Be The One (Crave #2) Page 12

  I hold his gaze. “Are you going to boss me into going with you every time you have to go away?”

  He dips his mouth to my neck and softly nips at my skin. “That might be something I should boss you around about.”

  I squeeze him and then drop to my knees to take him into my mouth. After I treat him to my mouth and tongue for a moment, I let him go and take him back into my hand. Looking up at him, I suggest, “That might be something I would let you boss me around on.”

  His hands grab me under my arms and pull me up. He lifts me and turns around to deposit me on the vanity. After I’ve wrapped my legs around him, he kisses me hard and growls, “I did consider bossing you into sucking my dick for longer but it turns out I want inside of your pussy more than your mouth.”

  “Turns out I want that, too. You gonna take care of that or are you all talk and no action?”

  His eyes flash heat at me and he hisses. Running his finger over my lips, he says, “I’ve fucking missed this dirty mouth. I’m not sure what I like more – the words coming out of it or the way it fits perfectly around my cock.”

  I dig my fingernails into his back and pull him closer. “I tell you what, you hurry up and get that cock of yours inside me and I’ll treat you to both words and tongue all day long.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, woman, I’m going to bang you so fucking hard you might not be able to speak for the rest of the day.” He positions his cock at my entrance and I try to push myself even further against him so I can force it in, but he’s teasing me and pulls away at the last moment.

  “I’m game if you are,” I practically beg him. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Mr. Rockstar.”

  His hungry eyes are all over me and it’s like a switch is flipped and he can’t hold back any longer. He thrusts in and my eyes roll back in my head. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck me hard. Hard is what I just got. And I’m in fucking heaven.

  I hold on for dear life while he thrusts in and out. I’m not usually a huge fan of sex on the vanity but today I’m a convert. In fact, he’s fucking me so well, I may beg for vanity sex every damn time from now on.

  We don’t last long and a few minutes later, he thrusts hard one last time and comes. I follow closely and almost go limp from the pleasure. I’ve never been able to get off as easily as I can with Jett, and it’s never been this good for me, either. I let the waves of pleasure flow through me and slowly come to. When I open my eyes, he’s watching me in a way that says he loved that as much as I did.

  “You okay?” he asks, his voice husky.

  “Yeah.” I smile at him as he pulls out and helps me down. “Maybe we should spend a day apart every now and then. That was some good sex.”

  Shaking his head at me, he mutters, “I’m not fucking keen. I’ll be sure to remember to do that more often to keep you happy.” He takes the few steps to the shower and turns it back on.

  I follow him into the shower. “I’m thinking that’d be a good way to start every day.”

  “Now that I’d agree to,” he says with a grin and grabs the soap to clean me.

  A minute later, I know this is going to be a long shower.

  My man’s happy to see me.

  * * *

  We emerge from the hotel room just after three that afternoon and head down to the bar for a drink and something to eat. When we arrive there, we run into Tom who seems taken aback to see me.

  “I didn’t realise you were coming over?” he says, his tone a little cool.

  Jett squeezes my hand and says, “Neither did I.”

  I’m sensing some animosity from him and decide to clear this up now because the last thing I want is to cause a problem with Jett’s manager. “You don’t like that I’m here?”

  Tom’s brows rise. “I have my misgivings but possibly at this point in the shitfight we’re in, it’s better to have you here than not.”

  I’m impressed with his honesty; I prefer people to be straight up with me. “Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Fair enough,” he says and shifts his gaze to Jett. “I’ve lined up an interview and photo session tomorrow for nine in the morning. You good with that?”

  Jett nods and Tom leaves us alone. I watch him go and then ask, “Is he like that with everyone or is it just me he doesn’t like?” Up until this point, I haven’t had a lot to do with Tom and he’s always been pleasant enough to me so this is a whole other side to him.

  “He’s pretty stressed at the moment with everything that’s going on, and, to be honest, he’s the most upset with me so by default that’s you, too. He’ll get over it.”

  “Okay, I can deal with that.”

  We find a table and order some burgers and drinks, and while we wait for them to come, Jett asks, “How long are you able to stay?”

  “I told you, for however long you need me.”

  “And if we’re still here in say, three weeks, are you good with that?”

  I lean across the table and brush my lips across his. “Yes, I’m good with that.”

  A smile spreads across his face. “I don’t think we’ll be here for three weeks, but you never know.”

  “For the record, I’m glad you punched that reporter.”

  His smile turns into a laugh. “I am, too, but I don’t think anyone else is.”

  “Have you heard whether he’s going to press charges?” That thought has been kicking around in the back of my mind and I hate to voice it but I need to know.

  “No, he’s not. Tom contacted him, and we’ve made a cash settlement with him.”

  “Oh . . . that’s good, I guess.”

  “You sound surprised?”

  “I just forget stuff like that happens. It’s not the world I live in anymore.”

  “How involved in Lennon’s career were you?”

