Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Relax, Rafe. Who cares about TMZ? They’ve been following us for days, the more we hide, the more Marshey is a fucking thing.” I look back at Courtney who is smiling and laughing with a technician who’s adjusting her microphone.
“Let’s talk privately.” He glares at me as he throws open the black lacquered door.
“The fuck is going on with you?” I question, walking toward another sound room.
“Nothing is going on with me besides having to play daddy.” He takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to calm himself enough to go on.
“Daddy?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Where’s Nuke?” He ignores the jab, and I nod because it all makes sense. He’s concerned about Nuke.
“He’s at my place.”
“Is he using?”
“Look, man, he’s got demons, but as of right now, he tells me he’s just drinking.”
“So, you’re enabling him,” he states as I just stare at him, trying to decide the best way to deal with this.
“He’s a grown man…and he’s staying at my house,” I state slowly, because we’ve all had our fill of Nuke and his addictions. He’s been in and out of rehab, traveled the world for cures, but at the end of the day, whatever he’s seeking he still hasn’t found.
“Okay.” He nods. “He texted me that he wanted to throw you and Courtney a party. A thank you party and a celebration on the album.” He puts his cell in my face, and if it was anyone other than Rafe, I’d punch him. As it is, I slowly move his hand away.
“So?” My eyes remain locked on his.
“So… He wants prostitutes and drugs.” He shakes his head, like I should know all this.
“Christ.” I scrub my hands up and down my face.
“Did you and Pam—”
“Don’t mention that name.” He moves closer, and this is the first time in close to twenty years I can actually say Rafe might be losing his shit. His dark eyes are piercing into mine.
“Look, I’m not gonna do this, man. You want to talk, I’m there for you. As for Nuke…he’s Nuke. I can’t control him, can’t fix him, I learned that years ago. He’s gonna do what he wants to do. I’m letting him crash at my place because he’s my brother and will be there to help. If you want to play Daddy, you know where I live, go get him, put him back in rehab.” I move around him.
“What’s going on with the Disciples?” His voice makes me hesitate at the door.
“I’ll know everything tomorrow.” Turning to look at him. “Get ready, this might be messy.” Walking out, I ignore his cursing…again, very un-Rafe. He must have called it off with Pam, or she left him. Either way, he needs to get it together.
Turning the corner, I go straight into the recording room where Courtney’s still in the booth, grab the guitar I left on the couch from earlier, and open the door.
Courtney turns but doesn’t miss a beat, her lips, Christ, her lips just do it for me as she smirks and reaches to grab ahold of my tee.
She’s my dream girl. One small touch and everything, all the noise, fades away and I can’t stop myself, I claim those bee-stung lips. She laughs and stops singing.
“Let’s take five…” Malcolm’s voice bounces around the booth.
“You okay?” her voice is breathy, raspy, and my cock hardens as I lean back and strum the guitar.
“I am now.” Letting my fingers slide up and down the neck as I grin, watching her eyes change from light honey gold to deep amber as she licks her lips.
“You seem stressed….” Her one hand reaches out to rub my hard erection as her smile deepens and I lean back on the door.
“Hmm, what’s the name of this song?” she asks me as she takes the headphones off and slides to her knees.
“Dream girl,” I growl as she unzips my jeans and jerks them down enough to release my cock as she looks up at me. Her one hand grabs the base of my dick, bringing her lips to just the tip as I raise the guitar as she starts to stroke and suck.
“Ammo…” She purrs as her eyes look up at me, then goes back to sucking on just the tip, hard, and I know I’m not gonna last long because she’s not fucking around.
Her hand starts to jack me off as her mouth continues to suck, and I stop playing as I let the guitar drop to my side with a loud screech. I’m lost to her as my hands reach for the back of her hair as my balls grow tight.
“Yeah, fucking suck that cum out of me,” I command, my nostrils flaring as she moans loudly, echoing around the booth.
“Swallow it, baby,” I demand, as I let go, spiraling, as I pulse out my release in her perfect mouth.