Play, p.15
PLAY, page 15
“It doesn’t matter. There’s a double standard for women, and you know it.”
He sighed. “Yeah, but at the end of the day, this will get sorted out. You’re not going to marry him, and once we have the conservatorship removed, we can tell the world the truth. Until then, you have to hang in there.”
My stomach was in my throat, and I mostly wanted to puke, but he was right. I had to hang in there until we talked to the attorney and got the ball rolling. Hopefully, that would be any day now.
* * *
Tyler and I were immersed in each other twenty-four hours a day, and even with my father making a nuisance of himself, I loved being here. I couldn’t think of any other time in my life where I was completely relaxed. I felt so far removed from my old life, the things my father was doing almost didn’t matter. Almost.
It had been incredibly embarrassing for me when Marcus told us I’d just gotten engaged. And though I was mostly avoiding email, I’d already gotten dozens of congratulatory notes. It was annoying as fuck, and I wanted to reach out to Darren, but I didn’t want him to have my new number. I could have used Tyler’s phone, of course, but I was still struggling with involving him any more than necessary. It was dumb, but in my heart I wanted to protect him from the ugliness of my life, whether he needed me to or not.
The band hadn’t heard a word from Darren or Whiplash about the demo tape, and though it had only been a couple of weeks, it seemed that they were purposely staying mute. Darren was probably in league with my dad, and that was my biggest worry. Tyler didn’t seem worried, but I was. I didn’t want this to blow back on Nobody’s Fool, and my gut told me it would. It probably had already started. Every day that passed with no word about the demo tape told me this was going to go wrong.
The ringing of my phone interrupted my thoughts and I frowned at the Los Angeles exchange. No one from the record company or in my father’s employ had my new number, and I’d left my old phone in Las Vegas. I hesitated but finally answered, more out of curiosity than anything else.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Ariel Fox? This is Madeline Aronson.”
“Oh! Hello.” I’d almost forgotten about the lawyer Casey had reached out to on my behalf.
“I thought perhaps we should chat. Is this a good time?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’d like for us to get together. Based on what Casey told me, I have a feel for your situation, but it’s hard for me to get any information without having you officially sign on as a client.”
“Can we do it via email? I’m out of the country right now.”
“You’re out of the country?” She sounded surprised. Hadn’t Casey told her I was in Limaj?
“I’m in Limaj,” I said after a slight hesitation. “My father was threatening to institutionalize me again, so Casey sent the jet for us and we left.”
“That probably wasn’t the smartest move,” she said after a moment. “You’ve literally just given your father the ammunition he needs to show you’re out of control. Between the photos of you leaving Club Inferno and then you jumping on a private jet to leave the country, your father can make a case for you being manic, on the verge of spiraling.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth,” I protested. “I’m fine. Tyler and I are hanging out, writing music, just being—”
“Reality makes zero difference,” she said, interrupting. “The only thing that matters in cases like this are perception. And right now, the public’s perception of you isn’t great.”
My stomach lurched, like it had been doing repeatedly lately, and I didn’t know what to do. “So, what can we do to fix it?” I finally asked.
“Are you interested in hiring me?”
“I am, but you have to understand I don’t have access to money right now. I can’t pay you.”
“Casey has guaranteed payment, and frankly, with what I know so far, I’m going to tear that conservatorship up into tiny little pieces before I’m through, so I’m not particularly worried about that part of it.”
“Oh.” She caught me off guard. “Well, that sounds wonderful.”
“If you have time, let’s hash out some details then.”
“Sure. What do you need from me?”
“Everything.” She paused. “I’m going to email some paperwork for you to sign, because I don’t have access to anything without it, and if you sign right away, I can get the information I need. Do you have a copy of the conservatorship?”
“I don’t have access to anything like that from here—it’s all in a safety deposit box in Los Angeles—including the physical evidence I’ve gathered.”
“You have physical evidence?” Madeline sounded intrigued.
“Printed copies of threatening texts and emails, evidence of hidden bank accounts, all kinds of stuff.”
“Yet another reason you need to be back in California.”
“I’m not safe from him in the U.S., and until we have a court date, I feel like I need to be here.”
“We’ll talk about this again in a little while, but for now, I need you to tell me everything. From the beginning. With every detail you can think of.”
“Sure.” I glanced over at Tyler, who’d been listening since I put the call on speaker, and he nodded.
* * *
I was on the phone with Madeline for three hours. With a ten-hour time difference, it was the middle of the night for her, but she didn’t seem to mind. And by the time we hung up, I had hope. She seemed to know her shit and was already talking about having me re-evaluated by a psychiatrist she knew, using people like the Queen of Limaj as a character reference, and my exemplary behavior the last seven years as proof I was capable of having my freedom.
“So why don’t you look happy?” Tyler asked when we finally hung up.
“She made it sound like we had a good shot, but there aren’t any guarantees. Even though I’ve had no issues in almost eight years, the judge could take that as a result of my father’s management of my care.”
“Right, but you can’t think that way.”
