Bad Beats: A Rock-Star Step-Brother Romance (23 page)

“Boss, storms passing,” Jace points out.

We all stare out the window.

He’s right. A sudden stillness has replaced the lashing winds.

I slip my arm around Cadie’s waist.

Let the games begin.

Cadie

“You can’t arrest me, I’m a rock-star.”

-Sid Vicious

My phone buzzes and I glance down. Jagger has sent a text informing me our bathrooms are camera free zones and the only places we can be assured of complete privacy. Shag glances down at his, and I assume he’s reading something similar.

We don’t say anything. Masters is in the front of the golf cart with Omar.

He swivels around to face us. “Glad you two are okay. Now that the
cat
is out of the bag. We need to decide whether we should make your relationship public or cut some of that footage. Cadie, are you ready to be our wildcard?”

I want to tell him to ‘fuck off’ so darn bad. How dare he sit there and act like it’s all a big shocker. I’m not sure how to play this one.

“How would that work?” I ask instead.

“We’d show your reaction to Shag and Lila’s kiss and you running off. Brian Seacrest would extend a backstage pass to you, adding you to the remaining contestants. The audience could then vote for you, as could Shag and the judges.”

I can’t help myself. He knows I’m aware of the voting scheme. “You can’t be serious. I haven’t forgotten you control the final votes. The fans aren’t the ones picking the winner, you are. Right?”

“What if I promised to leave it up to the public from this point forward, no matter what the results? Would that change things?”

“Shag?” I turn to look at him.

“Personally, babe. I want you in there. You’ve won my vote.”

“Fine. I’ll play,” I concede with a smile, eager to make Masters look like the fool he is.

“Fantastic!”

“I need to call my dad, though. I don’t want him to see this without a warning.”

That’s right, Mr. Big Shot Director, explain why I can’t call home.

“That might be a problem. We’re working on things, but if you haven’t noticed, there have been some technical issues with global communication.”

All I can do is nod. If I open my mouth, I’m going communicate very concisely my opinion about his blatant lie. The good news: his reaction is evidence William did not inform him about our recent conversation, and I can’t help but think Jagger has been giving us some added privacy. Masters is obviously unaware of our patio discussion with Omar and William.

Sensing my struggle to stay calm, Shag gives my knee a warning squeeze.

“Well, you need to figure it out. I’m sure he’s worried,” I add for good measure.

“I’ll see what I can do. I don’t want family upset with me,” he says, sounding sincere. If I didn’t know better, I would have believed him.

Once we’re back inside the villa, I head straight for my bathroom, Shag on my heels.

I shut the door and turn to him. “I don’t care what Jagger says. Our sex life is our sex life. I say we bore the audience to sleep.”

Shag cocks his head and gives me his best puppy dog face. “But I want sex.”

Giggling, I yank off my top. “I never said anything about not having sex, only that the world doesn’t need to watch. Crap. I wonder how much they can actually show. Have they seen everything we’ve done?”

“Babe, I’m pretty sure they can show all of it on the webisode. Cable isn’t far behind. And you know me, I’m a kinky fuck. I don’t like the idea of other men seeing what’s mine, but the other part of me kind of gets off on showing you off. We’re pretty fucking hot together. Let’s watch one of the episodes and see what the viewers get to see at home.”

The bathroom is huge; its counter long. We hop up and sit on it, leaning our backs against the mirror. It takes only a few seconds to find link after link to all things
Roping a Rock-Star
. Photos, commentaries, and anything else you can imagine about our program is a mouse click or screen tap away. We are by far the hottest thing trending.

As someone who avoids being center stage, I’ve been thrust into a role I never wanted, but over the past two weeks, here on Jagger’s island, I have come to accept that as Shag’s other half I will be on the stage of public opinion. There is no way around it. Shag is a celebrity like no other. He makes people want to know more. As much as I first disliked him, I’d always been interested in his life. Now that I love him, I understand how much more there is to him, far more than I ever believed. His love for lighthouses is one thing I’m still shocked by.

