Skylar
Cheering from the massive crowd floods my ears as Phoenix sings the last verse of “Sharp Objects.”
Shortly after, the band waves goodbye and the curtain descends, much to the disappointment of their devoted fans.
As if on cue, they begin chanting, demanding a repeat performance.
Storm’s voice comes through the speakers. “I don’t know, guys, I’m not sure I feel the love.”
“I think they can do better than that,” Phoenix responds.
“Come on, Dallas,” Memphis says. “You’re bruising Phoenix’s ego.”
The already rowdy crowd grows even louder, so much so I’m sure most of them won’t have voices tomorrow.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Phoenix says as the curtain opens, and the song starts up again.
My hand tightens around the keycard in my hand. Memphis slipped it into the pocket of my jeans shortly before he went on stage and told me to leave the concert early.
Evidently, I’m not departing fast enough, though, because he shoots me a brief warning glance that makes me haul ass.
My pulse matches the bass line as I sprint down the hallway, anticipating what he has in store for me.
Unfortunately, those delicious thoughts are interrupted because I run into Chandler as I’m grabbing my purse from the greenroom. “Everything okay?”
Instantly, I rub my stomach and rattle off the same lie I just texted Josh. “The burrito I had for lunch didn’t agree with me.”
The skepticism in his eyes tells me he thinks I’m full of shit.
Side-stepping him, I make my way toward the door. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel and rest.”
The chances of Josh coming to our room to check on me after the show is slim to none. If he does, I’ll just tell him I went to the pharmacy.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Chandler says behind me. “And we’re all going to suffer the consequences.”
His ominous words stop me in my tracks. As much as I want to tell him he’s wrong and to mind his damn business, I can’t.
The band is his business, and he has every right to be concerned.
My behavior is reckless, and the potential repercussions won’t only impact me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
And then I run off…
Because Josh isn’t the only one with an addiction.
My exchange with Chandler reverberates through my head as I stare at the hotel door…like it’s a ticking time bomb.
There are numerous reasons I shouldn’t keep playing with fire.
But only one that makes it worth the burn.
I’m puzzled when I open the door to Memphis’s hotel room…because it’s not a regular room.
It’s a very spacious—and very expensive—suite.
Despite his bank account containing seven digits and being so famous he needs his own security, he’s never been into the posh and glamorous lifestyle.
For a moment I wonder if I walked into the wrong one, but then I see an envelope addressed to me on the console table.
Inside the envelope are small index cards.
My heart races when I read the two words scrawled on the first one. Strip down.
Feeling timid, I glance around. Surely, he doesn’t expect me to just stand around naked and wait for him. What if someone else walks in?
Ignoring his first directive, I flip to the next card. ‘Get out of your head.’
Damn him.
Huffing, I strip down to my bra and underwear then pick up the small stack.
Take off everything, Sky.
“Asshole,” I mutter as I begrudgingly peel off my undergarments until I’m standing in nothing but my birthday suit.
Good girl.
That makes me laugh…until I read the next one.
Now turn off the lights…and hide.
Impatient, I quickly turn to the final card. I suggest you pick a good hiding spot, because when I find you…I’m going to take what I want.
I’m equal parts nervous and aroused as I flick off the lights and peruse the suite. It’s way less fun if I make this too easy for him.
If he wants me…he’ll have to work for it.
Which means hiding under the bed or in the bathtub is out of the question. The closet would also be too obvious.
Unless I keep changing locations.
Memphis said I had to hide, but he never mentioned I couldn’t make him chase me as I do so.
Figuring he’ll start out in the bedroom, I wedge myself behind the loveseat and the wall.
And then I wait…for what feels like an eternity.
The sound of the door opening has my stomach tightening with excitement.
My body stills as his gruff voice cuts through the darkness. “One.”
I don’t move a muscle as I hear his footsteps heading for the bedroom. “Two.”
The closet opens and closes. “Three.”
I nearly jump out of my skin when he speaks again. His voice is closer than before I realize he’s approaching the living room. “Four.”
Thankfully he makes a sharp right at the last second and walks out onto the balcony instead. “Five.”
I take the opportunity to crawl into the bedroom and hide in the closet. Given he’s already checked it, I doubt he’ll do it again.
“Six,” he says from the living room.
I’m feeling mighty pleased with myself when I hear him walk into the bedroom. “Seven.”
Shit.
I breathe a sigh of relief when he cuts through the bedroom, heads into the adjoining bathroom, and opens what I’m guessing is the shower door. “Eight.”
His footsteps fade, which means he must have gone out the other bathroom door leading to the kitchenette area. “Nine.”
There’s a trace of irritation in his tone now. Slinking out of the closet, I can’t help but smile…
Until his footsteps round the corner into the living room…and head toward the bedroom for a third time.
Damn it. Having no choice, I dip behind the open door of the bedroom at the same time he enters.
The bastard checks the closet again before revisiting the bathroom.
Assuming he’s going to take the same route he did last time, I tiptoe toward the bed so I can hide underneath it.
“Ten.”
What the hell?
