Encore (Stereo Hearts Book 2) (18 page)

“You’re watching that door like you owe somebody money.” Carmen laughed, tossing her hair over her head. She claimed the golden sunglasses nestled between her breasts and put them on. “I’ve never seen a man so pussy whipped in my life.”

He threw her a tight smile.

“Look.” Carmen nodded towards the table where the older couple sat. “Already taking pictures. You see how she has her camera under the table, angling it towards us? So obvious.”

Yoshi slouched back in his chair. “I suppose you would know all about this, huh?”

“I’ve canoodled with the famous and the
infamous
. So, yeah, you come to learn a lot about people. All people. The celebrities
and
their followers, the kings
and
their minions.” She nodded towards him. “You’ve got that royalty in your blood. The kind that makes people sneak pictures under tables, start conversations about you with the strangers around them….”

Yoshi looked back to the older couple just in time to see that, sure enough, they’d brought their neighboring tables in on the news of his arrival. Now several people were sneaking looks their way.

“It feels different, doesn’t it?” she asked. “From the way you thought it would feel?”

Yoshi squinted at her, lost.

“You see celebrities being followed, photographed, fawned over, worshipped…
and you think, ‘I want that.’ To be loved. To be recognized. Then, when it starts to happen, you slowly begin to see that your life isn’t yours anymore. You start to feel off-kilter. You start fearing for your safety. That’s why I was so surprised that Simon hasn’t gotten you a real security team yet. You’re going to need it, Yosh.”

“You feel unsafe?”

“If I’m doing something mundane—like shopping for eggs—and someone I’ve never met approaches me? Yeah. They know
you
inside out, but you don’t know a damn thing about them. The craziest thing is that they can’t conceptualize that. They feel like, because they know you, you know them too. It’s strange. It’s
scary
.”

“When we landed in Dubai and all those people surrounded us in the terminal…” He made a claw at his gut, squinting out into the water. “For a quick second—”

“You were scared.”

He met her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Get used to that feeling.”

Yoshi held her gaze, then sat up. “I should get back to Aria.”

“How did you two meet?” Carmen asked, just as he was going to stand. “You and Aria?”

He sat back down, slouching again. “We grew up together. Same foster home.”

Her mouth dropped before she popped a piece of watermelon in it, the first piece of food she’d eaten off her plate. “That explains a lot.”

“What does it explain?”

“Why you love her so much.”

He couldn’t help the gentle smile on his face. “I asked her to marry me last night.”

Carmen’s jaw went slack. She went to speak, but nothing came out. Leaning back in her chair, breaking her perpetually straight spine for the first time, she crossed her arms over her chest and chuckled.

“What’s funny?”

“No. Nothing. I was just…” She shot him a look.

He couldn’t see her eyes through her sunglasses, but somehow, he could feel what they held.

She continued. “I was just thinking how nice it must feel to know someone loves you that much. She’s lucky.”

“I’m lucky.”

“How did you do it? If you don’t mind me asking? I’m not trying to be nosey, it’s just… Being an industry whore takes its toll after a while. Hearing sweet proposal stories has a knack for reminding me that not every facet of this life—this
world
—is completely terrible.”

“You’re not a—”

“I’m a whore,” Carmen stopped him. “You don’t have to spare my feelings. I’m aware of the situation. I’m not in denial about it; I’ve accepted it for what it is. No need to pretend you didn’t meet me with my legs spread wide. That you’re not calling me a whore behind closed doors.”

“I would never call you that. Not to your face, or behind your back. I grew up in a house where I was constantly,
constantly,
exposed to the damage that word can do. I don’t believe in that word, and I would never call you that.”

Carmen uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them, looking back towards the ocean again.

“Why do you do it?” he asked. “If it makes you feel bad?”

Her eyes shot back to him. “So you
are
judging me.”

“I see you judging yourself, and I’m just responding to what I see.”

She swirled her crossed leg and back forth.

“I’m just saying, if you’re unhappy about your situation, change it. You’re a beautiful woman…” He motioned to her. “Shit, who am I fooling? You’re exquisite. And you know it too.”

She smirked.

“You could act. You could model…” He faltered. “Do you sing?”

“I can’t sing. I’ve gotten a few acting jobs here or there. Enough to get me recognized every now and again. And modeling…” She guffawed. “Maybe five years ago.”

“Or… right now.”

“I’m flirting with thirty, and thirty is as good as eighty in Los Angeles. The modeling and acting gigs are already drying up. Only a matter of time before my reputation precedes me and even being a whore won’t be enough. But don’t worry; I’m stacking every penny I earn.”

