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Authors: Georgia Cates

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“Cabinet to the right of the stove.”

He bags up some ice cubes before wrapping them in a dishtowel and passing it to me. “I’ll get the lasagna out. You hold that ice over your burn.”

I sit at the table so I can be worthless. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do after you’ve slaved in here all afternoon. Do you need me to do anything else?”

I glance at the clock. “It’s almost six. Will you put the bread in the oven? I already have it on the pan.”

“Anything for you, Miss McLachlan.”

“You enjoy that, don’t you?”

“What?” He says it so innocently, but he knows what I mean.

“Calling me Miss McLachlan.”

“I certainly do. It’s good practice.”

Good practice for what?

A knock sounds at the door and I’m instantly annoyed because I want to know what he means. I’m tempted to tell Jake and Jolene to hold up a minute because I need to get to the bottom of this. Of course I don’t, but it’s a topic I plan to revisit later when we’re alone.

I get up to answer the door. “Here we go. Remember to be nice if you want your reward later.”

“Yes, ma’am. Your caveman is going to make you proud.”

I give him a quick kiss. “That’s my sweet boy.”

Chapter Eighteen
Jack McLachlan

I
stand
in the living room and wait for the recipients of the World’s Worst Parents award to come through the door. This is going to be hard as hell to get through without opening my mouth—I know things about Jolene Prescott’s past that the rest of the world doesn’t, including Jake Beckett. I only have one reason to look these people in their faces and not tell them they’re assholes: Laurelyn.

As I stand there waiting, I realize Laurelyn has never shown me a picture of her mother. Without much thought, I always envisioned an older version of Laurelyn so when I see Jolene Prescott for the first time, she is nothing like I expected. She’s a slim, attractive blond but looks nothing like Laurelyn. Her father, on the other hand, is a different story. Laurelyn is the spitting image of her father. I don’t think a father and daughter could look more alike. He marked her well, which is ironic, considering he hasn’t had anything to do with her for the last twenty-three years.

I can’t let myself go there or I’ll be telling these people off, so I shove the thought aside as Laurelyn introduces me to her parents for the first time. Polite introductions are made and we go into the dining room where Laurelyn has everything ready for dinner.

“You made lasagna. Jake, it’s the best you’ll ever have—better than any Italian restaurant. I don’t know where she got her ability to cook, because it sure wasn’t from me.”

I know where she learned. While her mother was high and passed out, she was a little girl learning how to fend for herself.

Laurelyn looks at me and I’d almost think she could read my mind if I didn’t know better. She taps the top of my foot with hers and gives me that look, the one that says, stop it right now. God, how does this woman know me so well—like she can read my every thought just by the expression on my face?

I bite my tongue to prevent it from rattling off what I really think. “Yes, ma’am. She’s an excellent cook.”

Laurelyn tries her best to keep the conversation light, but Jolene manages to steer it toward the assault. There’s nothing Laurelyn can do to stop it. “I want to know what happened with Blake Phillips. Why did he attack you again?”

Again? This wasn’t the first time? Well, that’s something we’ll be discussing later.

“Blake came to see Randy about bringing us back to Nashville to record a single. He was in the room when I showed up for the post-show meeting. To say I was shocked would be the understatement of the century. We argued about recording the song and I left. I had no idea he followed me to my room and when I unlocked the door, he grabbed me from behind and forced me inside.”

“What did he do to you, Laurie?”

I haven’t heard these details and I don’t really want to, but I’m left without a choice because her mum isn’t going to be satisfied until she knows it all. “I bit his hand over my mouth so I could scream for help.” She points to her face. “He backhanded me here. And then he went nuts when I told him I didn’t want him.”

“What do you mean he went nuts?”

Laurelyn looks at me and then back to her parents. “He tried to rape me, but Jack Henry stopped him.”

Her mother gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God. I didn’t know that’s what you meant when you said he attacked you.”

Her father pounds his fist on the table. “If I’d dealt with him after that stunt he pulled with you outside the studio, this wouldn’t have happened.”

