by Ali Parker
“What about the rest of the band?”
“They’ll understand.”
“And if they don’t?” Ashton asked incredulously.
“Then they aren’t my fucking band anymore,” I said flatly.
Ashton paced my at-home studio. His nostrils flared, and the keys in his pocket jingled every time he stepped with his right foot. “This is madness. Fucking madness. You hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“Do you know how much fucking money we’re going to lose?”
“A lot.”
“Damn straight. A lot. Not that it makes a lick of a difference to you, you selfish prick. But me?” Ashton scoffed as he pressed his hands to his chest. “Me? I’m screwed. Your tour is a quarter of my goddamn salary, Levi. And you’re ripping it out from under me. Just like that?”
Why was this so hard for him to understand?
I sat down on my piano bench and studied Ashton. Suddenly, he didn’t seem like the same man I knew. He was different. Jaded, somehow, now that the truth of our relationship had come to light. I thought we were friends. But apparently, I was just a meal ticket.
It made sense that he never tried to stop me from going down the wrong path.
“Look, Ash, this isn’t personal, okay?”
“Not personal, my ass.”
“It’s not. You can be upset about it if you want. I understand. But it’s not going to change a damn thing. I called the venues and canceled myself. You don’t have to do any heavy lifting. And if you’re hurting for money, we can arrange something.”
Ashton sneered. “I don’t want your pity handouts.”
That worked for me. I didn’t have much interest in giving him any cash, either. But I was willing if he needed it.
Ashton turned his back to me and muttered sourly under his breath. I let him vent, and he continued pacing. When he turned back to me, his nostrils flared like a furious bull. “So when are you coming back then? What do I tell people?”
“You tell them to mind their own business.”
“Give me something here, man,” Ashton pleaded. “When are you coming back? Can’t I just call the venues back and reschedule the shows for three months down the road? That should be enough time for you. Shouldn’t it? Three months? Go on a vacation, get your head on straight, recover from this fucking whirlwind romance of yours.”
“I think you’re confused.”
Ashton arched an eyebrow. “About what?”
I got to my feet. “You’re fired, Ash.”
His mouth fell open, and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his skull. “What?”
“You’re fired.”
To say I took pleasure in being able to repeat those two little words was a gross understatement.
Ashton’s mouth worked, but no words came out.
I clarified for him. “I don’t know when I’m coming back. And it’s not fair of me to string you along. And to be honest, I don’t really want you knocking on my door, checking in on me all the time, begging me to do some shows. For now, I’m out. And you’re free. Consider yourself lucky.”
“We have a contract.”
“I’ll pay the fee.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Actually, I can,” I said. “And I will. I already have a meeting scheduled with my lawyer tomorrow afternoon. He’ll be in touch with you within the week.”
“You can’t do this to me. I’ve been there for you. I—I—” He stammered as his face turned an even deeper shade of red. “I fucking made you, you ungrateful little shit.”
“Yeah, well, I plan on remaking myself from here on out. Now get the hell out of my house, Ash. We’re through.”
Ashton glared at me. There was rage simmering behind his eyes, and I had the impression he was weighing the pros and cons of taking a swing at me.
It wouldn’t end well for him if he did.
But I let him figure it out himself, and eventually, he straightened to his full height, looked me up and down, spat at my feet, and then turned and stormed out. I followed him to the front door and watched him pull out of my driveway, burning the rubber of the tires on his Lamborghini like the incompetent egomaniac he was.
Hurting for money, my ass.
I closed and locked the front door. When I turned around, Piper was standing at the far end of the foyer. She had a pan in one hand. Steam rose up from it, and she looked just as hot as the pan in her little black and white polka dot apron.
Underneath, she wore a red summer dress that showed a lot of legs and even more cleavage.
“Is it done?” she asked.
A smile spread across my lips. “It is.”
Piper did a joyful little hop-step in place. “Amazing. Come here. Dinner is almost ready.”
She met me with a kiss in the kitchen.
Then my attention went to the meal she was preparing, which had consumed nearly every inch of counter space available.
“What on earth happened in here?” I asked.
Piper giggled and set the pan back down on the stove. “This is what cooking looks like, you Neanderthal.”
“Neanderthal, hmm?” I asked, coming up behind her to wrap my arms around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder. She smelled like coconuts. “What have you prepared for us, my beautiful little home chef?”
Piper pressed her cheek to mine. “Well, we’ll start with a fresh green salad. Then, for the main course, we have slow-cooked baby-back ribs in my father’s specialty barbeque sauce, garlic mashed potatoes, and grilled veggies.”
“Sounds amazing. You’re a goddess.”
“I know,” she said with a grin.
I chuckled and grabbed a handful of her ass. “And for dessert?”
Piper pushed back so that her ass was right up against my crotch. Then she wiggled her hips slowly. “Dessert? Well, I didn’t bake anything, if that’s what you were implying. But I had an idea or two in mind.”
I trailed my lips down the side of her neck. “Did you now?”
She swatted at my hands as I moved them up her hips to cup both of her breasts. “No dessert before dinner. Come on now.”
