Boxed Set: Traitorous Heart Volumes 1-6 (The Traitorous Heart Series) (29 page)

“Fuck, that’s it, Dandelion.” He released me and I began moving up and down his shaft. “I’m going to come.” When his warmth exploded inside my mouth, I swallowed, milking him.

Some dripped out the sides but I didn’t care.

When he was done he pulled me off my knees, wiped my mouth with his shirt, and then kissed me hard. “Another shot of tequila?”

“Yes,” I said, slurring.

He poured us another shot. After I drank it I took a lemon and stuck it in my mouth. He did the same.

“I want to do things to you,” Cage said, rubbing my nipples with his thumbs.

I moaned, letting the lemon fall out of my mouth. “I want you to do things.”

He wheeled the cart over to the counter, picked up my robe and laid it across it, then took me by the waist and lifted me onto the counter. “Lie on your stomach. Spread your legs.”

I did what he asked, turning my head so I could watch him. He bent over and kissed my wet pussy. “Fuck, you’re so ready.” He slid two fingers inside me, moving in and out. I moved my body with him, so needy. He pulled out, then slid something else inside me. It was cool. “What is that?”

“Ice. How does it feel?” He put another in, and then another. And another.

“It feels good. Cold, but not it a bad way.”

“Hold it in,” he said.

I did. I could feel it melting. He pulled me to the edge and then spread my ass cheeks. He ran a piece of ice down the crack. It was a combination of cold and so fucking hot. I gasped. Then he put something inside me. I’m not sure if it was a finger or a piece of ice, but I didn’t fucking care. I’d been on the verge of orgasm before he even started touching me. As soon as he began massaging my clit, my orgasm crested and rushed over me. The melted water started coming out. He rolled me over and helped me get into a sitting position.

Then slid me onto his cock. “Fuck. Holy fuck.” He rammed into my pussy.

I lay back, resting on my elbows. He rubbed my clit with his thumb. Another orgasm began to build.

“Cage. You feel so good.”

He stuck one of his fingers in my mouth. I could taste myself on him. I sucked. His eyes kept roaming from my face to my pussy. “I love watching my cock go in and out of you.” He stuck another finger in my mouth, then pulled them both out and put the hand around my neck, holding it there.

“Mother fuck, I’m going to come,” Cage said, just as my orgasm reached its peak and crashed around me.

When it was over I lay back, spent, but feeling amazing. Cage pulled me into his arms. “I’m going to clean you up.” He carried me, my legs wrapped around his hips, into the bathroom.

“That was incredible,” I said.

“You better fucking believe it.” He smiled, bent, and kissed the skin between my breasts.

When we got to the bathroom he gently let me down. “Be right back.”

I heard him pushing the silver cart down the hall and into the bedroom. “Want another?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Tonight was going to be a long, amazing night.

CHAPTER 4

Griffin

I hel
d
the door to Warren Records open for Brian, Eddie, Hammond, and Steve.

“Thanks, man,” Steve said, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Hell yeah.” I went in after him. The guy looked a lot like Aaron Paul from Breaking Bad: super skinny, big eyes, but he was an awesome fucking lead guitarist. The band wouldn’t be as cohesive without him.

The rest of the guys hung off to the right. Eddie sat on a camel colored couch. The building was an eclectic combination of contemporary and futuristic with a leather couch thrown in. 

I walked over to the desk, which reminded me of a large rectangular disco ball. Small squares of mirrored glass lined the whole front of the building. The top was cool black. 

“Hi,” the blonde with a high ponytail said sweetly. “Can I help you?”

“We have an appointment to see Mr. Warren.”

She snapped a piece of gum I hadn’t realized she was chewing until that moment. I had noticed her abundance of cleavage; it was nearly popping out of her hot pink top. “Crushed Velvet?” she asked, glancing up.

“That’s us.”

“Awesome. Mr. Warren is running behind by about an hour, but he asked me to put you in a conference room with some hors d’oeuvres and cocktails.”

I nodded. Waiting wasn’t anything new. I’d been waiting all my life for this moment. Another hour was nothing.  “Sure. Sounds good. Thank you.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” She winked. Stood. “Follow me.” She waved us over. Her fingernails were extra long and painted hot pink with glitter tips. We followed her. I let the guys take the lead. All of us watched her walk. Her hips swung softly, making her black mini skirt swish.

She opened a door and held it open. The guys commented as they walked by.

“Have a seat. Turn on some music or the TV. I’ll bring in the food. Any preference on alcohol?”

“Citron.”

“Vodka.”

“Champagne,” Steve said.

“Pansy ass,” Eddie hollered, smacking him upside the head.

He chuckled. They’d been friends and band mates for too long to get pissed at stupid shit. “Whatever man. I like me some champagne and I’ll get the whole bottle for myself.”

“Yeah and the fucking headache that goes with it,” Hammond added.

“Exactly,” he said.

The girl smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

“What’s your name, babe?” Brian asked.

“Anita.” She walked out, letting the door close behind her.

“Dibs,” Eddie called.

“Fuck that, bro,” Hammond chimed in.

I plugged my phone into the stereo. The demo we’d recently recorded was on iTunes. I turned it on.

“Hells yeah,” Brian said, drumming his fingers on the table.

Anita came back in with a tray filled with fruit, cheese, and crackers along with the alcohol we’d requested. The guys dove in. I hung back.

“Is there any way you could do me a favor?”

CHAPTER 5

Griffin

She gav
e
me a huge smile and ran a hot pink and glittered fingernail down my chest. “Sure, what’d you have in mind?”

“Would you mind finding a florist in New York that delivers, and pick out a flower arrangement?”

Anita’s face fell. “You have a girlfriend?”