What stunt?

“It’s not your fault. I told you I didn’t want you to make a big deal out of it because of his family. I had no idea he was that unstable, but I’m pressing charges and I took out a restraining order. He’s not supposed to come near me, but don’t worry. Jack Henry will be here with me.”

“But for how long?” her mum asks.

I don’t appreciate her tone and I suspect Laurelyn sees it on my face. “Three more weeks.”

“Where does that leave the two of you if you’re going back?” Jolene asks.

We look at one another and it’s evident. Neither of us knows, so we don’t answer.

The tension is thick. Jake attempts to cut through the discomfort. “What kind of work do you do, Jack?”

It’s a safe topic. “I own several vineyards and I produce a variety of vino.”

“Sounds like you must do well for yourself.”

“I manage.” I’ve never been one to boast about my wealth, except when I thought I could use it as a line for getting Laurelyn into my bed.

“Don’t let him fool you with his modesty. His vineyards do quite well.”

“Well enough that we don’t have to worry about him being here because of the success you’ve achieved since you saw him last?” Damn! She just puts it out there, doesn’t she?

“Mom!”

“It’s okay. I understand why that might raise suspicion with your parents. I’m not offended in the least.” I’m not insulted by her concern. In fact, her worry makes me proud that for once, she might have her daughter’s best interests at heart. However, it makes me mad as hell that she questions my love. “Laurelyn’s father isn’t the only multimillionaire sitting at this table, Miss Prescott. Although I’m very happy for Laurelyn and her success, I don’t need one cent of her money.”

“I had no idea you were so wealthy.”

Of course Laurelyn didn’t tell her. She wouldn’t. “She didn’t tell you because my money means nothing to her.”

And that’s only one of the many reasons I love her so much.

I
survived dinner
. Barely. And I kept my promise to Laurelyn, although I’ve never bit my tongue so many times in my life. I need a fucking tongue transplant after enduring two hours with Jolene Prescott, but I told myself the entire time that it was all for my girl. That was the only way I could get through it without telling that woman what a selfish and shitty mother she’s been to a woman who deserves so much more.

She actually had the nerve to tell me that Laurelyn’s career was here in the U.S. and not in Australia. She said it like I was a dumb-arse and didn’t already realize that. I know America is where country music stars make it big. I don’t need her to tell me that, so now I consider her insulting in addition to being selfish. But the icing on the cake was when she told me I’d ruin Laurelyn’s life if I robbed her of all the opportunities she had in her future.

None of that is Jolene Prescott’s decision to make. Even as badly as I want Laurelyn to choose me, it’s not my decision. Only she can decide which path she wants to take in this life. And all I can do is pray that her mother doesn’t get in her ear and persuade her that her life isn’t with me.

When they’re finally out the door, I fall onto the couch and rest my head on the back. I’m looking at the ceiling when Laurelyn sits next to me. “I’m sorry that was… what it was.”

“Just so you know… that did not improve my opinion of your mum at all.”

“It didn’t do much for mine, either. I’m sorry she was such a bitch to you, but there’s good news.”

“Please, let me in on whatever it is. I need something good in my life after that.”

She lowers herself to the floor between my knees and begins removing my shoes. “You have a reward coming for the stellar way you handled yourself tonight,” she says as she slides my second shoe off. She removes my socks and flings them over her shoulder. She pops the button on my jeans and she’s wearing a wicked grin as she slides the zipper down. “I think you need some room in these pants. They look a little tight.”

I nod as I watch her hands move from my open fly to the waist of my jeans where she hooks her fingers around them and my boxer briefs. “Upsy-daisy,” she directs as she pulls downward. I lift my hips and she’s careful to avoid snagging my hard-on as she slides them to my feet before tossing them onto the floor.

After I’m naked from the waist down, she rises to her knees and runs her hands up my thighs before she rakes her nails slowly down my legs. “I’m gonna suck you off so good, you’ll forget your own name.”

“I dare you.”

