Billy Jeffers: Rockers of Steel (24 page)

“No, but I think you and I have a couple more things to talk about.”

“Like …?”

“Well …” I point to the bed. “Do you mind?”

“I would love for you to help me up so I can use the bathroom first.”

“Of course.”

I help her up, and she is stiff as hell. She has been babying it, and that’s going to hurt worse tomorrow than if she pushed herself.

When she comes out, she throws a black robe that has the BB logo on it around her.

I hear her stomach growl, and she holds her hand over it.

I want to ask if she has gotten her period, but I can find that out for myself.

“Have you had dinner?”

“What time is it?”

“Not much past nine.” I hold my wrist up and realize I left my watch on the counter in the bathroom.

“No, I’m fine. But if you are hungry, Mrs. Steel made some sort of Italian wedding soup and brought it over.”

“She’s a great cook. I’ll have some if you do.”

She rubs her butt and sighs. “Fine.”

“Have you been in bed all day?” I ask as we walk down the hall.

“Since the ass incident, yes.”

“Have you taken an anti-inflammatory?”

“I took something at, like, six.”

“Okay, we need to find out what it was and when you can have more.”

The kitchen is bright and crisp. The cabinets are white, and the finish appears aged. The appliances are all stainless, and the walls are a burnt orange.

Madison reaches up into one of the cupboards and whimpers.

“Let me.” I reach for the bowls.

“Crocks.” She points. “I like soup in crocks.”

Once I grab them, she walks away, rubbing her butt. She then grabs a pot and sets it on the gas range.

“The microwave broke?”

“No, but the microwave makes food taste bad.”

All right, then.

I go to the refrigerator and grab out the pot that sits in the front. “This it?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She opens the drawer next to her and takes out a ladle, and I lift the top off the pot. She sets it down and draws four scoops out of it and puts it in the pan on the stove.

“All set?”

“Yep.” She puts the top back on, and I return it to the fridge.

When I turn around, she is rubbing her ass again with one hand and stirring the soup with the other while rolling her neck.

I walk over behind her and put my hands on her shoulders. “Tell me if it hurts.”

I knead her muscles and make circles with my thumb into her skin, working my way from her outer shoulder and up her neck.

Her little moans make it almost impossible to stop myself from thinking about fucking her, but she did take one hell of a spill, and I did have something to do with it.

She looks back at me. “Feels good.”

“I’m glad.” I lean over her other shoulder and inhale the scent of the soup and Madison. “That smells good, too.”

She opens the drawer beside her and grabs a spoon, scoops up a little, and lifts it to my mouth. “How does it taste?”

I take what she’s offering. The broth is chicken; the tiny little breaded meatballs were perfectly prepared. The pastina pasta and the spinach mixed with whatever spices were added, are amazing. “Delicious.”

She leans back against me, and I end up wrapping my arms around her and helping her stir.

“Do you like to cook?” she asks.

“I did when I was younger. My mom baked a lot. It’s a wonder I wasn’t a fat kid.” I smile down at her.

“I was always too busy running around and annoying Memphis to cook very often.”

“Old habits die hard, huh?” I smirk, and she elbows me and smiles.

“Now, I really like it. It’s relaxing.”

Madison was right when she said I have wanted her since the day I saw her. She was feisty, sassy, tough, and sexy. I wanted to tame her, but not in a sexual way, more in a
My Fair Lady
type of way.

“Do you know who Audrey Hepburn is?” I ask.

“Yep, she was in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
.” She looks up at me curiously.

“She was also in
My Fair Lady
. Have you ever watched it?”

She nods and narrows her eyes at me.

I can’t help laughing as I prepare myself for another elbow.

“You are not even a little funny,” she says then starts to snicker. “Such an ass.”

“When I saw you in Florida that very first time, I thought,
Damn, she is a young Audrey Hepburn
.”

“Aw.” She smiles.

“Then all of the sudden, you’re Memphis’s sister and a little more Eliza Doolittle.”

“
Pft
,” she says, shaking her head.

“The dresses got shorter and so did the way you spoke to me, and I hated the fact that I still pictured you how I saw you the very first time.”

“And what, you saw yourself as Higgins?”

“No, I didn’t see me as anything, Madison. I saw the Audrey under the Eliza, and it scared the hell out of me.”

“What do you see now?” she asks, looking away and turning off the burner, causing me to step back.

I shrug. “I see you.”

“And …?”

“Your flaws, your strengths, your intelligence, the walls you put up.”

“Can I point out that you also have walls?”

“You have, and I accept it. My coming here and accepting what you are offering is a huge step for me.”

She scoops the soup into the crocks then walks over to the small table in the corner.

“I would say it’s more a gift to me.” She sits, cringing when she does.

“I like you, Madison. I like you and have a serious”—I don’t know how to call it anything but what it is—“affliction for you.”

She looks up. “I have never been called a disease before.”

I sit next to her. “It is. I’m drawn to you. I just want you to know that.”

I see her trying not to smile, and then she looks at me.

“So you love my tits, but you are afflicted by my …?”

“Love comes and goes.” I shrug. “Love changes. This hasn’t.”