“You’re not a—”

“I’m a
whore.
”

He fell back into his seat. Looking over his shoulder again, he noticed the couples behind them had grown bored of his presence.

“That video that played on Marissa Ball,” she started. “Did your foster parents make you do that? To scrape up a little extra cash?”

Yoshi smiled. “Nah. Our foster mother, Miss May, she was all right. She didn’t beat us or anything. Did what she could. Taught me to play drums. Her worst quality was letting her boyfriend-of-the-moment give us a few ‘love taps’ every now and again, but nobody’s perfect, right?”

“She let them hit you?”

“Sometimes. But I set her house on fire, so it’s all good. We’re square now.”

Carmen made a horrified face.

He shrugged. “She didn’t die or anything.”

The horror on her face doubled.

“The fire trucks got there before any damage was done. And her boyfriend at the time, the one who fucked up Aria’s eye, he didn’t die either. Unfortunately.”

“Well, I knew you were crazy, but I didn’t know you were
fucking
crazy.”

Yoshi laughed. “Nah. Miss May was way too lazy to exploit anybody. The person capitalizing on the cute kid in that video would be my father.”

“He left you?”

“As soon as I got old enough that the shtick wasn’t cute anymore.”

“How old were you?”

“Four. Maybe five.”

“Do you remember the day he left?”

“I do. Vividly. I think it’s my first real memory.”

“The traumatic ones usually are,” she said. “Wow. I knew I saw something in your eye when Marissa played that tape.”

“I thought I did a good job masking it.”

“You didn’t. The audience probably noticed it too, but don’t worry. They don’t just want to see you vulnerable behind the mic. They want to see you vulnerable in your everyday life too. Don’t hide yourself.”

“You should take your own advice. Stop underestimating the power of your own mind. If you keep saying ugly things to yourself, about yourself, calling yourself a whore, you’ll eventually start to believe it. Even if it isn’t true.” He leaned in. “The rest of the world will never stop trying to tear you down. Let them. But don’t ever let that ugliness become real in your own head. Never forget what’s real, Carmen.”

“What’s real?”

“I just told you. Pay attention.” Yoshi shook his head, grinning. “It’s so easy to hear the bad that you forget to hear the good. You’re exquisite.”

Carmen’s lips tightened, and so did the arms she had crossed tight over her chest. She fought a smile.

Yoshi hesitated, and then grabbed his plates. “I gotta get back to Aria.”

That time, she didn’t stop him when he stood. “Have fun fucking.”

“I always do.”

He walked away with both plates in his hands.

A thought occurred to her, and she opened her mouth to call after him, but she clapped it closed before the words came to fruition.

11

The Maldives came and went in a flash, as did the next six months. Turns out, Aria realized, finally sleeping with Yoshi
hadn’t
made everything ten times more complicated, like she’d always believed it would. Now that they were no longer running from their feelings, counting to three every time they were hit with the unbearable urge to kiss, they were free to just be.

Free to write.

Free to sing.

Free to live.

The stage lights warmed her skin, so bright she had to squint against their power. She looked to her right, where the two women she’d spent months rehearsing with bopped along to Yoshi’s final song of the night, providing flawless vocal backing and counter harmonies, showcasing their vast talent just enough to enhance the performance without outshining Yoshi. Aria smiled at them.

The huge crowd in the Paris arena was a beautiful sight, because she knew it was all down to the love of her life. Yoshi had worked his ass off for this. Yoshi had sold those tickets. Yoshi had filled that arena. It was Yoshi’s name on the tongue of every screaming mouth in the house.

The first show of his hundred-city tour—a massive international event that was going to stretch on for a year and a half—and not a single seat went lonely.

Aria had found herself struggling to focus at the start of the show, so busy silently cheering Yoshi on that she’d come very close to missing her
own
cues. One of her fellow background singers had actually been forced to nudge her back into the present during the first song, and Aria hadn’t made that mistake twice.

She was just so damn
proud.

Even if she could only see the back of his head and the spotlights shining through his long legs as he addressed the audience, letting them know it would be the last song of the night. Even if she couldn’t share the stage next to him like she’d always dreamed, or see the look on his face as he finished his first show, she didn’t care. She couldn’t see his face, but she heard it in his voice.

The emotion. After tearing the house down, Yoshi said good-bye to his first sold-out crowd, and his voice trembled as he did.

