chest, teasing my hard nipples with the palms of his hands and stopping to cup a breast before running them over my belly. Then he’d run them back up and use his thumb and forefinger to pinch and pull and circle my engorged nipples. While he did that, he draped one leg across my lap and used his hard calf to part my legs open. He kept at my nipples with one hand and he let the other hand travel south and begin stroking the inner parts of my already wet thighs. I groaned and pulled my legs further apart to allow him full access to my hot, wet pussy.
I moaned out his name as his fingers gently touched my lips, teasing me at first and then allowing one to slip briefly between them and stroke my clit. I gasped and he smiled at me. “You like that, baby?”
“I love that,” I told him. He leaned forward and kissed me, this time slipping a finger all the way inside while stroking my swollen clit with his thumb. He drew circles around it while I wiggled and squirmed and writhed all over the soft suede. As I got wetter and more excited, he slid another finger inside. He began working them in and out as I moved my hips up and down. I was groaning loudly now, thankful for the soundproof room. I was so wet it felt like I’d came three times already, and I hadn’t even had one orgasm yet. I was ready; I always was when Tristan touched me. He fucked me hard and fast with his fingers, slipping in a third after a while. I was crying out, yelling out his name and he knew I was on the brink. That was when he slipped his fingers out.
I think I growled. “Why?” I pleaded.
He grinned again. “I don’t want you to come yet. I want to make it last. I want you to be desperate for it.”
I knew he was right, I’d enjoy it more if it took longer. My body was shaking, though, and my pussy wasn’t convinced that waiting was the right thing to do. Trying to offer her a little distraction, I slid myself out from underneath him and slid down his body to the floor. I let my lips and tongue glide across his hot skin, causing him to shiver and groan. I let my tongue graze his twitching cock and found his balls with it instead. I sucked them into my mouth, first one at a time, and then both. It was his turn to cry out and I felt the muscles in his thighs grow as hard as steel.
I slid my mouth back up to the head of his cock. I flicked out my tongue and licked off the glistening pearl of pre-cum there before covering the head with my mouth. I licked around it, savoring it until all at once I needed more. I opened my mouth and my throat and took in his entire length. Once it hit the back of my throat I began to suck hard. I had his balls in my hand, rolling them between my fingers as I sucked him and ran my tongue along his length. He was groaning and moaning loudly as his hips bucked up and down, rhythmically, fucking my mouth. I did that until I felt him tense and shake and then I pulled the same stunt on him that he did on me; I pulled my hand and my mouth away at the same time and looked up at him with a grin.
“Fuck, baby!” He said, pulling my body up to cover his. We kissed again, passionately, as our hands touched and fondled every curve of the other’s body. He lifted me up by my hips so that I was straddling him and I rested my hands on the back of the couch behind him. He was so hard that his cock was actually standing straight up, waiting for me to slide my pussy down onto it. I looked into his eyes as I lowered myself down onto it. I felt the head slip in and then the beginning of his shaft. Then, with one big push he was deep inside of me and I pushed my pelvis down against his and let the muscles in my pussy contract against his pulsating cock. I started slowly pulling myself up until only his head was left inside of me and then I would drop back down. He moved his hips up and down as I did, with his hands on my hips guiding me in rhythm with him. His tongue traced my nipples and his lips and teeth grazed gently, causing me to shiver. We started slow, but as we both got more excited we began moving faster and faster with our skin slapping together with each deep thrust. I was on the verge of orgasm when I felt his body tensing again. I slid my hand down my abdomen and found my clit. I began rubbing it furiously as he fucked me, turning us both on that much more. Within seconds my whole body shivered and shook as I came in a rush of warm fluid that covered both of our thighs. As soon as I did, I heard him let out a loud groan and I felt his rush of cum, filling me up.
I let my body fall against his then, nothing between us but a sheet of glistening sweat. I could feel his heart beating against the rise and fall of his chest and I thought that my own heart might explode right out of mine.
He had his arms across my back and he pulled me in tighter, kissing the side of my face and running his hand down my back. We lay like that until we were both breathing normally again, and then I felt his hand come up and brush the hair that was glued with sweat to the side of my face back behind my ear. He looked at me seriously then, not smile, no grin, no mockery in his eyes and he said, “Thank you.”
I laughed and said, “Well, since it was your idea, I should thank you.”
“Not for the sex, though that was as fucking amazing as usual. But for everything else…our lives.”
I smiled and touched his face then, “You’re welcome,” I said. He pulled me in for another kiss and then rolled me so that my back was against the couch. I wasn’t surprised to see that he was alr
eady hard again; the man was a machine sometimes. He kneeled across my legs and slipped his cock back into me. He slid slowly in and out of me then as we held onto each other tightly. The first time was sex, but this was making love. This was what my amazingly sexy, talented husband did for me. He slid his hand down across my breasts and nipples while he slid in and out of me…ending with his fingers at the top of my mound. He found my clit and began to stroke it again as he slid his magnificent cock in and out of me, slowly, deeply, excruciatingly patient. Moans were escaping from my lips again and he groaned when I tightened the muscles that were already wrapped tightly around his shaft. Then I pulled one of my legs out and raised it up so that it was resting across his shoulder. He could push in deeper now and I reached around and put my hands on the cheeks of his ass, urging him to go faster and deeper.
“Oh, baby, that feels so fucking good,” I told him as I felt the head of his cock hit the bottom of my pussy. He was still rubbing my clit and he began rubbing it faster as he pushed into me deeper. “Oh god, Tristan…I’m coming again, baby!”
“Me, too,” he forced out, sounding like he barely had enough breath left inside of him to speak. He moved his fingers and began to thrust into me wildly until we tensed, grunted and came in another wild rush of hot fluid. When we’d both stopped shaking, I slid my leg back down and we held each other again, shivering and gasping for air. I fucking loved that man!
Chapter Twelve
Tristan
When Elly and I at last finished shaking and were able to breathe, she said, “I’m starving.”