Reckless Love: A Billionaire Baby Steamy Fantasy Multicultural Love Story Rockstar Romance (12 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Jasmine

“Your phone’s doing something,” Kerry said absentmindedly, handing Jasmine the offending device, as she read her book.
“Thanks.” She looked to see a text from Leo.
What was he doing, texting her again? Did he want a blowjob?
She wondered wryly.  She scanned the words.
Wow, he wasn’t letting up. I wonder if he’s realized that he butt-dialed me?

“Anything important?” Kerry asked, her nose still buried in her book.
Jasmine looked at the message again, then turned off the screen. “No, nothing important. Nothing important at all. You want coffee?”

“No thanks,” Kerry said.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Origin of Species minus Leo, the Quartet plus Leo

The next few days were a whirlwind. Press junket, tour bus, rehearsal, radio, setup, breakdown, after parties.

Leo was losing steam.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m fucking sick of this country,” he said.
After all everyone’s accent reminded him of Jasmine, and since she hadn’t bothered to take even a moment to return his text, he figured she was trying to forget him. He might as well do the same.
“It’s ridiculous.” He held up the burger they had picked up. Its bun opened away soggily from the patty like a dullard’s mouth. “Is this supposed to be food?”

They laughed, and then turned their attention to teasing him.

“You’ve had a lot of babes on tour, but… What did you do to that blonde opening night, Kerr?” said Riff, laughing. “When she left she went like a bat out of hell! Did you stick it up the wrong hole or somefing?”

“Har har,” Leo answered drily. “I’d answer, but I know it’s best not to encourage ruffians such as yourselves.”

"Well whatever you did, teach me," Nigel piped up. He was laying down, sunglasses on, in the top sleeping compartment of the sleek tour bus. Only his feet were visible from the main “room” where they sat, Scarface playing silently on the TV, the sound off. "I couldn't get rid of mine. She hung about til the wee hours, when all I wanted to do was fuck and sleep.
Alone
,” he emphasized.
"Good point," said Riff. "Perhaps Leo could teach us his masterful ways to get rid of women. He's apparently an expert."
Leo's anger flared. "Nigel's quite good at chasing off women," he said. "As long as he's not the one who invited them around."

“Now now,” Riff said mildly as Nigel hung his slender torso off the upper bunk to get a better look at Leo – his sinewy arm muscles bulging.

“You still mad, mate? Look, if you really like her what have you done about it? You haven’t done anything, have you. A few measly texts, I imagine? You’re a bloody billionaire, mate. You have all the power in the world. If you’re sick of this country, we have a few days between concerts. Fly home for a day or two. Go see her. Take her out again. How long has it been since you really liked someone anyway? Have you completely forgotten what you’re bloody doing when it comes to women? Christ on a bike, Leo. You can whine all you want about our misunderstanding but if you cock this up it’s on you.” He leaned back up into the compartment. “Pass me one of those burgers, would you?”

Riff got up and passed him a crinkled bag of fast food. “You know, the lunatic makes a good point,” he said finally, gently. “Leo Wellington-Kerr should be able to get any woman he wants. Especially right now. You’re part of a, dare I say it, top-notch rock band. You’ve just written a hit single. You’re on top of the world, mate.”

Leo pretended to ignore them but the first chance he had, he put a call into the family private jet, and made a reservation. Nigel was right. He had resources others didn’t. If he didn’t bother, it would be entirely his fault.

Later that day he made the announcement.

“Well, I’ve decided to take the advice of my esteemed colleague, Nigel Gwillimbury, and go back to the UK for a short jaunt,” He said coolly, running his hand through his hair in studied nonchalance. “I’ll meet you guys in the Bay area in two days. I trust you can make it through the next while without me?”

Only one of them looked up. “Sure thang,” drawled Riff, with a clumsy attempt at an American accent. Nigel smirked.

“When do you leave?” he said.

“I’ll catch up with the plane in the next city,” he said. “Which is,” he looked at his phone, “just a couple hours away from here.” He grabbed his guitar, and strode back to the sofa bed at the rear of the bus.

