Chapter 28
Ryleigh
Angus looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but Callum pumps his hand like they’re old friends.
“We’re going to powder our noses!” Taryn calls out, tugging me away from the guys.
“How are you?” I ask, sliding my arm through hers.
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why I stay with the surly bastard. I guess it’s because he has a big dick.”
“The sex can’t be that good,” I say, laughing. “Can it?”
She does a little shrug thing. “It’s pretty good. It’s just the other twenty-two hours a day that suck.”
“It’s hard to find guys who are good in bed,” I acknowledge, since I know that firsthand.
“How’s Angus?”
“Amazing.” I smile. “Both in and out of bed.”
“Lucky you.”
Yeah, until I tell him what kind of story I’m supposed to be writing.
“Can you keep a secret?” I ask softly.
“Of course.”
“I mean it—you can’t tell Callum.”
“Never.”
“I’m supposed to be writing a story about Angus’s lying about his identity, and the impact it’s having on the band.”
“Are the rumors about them breaking up true?” Her eyes round.
“Not that I know of, but that’s not the point.”
“Oh. He doesn’t know.”
I shake my head.
“And now you’re sleeping together.”
“Now we’re dating. Like feeling out a relationship. Joking about the future.”
“It’s potentially serious.”
“Yeah.”
“So what’s the problem? He’s loaded. If you get fired, big deal.”
“I can’t…” I pull in a breath. “I don’t want to be in a situation where I depend on him. Not unless we were married. And even then, I’d still want my own thing.”
“But that’s not how relationships are supposed to work.”
“You know my parents’ history. My mom was blindsided when Dad left. She had to work two jobs sometimes to get through because she didn’t have a career. Yes, he sent money, but it wasn’t always enough. She still had to cover all the bills, the extras. If you ask me, she died because she worked herself to death. And that will never be me.”
“I understand that, truly. But what are you even doing if you’re not going to trust him? How can you fall in love and build a future if you’ve got one foot out the door?”
“It’s not that I have a foot out the door, it’s that I don’t want to give up my career to be on tour with him.”
“You shouldn’t have to. It’s not like you’re a nurse working at a hospital five days a week. You can write from anywhere, do your Rockin’ with Ryleigh thing from anywhere… what’s the problem, Ry?”
“I don’t know. I guess part of me is afraid this all might blow up in my face so I’m protecting myself. And I know he’s going to be upset when he finds out the real reason Rich embedded me with the band.”
“As a spy.”
“Basically.”
“Tell him. Just get it out there and be done.”
“Tomorrow,” I say after a moment. “I don’t want to tell him right before a show, especially when everyone is annoyed about the time change, but tomorrow is a travel day. We’ll have time.”
“Good.” She nods.
“When are you going to break up with Callum?”
She laughs. “When I get tired of orgasms? I mean, the man is hung like a freakin’ stallion. He just has to put it in, he hits my G-spot and I come, like, twelve times.”
“Jesus.”
“I have a casting call in L.A. next week, so I’m going to physically leave him then, and I think I’ll just break up with him over the phone. It’s easier that way.”
“You think he won’t take it well?”
“I don’t know,” she says thoughtfully, reapplying her lipstick. “I think he likes having someone he can boss around. And since I generally just ignore him, he has to work for it, which he’s not used to. Plus, you know, he gets to say his girlfriend is a model.”
“I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to stay with someone.”
“Like I said, I stay for the orgasms.”
We finish up and head back to the VIP area where Angus is still talking with Callum.
And neither of them looks happy.
“I was just explaining to your boyfriend that his daddy’s money can’t buy everything. Like a good spot in the lineup tonight. Sometimes skill and talent trumps money.”
I blink, staring at him blandly. “Tell me you have a small penis without telling me you have a small penis.”
Taryn snorts into her hand and Callum shoots her a dirty look.
“You should keep better control of your woman,” he snarls at Angus.
“You should keep better control of your mouth,” he shoots back.
“You want a piece of me?” Callum steps forward, puffing out his chest.
“No one wants a piece of you.” Jonny appears out of nowhere, standing shoulder to shoulder with Angus. “But I’m happy to take a few swings at your ugly mug.”
“Oh, look, it’ll take two of you?”
“Not at all.” Angus takes another step forward. “Go on. Take your shot. I’m right here.”
“Gentlemen.” A well-known entertainment reporter from L.A. approaches our little cluster knowingly. “Could I get a picture of the three of you? I’m covering the event. I’m trying to get shots of guys from different bands hanging out.”
