He blew out a harsh breath. “Someday you might. I just want you to give me a chance. I really can help you get over your…tutor. As good as you think he is, I can be better. Babe, I know so much about pleasing a woman. I can turn you to butter, make you melt at my feet, then lick you right into a screaming puddle. Let me try.
Please.”
He sneaked a glance at the tableau inside. The barely legal girl still had a man pummeling her sex, but now the man at her br**sts had eased under her and moved his mouth to her clit, devouring her as if it was his last meal.
Kimber risked a quick glance down, and noticed that the more the men worked the young woman into a frenzy, the harder Jesse got. His head might want to give up this life, but his dick wasn’t on the bandwagon yet.
Suddenly, a scowling Call stepped in front of the glass, blocking their view. Jesse cursed and whirled away, allowing his manager to open the door and step outside.
“That journalist from People magazine is waiting in the suite. Get him the hell out of here before the foursome f**king on the floor takes center stage. As it is, they’re gathering a crowd. Are you sober?”
“Haven’t had a drop.” Jesse sounded bitter.
“You haven’t been smoking, snorting, sniffing—”
“No.”
“Then get out there, find the journalist, and grab the opportunities while they last. Fame is fickle and fleeting.”
“I can think of another f-word for it at the moment.”
“You hired me to help you be a megastar. I’m doing my job. Go do yours.” Jesse’s jaw clenched, and he shoved his shaggy dark hair from his face. “C’mon, Kimber.” He reached for her hand.
Call stopped him, his mouth tight with barely restrained fury. “Just you. Make the magazine focus on you, not your romance. That’s not the angle we’ve been playing to the press. Try to avoid mentioning this…engagement if you can.” He sent Kimber a regretful glance. “You’re a first-class bastard, Cal.” The older man’s smile filled with sharp, artificially white teeth. All she needed was the theme music to Jaws. “That’s why you pay me.” Grumbling to himself, Jesse grabbed the door, yanked it open again, and disappeared inside.
An awkward silence passed over the balcony. Call stared, and Kimber met it, wondering why the hell he seemed to be accusing her of something without saying a single word.
“Thank you for trying to help Jesse,” she said finally. “I know he doesn’t appreciate you like he should but—”
“You’re a nice girl, and you shouldn’t be here. He’s going to screw up your life, and you’re definitely going to ruin his image. Tell me how much you want and where you want to go. I’ll take care of everything.”
“What?” Was he…buying her off?
“Don’t play stupid.” His voice turned angry. “You don’t belong here. You don’t belong with Jesse. How much to end this engagement and go away?” Kimber had planned on leaving, but not like this. She sent Call an incredulous stare. “You’re bribing me?”
Call glared with cool blue eyes. “I’m paying you to go back where you belong, while sparing you a lot of heartache and public humiliation.”
“I don’t want money,” she insisted. While she had no intention of marrying Jesse, she wasn’t about to give Call the satisfaction. “You are a first-class bastard, just like Jesse said. This decision is between him and me, and whatever we choose for our lives is our business.”
“This engagement is going to kill his momentum. His new album is due to release soon. We want people focused on the music and the mystery behind the man who lives in the fast lane. We don’t want people wondering if you’re going to wear Vera Wang for the big day and how skilled you are in bed to have lured him to the altar.
Don’t ruin his career.”
“Don’t run his life. He’s a grown man—”
“With his brains in his dick. If you don’t want money, then for your own sake, get smart and get out before you get hurt,” Call growled as he returned inside.
Shaking with anger, Kimber waited until she was sure he’d gone before sliding the heavy glass door open. She climbed back into the air-conditioned chaos. A glance around the suite showed the people still partying en force. The quartet on the floor had finally finished their group shag and lay in a panting heap. The girl looked as if she’d passed out, in fact. A pretty fan with silky dark curls doused the front of her white shirt in champagne like a wet T-shirt contestant. The cloying smell of marijuana hung all around the room, making her cough. An object came flying through the room moments later and landed six inches from her feet.
Someone’s bong. Great.
Sighing, she looked around for Jesse. If he’d finished with the journalist, they needed to talk. About their futures, this marriage that couldn’t happen. And she needed to warn him about Cal. He probably already knew that his manager was a manipulating son of a bitch, but just in case…
But where the hell had Jesse gone?
Maybe it was better if she didn’t find him right away. This way, she’d have time to pack. Then she could talk to him, lay her feelings out on the table, and go. Clean and easy. She only hoped he wouldn’t see it as desertion at a time when he desperately needed her. If possible, she wanted to remain friends. But she couldn’t lie to Jesse and tell him she wanted to be his wife.
Difficult, closed-off Deke had somehow squeezed her heart between his massive hands and refused to let go.