Aria clutched the mic stand in front of her, eyes teary as she listened to his heartfelt good-bye. She couldn’t help a smile when the spotlights dancing all over the roaring arena flashed against the lime-green string tied around her left finger, illuminating it just as Yoshi turned and met her eyes.

And the first tear raced down her cheek. Before she could stop herself, she was clapping for him, slamming her palms together so hard they began to sting.

“I love you.” His eyes were back on the crowd so quickly that the words he’d just whispered to her would be nearly invisible to the naked eye.

But she’d seen it. Felt it. Drank it in like water.

And, for now, it was enough.

Yoshi moved to the end of the stage, waving good-bye to the left-hand side of the crowd. He did the same for the center and the right-hand side too. Once he’d acknowledged every corner, he raised his hand to the crowd, bouncing sideways towards stage left.

“Paris, France! It’s been a pleasure… This is a dream come true, thank you so much!”

The crowd screamed in agony at his departure. In seconds, a chant took hold and grew like wildfire, until the word “Encore!” filled the arena from wall to wall, and became the only thing that existed.

As he made his way offstage, Yoshi bent down and took a few of the outstretched hands clawing for him.

A zebra-print thong flew through the air, and when it came to its final destination, Aria found herself rocketed back to the words Adam’s girlfriend, Shaun Green, had said to her a year earlier.

There really was nothing worse than seeing another woman’s panties land on top of your boyfriend’s head.

Nothing
.

--

“Yoshi, they’ll hear us…” Aria’s halfhearted fight was lost the instant Yoshi parted her legs and entered her from behind, her wetness making it easy for him to sink inside. She whimpered, clawing her nails into the white leather below her. Just like that, it no longer mattered that they hadn’t completely closed the door to the bedroom at the back of the private plane. It didn’t matter that Phillip, Gus, and Carmen were all in the front—probably pretending not to hear them. Nothing mattered but the cool leather couch brushing her throbbing nipples, the warmth of his gasps in her ear, and the heart-churning feeling of his dick spreading her in the way only he could.

“Fuck…” He buried his head into her neck, hiding the pained frown on his face as he got as deep as he could, digging into the couch cushions on either side of her before beginning a slow pound. His moans matched his ardent thrusts, rising in volume as his hips rose in speed. Soon the back of the plane was alive with the sound of their skin smacking together, the heat of their hushed moans, and the scent of their lovemaking, permeating the air and driving him even harder.

He went into a push-up position, cradled on either side of her naked body, watching her ass bounce as he fucked her, taking thick handfuls of the red throw pillows on either side of her when he felt his orgasm building.

Collapsing onto her back, he whispered that his release was near, reaching between her body and the couch and sliding his hand down her stomach until his fingers were brushing her slippery clit. Only when she was screaming into the leather below her did he allow himself to finish, firing shot after shot into her slickness as he circled her throbbing bud, hoping she would be right on his heels.

She was. Her orgasm stole her scream, the way it always did, and she lifted her hips involuntarily, taking his dick even deeper into her folds just as they tightened with the evidence of her release.

He reached out and grabbed the curved glass cocktail bar situated next to the couch. If it weren’t bolted to the floor, his fierce hold would’ve sent it toppling over. He jammed his eyelids shut at the incredible pleasure of her walls hugging him, burying his head into her hair, letting it collect every scream that split his lips as they finished together. Jerking, pushing, clawing at anything they could get a grip on—the bar, the cup holders, even the coffee table—the couch nearly came unhinged, joining her overturned purse and their clothes scattered on the plane’s floor.

“Why is it so hard for us to get a shred of work done anymore?” she breathed once they’d collapsed on the couch, spent and trying to collect their breath. She could hardly breathe as he laid all his weight on her, but it was worth the loss of oxygen. “One minute we’re writing a new song and the next….”

“You know what happens to my dick when it hears you singing my words back to me.”

“I’ve been singing your words back to you since we were in grade school.”

“And you have no idea how many socks I ruined in that house on account of you.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t know. Like my penis wasn’t the first one you ever saw. You think I was whipping that thing out for shits and giggles? I was trying to get you interested, baby. Show you what you were missing.”

She guffawed. “The only reason I knew what your penis looked like was because you offered to show it to me, and when I responded with disgust, instead of keeping your dick in your pants like a gentleman, you bribed me with bubble mint gum. You bribed me to look at your dick.”

“But did you take the gum?”

She pretended not to hear that. “That was basically indecent exposure at age seven. I could’ve had you arrested.”

“But you took the gum, right? So you were basically a working girl at age seven. I could’ve had you arrested too.”

“Get your dick out of me right now.”