I chuckled. “Tease.”
She slid out from between me and the stove and took the bowl of fresh salad to the table. She’d done her own grocery shopping, steadfastly refusing to let my hired help do it for her, and when she came home, she returned with a bottle of alcohol-free champagne to celebrate my decision to take a step back from performing.
I had no idea they even made alcohol-free champagne.
“Can I do anything to help?” I offered.
Piper shook her head. “Nope. Everything is on track. We can sit and have a drink and our salad, and then dinner will be ready shortly.”
“You’re a miracle worker.”
“I try.” She smiled as I joined her at the dining-room table.
She served me my salad, and I popped the cork on the faux champagne. It popped like the real stuff and fizzed just the same when I poured it over ice into our wine glasses.
But it tasted like bubbly apple juice.
My cheeks puckered. “Holy hell, that’s sweet.”
Piper nodded as she sipped hers. “But delicious.”
“Suit yourself.” I grimaced, setting it back down.
“Add club soda to it,” Piper said.
I took her up on her offer and found the concoction much more palatable. We sipped our drinks, devoured our salads, and then filled up our plates with ribs and potatoes and vegetables. I sat down feeling like a king, looking down at the first homecooked meal I’d had since moving out of my mother’s house.
This meal was infinitely better than the dinners she used to cook.
I told Piper so.
She blushed under the flattery. “I’m glad you like it. You definitely earned it. Ashton sounded pretty pissed in your studio.”
“He was.” I popped a piece of broccoli in my mouth, chewed, and washed it down with a sip of soda water and
faux champagne. “To be honest, I kind of enjoyed it.”
Piper shook her head at me, but there was a smile playing on her pretty lips. “You’re bad, Levi Morgan.”
I grinned at her from across the table. “How bad?”
“So bad,” she practically purred.
My cock twitched, and I was instantly hungry for dessert. “I’m going to show you just how bad I am later. Better eat your veggies, babe. It’s going to be the workout of your life.”
Piper’s blush deepened.
She ate her veggies before touching her meat or potatoes.
“Good girl,” I growled.
CHAPTER 22
PIPER
There were a lot of things I could say I’d learned about Levi Morgan in the two and a half weeks I’d been with him.
For starters, he was an alcoholic.
He was a cocaine addict.
He was an incredibly talented musician who was hiding some of his best work from the outside world because he had a fear of letting people in.
He was kind.
He enjoyed provoking people, despite his inherent kindness, which seemed to balance him out a bit. I supposed it made sense, too, because at the end of the day, he was a rock star, and it would be a bit off-brand to know him as only a kind and patient man.
He was good looking. Like, make you drop your panties in public good looking.
And he fucked like a god.
As far as I was concerned, he checked off all the boxes of “eligible bachelor” and “husband material.” I doubted he thought of himself that way, but in just this short time, I’d come to think of him in that regard, despite his substance abuse problems.
They were part of what made him. Maybe if he didn’t have such a rough go of things where drugs and alcohol were concerned, he wouldn’t be as well rounded. Maybe he wouldn’t have the grit it took to be the man he was.
I didn’t know.
What I did know was sitting across the dinner table from him like this with the promise of taking things up to the bedroom afterward was excruciating.
He was dangling sex in front of me like a carrot.
Bastard, I thought as I reached for my glass of sparkling apple juice.
“What are you smiling about?” Levi ran his index finger around the rim of his glass and studied me from across the table.
I pinched my knees together and gave him an innocent shrug. “Nothing.”
“Liar. You were smiling.”
“Was I?” I swirled my sparkling apple juice around in my glass and tugged the hem of my little red dress farther down my thighs with the other hand. I felt very exposed. Levi’s eyes had been wandering over my body all night long. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It was quite the opposite. I just struggled keeping it together when he looked at me like that.
Levi’s eyes narrowed. “I think I need to take you up to my bedroom.”
There was a part of me that wanted to make him wait, that wanted to dangle the carrot in front of him like he’d done to me. But the other part, the one that won out in the end, was hungry for everything he was going to do to me in that bed of his.
We’d fucked on the roof and his piano.
Now we were upping the stakes by taking it up to his room. And if I had my way, I’d be spending every night leading up to my departure in that bed with him.
Naked.
Caught up in each other.
Hardly sleeping at all.
The dangling carrot be damned.
I wanted him between my thighs now.
Setting my glass down, I rose to my feet and eyed him across the table. “Shall we?”
Levi was on his feet in seconds. He came around to take my hand, and the two of us left our dishes and some uneaten food on the table. A problem for tomorrow morning. Then we crossed the foyer and took to the stairs.
Each step had my body whispering soft reminders to me about how good it felt when we were together like this. How hard he fucked. How gently he kissed when we were done. How he smelled. Tasted. The sound he made when he came.
My throat tightened, and I struggled to keep my breathing even as we pushed into his bedroom.
The only light was that of the setting sun streaming in through the partially closed curtains. His bed was made, the navy-blue sheets smooth and ready to be messed up. Levi guided me to the bed by my hand and then had me sit down on the edge.
