The wild energy I had at that woman seeps out of me. “I just can’t believe she had the hide to say all that in front of me. It’s rude.”
He nods in agreement. “It is, but those types of women are everywhere in this business. You know that.”
“I know. I just wasn’t subjected to it much with Lennon.”
“You know I’m not interested in all that, right?”
“Yes, and I’m not even worried about that. I just can’t stand bitches like her.”
“I’ll tell you what I am interested in, though,” he says with a cheeky grin.
“Are you trying to change the subject?”
“Maybe a little, but mostly I’m trying to hurry shit along so we can get to the good part of today.”
He’s managed to calm me right down; it seems to be one of his specialties. I know exactly where he’s going with this, but I play with him a little. “The good part?”
Playing with Jett is only advisable if you’re ready for a game because he always gives as good as, or better, than he gets, and today is no exception. “The part where you take your clothes off for me so I can make you come over and over,” he says, before placing his mouth to my ear and saying, “and over.” His warm breath sends shivers through me and desire flares in my core.
He doesn’t even have to touch me; it only takes words from him and my body is alive with need. However, just as I’m about to suggest we get out of here, we’re interrupted by a phone call from Tom. Jett doesn’t take his eyes off me as he answers it gruffly, “What’s up?” His hand lazily trails a line down my back, and I shiver again, imagining what that hand will be doing to me soon.
I can’t hear what Tom says but Jett agrees with whatever it is and hangs up. Looking at me with regret, he says, “We’ve gotta go. We’re on a flight back home in six hours.”
“Why?” I’m confused about the sudden change in plans. And a little disappointed I won’t be getting to the good part of this afternoon now.
“Apparently, the record label has managed to set up some promo gigs in Australia, so they want us back home within twenty-four hours.”
I raise my brows. “Just like that?”
He shrugs. “It’s what we do, sweetheart. Things move fast and we go with the flow.”
“Okay, so no sex now, but I’m taking a raincheck. And I don’t even care how exhausted you are when we get home, you’re making good on the promises you’ve been making today.”
Grabbing my hand, he begins to lead me to the door while pulling me close, and he says, “By my rough calculations, I think we’ll be able to find some spare minutes in between getting from here to the hotel to the airport. And you know the things I can do to you in minutes, so I’ll make good on those promises.”
My tummy flutters.
I do know the things he can do to me in minutes.
* * *
We arrive back at the hotel to chaos. Just when it seemed like the band was getting their act together, all hell has broken loose.
“What the fuck has happened?” Jett is livid as he looks between West and Hunter. He got a call from West while we were in the taxi on the way back. Van and Tom were in the middle of an argument, and West was concerned as to where it would end up. He’d put Jett on the phone to Van to try and calm him down but, by the looks of it now, that hadn’t worked.
Tom glances at Jett from where he is by the window in his hotel room. Blood sticks to his face – his face that is now covered in nasty looking bruises and swelling. It’s as if he’s gone a round with a boxer. Spitting into the tissue in his hand, he mutters, “Turns out Van didn’t agree with the decision to go home and when we got into it, he raised some other things he has a problem with.”
Jett’s body is tense and anger is written all over him. “So he thought it was okay to use you as a fucking punching bag?”
Tom tries to speak but his face contorts in pain and he struggles to get the words out. We all watch him until West fills Jett in some more. “Van’s pissed that the label wants us to give up some promo he’s organised to go back and do their stuff instead. He’s also still pissed off at you, and when Tom shared his thoughts that you were right about not changing our sound dramatically, he lost it.”
“How’s Van looking?” Jett asks.
“Nowhere near as bad as Tom but he did take a couple of hits, too. Problem with Tom is that Van knocked him down and he hit the ground fairly hard. I’m concerned it’s caused more than just bruising and swelling.”
“And where the hell is Van now?”
There’s a knock at the door and Hunter leaves us to answer it while West keeps filling us in. “Fuck knows. He took off and said not to wait for him when we head to the airport.”
Jett’s body arches with anger and he grabs the back of his neck. “Jesus fucking Christ!” His wild gaze sweeps the room, taking it all in, and then he turns his gaze back to West. “What the hell is happening to us? Do we even have a band anymore?”
My attention shifts to Hunter who has let a man into the room, a doctor by the look of the bag he is carrying. They’re intent on getting to Tom so we all move to let them through, and a moment later the doctor is assessing Tom. Jett hasn’t calmed down but he’s reined his anger in while waiting to hear what the doctor has to say.
Time seems to drag on while we all wait, and I’m keenly aware time is edging closer to when we need to leave for the airport. Eventually, the doctor gives his verdict. “You’ve got concussion and need to rest. I’d actually recommend you go to the hospital to have it checked out.”