Before I can register what’s happening, Memphis lunges for me, wrapping an arm around my waist.
For a moment, fear takes over and my fight-or-flight mode kicks in, but then I get a whiff of his scent, and he whispers, “It’s me, Sky.”
I barely have time to take comfort in his reassurance when I’m shoved against the wall. He quickly captures both my wrists and forces them behind my back. A moment later something soft and satiny is secured around them.
A ribbon? Maybe a scarf? I don’t have time to ponder what because he turns me around so I’m facing him. He ever so gently runs the pad of his thumb along my jawline. “You can’t run away from me now.”
I’d never want to.
He digs his erection against me as his rough fingertips tighten around my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Be a good girl and make it wet.”
My nipples pucker as he pushes down on my shoulders until my knees hit the carpet.
Heat floods my body as he tugs down the zipper of his jeans, wraps a hand around the base of his cock, and holds it in front of my face like an offering.
Pressing my lips to the shiny head, I give him a gentle kiss.
He pulls back. “Use your tongue.”
Opening my mouth, I lightly lap at the drop of precum on his tip.
Nodding his approval, he jerks himself slowly. “Spit on it.”
Glancing up, I do what he says until saliva starts dripping down my chin. Closing my eyes, I take him as deep as I can, and he groans. However, when I go to do it again, he stops me.
“I want to find out if your pussy can make my dick even wetter than your mouth does.”
Faster than I can blink, he shifts me so my forehead is pressed against the carpet, and my ass is perched high in the air.
I’m so aroused I feel it on my inner thighs as he grabs my hips, mounting me from behind.
My breathing accelerates as he slowly slides his dick between my slickness, tormenting us both.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re soaked.”
A rough, almost painful sound leaves him as he positions my body to take his. Reaching between my thighs, he cups me. “Tell me who this belongs to.”
For one brief terrifying moment, Josh’s face flashes in my mind.
But Memphis’s voice. His touch. His presence—the way it both calms and claims me—drowns everything else out.
“You—”
I nearly choke on the word when he thrusts, filling me completely.
“Damn right.” He thrusts again, harder this time. “And don’t you ever…” Grabbing hold of my hair, he yanks my head back until his mouth hovers over my ear. “Fucking forget it.”
Digging his fingers into my scalp, he increases his pace. “I wish I could hate you.” The rug scratches my knees and forearms as he takes me in harsh, punishing movements. “I wish I never met you.”
His words and movements are brutal, but his tone is soft…defeated. Almost like he’s every bit as addicted to me—to us—as I am to him.
I jolt when his hand wraps around my throat and he squeezes. Not hard enough to make me pass out, but enough to make me gasp for air. “Tell me you hate me.”
I won’t. I can’t.
His hot, ragged breath fans my shoulder blades. “Tell me this is the last time.”
We both know it would be a lie.
I moan when the hand on my throat slides down my body and he pinches my clit. “I’m not done with you, either.” He massages in rhythmic circles that send me over the edge. “That’s it,” he says as my orgasm sweeps over me and I clamp around him. “Let that pussy cream my cock.”
He pounds into me as the final waves subside. A gruff, tattered sound leaves him as he shudders, filling me with hot liquid.
A few moments later he rolls me over and spreads my legs.
A small smirk twists his lips as he holds me open with his fingers—inspecting me—before pushing two of them inside me. “Dirty girl.”
I arch my back as he shoves his cum back inside me. Given my wrists are still bound, I couldn’t stop him even if I wanted to.
And I definitely don’t want to. Especially when he curls his drenched fingers, coaxing another orgasm from me. I grip them for dear life as he goes deeper, hitting my g-spot and feeding me his cum at the same time.
His smirk turns into a sly grin when a rush of fluid—a mixture of his and mine—pools underneath me.
“So messy,” he croons before he dips his head and brushes his lips over the tattoo on my hip.
His tattoo.
“Then clean me up,” I tease.
He lifts his head, eyeing me curiously, as if trying to decide whether or not I’m serious.
I wasn’t before, but the thought of Memphis doing something so filthy now has my insides tingling.
I hold his gaze, silently daring him.
Memphis isn’t one to back down from a challenge, but he also isn’t one to be coerced, either.
I suck in a sharp breath when he moves his head between my parted thighs. Dark eyes hold mine as he ever so slowly licks the length of my pussy.
It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen or experienced. “New kink unlocked.”
He laughs. “Is that so?”
That’s when I remember that this is now the second fantasy of mine he’s made come true. As much as I love it, I don’t want this to be one-sided.
“Tomorrow is your fantasy night. I’ll do anything you want.”
“You sure about that? I’m into some pretty freaky shit.”
I raise a brow. “Freakier than tonight?”
I shiver when he traces my slit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh, yeah.”
“Anything you want,” I insist, desperate for round two now. “And I mean anything.”
Later that night as I’m sneaking back to my room, Chandler’s words once again haunt me. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
I should feel guilty.
I should put a stop to it.
I should run away and never come back.
But I can’t.
Because some risks are worth the consequences.