She grabs me where my legs are bent and gives me a jerk to scoot my body closer to her. Frankly, I’m a little surprised because I didn’t realize she was packing that kind of strength in her tiny body.

Her eyes watch mine as her tongue touches the base of my cock and she slides it slowly up the shaft until reaching the tip. She swipes her tongue back and forth across the end before tilting her head and wrapping her mouth around the base from the side. She glides her mouth upward and then covers me as she takes me fully inside her mouth.

I love watching her do that. It never gets old.

I lace my fingers through her nape and massage the muscles of her neck as each stroke of her mouth brings me closer to ecstasy. I love seeing her head bob up and down as she takes me deeper with each pass. She uses her hand to grasp the void space and it glides up and down in perfect rhythm with her mouth. She does this motion over and over until I feel it building and I’m ready to blow.

“I’m getting close,” I warn her because it always needs to be her decision if I come in her mouth.

Like always, she doesn’t stop and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have a girl who does any of this for me. She is so fucking hot!

I try to hold back so I can make it last longer, but I’m a goner when she squeezes her hand tighter around the base. I flex upward into her mouth and her hands move to wrap around my hips as she gives me one last hard suck. I place my head against the back of the couch and look up at the ceiling. “You are my dream come true.”

That’s how I stay for several seconds before I lift my head to see her sitting at my feet, her chin resting on my leg as she looks up at me. “I love seeing you come apart like that. It’s amazing to know I’m able to do that to you.”

I place my hand on the side of her face and rub my thumb over her bruised cheekbone. “You’re the only one who can.”

She turns her face toward my palm and places her hand on top of mine. “I think I owed you that after you handled Jolie so well. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

There’s so much more. “Baby, you don’t know the half of it.”

“What else did she do?”

“She cornered me in the dining room while you were in the kitchen.”

“What did she say?”

I don’t really even want to go there because I’m afraid Laurelyn might begin to think about it and find some merit in her mum’s words, but I tell her out of my own selfishness because I want to see her reaction. I’ve dropped hints here and there, but we’ve yet to talk about any kind of future together. I hope to read her face for some sign of how she feels about leaving her new successful life. “She told me I’d be robbing you of great opportunities if I took you away from your career.”

“Oh, God.”

“You know I’m not that person. I want you to have everything you’ve dreamed of.”

“There are two things I dream of, and having one means I don’t get to have the other.”

I’m gonna put it out there. “The selfish part of me wants to tell you to quit this thing you’re doing and come back with me, but I won’t. It has to be a decision you make on your own. I couldn’t take it if years down the road, you blamed me for robbing you of this life.”

“And I want to tell you to sell everything and come here to build a life with me, but I understand how leaving behind the vineyards you know for the unknown could be disastrous for your livelihood. You’ve worked too hard to give up all of your success, and I could never ask you to move away from your family. So, where does that leave us? Where do we go from here?”

“I have no idea. I only know that I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”

“Ditto.” She kisses my leg. “I wish we weren’t so complicated.” As soon as the word complicated leaves her mouth, we both laugh. “I know. Complication is exactly what you wanted to avoid and look at what it’s done to your life.”

I hope she’s not suggesting we would’ve been better off not knowing one another because nothing could be further from the truth. “Come here, love.”

She gets up from the floor and straddles me. I take her face in my hands and hold it so she’s eye to eye with me. “I don’t regret you for a second. You’re my favorite complication and you always will be.” I see the tears forming in her eyes as they begin to glass. “I knew you were the next one the second I laid my eyes on you singing in that club, but you can never imagine my surprise when I realized that you weren’t just the next one—you were the last one.”

Chapter Nineteen
Laurelyn Prescott

H
e has
no idea what it does to me when he says things like that. It tears my heart in two. I know I love him and I want to be with him more than anything in this world, but then I have this life I’ve only barely tasted. What if I give it up and then we don’t work out? Where would I be then?

Alone without a career. I’ve been there and done that, and it was terrible. I’m terrified of finding myself in that predicament again.

