Giving my target a lazy grin, I nudge Aaron behind me, ignoring whatever protest he’s muttering in my ear, and hold out an arm to my open door. “Would you like to see my dressing room?”
Her face brightens, just like I knew it would, and her pretty red lips pull wide in an enthusiastic smile. “I’d love to. You must be Mason. You’re the only one I haven’t met yet.”
“I am,” I confirm. “And I’d love to get a full introduction.”
“Dude,” Aaron mutters over my shoulder.
Once again, I ignore him, following this lovely newbie into my dressing room. Turning, I give Aaron a feral smile, closing the door in his face and cutting off his protest. I’m sure he’s just reminding me that we have to be on stage soon. But I can work fast. And anyway, it’s not like they’ll go on without me.
Since there’s no time to waste, I don’t bother finding out a name I won’t remember in a few seconds anyway, closing the distance between me and those red lips. With one hand sliding under her hair to cup the back of her neck, I get my first taste of those lips. They’re soft and pliant beneath mine, opening when I slide my tongue along their seam, her lush curves melting into my hard chest. Yessss. I let my hands skate down her back, mapping those curves, giving her pert ass a gentle squeeze. There isn’t enough time to explore her thoroughly right now, so I’ll just have to make this convincing enough to keep her here till after the show. Let her watch from the wings. Blaire would have a shit fit if I tried to pull that with her, but she’s not here anymore. And Chad’s all about keeping the talent happy. Plus, he doesn’t mind the extra eye candy I’ve been encouraging to come around more lately.
When my hand slips in the back of her leggings, she stiffens and shoves me away, her pretty blue eyes wide and one hand covering those perfect lips. “What are you doing?” she gasps.
I reach for her, another lazy smile on my lips. “Kissing you. That’s what you came here for, right? Let loose, sleep with a rock star? C’mere and I’ll do it again, though the rest will have to wait till after the show. I’m on in a few minutes.”
She dodges my hand, shaking her head, her hair flying. “I think there’s been a mistake.”
“It doesn’t have to be a mistake,” I cajole. “We’re two consenting adults. No one’s around to know what goes on behind closed doors.”
The deer-in-the-headlights look melts from her face, and she draws herself up to her full height, which isn’t much, but the way she straightens her spine and squares her shoulders tells me she means business.
And suddenly, my gut sinks as something that Aaron said before I closed the door on him assembles itself in my brain.
The puzzle pieces click into place as she says, “No. We are not consenting adults. I do not consent. You have made a mistake. I’m not here to sleep with a rock star. I’m your new assistant. Viola.” She checks the watch circling her slim wrist. “You have to be on stage in six minutes. Do you have everything you need?”
“No,” I grind out, frustrated and irrationally angry. What the hell is going on?
She arches one eyebrow in a look that’s so like Blaire that if I didn’t know better, I’d think they were sisters. “Oh? And what is it that you need? Because from what I overheard, you just got sucked off by a groupie a few minutes ago. I passed her in the hall. I actually tried to introduce myself to you earlier, but when I came by, you were … occupied.” Her words drip with disdain, so like the judgment and contempt I grew up with that I can’t help the way my shoulders draw up tight, my jaw clenching and my anger coalescing in a knot in my stomach.
Deflecting, I thrust a hand at the empty shelf in front of the lit up mirror. “Your job is to keep us all supplied with water and snacks. I had one protein bar and a single bottle of water in here. I need more.”
She surveys me coolly, her arms crossed, pushing her tits up so I get an eyeful of cleavage. Cleavage that I apparently no longer get to touch. Good riddance. If she’s going to treat me like I’m lower than shit, I don’t want her around anyway. Except she’s my fucking assistant, so I’ll have to put up with her. Whatever. As long as she keeps my supplies stocked, we won’t have to interact too much.
“I’ll see to it that you have a full supply of water and snacks,” she says stiffly. So formal. I guess that’s better than screaming vitriol, spit flying, like I got from my dad. “I apologize for the oversight. It’s my first day. I was unaware that you required more.”
I block out the memory of my father, focusing on the present and driving home my point. “The stage lights are hot, and we sweat like pigs out there.” No need to sugar coat anything now, since I clearly have no chance with this chick. I’m not sure I want a chance with her anymore anyway. “We need water. Lots of it.”
She nods again. “So noted. Is that all?”
I give a jerky nod, and she stands staring at me, unmoving. “What?” I growl.
“Could you move, please? You’re blocking the door.”
The asshole part of me wants to stay rooted to the spot, force her to brush past me to get out, make her touch me again, since she so clearly doesn’t want to. But after a long moment where we stare each other down, reason takes over and I step to the side.
She’s gone in three steps, breezing past me
