“You don’t have to worry.” Linda touched my shoulder and her eyes met mine. “Your secret’s safe with me. Frank is a client. It’s my job to keep his public affairs in order and to make him look good. I’m just concerned about you. If this comes out—and trust me, it will—you and your family will take a beating.”
“Why don’t I like the sound of that?” I brought my margarita to my mouth and took a swallow.
“It’s what fame does, dear.”
I dropped my gaze to my drink and stared at the colored liquid for a few seconds, frowning. A clamor arose from the arena, growing louder. It was a wall of noise, a force against my eardrums, the sound of my life as I knew it cracking.
My mind blanked.
“Cassy,” Linda called me out of my daze. “I want to make sure you’re ready for the fallout when things get tough. Your name will be under a lot of scrutiny. Rewired will be under a lot of scrutiny.”
Was Frank worth it? “I understand. I’m ready.” I plastered a smile on my face. It was too late to back out. I’d said something to him today I never thought I would.
He was asleep, Cassy, my voice laughed. It didn’t count.
Sure, it did. It was practice.
“Okay. You have my number.” Linda touched my shoulder again before taking off.
Confused and puzzled, I stood near the bar and sipped on my margarita until my eyes registered Carter’s mop of blond hair moving among the guests. That was my cue to leave.
I returned to the dressing room, where Frank sat in his tall chair facing the mirror. Alone. Head tossed back, palms curled around the slim wooden chair arms, he stared at the ceiling. His knee jerked to the beat of the Iron Maiden song playing in the background.
As I approached him, I drank in his reflection. He was enthralling. A fine combination of what every woman here tonight wanted. Sexy. Confident. Charming. He was the ultimate guy next door who’d made it. Proof that ambition and desire to be the best could take you to the top. He was the American Dream.
I was hardly a social drinker, and the alcohol had already started to course through my blood. A pleasant daze tickled my brain.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, eyes never leaving Frank’s reflection.
“Yes.” He nodded and slid from the chair. His height against mine was an intimidating power. Our gazes collided and I was suddenly aware of his every breath and his every move. Electricity filled the air.
He dipped down and whispered in my ear, “Take off your panties, doll.”
I swallowed hard and watched him walk over to the door to lock it. My head spun. The icy glass chilled my palm.
After making sure no one was going to accidentally walk in on us, Frank turned to face me. “Take them off.” The corner of his lips tilted up.
I felt the burn. Beneath my skin and in my chest. My mind and my ovaries fought one another. I’d already established Frank was far from boring during sex. For a man who was limited with how much weight he could put on his right shoulder, he was creative enough to make me sweat every time. I knew what this was, a less reckless way to get his adrenaline fix. The chances of breaking bones while fucking were sufficiently lower than while riding a motorcycle.
“Are you sure it’s safe to do this before the show?” I croaked, shuffling my feet. The delicate fabric of my Victoria Secret underwear between my thighs dampened. Boy, was I a goner!
He crossed the dressing room and nudged me in the direction of the makeup station. My drink tipped, but he steadied it right before the liquid reached the spilling point. “We’re not going to fuck.”
“We’re not?” I rested my free palm on his pec and started walking backward. His body vibrated under my touch, chest tight like a snare, pulse raging.
“Not until after.” Tossing me a self-serving grin, he took another step and pulled the glass from my grip.
“But you want me to take off my panties now?”
“Yes, because if I do it instead, you won’t have any panties left to wear while you’re watching the show.”
He was playing one of his games. I played along.
“Okay, so this is only temporary? You actually don’t want me to be butt naked all night?” My back hit the makeup station.
“Just for the next ten minutes, baby,” he husked against my cheek and set the drink aside. I heard a faint ragged gasp rushing out of his throat as his fingers fumbled with the skirt of my dress.
My body reacted instantly and want pooled between my legs. I shimmied out of my panties and licked my lips expectantly. My heart drummed in my chest, summoning my body to action.
“That’s my girl.” Frank put his hands on my bare hips and instructed, “Up.”
I propped myself against the makeup station to help him raise me. The doctor’s orders were clear. No heavy lifting. We definitely didn’t want Frank to accidentally pull a muscle or cause damage that would prevent him from performing. This had to be a safe round of preshow sex…or whatever it was that we were about to do.
“You should wear this dress more often,” he said, dropping his face to my shoulder. His lips traced a wet trail across my skin. Hands grabby, he spread my thighs. My skirt slipped between them, covering my sex.
Frank palmed my ass and pulled me toward the edge, thrusting his erection into my center. The fabric of his pants and my dress were in the