My heart is racing. I know he wants me to tell him I’ll walk away from all this and go back with him, but I can’t. “I’m scared. Terrified is actually a better word. I wish I weren’t, but I’m the only person in my life who’s ever had my back. This is my way of surviving—to put trust in someone besides myself is to become vulnerable. I’ve never allowed myself to do that. I’m just messed up that way and I’m not sure I can ever be any different.”

“I know you can. I saw your vulnerability when you told me you loved me for the first time. You broke through those walls you’d built but I let you down. And even though you love me, you’re not ready to trust me wholeheartedly again. But it’s okay because I’m going to prove that you can put all of your faith in me.”

I would love that so much—to have just one person I could always depend on for love and safety. And I’d love nothing more than for it to be Jack Henry. “Please don’t confuse my lack of security for lack of love. I swear I couldn’t love you more, but I need time.”

“I want you to have everything you want. If time is what you’re asking for, then I’ll give you all you need.” He pulls my face to his and kisses my mouth so gently, I almost swoon. “I’ll always give you anything you want.”

I feel his erection sandwiched between us and I rock my pelvis gently against it. “Right now, there’s only one thing I want, and you’re definitely the only person who can give it to me.”

In record time, he has us moved to the floor and I’m on my back with him dragging my jeans and panties down my legs. He’s merciless when he drives into me so hard, my back skids across the carpet. “Sorry,” he apologizes but doesn’t relent as he pounds inside me. I’m propelled further across the floor with each thrust.

I loop my arms around him to hold on. “Never be sorry for fucking me this good.”

“God, you’re gonna get carpet burn if I keep on like this.”

He’s up from the floor and pulling me with him. He lifts me and deposits my bottom on the arm of the couch. I fall backwards on the cushions before I lift my feet to his shoulders and he’s at it again. Damn. I’m getting fucked while practically standing on my head, and it’s pretty superb.

I should be willing to walk away from my life just so I can have this done to me every day. It’s definitely something to consider.

He wraps his hands around my thighs and pulls me up to him as he drives harder with each thrust. “I meant what I said. I swear you are my fucking dream come true.”

It’s amazing how he can take the sweetest things, throw the word “fucking” in the middle of it, and I could melt into a puddle at his feet. If my panties weren’t already off, I’d be dropping them after hearing him say that.

I don’t have time to think of a witty response because he’s thrusting into me those last few times. “There’s nothing I love more than being inside you, Miss McLachlan.”

Okay, that’s a little different. Usually he just groans my name. This time I get a complete sentence, ending with “Miss McLachlan.”

When he’s finished coming, I slide up the couch and he sinks over on top of me with his body settled between my thighs. “I swear you don’t miss an opportunity to get between my legs.”

“No, I certainly do not, and that won’t be changing any time soon.” He reaches down and grins mischievously as he cups his hand over me. “This is where I love to be.”

I slap his hand away because sometimes a girl just needs a little break. “You are an animal.”

“And you love it.”

He always says that. And it’s true. “Yeah, I do.”

“We have six days to ourselves before you’re scheduled back in the studio. Do you want to do something special?”

I’m always up for anything, special or not, with him. “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Maybe take a trip somewhere?”

I’ve been away from home for so long. I’d like to spend some time here instead of being gone all week. “Maybe if it was a short trip—no more than three days.”

“What about Vegas?”

I like the thought of a little fun at the casinos. “I could handle a little R and R. Maybe do some gambling. See a show.”

“What day works for you?”

I don’t want to come back and have to roll into rehearsals the next day. “Can we do it soon so I can have a few days to rest before I have to be back in the studio? It’s going to be hell on wheels once we start this new material.”

“Anything you want. How about the day after tomorrow? Then you can be back to have the weekend to rest before you’re in the studio Monday.”

“Let’s do it.”

I
’ve never been
to Las Vegas. Until I started touring with Southern Ophelia, Australia and New Zealand had been the extent of my travels—and those were on someone else’s dime. I guess this trip is too, but I don’t feel quite so dependent. I could afford this trip if Jack Henry would let me pay. But he won’t because that’s just how he is.