  “Not really at all. When he was home, we were just like any couple hanging out and stuff. And when he was away, we kept in touch every day but he never really shared a lot about the tour or anything.” He looks surprised and I elaborate, “You know his band is nowhere near as successful as yours so that meant we were able to go places and do things without him being recognised very much. And back then I was working a lot, so there were often times when he was off the road and I was away.”

  He still seems surprised. “What about dealing with the fans he did have? Were you involved in much of that? And how did you cope with the groupies?”

  “Are you trying to work out how I’m going to cope with your groupies, Mr. Vaughn?”

  Chuckling, he shakes his head. “No, but that does concern me.”

  “In whether or not I’m going to become one of those jealous girlfriends?” Up until now, I’ve managed to pretty much stay off the press’s radar. A few photos of us have surfaced but the major magazines haven’t really picked them up yet.

  His expression turns serious. “Yeah, I guess I do worry about that. I’ve seen friends in the business whose relationships break up over that kind of jealousy and I don’t want that to happen to us.”

  I consider what he’s said and then answer him as honestly as I can. “Groupies don’t faze me too much; I know they are always going to be there, but I also believe you when you say you’re mine so unless that changes, I don’t see us having a problem.”

  “Thank fuck,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

  The moment is intense; it’s like he needed to hear that, and it seems like I’ve helped lift a weight from his shoulders.

  His gaze finally shifts when the waitress brings our drinks. She’s a different waitress and clearly recognises Jett because she gets all flustered and spills his drink all over him and the table. When she scurries off to get a cloth to clean up the mess, he grins at me and murmurs, “I bet she’s one of the million women around the world who would kill to have me losing my shit over a guy talking to her.”

  I roll my eyes but have to laugh because I can’t hide it; his cockiness not only amuses me, it also turns me
way the hell on.

  15

  Jett

  It’s been just over twenty-four hours since Presley arrived, and after a day off with her yesterday and a night out with everyone last night, I’m ready to face this interview today. Tom’s assured us it will be a friendly interview but I’m not holding my breath. We were all over the news again yesterday due to the woman who cried rape, crying again to the media. Everyone wants a piece of you in this industry, so I’m sure the interview will hold many opportunities for us to get screwed over.

  “You good?” Presley asks as we walk into the hotel room for the interview.

  My arm is around her shoulders and I stop her and put both arms around her. Kissing her and winking, I say, “Yeah, I’m good. I promise I’ll behave.”

  “I’m always worried when you say you’ll behave; it kind of implies there was a possibility you weren’t going to.”

  God, she makes me feel good. Laughing, I tease her, “Well, with you in the room, anything’s a possibility.”

  “Wait, you want me in here while you do the interview? I thought I’d wait outside.”

  “Hell no, I want you in here where I can see you. You calm me and I need to be calmed at the moment.”

  She places her palm against my cheek and gives me one of her soft looks that tells me how much she cares for me; it’s the kind of look I would pay good money to get from her. “I’m not going anywhere then,” she says softly.

  “Jett!”

  I turn to see Tom motioning for me to join him. “Go, I’ll be over in the corner watching,” Presley says, and I watch her go before heading over to where Tom is.

  He’s not happy. “The photographer bailed on us,” he informs me in a pissed off tone. “Apparently, she decided she isn’t a huge fan of yours and didn’t want anything to do with this interview.”

  Fuck, no wonder he’s so pissed off. I rub the back of my neck as I feel the beginning of a headache coming on. “So, no one else can do it?”

  “I’m trying to find someone but it’s such late notice I don’t think we’re going to have any luck.”

  West and Van join us, and when they hear the news, Van yells out a rather loud, “Fuck!” and grabs the attention of pretty much everyone in the room, including Presley who gives me a questioning look.

  I jog over to her and give her the news. “The photographer bailed on us because she doesn’t like me.”

  “That’s so unprofessional! Is Tom finding someone else?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s such late notice.”

  She stands up and looks around the room for a moment before looking back at me. “I’ll do it.”

  I frown. “Huh?”

  Her voice is more forceful and I detect a tone of annoyance in it. “I said, I’ll do it. I’ll photograph you guys. I can’t actually believe the photographer cancelled on you.”

  “Have you got your equipment with you?”

  “I’ve got a camera on me. It might not be what I’d prefer to use, but it will do the job,” she says as she begins to walk towards Tom.

  It hadn’t occurred to me to ask her to do it, but I’m on board with the idea.

  “I’ll photograph the band,” Presley says to Tom who stares at her in surprise but quickly catches on and grins.

  “Perfect, not sure why I didn’t fucking think of it,” he says, the grin growing larger on his face.

  She turns to me and lets me know she’ll be back once she has her camera. Once she’s gone, I look at the guys and they all grin at me. “Fuck the people who try to keep us down,” West declares while raising his middle finger.

  I laugh. This whole fucking situation sucks, but we’ll ride out the storm together.

  * * *

  Presley does a kick-ass job of photographing us. I’m so fucking turned on watching her work and take charge of us that I’m hoping like hell she eventually decides to take us on as a client and come on tour with us.

  “That was brilliant,” Tom praises her when she’s finished. “I think you possibly just got some of the best shots of these guys that have ever been taken. And that last shot of you and Jett together – babe, that’s the winner of the day.”