There’s no doubt in my mind that’s a lie, but Thaddeus Larkin has been around the block a few times. I’m positive he sees what’s going on and this is a diversion so things don’t get ugly, and I’m grateful for it.
“Sure.” Jonny turns and obligingly puts an arm around Angus’s shoulder. Callum pastes a fake smile on his face. The three of them actually look like they’re in pain—that’s going to be the worst shot ever.
Thaddeus takes a handful of photos, then asks Taryn to take one of him with the guys. They start talking shop, and Callum immediately dominates the conversation, eventually giving Angus and Jonny an excuse to slip away.
“Fuck that asshole,” Jonny mutters.
“He’s awful,” I say. “I don’t know how she stays with him.” I keep the size of his penis to myself.
“Thanks for having my back,” Angus says quietly.
Jonny stops and turns to him. “See, that’s the difference between us. I consider you my brother. You fucked up, big-time, but when the chips are down, you always have your brother’s back. I’m pissed at you, but I’ll always have your back.” And with that, he turns and stomps in the other direction.
“You should go after him,” I say softly.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Not here, with so many people watching and listening. The media is everywhere.”
“Yes,” I say, chuckling, “we are.”
He smiles down at me. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“What?” I frown. “The thing with Callum? He’s a condescending jerk. You have nothing to be sorry for. He started it.”
“But I was willing to finish it.”
“Sometimes you need to punch the shit out of someone, when they’re particularly douchey.”
“Still. Not professional.”
“Ah, this is rock and roll. You probably have a little leeway.”
He turns and his eyes bore into mine. “You’re something, you know that?”
“Thank you.” I wind my arms around his neck. “Wanna fool around?”
His eyes do that thing where they get all dark, stormy, and sexy. “Where did you have in mind?”
“Anywhere you can bend me over and make me come.”
All of Taryn’s talk about orgasms has me wanting one of my own. Now that we’re not using condoms, we have a lot more leeway. Especially since I’m wearing a short denim skirt.
He grabs my hand and practically yanks me out of the VIP room. We head toward the stage, where the first band is playing. There are three stages—the main stage, the VIP stage, and what they’re calling the secondary stage. The VIP stage is featuring all older, classic rock bands like Foreigner and Night Ranger. The main stage is where headliners like Nobody’s Fool and Crimson Edge are playing. And the secondary stage is for bands filling the time gap while the main and VIP stages are being taken down and set up between sets.
Currently, Night Ranger is on the stage, and though part of me wants to see their set, I’m far more interested in what Angus has in mind.
“You know we might get caught, right?” he yells against my ear, pulling me into a tiny alcove just behind the VIP stage. There’s crew and security and people with VIP passes roaming around, and though the alcove is somewhat hidden by a tall stack of amps, it’s still…right here in the thick of things.
And that turns me on even more.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I yell back.
He covers my mouth with his, kissing me intently, our tongues swirling and dipping as he runs his hands over me possessively. God, I love how it feels to belong to him. To be touched by him. Be in his orbit.
I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to be loved by him. To hear him say he’s in love with me.
I moan just thinking about it, and he takes a quick look around before turning me away from him. He bends me over and lifts my skirt, running his hands over my bare ass. I’m wearing a thong so there’s a little barrier but not much.
“You’re soaked,” he muses, and I feel him unzipping his jeans. He presses the head of his cock at my entrance and thrusts hard and deep.
“Oh, fuck.” I cry out softly—not that anyone can hear me over the music.
Everything is intensified in this position, and I pant with need and excitement.
The music is loud, his body is hot and sweaty against mine, his cock filling me over and over. The slick warmth between my legs has me on the edge, so close to detonation I’m practically shaking.
“Angus, please!” I don’t know if he hears me, but one hand travels up and under my tank top to squeeze my breast. He kneads and plucks at my nipple, increasing the pressure until I whimper. I’m so damn close.
“You gonna come right here in front of everybody?” he taunts, picking up speed.
At this point, the Pope himself could be watching, and nothing would stop me from finishing what we’ve started.
“Angus!” I scream his name as my orgasm hits me hard, my ass surging back to meet his frantic thrusts. The last few pumps of his hips lift me right off the ground but I’m too blissed out to notice. His body shakes over mine as he fills me, and we ride out the aftershocks together.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he growls against my ear.
“I fucking love you,” I whisper, though I know he can’t hear me over the sound of “Sister Christian” blasting through the speakers.
It might be the only time I can say it—because tomorrow, I have to tell him the truth.