It hits me, we’ve never truly said, in all seriousness, ‘I love you’ to each other.

Maybe it’s time.

“Shag…?”

“Just a minute. Almost got us signed up as official
Roping a Rock-Star
subscribers.”

“Stop. Look at me, please.”

He lowers his phone and turns his chocolate eyes on me. “Uh oh. You sound serious. Are you going to slap me again?”

How can I not laugh at that?

Regaining control, I continue, “Do I need to slap you again? Wait. Don’t answer. I need to say this. Shag Steal, I love you. As you would say: I fucking love you.”

His eyes widen and his hand curls around my neck, pulling my mouth to his. The kiss is gentle and sweet and surprisingly short.

“And I fucking love you, Cadie O’Shea. You’re it for me. I think I knew it that first night when you were ignoring me from the front row. From that moment forward, my mind was stuck on you alone. Yeah, I tried to fight it. You can see how well that worked out. Can’t fight fate.”

This time it is me who instigates the kiss. When we finally break apart, he slides off the counter and pushes my legs apart, taking up residence between them. Planting his palms on the mirror, caging me in between his big arms, he says the sweetest thing.

“I don’t wanna watch our tapes yet. I want to be in the moment. This moment. In you. I want your legs around my back and your arms around my neck while I show you just how much I fucking love you.”

My rock-star knows what I need to hear. That was it.

We make quick work of removing our clothes. Kissing, grabbing, and panting. At last we’re both naked and my legs are where he wants them; my arms are around his neck; his tongue is tangled with mine; and his cock is buried in my pussy.

Yanking me to the counter’s edge, he lifts me up, spinning us around, and pushing my back against the nearest wall, making me shudder. He fucks me like that, right against the bathroom wall, hard, deep, and fast. I cling to him, letting him thrust into me like a pile driver, breaking concrete.

I shatter around him, screaming his name when I come.

Spreading my ass cheeks wider, he lifts me up, moving me like I weigh nothing. He plows into me, hips pistoning.

He bites on my neck and sucks, erupting inside me, filling my womb. My own orgasm has me quaking in his arms. I don’t know if it’s one long climax or a second one on the heels of the first. What I do know is I’m ready to pass out from pleasure.

“Fuck, Cadie Cat. I think I gave you a hickey. Didn’t mean to go all vampire.”

Releasing my legs, I slide down and land unsteadily on my feet. “Good, I’ll show it off for the cameras tomorrow.”

“How about tonight? There’s no way I’m dragging those clothes back on. I’m gonna pick your sexy ass up and carry you to bed. I’m sure the sound equipment picked up some of our…”

I kiss him quiet. “Fine. Take me to bed, handsome.”

After a quick rinse in the shower, Shag does exactly what he promised. He carries me across the room, naked and proud; giving our viewers what I believe is the final peek into our sex life.

I’m not sure how Jagger expects things to go down tomorrow, but enough is enough. This programming is about to be terminated. Bonuses be damned. I won’t put a price on my love for Shag.

* * *

Shag

I wake up desperate to feel Cadie’s silky skin pressed against me. Last night’s words play through my mind: I love you, Shag Steal.

Love you too, babe.

I’m rock hard and want to slide into her slick heat and show her just how much I love her. Instead, I force an eyelid up; what I felt was missing is confirmed. Cadie is gone. In her place, on her pillow, is a note.

Meet us for breakfast, on the patio.

Us?

Who is us?

Following a quick rinse in the shower, I pull on a pair of jeans and find a clean button down shirt, leaving it open, exposing my tattooed chest and torso. Our guests better not expect a formal appearance. I’m not in the mood. My morning alone-time with my girl was interrupted. Something I don’t appreciate. Someone has some explaining to do.

I step out the double glass doors and the first thing I notice is the crowd. I knew they were coming but this isn’t how I envisioned our first meeting.