I’m pretty sure Billy just kind of told me in his own way that he loves me. Okay, maybe not love. I am stretching there.

The girl in me wants to run and do cartwheels and call her best friend and scream,
He likes me
! He circled YES. He felt something the first time he saw me, just like I did him.

The young woman in me is trying to be rational. He loves my tits. He looks at me like he wants to devour me one second and scold me the next. He is a little possessive in the way he doesn’t want the boys around me. He thinks I’m beautiful. But the thing that makes me happiest is that Billy Jeffers trusts me and wants to talk to me. Even better than that, I feel the same way.

“You aren’t hungry?” he asks.

“I’m something,” I say, trying not to break out into song.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m an affliction.”

He chuckles and looks at me. “You, Madison Black, certainly are.”

“So, what does this mean?” I ask, staring at my soup and stirring it.

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Not what I was looking for, but it will work.

He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. He has that look: eyebrows furrowed, distant, deep in thought.

“Okay, so you said you needed me in that message; was it so you could call me a disease, check on my ass, or eat my soup?”

“All of that, but I also want to ask your opinion on a few things.”

I beam. “I feel important.”

“Clearly, you are to me.”

Clearly?

“All right, let me have it.”

He runs his hand through his hair. “We watched the rest of the auditions after you left.”

He stops, and I nod as I take a bite.

“Penelope was one of them.”

I swallow the soup in my mouth as we stare at each other.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Neither did I. I need to get everything else off my plate before dealing with that, but I was blindsided today, and I didn’t want you to be, as well.”

“They decided she was one of the finalists for the live auditions?”

“Unanimously and she is so damn good. She deserves it.”

“I’m sorry, Billy.” I lean across the table and take his hand.

“I appreciate it. I also want your opinion on how to disperse the money to the investors.”

“That’s totally up to you, but Memphis should be last.”

“Xavier called me into the office today, and I think we may have a problem.”

“A problem?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘Do you think Memphis will be more upset about you banging his sister or breaking her ass?’ ”

“Oh. My. God!
He did not!
”

I chuckle. “Yes, he did.”

“How? What...? How?”

“Apparently, he saw the exchange in the conference room.”

I pull my hand away and cover my mouth. “I will never be able to look at him again.”

“Truly, he’s done worse. Don’t let that bother you. When we do this campaign, and it goes live, I am pretty sure Memphis will figure it out, which leads me back to telling you I wanna pay them back first. The others can wait until the apartment sale is final.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want them to know. I don’t want them to look at me the way I look at my father.”

“They know your character. They know you. The only one at Forever Four who has any reason to think you’re an ass is now banging you.” I smile.

“If I am going to be in a relationship with you publicly, I don’t want them to know.”

Relationship? Hell yes!

I shrug. “I will do whatever you want.”

“And that is a damn good thing.” He stands up and takes his bowl to the sink. “I am going to contact a lawyer tomorrow to help me sort out the issue with the business my father swindled me into.”

“I’m glad.” I stand up and take my bowl to the sink. I can’t finish it. I’m freaking out inside.

“Do you mind if I stay for a bit? Just until you fall asleep?”

“Of course I don’t.”
Please, please, please stay!

He takes my hand and turns off the lights as we leave the kitchen.

I am having the biggest party a girl can have inside her head. I want to scream and dance, and I am grinning from ear to ear when he looks back and catches me.

“Oh, Madison, you will definitely entertain me.”

We walk into my room, and he drops my hand and walks into the bathroom. He comes back out with a cup of water and some pills.

“Take these.”

“Thank you.”

“Now climb in bed so I can look at you and see how I can help.”

I climb in and force myself to lie on my back, deciding broken ass be damned. He is afflicted, and I am the happiest girl in the world.

“Roll over.”

I roll over, laughing while doing so.

The bed dips down next to me and he asks, “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking, if we’re going to try anal, tonight is probably not the best time to do that.”

His jaw clenches, and the muscles pop in it. “Good to know.”

Dear God, the way he is looking at me is pure sin.

“What’s good to know?” I ask as he slowly starts pulling my underwear down.

“That anal is on the table.”

“No!” I giggle. “It was a joke, like ha-ha…” I am unable to finish the third ha as I feel his lips pressing against my ass cheek.

“You’re bruised pretty badly.” His voice is low and thick. He kisses me again, this time the other cheek. “I’m going to make you nice and relaxed before you fall asleep. Then, when you do, I’m going to leave and lock the door behind me.”

“Stay,” I whisper as his hands clamp the back of my thigh, and he moves them up slowly.

“We have a long road ahead of us still, Madison.” He leans down, kissing my buns again. “Let’s focus on moments like these.”

Swoon!

His fingers work magic, and as hard as I try not to fall asleep, I do.

“I broke my ass, and you’re not even home.” I pout purposely at my mother via Skype at work the next day.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” She giggles.

“No, don’t be. I think I’ll survive.” I place the back of my hand on my forehead and give her a dramatic sigh.

She snickers and sits back, taking a sip of her coffee and smiling. “I have to ask a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How upset would you be if I were thinking maybe I would stay here for another month or more?” She cringes.