Epilogue
Three months later
“Ipromise I will read your palm the next time I see you. Your dad and I will be there the day after tomorrow,” Jo said, Annie’s smiling face filling the screen of her phone.
“I’ve been counting down on my calendar.
See!” Annie gleefully pointed to the paper taped to the wall above her bed, the boxes neatly crossed off in a rainbow of colors.
She’d lost her front teeth since Jo had last seen her and the little girl spoke with a slight whistle on her s’s.
“I have so many ideas for what we can do. We can paint our nails and there’s a new ice cream place down the street—oh!
And Lainey McKenna said the playground by her house is haunted. We have to go.”
Jo laughed, holding the phone steady as she weaved through the Pennsylvania production warehouse where Midnight Storm was wrapping up rehearsals for the new tour.
She turned a corner, nearly colliding with a PA.
With an apologetic smile and wave, she turned back to the conversation with Annie.
“We’ll have a whole week together to do all those things and more, kid. I know your dad has some ideas too.”
“Daddy said you have big news to tell me. Can you give me a hint?”
Jo ran her thumb over the band of the engagement ring on her finger out of view from the phone’s camera. She still wasn’t used to wearing it yet. “No hints.”
“Is it a baby? Am I getting a little brother?”
Jo nearly choked as Chelsea’s chiding “Annie!” sounded from off screen.
Annie turned towards her mother. “What? Lainey McKenna’s getting a little brother.”
“It’s not a competition.” Chelsea appeared on the screen with an apologetic wave. “Hey, Jo. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Jo said. “How’s the new house?”
“Great,” Chelsea said, beaming. “Miles is a real estate wizard. He has more vision that I’ll ever have.”
“I have a treehouse in the backyard,” Annie said, bouncing on her bed on her knees. “We can have a tea party in it when you come to visit. And a séance!”
“That sounds perfect,” Jo said.
“Thank you for the housewarming gift,” Chelsea said, a faint blush rising in her cheeks.
“What housewarming gift?” Annie asked.
“It’s a grown-up thing,” Jo said. Annie didn’t need to know about the black and white boudoir photographs Jo had arranged for Kyla to take of Chelsea to celebrate she and Miles moving in together.
“Is that Princess Annie?” Nico appeared at the door to the rehearsal room, his hair held back with a sweatband, his t-shirt soaked through and sticking to his chest.
Annie wrinkled her nose. “You’re all sweaty.”
He chuckled. “Rehearsing is hard work.”
“You’re out of shape,” Beckett grunted as he walked past, lifting the hem of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing the colorful tattoos stretching across his toned chest. “Hi, Annie.”
He waved over Jo’s shoulder and continued on his way.
At the end of the hall he paused, his hand lingering on the doorknob of room Kat had commandeered as her office.
He dropped his forehead to the door, stayed there for a few beats as his shoulders rose and fell with his labored breathing.
Mumbling to himself, he took a step back, raking his hand through his hair, turned resolutely in the other direction, and stalked away, scowling.
Interesting.
Jo turned her attention back to the phone call. Whatever was going on with Beckett and Kat would have to wait.
“You’re going to love this show, kid. There are projections and all kinds of costumes,” Jo said.
“We’ll be there when the tour comes to Boston,” Chelsea promised. “But right now, we have to get going or we’ll miss the movie.”
They said their goodbyes and Jo nudged Nico with her elbow. “Take a selfie for me before you hop in the shower. The fans will eat it up.”
Nico rolled his eyes, but his grin gave him away. “How many shirtless selfies do the fans need?”
“At least one more,” she said as she walked backwards down the hall. “And get the other guys to do it too.”
“No way is Beckett sending you a thirst trap,” Nico called after her.
She flipped open her content calendar, plugging in the shirtless selfies on the grid for the following week when the band would be taking a well-deserved week off before launching into the new tour.
She’d need to stockpile content to keep engagement high while they were away, but thankfully all the guys had gotten better about sending her video clips and photos she could use when she wasn’t with them—well, all the guys except Beckett.
But his reluctance to participate in social media only seemed to egg the fans on who raved about how mysterious the tattooed, broody musician was.