We check into our hotel and of course, he’s booked the most luxurious suite they have—the presidential, I’m certain. It’s enormous and the decor is extravagant with no shortage of luxurious furnishings in shades of gold and taupe. The bathroom is majestic in matching tones of gold and the frisky girl inside me can’t wait to see what Jack Henry comes up with for us to do in the gigantic jetted tub the size of a small swimming pool.

Maybe we should stay more than two days. I can see how this could be relaxing. Maybe I shouldn’t be in such a hurry to get back since Jack Henry and I can have way more fun in that double shower with a gazillion faucet heads than in my apartment’s small fiberglass tub.

“What do you want to do first?” I’m hoping he’ll say we’ll soak in the tub together. We haven’t done that in so long.

He taps me on the end of my nose. “You, my dear, have an appointment in fifteen minutes.”

“For what?”

“A little well-deserved pampering. I scheduled you an hour and a half in the spa for all those girlie things you like so much, and then an hour with a masseuse—a woman, per my request. I don’t want any man putting his hands on you, especially your back. That’s mine and no other man touches it.”

It’s a back, not a vagina. “You can be such a caveman sometimes.”

“I won’t argue with that.” He puts his arms around my waist and I feel his warm breath against my ear as he huskily says, “I’m going to have you on that table in my wine cave again one day, but next time, I’m fucking you until you scream.”

“I think I recall some screaming at some point,” I remind him.

“Yeah, but not the kind I have in mind for next time.”

“Promise?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He grabs both of my butt cheeks and playfully growls. “Now, get your perfect little bum downstairs for some pampering.”

“Yes, sir.”

He kisses the side of my face where I’m still sporting a dark bruise. “I have a conference call so I’ll be here in the room tending to business back home if you should need me for any reason.”

“Okay.”

“Enjoy yourself.”

As if there’s a chance I wouldn’t. “Don’t worry. I have a feeling I will.”

I enter the spa and the receptionist heads me off before I can say a word. “Mrs. McLachlan?”

I’m taken aback by the Mrs. part. I’m used to being called Miss McLachlan, but I like the sound of it so much that I don’t correct her. “Yes.”

“We are ready for you. Right this way.”

I follow the small brunette into a room at the back of the spa. She places a velour robe on the chair as she directs me on what we’ll be doing. Once I’m changed, I’m taken to a private room where the magic begins.

I’m mannied, peddied, scrubbed, and buffed to perfection. My hour and a half ends too soon but then I’m taken to another room where I’m placed face down on a table and draped only across my bottom.

I’ve never had a massage but I see why Jack Henry wouldn’t want a masseur for me. I’m all but naked.

The next hour flies entirely too quickly, but I’m feeling refreshed and relaxed when I leave. I pass several shops in our hotel lobby as I’m walking toward the elevator. Something in the window of a shop catches my eye—a showgirl costume.

It’s a black bustier, trimmed in red with a bow sitting directly between the breasts. There are black and red feathers forming a skirt across the back and a small matching headpiece. The look is complete with black fishnet stockings. It’s hot. He’d love it.

Hmm… I brought lingerie with me but that sort of stops being a surprise when I wear it every time. There’s no way he’d be expecting to see me looking like a burlesque showgirl.

When in Vegas…

I go inside the boutique for a closer look and a saleswoman immediately asks how she can help me.

I point to the costume in the window. “How much is this?”

“Umm… I believe it’s fifteen hundred.”

Shit! Fifteen hundred bucks for that tiny little outfit? I’m still not used to having extra money to spend, so it feels like a lot to blow on something like that. I stand there looking at it and although it’s the most ostentatious purchase I’ll have ever made, I want it for my caveman. “I’ll take it.”