I gazed up at him as he worked to undo the buttons of his shirt. He paused when he was halfway down and reached out to stroke my cheek. It was an affectionate touch, and I leaned into it, closing my eyes to feel the warmth of his palm against my skin. I inhaled deeply, and he let his hand fall.
I delighted in watching him undress. Each button that came undone exposed more taut skin pulled over firm muscle. He let the shirt fall from his shoulders, and I reached out, hooked a thumb in each of his belt loops, and pulled him toward me.
“Come here,” I whispered, beckoning him closer with a curl of my finger.
Levi bent down to meet my lips with the kiss I craved. His lips were warm and soft, and I could taste the sweetness of the sparkling apple juice on his lips. He moaned softly into our kiss, and I traced his jaw with my fingers, working my way to the back of his neck to snake my fingers up into his thick hair. The smell of him flooded my senses, grapefruit and rain. I licked at his lips, suckled at his tongue, and mourned his loss when he pulled away to undo his fly.
Levi stepped out of his jeans but left his tight black boxers on. He went to his knees and began inching my red dress up my thighs, over my hips, and up over my ribs. I lifted my arms over my head so he could pull it all the way off.
I was wearing nothing underneath.
Levi clicked his tongue. “Naughty girl.”
“I ran out of time for dessert,” I said breathlessly.
He smiled at me as he ran his hands up the inside of my thighs. “This is better.”
Levi placed a hand on my chest, right where my collarbones met, and pushed me gently down on the bed. He was handling me differently than usual, softer, sweeter, and I liked that he was keeping me on my toes. I never knew what to expect from him.
He pushed my legs apart and settled between them. I gazed up at his ceiling, his blankets soft under my back, and I closed my eyes when he ran his tongue along my pussy. His strokes were long and slow, and I was already thrumming with arousal. Any time he grazed my clit, I was a quivering mess, my fingers curling into fists in his bedding.
Levi slid his hands under my ass and held me up as he drew my clit between his lips and suckled.
The sensation was toe-curling.
I gasped, and he responded by sliding a finger inside me. I gripped the sheets above my head and pressed my shoulder blades down into the bed. Levi didn’t relent, and I rolled my hips as he slipped another finger in my pussy.
It was enough to push me over the edge.
I came and was left panting for breath on the bed as he got to his feet and leaned over me. He kissed his way up my body, working his way from my navel and up between my breasts, along my throat, and to my lips, where I drew him down on top of me and clung to him as his hand returned to the sensitive place between my legs.
I moaned into his mouth and rubbed at his cock underneath his boxers. Our need was hotter than fire as I hooked a leg over his, like I could somehow make him part of me, like I could consume him and take him with me when I left for New York at the end of the month.
Levi pulled away and rolled to the side of the bed, where he opened his nightstand drawer and pulled a condom out.
He went to his back, lifted his hips, and pulled his boxers off. Then he rolled the condom on. I loved the way the muscles and tendons in his forearms flexed as he did so, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
He glanced over at me and arched an eyebrow.
I smiled and sat up, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. Then I sat back, and he took hold of his cock. I sat on it, took him slowly, and braced myself
with my hands planted on his chest. I arched my back, lifting my ass, and lowered myself again. It took a couple strokes to warm myself up to his size, but when I was good and ready, I bounced on him in earnest, waxing his cock, riding him hard, and the response was well worth it.
He gripped my thighs and lifted his ass from the bed, meeting my bounce with his thrusts. I fought to stay in control, but it was a losing battle, and Levi didn’t seem too inclined to let me maintain my position as boss for very long.
He swung me over and pinned me beneath him on the bed. His cock was still inside me, and he rocked himself in and out of me with gentle ease. As he fucked me, he gazed into my eyes and then bowed his head to kiss me.
His tongue explored my mouth. I worked my fingers through his hair, and he cupped my cheek with one hand, resting his thumb on my jaw to turn my head to the side so he could press his lips along my neck toward my ear. He gripped my right hip with his other hand, turning me on a slight angle so he could push himself deeper inside me.
It was glorious.
And so was the closeness and the intimacy he was sharing with me. I hadn’t expected this. Not by a long shot.
I expected him to bend me over and slap my ass and maybe choke me a little.
But this was real. Vulnerable.
Loving.
I clung tighter to him. Levi pressed his forehead to mine, and his whole body shook as he fought to control himself. I ran my hands over his shoulders and tried to imprint the image of him in my memory for safekeeping.
Strained jaw. Closed eyes. Dark lashes. Creased brow. Steady breath. Messy hair from me raking my fingers through it.
His eyes fluttered open. I kissed him deeply, breathing in the smell of him, relishing in the closeness. “Levi,” I whispered.
He closed his eyes again.
So did I.
“Come for me,” I breathed.
A groan escaped him. His shoulders trembled beneath my touch, and I pressed my nails into his skin, leaving little half-moon crescents pressed into his shoulders as he came. I held him close and wrapped my legs around his hips, and he held on to me with equal desperation.
