Exclusive Interview by Ava Lore

Author:Ava Lore [Lore, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alpha male, rock star, sexual contract, rock band, rock arrangment, rock star sex, frottage, mile high club, rock star romance, sex on an airplane, rock star erotica, cumshot
Publisher: Brittle Divinity Press
Published: 2013-03-06T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

We took a limo to the hotel where Carter Hudson was staying. The whole time we drove, Randy kept chattering away about his time in 'the biz' and all his weird little anecdotes about the people he'd rubbed elbows with. I tried to nod politely while attempting to strangle him with the power of my mind, but Kent didn't even bother with that facade. He was staring out the window and not meeting my eye. If I hadn't known he was a hot shot bassist who probably banged ten groupies a night, I would have sworn he was sulking.

The ride took us straight to the strip. I should have guessed that Carter was one of those guys who didn't take investing and saving seriously, so I shouldn't have been so shocked when we entered the Bellagio and headed for the penthouse. For all I knew, Carter was able to bill this shit to the record label. Keep the talent happy, keep the money rolling in.

Kent had banished us to the overstuffed chairs in the lobby before he'd spoken briefly with the woman at the front desk, flashed his ID, then talked to a man obviously high up in the rankings at the hotel, before receiving a key. With a curt gesture, he indicated we should follow him. Randy leaped to his feet, and I stomped behind him, feeling like I'd somehow broken into this palace of opulence and was about to be arrested for contaminating the pretty people at any moment. We slipped down a beautifully decorated hallway to a private elevator. Kent swiped the key and we entered.

The elevator rose like a dream, fancy hydraulics hauling it into the air without all that lurching and shaking that old elevators used to do. Instead, we ascended smoothly, and when we reached the top, Kent swiped the card again, and let us out directly into the penthouse.

At least, I assume it was the penthouse. I'd expected something on the swanky side, and while this place sure had been swanky no more than a few hours ago, something had clearly happened to it to take away its swank cred.

For starters, it looked like a tornado had come through. Two tornadoes. Two tornadoes and they were fighting. Two tornadoes and they were fighting and then they had crazy angry make-up sex. Because that was the only explanation I could think of for the level of destruction that met us.

Clothes were strewn everywhere. On lamp posts, on light fixtures, over the backs of chairs, clustered in a heap near the dining table. The dining table was transformed into a blanket fort, and I could have sworn I heard someone snoring inside it. Glass bottles and small shot glasses peppered every available surface, glittering in the desert sun that was now free to stream in through the windows because someone had ripped the curtains away to fortify the southern side of Fort Blankie. The cushions on the furniture was, to a pillow, completely MIA,

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