Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
The audience was on its feet as Cash pumped out hit after hit. Towards the end of the set he ripped off his shirt baring his finely muscled torso, and leapt in the air, demonstrating his extraordinary athletic ability with his electrifying martial arts moves. The screaming, singing crowd fell into a united chorus of gasps and ooohs and aaahs, before exploding into thunderous applause.
Standing in the wings Marilyn was transfixed. She had left her seat early, not wanting to be elbowed by the crowd or have her ears screamed into by the shrieking, overjoyed fans surrounding her. Slipping backstage with her all-access pass, she had made her way through the teams of security to the backstage area, thinking it would be a calmer vantage point. But even there, the energy and excitement was palpable. She had witnessed Cash’s brilliance at his last concert, but to experience the phenomenon so close was mesmerizing.
Finishing his last song he waved to the crowd and bounded off stage. A burly, baldheaded man pushed her out of the way as Cash walked past, grabbing a towel from a security guard and rubbing it across his face and chest. The crowd was rocking the house with chants of Cash, Cash, Cash, and after downing a large bottle of water he ran back to his fans, greeted by a roar of appreciation.
“I love New York!” he shouted, causing another wave of massive acclamation. “Thank you! You guys are the best.” Another resounding response echoed through the vast space, and as the lights dimmed and he approached the microphone, the crowd quieted.
“Hope you don’t mind but I’m gonna sing a little ballad I just wrote. Finished it today so it’ll just be me and the piano. You wonderful people will be the first to hear it. It’s called, Sapphire Eyes.”
Marilyn was astounded at the hush that fell over the tens of thousands of people that filled the venue, and she watched, transfixed, as he sat down at the gleaming baby grand. His hands began fluttering across the keys, and he closed his eyes as he broke into song. The lilting, beautiful melody floated through the air, and across the stadium thousands of tiny flames appeared, moving in unison.
The technical crew saw the chance and grabbed it, dowsing the audience in complete darkness and leaving a golden spotlight on Cash. The concert was being recorded for a live album and television special, and the camera operators moved as covertly as they could, capturing the magic moment for posterity.
Dancing freckles under Sapphire Eyes,
A pure heart that knows no lies,
Sprinkling sunshine with her smile,
I want to sit and stay a while.
A while, a while, I want to stay a while,
And warm myself in her sunshine smile.
Her sweetness lingers in my head
I want her in my bed, my bed,
The touch of her lips against mine will stay
The taste of her will never go away.
She is in my head to stay, to stay
Dancing freckles under Sapphire Eyes,
A pure heart that knows no lies,
Dancing freckles under Sapphire Eyes,
A pure heart that knows no lies,
Born a beauty, a gift to behold
Far more precious than a bushel of gold,
Strawberry lips, honey-streaked hair,
I ache to whisper hot words in her ear.
Dancing freckles under Sapphire Eyes,
A pure heart that knows no lies,
Dancing freckles under Sapphire Eyes,
A pure heart that knows no lies.
Come to me, my Angel of light,
Come to me, give me sight,
To see the world through Sapphire Eyes,
And a pure heart that knows no lies.
Dancing freckles under Sapphire Eyes,
A pure heart that knows no lies,
Dancing freckles under Sapphire Eyes,
A pure heart that knows no lies.
His voice carried the final note high into the air, the lyric whispering through the auditorium, the adoring fans already mouthing the words, already knowing the memorable melody as Cash brought the ballad to its end.
“Who is the girl with the sapphire eyes?” Marilyn mumbled under her breath. “Is she the reason you don’t want me?”
Sam Reed had arrived during the encore, purposely standing close to her, and as Cash sang the last extraordinary note, he shook his head and muttered,
“That is one hell of a voice, and another platinum hit.”
Marilyn glanced at the stranger. She’d noticed him when he’d first arrived, thinking she recognized him but didn’t know why. He was impeccably dressed in designer jeans and a leather jacket that she would have killed for, and he carried an air of authority that reminded her of Cash, but he was older, she guessed in his late 30’s or early 40’s.
Feeling her eyes he turned and stared back at her, a half smile crossing his face. She nodded and returned his smile, but a moment later Cash was jostled past them to the dressing rooms, interrupting their silent exchange.
She knew the drill. He’d disappear into a private dressing room, two guards standing outside the door, while a post concert gathering would begin in another room. A little while later Cash would appear, showered and dressed.
The man in the leather jacket moved next to her, extending his hand.