He laughed into her hair. “Never.”

“Mmmm…” If she had more fight, she couldn’t find it, a Cheshire Cat smile on his lips. “Okay, then.”

“You should feel blessed to have experienced my anaconda at age seven.”

“The word anaconda is super ambitiou—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

“I mean, when you were seven.” She giggled. “That word would’ve been ambitious. Now?” She wiggled her ass from where he was still deep inside her, grinning when he moaned painfully. “Now the word anaconda is very, very appropriate. Perhaps even an understatement.”

“That’s better.”

She heard the pout in his voice. “Can we please stop discussing your penis size at age seven? It’s beginning to feel pedophilic.”

He stayed inside her until he felt himself on the verge of sleep. Regrettably, he left her, holding the small of her back as he pulled out, tossing the condom just as she pushed herself up to her forearms. Her bare ass wiggled as she waved her legs through the air, toes pointed. She lifted her eyes up to his.

“Seriously,” she pouted, kicking him with her bare foot when he returned to the couch. She giggled when, in the midst of sitting back down, he caught her foot and yanked her to him. “We have to learn how to control ourselves if we’re ever going to get any work done.”

He used his strength to pull her onto his lap, instantly taking one of her nipples between his teeth, biting softly.

She dug her fingers into his hair. “We couldn’t even control ourselves long enough to close the door. I’m sure they all just heard us.”

“You just make me so fucking crazy,” he grumbled. “I can’t think one straight thought when you’re lying around, naked.”

“But I
wasn’t
naked. I was lying on the couch in jeans and a tank top. Then you attacked me with your hard-on.”

He pulled back, meeting her eyes. “Aria. Understand something. Now that I know what you look like naked? You’re always naked.”

She went to refute, but he jumped in. “When I look back at you onstage, singing behind me in that black leather outfit? You’re naked. When you’re at sound check in a T-shirt dress? Naked. Across the table during after-show dinner? Naked. Walking, talking, breathing, existing? You. Are. Naked. You are always naked, and that’s why I can’t get a lick of work done.”

“So I guess my perpetual nakedness is going to be responsible for the downfall of the fastest-growing artist in pop music history?”

“That, or my next album is going to be very…” He retook her nipple, sucking softly. “Very…” He did the same with the other, then groaned. “X-rated.”

She gave him a look when he swirled his hips against hers, hardly able to believe what she felt against her backside. “
Seriously
?”

“I need you so bad…” He ground his dick, hard again, against her ass, biting his lip.

She pushed away from him. The truth was she was
exhausted
. Even with The White Keys, the first show of the tour always left her on edge and unable to sleep. Now that she was the girlfriend of the fastest-growing pop star in the world, however, with bras and panties in every assorted color being launched at him nightly, Aria knew she couldn’t deny Yoshi.

Not that she wanted to.

But damn, was she dog-tired.

When he bit his bottom lip, looking up at her with those big eyes, she rolled her own and pushed off his lap, standing. “Fine, but at least let me close the door.”

Crossing the room, she got the door shut all the way and locked it for good measure just before he came up behind her and pressed her against the glossy white door.

When he entered her that time, she made no effort to stay quiet, screaming her pleasure into the wood, dragging her nails into it and clawing them down as they fucked for the second time that morning.

--

“Yoshi, to your left!”

“Yoshi, to the right!”

“Yoshi, straight ahead, please!”

His eyes darted from camera to camera, never resting on one lens for longer than a second. Never squinting against one flash for more than a fleeting glance. A smirk lifted his lips at the press photographers’ never-ending string of demands, all shouted in British accents. Even as he did his best to glance at every camera, the screams and requests only grew more fervent. From the corner of his eye, he saw Carmen’s head moving back and forth as well, hanging from his arm in a tight red mini dress. She’d donned blonde extensions for the evening, straight as an arrow, and so long it bushed against his forearm where his hand wrapped around the small of her back.

He shot her a quick look just in time to see her doing the duck face she loved. Her Instagram was chock full of pictures donning that exact expression. At first, he’d found it utterly ridiculous, but as the days went on, he couldn’t lie, it became more and more adorable to him. He made a mental note to give her shit about it as soon as they got backstage.

He turned and moved down the red carpet, just a few feet, taking her with him. He drank in the MTV Europe Video Music Awards banner serving as their backdrop. When he came to a stop that time, Carmen stepped in closer.

He stiffened when she draped her arm around his waist with one hand and cupped his arm with the other, curling her manicured nails around the sleeve of his burgundy suit.

“Can we see a kiss, Carmen?”