A sudden buzzing between her legs caught her off guard and Jo stumbled, pressing her hand against the wall as she swallowed her startled gasp.
A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed she was alone—thank God.
This time her reaction had not been subtle.
The buzzing intensified, pulsated three times, then stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
She groaned, heat mingling with disappointment and the delicious anticipation of what was to come.
The buzzing began again, this time so intense she clapped a hand over her mouth to hide the cry that tore from her throat.
She leaned against the wall, pressing her thighs together—mistake.
The pressure only increased the sensation thrumming against her clit.
She pressed her head back against the wall and fought for control as her orgasm barreled down on her. If he didn’t stop this soon—
Again, the toy turned off.
Damn him.
Jo released a breathy laugh, her thwarted pleasure dissolving into something slick and hot, an ache she knew would be glorious when at last Derek allowed her to come.
If only she could find him.
He hadn’t been in the rehearsal room with the band and he hadn’t been in the office he had set up at the far end of the studio space. That only left one place.
She practically sprinted down the hall towards the green room, her heels clacking against the cement floor and echoing in the deserted halls.
The green room was dark when she pushed open the door, fading golden sunlight streaming between the blinds in orange streaks across the plush furniture as she scanned the room.
Three sharp pulses of the toy against her clit and her knees buckled. How high was the setting on this thing?
“Derek,” she moaned, steadying herself against the craft service table.
“Is something the matter, little menace?” His voice cut through the dark, all gravel and dark, liquid heat raising goosebumps along the back of her neck.
Another three pulses, the last one longer and harder than the others. And there—right there—she could almost taste it—
The buzzing stopped.
“You’ve been teasing me for hours,” she whined.
He chuckled darkly. “And?”
She glanced around the room, still unable to locate him. “Make me come, dammit.”
He tsked. “Now is that any way to ask for what you want?”
“Please make me come,” she ground out between gritted teeth.
The toy roared to life, and she pressed a hand between her legs, driving it harder into her clit. “Oh God,” she moaned, her words fading into a broken whimper as the toy turned off again.
Derek stepped out of the shadows at the edge of the room.
Even in the dim light, she could see the thick outline of his erection behind the placket of his dress pants.
In one hand, he held his phone, thumb poised over the screen, the app that controlled the toy she wore no doubt waiting for his next command.
Keeping his eyes on her, he took a seat in the oversized leather chair in the corner, legs sprawling like some kind of bored king.
With his free hand, he palmed his erection, and Jo’s mouth watered.
“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.
She loved this part. The games they played together. And now it was her turn to play.
She took her time stepping out of her heels and setting them aside, lining them up perfectly straight beneath the craft services table.
Holding his gaze, she slowly slid the straps of her sundress down over her shoulders, revealing the sheer lace of her bra that did nothing to conceal her nipples, hard points pressed against the lace.
She peeled the dress down, shimmying it over her hips and letting it pool at her feet.
He hummed, a low sound of approval, his eyes moving over her bra and panty set like a caress from across the room.
He crooked a finger, beckoning her closer, and she obliged, swinging her hips as she approached until she stood between his thighs.
With his free hand, he stroked her hip, twisting the lace band of her panties around his index finger so that the fabric shifted, pressing the toy more firmly against her.
“Do you like your new toy?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Christ, you’re beautiful.” He rocketed forward, affixing his mouth to her nipple through the lace of her bra, teasing her with his tongue and teeth. The scratch of the lace against her sensitive flesh heightened every sensation.
“Please make me come,” she begged, clutching his head to her breast.
“Is my little menace frustrated?” He trailed his lips to her other breast as he flicked his thumb over his phone screen, the toy purring to life, but barely.
Delicious and not nearly enough. “Does this help?” The bulbous end of the toy curled inside her also began vibrating.
She shivered at the new sensation, but it still wasn’t enough.
“Do you think you’ve earned your orgasm yet? ”
“Please,” she whispered.
“I love when you ask nicely.” He nipped at the underside of her breast, then sat back in the chair. “Take me out, baby.”