***

Leo grabbed a satchel and jumped off the bus, the lads raising a glass to him. They had moved on to the drinking portion of the day/evening, but after he’d played a bit of guitar and checked the Quartet’s website for dates, instead of joining them he’d packed his things and waited, thinking about Jasmine.
What would she do when she saw him? Did she even care? Didn’t matter, he’d have to make her care. And he could do it too. He was freaking Leo Wellington-Kerr. He would make her love him, if she didn’t already.
Hello, old friend, he thought. We’re going to go see your favorite person. He leaned back into the soft leather cushions of the private jet seat, buckled in, and looked out the window as the plane taxied to the runway and took off.
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Jasmine and the quartet…and Leo?

The applause was getting louder and more enthusiastic each piece that they played. They were winning over the crowd in London. It was like a dream. Jasmine was breathless in her excitement. Everything was working. Everything they had discussed in rehearsal was actually coming through even more clearly and beautifully than they could have imagined.
Kerry had just brought her bow to her strings to start the last piece when there was a bit of a commotion in the back of the hall.
"Excuse me," said a very posh, very familiar voice seemingly quietly but in the acoustics of the hall, it carried. "Pardon me," it said again. Jasmine froze. Her eyes wide in desperation, she stared at Kerry, who studiously avoided meeting hers. When the sound died down, Kerry did a sharp intake of breath that indicated they should start.
Holy shit,
thought Jasmine. I have to keep it together. Keep it together. She forced herself not to look up. Not to see if it was him or not. Goddamn it Leo don't play with me she thought, Her bow becoming fast and furious, the notes in her solo part ringing out with aching precision, the fear in her spurring her on somehow to perfection. Every feeling she had toward him she spat out in her melodies, pushing the tempo and the intensity, which the quartet responded to instinctively. The piece got more and more wild, until it culminated in a killer coda, leaving the quartet breathless and laughing as the audience got to their feet, cheering.
They stood up to bow, and Jasmine scanned the amassed crowd for his face. His beautiful, high-cheekboned, dark eyed and gorgeous face. And she wasn't disappointed. Or was, she wasn't sure. In any case he was there, applauding, standing for them, the look in his eyes unreadable. She did her best to ignore him, instead of her initial urges to run off the stage or throw her cello down and tear into the crowd toward him. As she smiled, or pretended to, she thought about what she would do if she were directly in front of him. Would she grab him and kiss him, or slap him? She wasn't sure, so on cue, she just bowed again and swept off the stage, the other members following closely behind.
"Holy shit Jasmine, was that Leo who came in?" said Kerry into her ear. "I think that was Leo!"
"Yes, it was," she said, lips tight, face grim. "I don't know what he's doing here. He nearly wrecked the last piece, bumbling in like that."
"Yes that did seem awfully clumsy," said Jessa. "But yeah, he came, that's a good thing, is it not? I mean, that's kind of huge, Jasmine."
"Well maybe. I don't know what to make of that guy," she said. "He seems like an asshole, a player, a complete dickhead."
"Well you better be quiet about it for the moment because it looks like we are about to meet our public," said Kerry. It was true, the presenter was coming in, hand outstretched to usher them out into the lobby, where they would sign CDs and mingle with the public.
"Wonderful job, ladies!" he said. "Everyone is anxious to meet you!"
They followed him out the door to see a large crowd queued up and waiting at the small table, which was piled with CDs. The group erupted into spontaneous applause at seeing them, which they acknowledged with smiles before sitting down to meet the public.
Jasmine wasn't sure how she would deal with them. She had plastered a smile on her face, and kept her attention solely on the person in front of her, or the CD she was signing before she looked up at all, or searched the crowd. She wanted to disappear, if she were honest with herself. And it was a horrible feeling, at the most successful concert they had ever had, to feel like she needed to be somewhere else. If there was any moment she should be able to enjoy after all this hard work, it was this, the night of their triumph in London. Still she feared that the next person in line would be him, Leo, with his beautiful eyes meeting hers. She pushed away the idea of being with him on his chesterfield, his hand reaching up to cup her breast, to thumb her nipple.
Finally, hand aching, she signed the last available CD and the crowd was mostly dispersed. When the last of the line was finally gone, she saw him. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes on her. She wasn't sure what to do. He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to the table. The other quartet members were silently watching, full of adrenaline.
"Hello, Jasmine," he said.
She burned inside. For him. Against him.
Saying nothing, she stood up and walked out, through the doors into the green room.
She heard him following her. "Jasmine, please wait," he said. Then his fingers closed around her arm. "Jasmine, please!"
She whirled around. "What do you want from me?" She asked, tears in her eyes. "Don’t you have enough girls on tour?" She struggled away from his grip but he took her in his arms.
"Please, Jasmine, let's talk," he said, holding her. His body felt so good against her cheek. To be held by someone again was wonderful, but to be held by him. She didn't know how to feel.
"Look I am really sorry about Nigel," he started. "I didn't mean to just be quiet when he insulted you," he said.
"It's not that," she said, her voice muffled, buried in his chest. "Why do you bother with me if you don't love me?"
He pulled away from her, tipping her chin up to him, her tearstained eyes reluctantly meeting his. "What makes you think I don't?" He said, and kissed each tear from her face, as she melted into his arms. His lips finally met hers, his tongue pushing her mouth open as her hand moved up and tangled into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He pushed her against the wall softly, the length of his body against hers. Finally she pulled away.
"I can't do this here," she said. "This isn't the right place, the right time."
"I understand," he said, “This isn't exactly like a rock show. But, will you come back to the estate? I do think we need some time to be together, to talk. Or if that doesn't work, just anywhere that's good for you," his voice was soft, soothing, kind.
"I have to talk to the quartet," she said finally. She wiped her tears. "They are my priority, you know," she said pointedly.
"I know, Jasmine," he said. "Of course. Talk to them and let me know."
As he walked out the door, she touched her lips, where he had kissed her.
Holy shit, what am I going to do now,
she thought.
The quartet expects me to celebrate with them. Will they understand if I go with Leo? Can I do both?
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Jasmine and Leo

