Viola opens the door and freezes, her eyes tracking down my bare chest and torso, her ruby lips parted in … shock? Desire? Some combination of both? I’d be happy if it were more the latter than the former.
Slowly, I put my shirt over my head, smirking as she seems to startle out of a trance as I pull the fabric down my torso. “Did you need something?” I ask.
Her gaze snaps up to meet mine, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “Uhhh … no. No, I’m good. I was just, uh, seeing if you need anything.”
“Actually, yes. There is something you can do for me.” My dick twitches at the thought of the many, many things I’d like her to do for me, but that’s not what I’m getting at. Not right now, anyway.
“Oh?” she asks, a little breathless. “What’s that?”
“Pick a club for tonight. I want to go out.”
Her face falls at that. “Alright. I’ll contact the hotel concierge and book you a private room. And I’ll let Dave know.”
She whirls away and is gone before I can correct her misconception. I could chase after her and set things straight, but a private room with just her? Might not be so bad.
Chapter Eighteen
Viola
Fuming, I stomp my way back to the greenroom, phone in hand as I contact the concierge to get a list of clubs that cater to celebrities.
I thought this was all behind us. I thought Mason wasn’t out to torture me and make my life difficult.
I guess I should be grateful he’s doing it when we have a rest day scheduled for tomorrow, but still.
I don’t want to stand around till the wee hours of the morning watching him get blowjobs from groupies. I’ve gotten used to the low-key groupie-free lifestyle we’ve had going on. He’s had a few in his dressing room, but …
My steps slow as I wait for the concierge to email me the information I’ve requested, my mind whirling. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen a groupie enter or exit Mason’s dressing room.
Racking my brain, I try to remember exactly how long. Was it in Chicago? Or Minneapolis?
It all runs together at this point. The only reason I know we’re in Vancouver is because I’ve seen it written on the schedule. All I’ve seen are hotel rooms and the bowels of the venues we play.
My phone alerts with a new email and I put Mason and his sex life out of my mind as I start going through the list. Fortunately, I only have to call three clubs before I find one with an open room for Mason and company tonight.
Turning on my heel, I go in search of Dave.
We get to the club and follow the hostess through the back entrance up to the private room, me underdressed as always in my all black backstage leggings, tank, and comfortable flats. But when we get to the room, I’m confused. I take in the black leather couches, the low tables, the ice bucket of champagne and bottles of liquor waiting for us just as I requested. But there are no people.
Turning to Mason, my brow furrowed, I flap my hand at the empty space. “What’s going on?”
His hands in his pockets and a devilish smile flirting with his mouth, he shrugs. “You’re the one who ordered all this. You tell me.”
Sighing in frustration, I cross my arms and cock my hip. If I start tapping my toe, I’ll be the spitting image of my mother waiting for an explanation. “This is what you always want when you go to a club. I called and requested your normal requirements as soon as you told me you wanted to go out tonight. But you’re the one who handles filling the room with people. Where is everyone?”
He makes a show of looking around the room, his biceps flexing under the sleeve of his faded T-shirt as he rubs a hand over his jaw. I can’t hear the rasp of his stubble because of the music playing, though it’s quieter in here than in the hallway or on the dance floor. We could make it just as loud if we wanted to. The hostess showed us where the volume control for the speakers is. Personally, I prefer it like this. At least for now.
When there are people fucking everywhere, the loud music mercifully covers the wet, sloppy noises.
But there are no people here. Other than us. So there will be no fucking in this room.
There’s a click behind me, and I turn to see that Dave has vanished. He must’ve decided to stand sentry in the hallway. Maybe he knows who’s supposed to show up and when?
I hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “Why is Dave outside? He normally waits with me in here to keep an eye on you while you party.”
Mason finally returns his attention to me, dropping his hand and shrugging again. “I just said I wanted to go out. I didn’t say I wanted a whole crowd of strangers with me. You just assumed this was what I wanted. You never let me finish.”
My arms drop along with my jaw. “What?”
“I told you to pick a club. I wanted to go out with you. I’m tired of being a good little church boy who’s home by nine every night. I got my fill of that life as a kid. I wanted to go out and have some fun. The other guys won’t come out with me, because two of them have kids.” He tilts his head back and forth. “Marcus and Kendra probably would’ve come if I’d asked, actually, but being the third wheel sucks. Which is why your boy Dave went out in the hallway.”
I look over my shoulder then back at Mason. “What?” I repeat, feeling dumber by the second.
Mason chuckles, the quiet sound filling me up with tingles.
This isn’t what I need right now. After coming face to