“Sam Reed,” he said, offering his hand.
“Marilyn Sanders,” she smiled, shaking his hand firmly. “Great to meet you. I thought you looked important.”
“I look important? Thank you, I think?”
“I know who you are. My father is Elliot Sanders.”
“I see. Your father and I have crossed paths many times.”
“It’s a small world at the top,” she remarked. “I’m surprised you and I haven’t met before.”
“I don’t get to the concerts very often. My joy is found behind a desk and on the phone making things like this happen.”
“I’ll bet you have your hands full managing someone like Cash.”
“Not like you’d think. I wish they were all like him. Are you staying? Do you want to walk with me to the postmortem?”
“Sure, my date is in his dressing room, and he’ll be swarmed when he finally arrives.”
“Your date? Cash is your date? I guess that lets me out.”
His eyes caught hers, and for a moment she felt the belly flip, the erotic stomach turn that Cash had caused, and she dropped her head quickly as she felt the red warmth cross her face. But he’d turned and was striding away. She moved quickly to catch up, though as she fell into step beside him, he didn’t acknowledge her or glance down.
“No harm in keeping company,” she suggested.
“Of course not,” he replied, maintaining his quick pace.
“I know you said you don’t attend many of his shows, but do you go to all the big ones?” she asked, trying to make conversation.
“No,” he answered briskly, pushing open a door.
He walked inside, holding it for her, and as she moved past him into the room she could feel his eyes on her back. She turned to continue their conversation, but he was already heading towards the bar, greeting a group of well dressed people. Standing alone, feeling slightly awkward, she saw a buffet and wandered over, having no desire to eat anything, but needing somewhere to put herself.
Lifting her eyes in a covert gaze, she watched the celebrated manager expertly and comfortably mingle. He had large, gesticulating hands, talked with ease and confidence, and she couldn’t help but notice his loafers were Gucci, his jeans Armani, and the leather jacket she guessed to be Ferragamo. He suddenly turned his head and caught her eye.
I see you, his look said, and I know exactly what you’re thinking.
* * *
There was more than one reason Cash locked himself away directly after a show. He needed a shower, time to consider his performance, and he needed sex.
Over the years he had carefully created relationships with women in the major cities, each a spanking devotee. They were loyal, adoring, and knew there were no strings. Cash didn’t like the term, friends with benefits, but that’s what they were, and he made sure the benefits were reciprocated.
These special women in his life always had VIP seats, were transported in luxury to and from the venue, and often, if he was in the area for more than one night, he would invite them to lunch or dinner, but he did quite a bit more than that.
He had enabled one to finish college and achieve her PhD, another he had once provided a powerful attorney. They knew he was there for them, and whenever they needed him he always returned their call.
In New York his special friend was Tina Compton. He had met her almost a decade before, the first time he had played in Manhattan. The club had been small but popular, and lent itself to mingling. He had been taken with Tina’s bubbly personality, and once alone in his dressing room she had literally crawled across his lap, begging him to spank her. Astonished at his good fortune, spank her he did, and he had been burning her backside ever since.
As he showered, knowing she would be bouncing in to see him the moment he made the call, he contemplated how his life would be different if he was in a monogamous relationship. He hadn’t had one for many years, his career and constant touring had made it a ridiculous notion, but as he soaped himself and rinsed off, he thought about the song he’d written, how he’d felt as he’d played it on stage seeing Becky in his mind’s eye. Was he really so taken with her, or was it simply because she had no idea who he was, and her attraction to him had been completely sincere?
Stepping from the shower he toweled off and pulled on a robe, shaking off his heavy pondering. The show had been a huge success and he’d had a blast, and now it was time to attend to his raging erection. Picking up his phone he hit Tina’s name and she picked up instantly.
“Cash, you were super awesome tonight,” she exclaimed, her personality effervescing through the phone.
“Where are you?”
“In the party room having a drink,” she replied. “There are a ton of people here already and more coming in.”
“Get your ass down here. I need to see it naked and pink.”
“Oh, my God. Cash, I swear, you make me legless.”
“Turn left, third door, you’ll see the bodyguards. You’ve got twenty- seconds, and you’ll get an extra smack for every second you’re late.”
“On my way!”
* * *
Marilyn saw the attractive redhead dash by, and curious she started towards the door to poke her head out and see where the girl was headed in such a hurry, but Sam Reed stepped in front of her.
“Enjoying yourself?”