Seeing Leo finally emerge from the doors, Kerry, Jessa and Robyn rushed to the green room, with polite smiles on their faces.
"Hello Leo," said Kerry, a touch smarmily.
"Kerry," he replied. "Lovely to see you." It seemed as if he was going to give her a greeting kiss, but Kerry rushed it and blew past him, knowing that Jasmine must need them. Besides, she had to know:  w
hat the heck was going on?
They found her still against the wall, her hand to her mouth, a dazed look on her face.
"First off," said Kerry, "your playing was absolutely killer tonight. You've always been solid as a rock but tonight you were inspired! I don't know how you did it, but you were amazing. Second, are you ok? What's Leo doing here?"
"Thanks," said Jasmine. She was visibly shaken up. "I don't know either. I was hanging on for dear life, to be honest. I wasn't sure I could play, but I just decided to throw myself into it." Her eyes were far away. "And I am not sure about Leo. He wants me to go to his estate."
Kerry narrowed her eyes. "Oh wow. What do you think?" she asked. "Are you going to go?"
"Well shouldn't we celebrate?" Jessa asked. "I mean, we just had a great concert in London. I am sure the promoter would be expecting us to go with him. I don't want to be a downer, but this is work. If we want to be invited back, we need to schmooze."
Jasmine snapped to. "Yes, Jessa is right. We do need to do our level best to make sure we are keeping up with our obligations. Let's go out, get a nice dinner. Would you be all right if Leo comes along, though?"
The girls looked at each other carefully, and Kerry finally said. "Sure. What could it hurt to have a famous person in our entourage?"
"True that," Jessa said. "Ok, it's settled. Let's invite him."
Half an hour later and they were seated at the most posh restaurant in London. Leo was quiet, probably jet-lagged, they thought, but very charming when he did participate in the discussion. For his part, he was being careful - he was apt to take over any conversation he was involved in, not for trying, but because people tended to gravitate toward rock stars even if they were not the main focus. He pulled out Jasmine's chair for her, and made sure she was sorted with everything she might need but beyond that, he was careful to let her, and the rest of the quartet, remain the "stars" of the evening.
Luckily for him, Origin of Species barely registered on the promoter's radar. He couldn't care less about pop music, being deeply involved in the classical world, and chances were that even if he did know who the band was, he'd not be too impressed.
"Do you have an agent in Europe?" Ian, the promoter was asking Kerry. "Because I can mention your group to a few names to see if there's interest."
"That would be wonderful," Kerry said, buttering a breadstick in a studiously casual way. The other girls knew that she was trying to keep her incredible glee at the offer in check, so that they wouldn't seem desperate or overeager. But each of them exchanged glances, excited about the potential success they might have.
That is, all of them but Jasmine. She was barely paying attention, picking at her own appetizer. She wanted to grab Leo's sleek thigh under the table, to get his attention, to feel his flesh under her hand again. Her mind wrestled with her urges. The words "Do you want a blowjob" running through her mind, she fingered the breadstick in her hand.
"And you Jasmine," Ian said. "Do you play solo at all? After your tour de force in the last number, I thought you must."
Jessa kicked her under the table when she didn't respond.
"Sorry, what?" she said, looking up, and looking guilty at the same time. "What was that?"
"He was
wondering
if you play