  I’m hesitant to let them use that shot but she doesn’t seem to mind. The interviewer picked up on our relationship and focused on that a little during the interview. I was a little cagey but when it was suggested a photo of the two of us would be good, Presley ran with it and took one. I turn to her now and ask, “Are you sure you want them to use that shot?”

  “If you’re okay with them knowing about us, I’m okay with it.” She comes over to me and says softly, “Besides, I think it’d be good to give your fans something else to think about besides everything else they’ve been focusing on. Don’t you?”

  Tom slaps me on the back. “She’s right, Jett, this could really help take the heat off the band. I vote you run with it.”

  “Well, if you’re okay with it, I want to shout it from the fucking rooftops that you’re mine, so let’s do this,” I say to Presley, and fucking love the way she looks at me when I say it.

  “Speaking of shouting it from the rooftops, how do you two feel about attending the music awards together tonight?” Tom asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes. The band is performing at the awards tonight and I can see Tom calculating the possible positive effect having Presley there might have.

  My main goal here is to make sure Presley is happy with whatever we decide so I say to her, “It’s up to you, sweetheart. If you’re not comfortable coming, then I’ll go on my own.”

  Tom pushes the point. “This could be really good for the band. I think everyone is going to love Presley and you together.”

  I groan because I hate it when Tom gets pushy like this, but Presley places her hand on my arm and nods her head. “I agree with Tom, it’ll be good for the band. I’m in.”

  “Fuck yeah!” West shouts, obviously ecstatic with this news.

  I look at Presley. “You sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

  “Yes.”

  She’s saying yes, but I’m not sure she has any idea what this is going to mean.

  I just hope to God this doesn’t backfire and take our relationship a step backwards.

  16

  Presley

  “This red dress was made for your curves,” Jett says as his gaze skims my body before coming back to my face. “And I want your hair up like this more often, so I can have access to your neck,” he adds as he presses kisses along my collarbone and then up my neck.

  I picked the dress up this afternoon and he’s right; it hugs my curves in all the right places. He was also ecstatic when he realised I’d chosen a floor length dress, and muttered something about keeping my legs hidden from assholes who can’t keep their eyes to themselves. The only part of the dress he wasn’t sold on was the plunging neckline but I told him to suck it up.

  Eyeing his jeans, black t-shirt and black leather jacket, I say, “You scrub up pretty good yourself, baby, even if you didn’t wear the suit I picked out for you.”

  He grins. “I promise I’ll wear it to the next event we attend together.”

  I return his grin. “You’re on, Mr. Rockstar. I’m holding you to that promise.”

  “Are you sure about this?” he asks as the limo pulls up at the red carpet. He’s holding my hand and his grip is so strong my hand is going numb.

  Shaking free of his hold, I say quite firmly, “Yes, I’m sure about this.”

  He blows out a breath and moves to get out of the limo. I know he has misgivings about this but I don’t. Once he’s out, he turns and offers me his hand and helps me out. I can hear the noise of the crowd and it’s a little overwhelming but I push on. I’m doing this for Jett; I’d do anything to help him and the band.

  He pulls me into his arms once I’m out of the limo, and says, “Okay, hold on and don’t let go of me, yeah?”

  I nod and he leads us toward the carpet where his fans are going wild, and th
e photographers are snapping away. Flashes of light almost blind me and I nearly stumble. Good God, the noise is like nothing I’ve ever heard before.

  “Jett! Who’s your date?”

  “Is the rest of the band coming?”

  “Over here! I need a photo of this gorgeous lady you’re with.”

  The photographers keep yelling out to Jett and I’m blown away by the ease with which he handles them. He leads me down the carpet, stopping for each reporter who wants a chat, and posing for as many photos as he can, all the while keeping hold of me and whispering funny things in my ear every now and then that keep me calm. I would never be able to handle something like this and I have a newfound respect for celebrities who do this and make it look so easy.

  Tom and I were right; bringing me tonight has ensured most of the reporters only ask about us. A handful briefly try to bring up everything else that’s going on with the band, but Jett manages to steer them off that topic fairly quickly.

  The final reporter gets the best scoop of the night. She shoves her microphone in his face and says, “I’ve never known you to date; is this a real relationship or one staged to take the spotlight off your antics over the past couple of days?”

  I want to tell her off, but Jett flashes her one of his grins that’s bound to charm and pulls out his phone. He opens up his photo album and placing it in front of the reporter, he begins scrolling through the hundreds of photos he’s taken of us. While he’s scrolling, he says, “Does Presley look like the kind of woman any man would not want to date? I was the lucky fucker who ran into her at a bar when she’d had a shitty day and just needed someone to take her mind off it. And then I was the lucky fucker who convinced her to give me a shot.” He turns to look at me for a moment, his expression full of hope. “And I pray to God I’ll be the lucky fucker who can convince her to spend the rest of her life with me.”

  Butterflies flutter through my tummy. It’s way too early in our relationship to be talking forever and yet, I can picture it.