He nods in agreement. “It is, but those types of women are everywhere in this business. You know that.”
“I know. I just wasn’t subjected to it much with Lennon.”
“You know I’m not interested in all that, right?”
“Yes, and I’m not even worried about that. I just can’t stand bitches like her.”
“I’ll tell you what I am interested in, though,” he says with a cheeky grin.
“Are you trying to change the subject?”
“Maybe a little, but mostly I’m trying to hurry shit along so we can get to the good part of today.”
He’s managed to calm me right down; it seems to be one of his specialties. I know exactly where he’s going with this, but I play with him a little. “The good part?”
Playing with Jett is only advisable if you’re ready for a game because he always gives as good as, or better, than he gets, and today is no exception. “The part where you take your clothes off for me so I can make you come over and over,” he says, before placing his mouth to my ear and saying, “and over.” His warm breath sends shivers through me and desire flares in my core.
He doesn’t even have to touch me; it only takes words from him and my body is alive with need. However, just as I’m about to suggest we get out of here, we’re interrupted by a phone call from Tom. Jett doesn’t take his eyes off me as he answers it gruffly, “What’s up?” His hand lazily trails a line down my back, and I shiver again, imagining what that hand will be doing to me soon.
I can’t hear what Tom says but Jett agrees with whatever it is and hangs up. Looking at me with regret, he says, “We’ve gotta go. We’re on a flight back home in six hours.”
“Why?” I’m confused about the sudden change in plans. And a little disappointed I won’t be getting to the good part of this afternoon now.
“Apparently, the record label has managed to set up some promo gigs in Australia, so they want us back home within twenty-four hours.”
I raise my brows. “Just like that?”
He shrugs. “It’s what we do, sweetheart. Things move fast and we go with the flow.”
“Okay, so no sex now, but I’m taking a raincheck. And I don’t even care how exhausted you are when we get home, you’re making good on the promises you’ve been making today.”
Grabbing my hand, he begins to lead me to the door while pulling me close, and he says, “By my rough calculations, I think we’ll be able to find some spare minutes in between getting from here to the hotel to the airport. And you know the things I can do to you in minutes, so I’ll make good on those promises.”
My tummy flutters.
I do know the things he can do to me in minutes.
* * *
We arrive back at the hotel to chaos. Just when it seemed like the band was getting their act together, all hell has broken loose.
“What the fuck has happened?” Jett is livid as he looks between West and Hunter. He got a call from West while we were in the taxi on the way back. Van and Tom were in the middle of an argument, and West was concerned as to where it would end up. He’d put Jett on the phone to Van to try and calm him down but, by the looks of it now, that hadn’t worked.
Tom glances at Jett from where he is by the window in his hotel room. Blood sticks to his face – his face that is now covered in nasty looking bruises and swelling. It’s as if he’s gone a round with a boxer. Spitting into the tissue in his hand, he mutters, “Turns out Van didn’t agree with the decision to go home and when we got into it, he raised some other things he has a problem with.”
Jett’s body is tense and anger is written all over him. “So he thought it was okay to use you as a fucking punching bag?”
Tom tries to speak but his face contorts in pain and he struggles to get the words out. We all watch him until West fills Jett in some more. “Van’s pissed that the label wants us to give up some promo he’s organised to go back and do their stuff instead. He’s also still pissed off at you, and when Tom shared his thoughts that you were right about not changing our sound dramatically, he lost it.”
“How’s Van looking?” Jett asks.
“Nowhere near as bad as Tom but he did take a couple of hits, too. Problem with Tom is that Van knocked him down and he hit the ground fairly hard. I’m concerned it’s caused more than just bruising and swelling.”
“And where the hell is Van now?”
There’s a knock at the door and Hunter leaves us to answer it while West keeps filling us in. “Fuck knows. He took off and said not to wait for him when we head to the airport.”
Jett’s body arches with anger and he grabs the back of his neck. “Jesus fucking Christ!” His wild gaze sweeps the room, taking it all in, and then he turns his gaze back to West. “What the hell is happening to us? Do we even have a band anymore?”
My attention shifts to Hunter who has let a man into the room, a doctor by the look of the bag he is carrying. They’re intent on getting to Tom so we all move to let them through, and a moment later the doctor is assessing Tom. Jett hasn’t calmed down but he’s reined his anger in while waiting to hear what the doctor has to say.
Time seems to drag on while we all wait, and I’m keenly aware time is edging closer to when we need to leave for the airport. Eventually, the doctor gives his verdict. “You’ve got concussion and need to rest. I’d actually recommend you go to the hospital to have it checked out.”
