Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
At an upmarket, private club a short distance away, Sam and Andrew were catching their breath and sharing notes. It had been a long tour, a long week, and long day, but it was almost at an end.
“I don’t know how we survive these things,” Sam remarked. “At least I’m at an office, and it’s not twenty-four hours a day like it is for you.”
“I don’t know how you can stand to be cooped up,” Andrew retorted, picking up his beer and taking a drink. “I’d go nuts.”
“That, my friend, is why we’re such a great team. Damn, now what,” Sam muttered as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he studied the screen. “It’s Elliott Sanders. I wonder if he knows his daughter has a job,” he mused, accepting the call. “Hi Elliott, I’m in a no cell phone zone. I have to be quick.”
“Hello, Sam, no problem. How the hell did you persuade my daughter to work for you? I don’t know how long it will last, but thanks.”
“I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse,” Sam chuckled.
“You’ll have to tell me about that some time, but you’re busy so I’ll get to the point. Can you get her in a box for Cash’s show? I tried my contact at the record company, but he couldn’t squeeze her in anywhere. By the way, please keep this just between us. She made me promise not to ask you.”
The request caught Sam off guard, but an idea suddenly flashed through his mind.
“I can’t get her into a box, but I’ll leave a ticket for her at will call.”
“Thanks, Sam. I’ll let her know, but remember, we never had this conversation.”
“Not to worry,” Sam assured him. “We’ll talk later,” then ending the call, he rolled his eyes.
“What?” Andrew asked.
“You won’t believe this,” Sam declared. “I made it clear to Marilyn she wasn’t to come to the concert, and she asked Elliot to get her in.”
“I bet you want to take a cane to her backside, but you can’t unless you fire her.”
“I may not be able to burn her butt, but I do have something in mind.”
“And that would be?”
His lips curling in a devilish smile, Sam outlined how he planned to deal with his willful new employee.
* * *
Though Sam had ordered Marilyn to stay in New York, she was desperate to see the last show. Deciding he’d be none the wiser if she avoided the parties, she’d booked a private plane, then called her father and begged him to find a way to get her in. Now in the luxury lounge of a private airport, she paced impatiently. In spite of leaving him several messages, he hadn’t called. Downing the last mouthful of a glass of champagne, she was about to text him again when her phone rang.
“Finally,” she muttered as she looked at the screen. “Hello, dad. Were you able to do it?”
“Yes, I rustled you up a ticket. It will be at the will call window.”
She paused.
“You mean, a ticket in the audience? No box?”
“Not at chance, but at least you’ll be there. I have to go, hon. Have a good time.”
“I will, and thanks, Dad.”
She paused.
Nestled in a comfortable box enjoying gourmet munchies and expensive liquor was very different from being in the middle of a huge crowd sitting God knows where.
“Excuse me, Miss Sanders, it’s time to board,” said the concierge, snatching her from her thoughts.
“Uh, yeah,” she muttered, thinking how furious Sam would be if he found out she was there. She still didn’t know why he didn’t want her to go with him, but suddenly out of the ether, an idea came to mind.
“I’m coming,” she smiled, thinking, Sam didn’t say I couldn’t go, he just said I couldn’t go with him.
* * *
Opening his eyes and feeling Becky’s warm, soft body beside him, Cody sighed contentedly. She was still sleeping, and looking down at her tumbleweed hair and angelic face, he couldn’t imagine anyone else in his bed. Faceless, nameless women had bounced through his life, too many to count, let alone remember. When he thought back to the early days, and the endless line of groupies who had climbed between the motel sheets, draped themselves over dressing room sofas, and crawled around the lumpy mattresses on the floor of his various vans, he almost cringed. Glancing across at the clock on the nightstand, he was shocked to see it was almost seven-thirty. The hotel phone was blinking. Messages were waiting. There would be texts and voicemails on his cell phones. He yawned and stretched, then thought they should have dinner with her father and Joan, but stirring from her nap, Becky moved deliciously against him.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he smiled, rolling over and holding her.
“My gosh, I can’t believe I fell asleep. What time is it?”
“Late, almost seven-thirty, do you want to eat with the folks?”
“I would, but Dad said he was taking Joan somewhere special for dinner.”
“That means we have the night to ourselves,” he grinned, leaning down and kissing the top of her breast. “Do you want to go somewhere or stay here?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’m thinking we should postpone dinner for a little while,” he murmured, opening his mouth and drawing in a nipple.
“Mmm, sounds nice. Why don’t we take a shower together and think about what to do from there?”
“Brilliant suggestion, I’ll get it started.”
Watching him slip from the bed and make his way into the bathroom, she thought back to the many times she’d wanted to talk to her father about finding her own place, but had held back, afraid of abandoning him. She let out a sigh. All the while, he’d been seeing Joan.
A song suddenly danced through her head.
Jumping out of bed, she hurried to a small desk near the window and turned on the lamp. Finding the complimentary pad of paper and a pen, she sat down and hastily began to write.
Your life is not a telephone
To be put on hold
Your life is not a souvenir
Waiting to be sold
Your life is not a circling plane
Waiting for word to land
Your life is your most precious gift
Live it while you can.
“Becky?” Cody called, standing in the doorway of the bathroom and looking across at her “Aren’t you coming?”
“A song just came into my head. I had to get it down on paper.”
“Can I see it?” he asked, walking over to her.
“Um, sure. It’s nothing, really,” she said, suddenly nervous, knowing he’d written hit after hit.
“How did it come to you?”