solo,
" Kerry said with a slightly admonishing tone. "He enjoyed your playing that much."
"Oh, well yes," she said. "Sometimes. But the quartet is my main focus."
Leo looked up at her, hearing the echo in her words. He wanted to be her main focus. But for now at least, he had better support her.
"I understand that," he said. "After all, your quartet is something like being in a band."
"Well yes, except fewer screaming fans." Kerry said flatly. “Smaller venues.”
"And the groupies," said Ian, losing his cool professionalism for a moment. "Tell us, you must have some crazy stories about groupies."
Leo looked around warily. "Maybe some other time," he said smoothly. "Tonight is about Jasmine and the Quartet. Let's keep focus! What are your favorite pieces to play solo?" He asked Jasmine.
She was grateful. She began to discuss her passions, when she felt his hand brush the side of her thigh, and the fabric of her dress slipped a little over her leg. Her breath almost caught in her throat, but she finished her sentence. Her own hand closed over his, partially to feel him and respond, and partially to stop him from going any further. Her panties were threatening to get quite damp as it was, and if he were to move any closer between her legs, she might leave a spot on the chair. But it was difficult. She had dreamed of his hands exploring her body for weeks now, and to have him there, touching her, while he was so close that she could smell his cologne, was just too much to fight.
She tried to keep her face from betraying what was going on under the table. His hand, though barely captured in hers, had let his fingers escape - and they were stroking her inner thigh. Against her own better judgment, the secrecy, the danger, and the recklessness of his move was making her want to slide her hand over to his lap and find whatever there was to find there. To grasp his length, and stroke it, while the dinner went on, nobody the wiser. She wanted to feel the undeniable desire in his body, just as she felt the urge of his hand against her thigh.
For Leo it was torture, but the kind of exquisite torture that he cherished. The strict formality of the business meal was the perfect place to see how far he could go without being discovered, and the stakes being so high made him focus intently on his goal and the risk. Her leg under the silken material of her gown felt soft and muscular, and he ached to pull the gown up and slide a finger under the fabric of her panties, stroking the soft, wild wetness within. Her hand fought him a little as he inched closer to her center, but he wouldn't have gone that far at this dinner. Just the hint of danger was enough to make him rock hard.
There was no doubt, his cock ached for her. It never had been that discriminating in his whole life, but now it was practically a divining rod, quivering and shaking and pointing at her whenever she graced his presence. Was it pheromones, was it her killer body, her purity, her passion? Her breasts? He didn't know, couldn't know. But whatever it was, he wanted her badly, desperately and right then.
Using all their strength, Jasmine and Leo were able to get through the rest of the dinner without too much hassle. Luckily Kerry was doing her duty as first violin, smoothly schmoozing and distracting Ian, by bringing the discussion back to the possibility of a new agent through thanking him for thinking of it. Jasmine watched her friend take care of this business gratefully.
But she had business of her own to attend to. Personal business. When they finished the last bite of dessert, Jasmine had made her decision.
She would go back to Leo's house - if the offer was still on the table. How could she not?