I stepped in a little closer. I knew I was treading on dangerous territory. If she knew how much I cared about Katie she wouldn’t help. “No, she’s just someone whose feelings I hurt and I want to make it up to her.”

“Oh.” She put her hands on my chest. “Sure. I can do that. Was there anything else you needed?”

I leaned into her hands. “Not right now. Thank you.”

She turned and walked to the door. I watched in amusement. Once the door closed I faced the guys.

“Did you not hear me call dibs?” Eddie asked, chucking a grape at me.

“Of course. I just needed a favor. She’s all yours.” I poured myself a drink.

Mr. Warren walked in. “Boys,” he said, clapping his hands together.

I swallowed. It hadn’t been an hour, but I was cool with that.
This is it
, I thought.

“Have a seat. Let’s talk.” He set a black leather briefcase on the table.

We gathered around the conference table. Mr. Warren sat at the head and I sat to his right. The man had salt and pepper hair, was extremely tan, and wore thick black glasses. They were big and reminded me of something Elton John might wear. He seemed well kept, a little fleshy around the middle. He wore a pink button down shirt with a deep gray suit and a light gray tie. What surprised me the most was he was his height. In pictures he’d seemed taller, larger than life really. But he was maybe five foot four on a windy day.

“So I’ve listened to your demo several times. I’ve had several different focus groups listen as well. I’ve also been out to see your show at a club called The Attic.”

That surprised me.

“Really good. Really special.” He pointed at me. “There’s something we in LA like to call the It Factor and you, my friend, have that in droves.” He clasped his hands together. “The ladies want you and the men want to be you. And probably want you too, in some cases.” He chuckled. The guys joined in.

I kept my focus on him, trying to gauge his intentions.

“You’re intense. I like that about you,” Mr. Warren said, ignoring the others. “Women eat that up.” He went over to the alcohol and poured himself vodka on the rocks and came back and sat. I’d like to get you,” he pointed at the others, “and your band in the studio right away. I’m thinking we should release the first single the middle of December and then do an album release along with a tour beginning June of next year. How’s that sound?”

I took a deep breath. It sounded good. I could feel the barely reined in excitement of the band, but I was the leader for a reason. “What kind of numbers are we talking?”

He laughed, wagging his finger at me. “There it is again. The intensity.” He clicked his briefcase open and pulled out the contract and a pen. Within the contract pages lived the truth. Mr. Warren could talk until he was blue in the face, but until it was in writing and signed by all parties, his words meant nothing. “I believe you’ll find everything is to your liking.” He slid it over to me.

I glanced at it and then back up at him. “It all sounds great,” I began, answering his earlier question. “I’d like to read this over before we sign.”

“I would expect nothing less.” He closed his briefcase and pushed it out of the way. “I think you’ll find everything is in order, and if there’s something you want to talk about, please feel free to call or text.” He pulled a card from his suit pocket and handed it to me, then stood. “I’m really looking forward to working with you and your band.” He stuck out his hand. I stood and shook it.

“Thank you very much for the opportunity, Mr. Warren.” If my father had taught me nothing else, it was the power of showing those who deserved it respect.

“Of course. And thank you.” He went to the door. “Feel free to stay and enjoy the snacks and drinks. There’s no rush, but I have another meeting.” He pushed the door open and stopped. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

As soon as the door shut behind him, I heard the guys breathing again. “Dude, why didn’t you sign it on the spot?” Hammond asked.

I glanced over. “We’re grown men, not boys with our whole lives ahead of us. If this contract doesn’t offer serious numbers then I’m out. I made my father a promise.” I walked over and poured myself another drink.

“Your dad is an asshole,” Brian uttered.

“Agreed, but it is what it is.” I slammed down the drink and then moved back over to the table. “Should we look it over now? Or do you want to take it back to the hotel?”

“I say we look it over now,” Brian said, coming to sit with me.  He was probably the only one who understood what it was like to come from a wealthy family. Yes, I never had to go without food. I always had a nice car and clothes and whatever else I wanted. That was the up side. The down side was the expectations. Since the parents had money they wanted to keep it in the family. That meant the kids had to continue the legacy, as my dad put it. We weren’t allowed to choose our paths. They were already chosen, and those who fought it were either disowned or ended up suicidal. I’d seen both happen with several of my friends since college graduation.

It was a serious case of catch-22, or “the grass is always greener” mentality. The rich wanted freedom and the poor wanted money.

And maybe I was just being arrogant. Maybe I should just tell my father to fuck off and take Mr. Warren’s deal, whatever it was, if it would make the guys happy. I certainly considered them family over my father. Plus, I had the money, thanks to my mom. I didn’t need my father’s. But, I couldn’t let it go. I’d promised and I felt like I owed him that, if for no other reason than to rub his nose in my success when Crushed Velvet took off.  I sighed internally and pulled the paper close. One by one the guys sat around the table. There was no more partying or joking. At least they understood that whatever we decided, our lives would change forever.

CHAPTER 6

Griffin

“I have
that,” she paused and glanced at the guys before turning to face me and continuing, “thing you asked me to do ready.”

“Awesome.” I walked to the door. “Be right back. Bri, if you want to read over it, then talk to the guys.”

“Sure thing, bro.” He pulled it in front of him.

“Right this way.”

I followed Anita down a different hall toward what I guessed was the back of the building. “Just right in here.” She opened the door. I walked in. There was a laptop sitting on a cheap desk. The room looked like a small kitchen with a stove, a refrigerator, and microwave. Anita climbed up on the table and spread her legs. “I’m not wearing any panties and I’m so creamy for you.” She grabbed her breasts and pulled them out of the hot pink top.