I ease the door open and hold it as it closes. I want to sneak inside the suite without Jack Henry knowing so I can hide my purchase. I hear him talking in the living room, so I tiptoe past the doorway and then make a run for the bedroom. I quickly look around, searching for the perfect hiding spot. Rats. There’s not a lot of hiding places so I opt for putting it on the shelf in the closet. Maybe he won’t have reason to go digging around in there.

I nonchalantly walk out of the bedroom into the living room and Jack Henry notices me. He’s talking to Clyde from the Chalice Vineyard but motions with his hand for me to join him on the couch. He inspects my nails and removes my sandals so he can see my toes better. I giggle when he brings my foot to his mouth and sucks my big toe, all while never missing a beat as he talks business.

That is so damn hot.

I feel that familiar stirring deep down in my groin when he gives me those eyes—the ones that tell me he wants to do something very naughty to me as soon as he’s finished with his conference call—but I want to save it all for tonight when I’m wearing my surprise for him. I turn my head from side to side and give him the I don’t think so finger shake.

He counters with a slow nod and a look of determination. He hates when I tell him no, but he’s just going to have to not like it because I’m saving all my love for tonight. I want his anticipation to be at its highest. “No,” I whisper. “There will be none of that until later.”

“That sounds good, Clyde. I’ll call you in a few days and we’ll discuss it further.”

I know he’s cutting off his call sooner than he would have because of my rejection. “And just why not?”

“You’re not the only one who can come up with surprises. I have plans for you later tonight, mister, and they don’t include getting it on right now.”

“Getting it on,” he laughs. “I call it getting off.”

“Getting on. Getting off. Whatever you want to call it, we’re not getting any right now. You’re waiting.”

“I don’t like waiting,” he whines, still sexy as hell.

“Well, tough. You are because I said so.” I must remain firm and resist anything he throws my way. “But just think… it’ll be so damn good when you finally get it.”

“I don’t want to think about how damn good it’ll be. If I do, I’ll get hard with no relief in sight,” he complains.

“You’re right. Don’t think about it.” I kiss him quickly. “I’m going to get ready.”

“So I can’t join you in there?”

I knew he’d try. “No.”

“Shit, Laurelyn. You’re being pretty cold to the guy who just had you pampered for two and a half hours.”

“It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.” And I have no doubt he will.

“I would expect nothing less.”

I
walk
into the suite’s living room, ready for the night. I’m wearing a black one-shouldered minidress and mile-high fuck-me pumps. Yep. They’re definitely devil shoes but I’ll gladly take the discomfort because I love the way Jack Henry looks at me when I wear them.

I’m also wearing my diamond star pendent because I never take it off and the diamond stud earrings he gave me the night we went to the opera. I reach up to touch them as I enter the room and I’m reminded of some fond memories at the Opera House.

“Baby, you look so fucking hot.” See? Another example of how he adds fucking to a sentence and makes my panties want to melt away.

“Thank you.”

“But you’re missing something,” he hints.

I’ve fallen for this trick in the past, but I know what it means when he says that. He has a gift for me—an expensive one—and I feel the little girl in me jumping up and down impatiently to see what her present is. “What do you have for me?”

He walks over to the coffee table and picks up a long skinny black box. “I had this made for you.” He pops it open and inside is one of the most beautiful diamond bracelets I’ve ever seen. “It’s beautiful.”

It’s a continuous pattern of diamond stars, identical to my pendant, alternating with infinity symbols. “It’s beautiful.”

“Do you want to guess the significance?” He does that—always giving me jewelry with significance.

“I understand the stars but I don’t know what the infinity sign is about.”

“It symbolizes two different things. First, you always use your finger to trace an imaginary infinity symbol when you’re nervous about something.”

I had no idea I did that. “I do?”

“Yes. And the second part symbolizes my love for you. It’s infinite—limitless and impossible to measure.” I run my finger over one of the infinity links.

He doesn’t have a lot of competition but this is by far the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. “My love for you is endless and you never cease to amaze me.” I suddenly feel very guilty for denying him what I know he wants. “I’ll get naked for you right now if that’s what you want. I won’t make you wait until later.”

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