A second table has been brought in from somewhere and is set up next to our usual one. My band mates are around the new table, Chloe in tow. My mom and Cadie’s dad are seated with her and Jagger at the other table. Omar and Jace lean against the rock wall, surveying the scene. Drew and Bo are out in the yard, guarding us, I guess, while propped in two lawn chairs, plates in hand.

Chloe spots me first and smiles and then waves.

What the hell?

I get it. She’s smiles and giggles, imagining my demise. She’s hoping she will witness my ultimate fall from grace live rather than on TV or her computer. Won’t she be surprised when it is her that falls?

Jagger told us to act natural, so I give her my best sneer and glare combination. She wilts in her seat and stares down at her hands. Slyder notices but does nothing to provide comfort.

There’s an empty place setting and chair by Cadie. I greet my band first, feeling oddly uncomfortable around them. I break away quickly and then move to join her. I’m not sure if this is all part of ‘the plan’ or what, and I have no idea how to act.

“Good morning.” Cadie smiles. She looks radiant, dressed in flowing floral blouse and white capris, her hair down.

Giving her a grin and wink, I look down at my plate. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a scone; someone has been busy this morning. Cadie hates to cook, so I doubt it was her. Our surprise chef appears from the same doors I just walked through, shocking me.

“Everyone like the food?” Robin asks, some strange guy peering over her shoulder.

The affirmative responses are unanimous.

“Delicious,” Jagger adds. “May I help in some way?”

Robin tilts her head. “You sitting there and enjoying my cooking helps.”

Oh hell.
Jagger’s got his hands full with this one. I wonder if he kissed her hand too. I glance his way and am surprised to see his face is flushed.
Oh double hell.
It’s another love connection, but who is the dude behind her?

Cadie stands up. “You all know my best friend, Robin. That character behind her is the other BFF, Josh. And don’t let Robin fool you. Josh is the real chef.”

I guess I missed a few things when I was lost in dreamland. My girl and her friend must have put their differences aside and decided to move forward.
Thank God.
I’ll never admit it, but I was getting burned out listening to Cadie complain about her former friend. From what I can see, Robin is sober. Granted it’s early, but that never mattered before…another good sign.

“Cadie,” Robin scolds. “Now Mr. Hewitt knows I can’t cook.”

Jagger laughs. “Mr. Hewitt can hire his own cook. I’d rather have a pretty lady to enjoy the meal with.”

“Oooooh…,” the twins’ chorus, making me feel more at home. These are my people. My band. There is no reason for me to be all jumpy.

That’s not exactly true. I am operating by the seat of my pants right now, unsure what’s coming next. Worse, everyone has probably witnessed me and Cadie working away on our shagging numbers. I fucking hope our parents didn’t watch. Just the thought makes me ill. Maybe they felt the same and avoided the hype.

What number was last night anyway? Thirty-nine or Forty?

Robin and Josh deliver more food before taking the last two empty seats at my table.

Jagger stands. “Good morning and welcome to my corner of the Caribbean. Sorry about the inclement weather last night. We get an occasional storm, but we are free and clear now, and you’re all here safe and sound.

Mr. O’Shea was worried about his daughter, understandably, and reached out to me via an email. Shortly after, Shag’s mother did the same. Naturally, I can’t have worried family and friends upset with me. Crude Element was due to arrive in two days, so I thought, why not get everyone here at once.”

Stix makes his approval known, “Great idea, Mr. Hewitt. Must be the reason you own an island and I play drums.”

Jagger chuckles. “I hope you’re not insinuating that being a drummer isn’t important. Music is a passion of mine, but I am nothing but a wannabe rock-star. No amount of money could make me a musician.”

A gold golf cart catches everyone’s attention as it races across the villa’s freshly mowed grass; the whirring sound it makes precedes its arrival. Calvin Masters, Simon Crabs, and good ole’ boy, William, are its sole passengers. I can’t wait to see what brings the director, main producer, and Rogue Beat Records’ future CEO to our gathering.