“I was thinking about how I’ve been treading water for years,” she replied, handing him the note pad, “and the lyrics popped into my head. It’s no big deal.”
She watched him read the short verse, then he abruptly handed the pad back to her, walked across the room and picked up his guitar.
“What are you doing?”
“I can hear a melody,” he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and plucking the strings. “What do you think of this?”
As he played, she followed with the words in her head, then let out a happy cry.
“That’s perfect!” she exclaimed. “Play it again.”
Cody strummed his guitar, and Becky softly sang the lyrics.
“Cody,” she whispered as it came to an end, “we’re magic.”
Placing his guitar on the bed, he stood up and brought her into his arms
“Yes, we are,” he murmured as she sank against him and closed her eyes.
“Let’s go make some more music in the shower,” he crooned. “It’s waiting for us.”
Moving into the bathroom and reaching into the stall, he turned her to face the wall, then kissed her shoulders and began kneading her breasts.
“Cody,” she moaned, turning to face him, “I have a fantasy.”
“Tell me,” he muttered, leaning in to lick the droplets of water from her neck.
“I’d rather show you,” she breathed, and wrapping her fingers around his stiffened cock, she slowly tongued her way down his torso.
As he slid down the wall to sit on the bench seat, she carefully kneeled on the hard, marble floor. Closing his eyes, he surrendered to the tantalizing pleasure, and as she lowered her head and sucked him into her mouth, he clutched a handful of her soaked hair. Guiding her movements, he hissed in his breath as the scintillating sensations flowed through his loins.
“That’s so fucking great,” he grunted, tightening his grip on her hair. “Keep sucking just like that…”
But only a short time passed before his climax loomed.
Abruptly tugging back her head, he grabbed his cock and urgently stroked himself, groaning loudly as his hot cream exploded over his hand. With his limbs still tingling, he took a long, deep breath and leaned back against the wall. Climbing up to sit beside him, she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Becky, that was absolutely amazing,” he finally murmured, opening his eyes.
“So I guess I did good,” she remarked, looking at him with a sassy grin.
“You’re unbelievable,” he grinned back, “but now it’s my turn to surprise you,” he declared,
standing up and turning off the faucets.
* * *
Five minutes later, she was lying on the tousled sheets waiting for him to join her, watching him rummage through one of his bags.
“What, exactly, is that?” she asked skeptically as he sat next to her holding an odd-looking purple ball.
“This is a vibrator, and you’re going to use it,” he ordered, handing it to her, then lowering his voice, he added, “while I watch.”
“I’d love that,” she said eagerly, studying the innocent looking toy.
“But, Becky, there’s a catch.”
“What kind of catch?”
“You’ll be wearing this,” he said, opening his palm and revealing a black satin eye mask. “Have you ever been blindfolded?”
“No, and I’d love that too,” she replied as a thousand butterflies fluttered to life in her stomach. “I’ve always wondered what that would be like.”
Leaning over her and sliding the mask in place, he took the vibrator, turned it on, then placed it back in her hand.
“Spread your legs and press it against your pussy.”
Pushing the buzzing ball against her sex, only seconds passed before the scintillating sensations pulsed through her sex, evoking a loud moan.
“Cody, this is going to happen really fast,” she bleated. “It’s so powerful.”
“Not as fast as you think,” he growled, his lips suddenly at her ear. “When you’re on the brink, you’ll stop, count to ten, and then you can climax.”
“No, please…”
A stinging slap landed on her thigh.
“Ooh, ow, that hurt.”
“You’ll do as I say,” he said sternly. “When you’re on the brink, you’ll stop and count to ten. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said hastily.
“I’m glad you said that correctly,” he remarked, rubbing the hot, sore spot.
The unexpected smack stung, but it had also fueled her arousal, and when his mouth closed over her nipples and hungrily drew them in, she let out a long, loud groan.
“You’ll be doing this often,” he warned, moving his lips to nuzzle her neck, “but next time you’ll be on your hands and knees, and I’ll be spanking your gorgeous ass.”
As the wicked promise sent a rush of energy through her pussy, she felt her orgasm beginning to build.
“Sometimes I’ll make you stop several times before you can come, or I’ll take the vibrator away and use it myself. When I do that, I’ll make you wait, and wait…”
“Cody, I’m there, but I—“
His fingers suddenly wrapped around her wrist and jerked her hand up.
“Count to ten.”
“One, two, three—“ she whimpered as her thighs squeezed together.
“Too fast. I’m taking over. One—two—” he began, his count agonizingly slow.
As he continued, though she longed to move her other hand against her clit, she was worried he may not let her climax at all if she dared to be so defiant.
“Nine—ten, now you may come,” he declared, pushing the vibrating ball back between her legs.
Surrendering to the glorious, buzzing ball, she held her breath as she chased the powerful orgasm, but unexpectedly his mouth closed over a nipple, sucked it in, then nipped, catapulting her into her release, As the spasms seized her, his mouth swiftly closed over hers in a crushing kiss, muffling her joyous squeals until the last convulsion waned.
She vaguely felt him take the vibrator, then slipping the mask from her eyes, he brought her into his arms.
“How did you like the blindfold?”
“I absolutely loved it,” she sighed, then taking a breath, she asked, “Cody, how did we happen? I mean, what are the odds?”
“It’s a funny thing,” he said softly. “When the bus broke down, I walked up to the front to find out what was going on, and just as I looked out the windshield the neon light flickered into life over your diner. Thinking about it now gives me goosebumps. I’ve worked my ass off, and I’ve always believed we make things happen, but meeting you—I think that was fate.”