She found herself looking into light brown eyes dotted with blue flecks. They locked her gaze, almost challenging her.
“Yes, just wondering where Cash is, I mean, I know he takes a shower after the show but it seems like he’s taking a while.”
“He’ll get here when he’s ready. You don’t have a drink. What would you like?”
“Uh, not sure,” she stammered, looking past him at the door, realizing her opportunity to follow the girl had been lost.
“Let’s see what we can find for you,” he said, wrapping his fingers around her elbow and guiding her to the bar.
His grip was strong but not unkind or uncomfortable, his manner gently forceful, and for a second time, Marilyn was experiencing the strange stomach churning.
* * *
Tina had made it to the door of Cash’s dressing room and was waiting for the burly boys to let her in. Once inside she rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“Cash, it’s not my fault it took them forever to open the door.”
“How late do you think you are?” he asked, grinning as he looked up from his watch.
“Tell me.”
“Thirty-five seconds.”
“No! I am not that late, and if I am, like I said, it’s not my fault.”
“You wouldn’t be arguing with me, would you?”
“Never,” she replied, then giggled.
“Why aren’t you pulling off your panties?” he asked, taking her by the hand and leading her to the small couch.
“What makes you think I’m wearing any?”
“Little girl, I am so gonna spank your butt.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“How long has it been?” he asked, sitting down and pulling her over his lap.
“About eight months ago?”
“Poor baby, eight months and no spanking? How have you managed to behave yourself?”
“Uh, not exactly,” she muttered, squirming salaciously on his thighs.
“Time to fix that!” he declared, and lifting her skirt, he found himself staring at her naked backside.
“No panties? Such a naughty girl,” he murmured, landing a sound smack.
“Ouch! So hard so soon?”
“Are you complaining?”
“No, Sir,” she replied, instantly falling into her submissive state.
Cash slapped his hand across her full, plump backside, spreading his palm across her white skin quickly staining it pink. She let out squeals as the force of his smacks increased, but when he paused, he heard a satisfyingly long sigh.
“You really needed this, didn’t you Tina?”
“Yes, I did,” she breathed, “though I forgot how hot your hand can be.”
“Is there anything specific you need to be punished for?”
“I was afraid you’d ask me that.”
“Come on, Tina, tell me.”
“I’ve been procrastinating.”
“Again? That’s what you said the last time I saw you.”
“I know, and after you spanked me I was really good for about three months.”
“Next time you start falling behind, call me,” he said sternly, slapping her with gusto.
“Yes, yes, I’ve got it!”
“There’s a wooden hairbrush in my black bag,” he declared, pausing his hand. “Fetch it.”
“A hairbrush?” she whimpered. “Seriously?”
“Now!”
Hastily standing up, she rubbed her burnt skin for a moment, then walked quickly across the room to the bag sitting on a chair by the door. Opening it up she found the large, round, wooden brush.
“But, Cash?”
“Don’t try to get out of it,” he scolded. “You always do this, then I have to spank you harder, or is that what you’re hoping for?”
“No.”
“Come over here!”
Scurrying back, she positioned herself over his lap and let out a long, heavy sigh.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, Sir,” she mewled, then added plaintively, “oh, dear.”
Raising the brush, he smacked her quickly and with considerable zeal, eliciting squeals and squirms as the spanking continued.
“I’ll be good, I swear. Please, Cash, no more, please.”
“But for how long?” he asked, the brush swinging from cheek to cheek.
“I’ll call you, I’ll call you the minute I start to fall behind!” she promised, twisting her prominent hips from side to side.
The delicious pressure from her wriggling pelvis was getting the better of him. Throwing down the hairbrush, he moved her off his lap, and was just about to open his robe so she could sit on his cock when Becky flashed through his head. He suddenly, inexplicably, wanted Tina to leave.
“I’m sorry, Tina, that’s it for now.”
“Cash, what’s wrong?” she asked, her face crinkling. “Are you all right?”
“I’m suddenly feeling dizzy,” he muttered. “I was really pumped tonight. I think I just need electrolytes.”
“Should I get them for you?”
“It’s a blend of salts I have to mix myself, but I need to rest for just a few minutes. You go and join the party. I’ll be along shortly.”
“Okay,” she mumbled, moving her hands over her hair. “I hope you feel better soon.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Kissing him on the cheek, she picked up her purse and left the room. Letting out a sigh,
Cash leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“Becky,” he whispered under his breath, “what the hell have you done to me?”