“It’s better to be prepared than to be caught off guard.”
“I guess.”
My phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a text from Casey.
CASEY: Are you and Tyler interested in a jam session one night this week?
I looked over at Tyler. “Casey wants to know if we’re interested in a jam session one night this week?”
“I’m always up for a jam session,” he replied.
ARIEL: We’re in! Just tell us when and where.
CASEY: Probably Friday night. I was thinking we’d rehearse for an hour or two and then invite the palace staff and a few close friends to come watch. We’ve all been so busy it might be fun to entertain everyone.
ARIEL: Sounds great. Can’t wait.
“I wish the rest of the band was here,” Tyler said quietly. “I think they’d love playing at the palace.”
“Well, we can make that happen,” I said. “Why don’t we bring it up to Casey? Maybe not for Friday night, but going forward?”
“That’s a good idea.”
“You want to go for a walk?” I asked impulsively. “It’s a beautiful day, even if it’s cold, and we haven’t explored the grounds much.”
“Sure.” He got up and reached for a sweater.
It was fun to see Tyler turn into just another hot guy in a sweater sometimes. He’d worn dress pants and a button-down shirt to dinner the other night, and except for his very tattooed forearms, you wouldn’t have known he was a rock star. With his hair pulled back in a ponytail, it had been striking to see him and Marcus close together.
Marcus didn’t like me, though. No matter what he said or what Tyler said, I could tell. I often caught him watching me, as if I was going to do something crazy any second, and it was unnerving sometimes. My life was a hot mess, but I was always polite and friendly with him, and I was crazy about Tyler. I would never do anything to hurt him, but I had no idea how to prove that to Marcus.
We walked out the private back entrance of the palace, the one mostly used by the staff, and wandered into the gardens. Tiny white lights covered the trees, giving an aura of old-fashioned romance. Even covered in snow, it was beautiful, a veritable winter wonderland, and I smiled over at Tyler.
“If it was just a little warmer, I could sit out here and write songs all day long.”
“I think there’s a spot in Casey’s apartment that overlooks the gardens. Maybe she wouldn’t mind if you did that once in a while.”
“She’s already been so generous, I hate asking for anything else,” I admitted.
“I don’t think she’d mind. Her wanting to play Friday night, essentially for family and the palace staff, tells me she’s bored or antsy.”
“Well, we’ll see how much longer I’m going to be here,” I said slowly. “And go from there.”
“Are we leaving?” he asked, glancing down at me.
“Madeline thinks I need to be back in L.A., and though I don’t have a date yet or anything, we’re going to discuss it again after she gets copies of all the court documents and stuff.”
“One day at a time,” he said softly, his fingers squeezing mine as we continued through the gardens.
He always calmed me. His voice, his quiet strength, and especially the passion that lurked behind those gorgeous blue eyes. Every time the details of my situation started to overwhelm me, I just had to look into his eyes to find acceptance, understanding, and best of all, passion. Our physical relationship went way beyond sex. The sex was fantastic, of course, but the intimacy was everything to me. He understood me on a level no one had since my mom died. He didn’t try to push me to do or not do anything, and more than anything, he listened. And no one ever really listened to me.
“I bet this is beautiful in summer,” I said, staring at the ornate stone fountain.
“I’d love to take pictures of you in front of it,” he said softly, looking down into my face. “With the sun shining on your hair, the water running behind you.”
“You’re a romantic, Mr. Rabinowicz.”
“Not until you, I wasn’t.” He leaned over to kiss me, and our mouths moved together with familiarity. The sun had disappeared, and a slight chill swept over me, but it didn’t matter because whenever he touched me, I forgot everything anyway. If this was what it was like to be manic, I was in big trouble because I loved how it felt. I never crashed, though, because while Tyler’s touch brought me alive, his very presence kept me grounded. I didn’t know what that meant, but I’d fallen hard and fast and was helpless to stop it.
“I need you all the time,” I whispered against his mouth.
“You have me all the time.” He deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth with a tender ferociousness that made me weak in the knees. We had a lot of sex, but it was never enough. I certainly craved the release of orgasms, but more than that, I craved him.
He ran a hand over the curve of my ass, and I moaned, already so aroused it was almost painful. My core ached for him, as if we hadn’t had sex five or six hours ago, and my nipples tightened with need. Our tongues were doing a delectable tango—he was truly the best kisser in the world—and I slid one hand beneath his jacket and sweater, finding his warm skin. The muscles beneath twitched as I touched him, and his erection grew against my hip.
I moved my hand up his torso, settling on one of his nipples, and tugged gently, something I knew he liked. Now he was the one groaning, his hips grinding against mine.
“Keep it up, and I’ll take you right here,” he growled against my mouth.
“Yes, please. I need you, Tyler.”
25
Tyler
* * *
I didn’t know what had come over her, but the sounds she was making drove me wild. She was as insatiable as I was, and my cock spang to life behind the zipper of my jeans. It was too fucking cold to get undressed out here, and I would have dragged her back to our suite, but she was all over me before I could. Every time she squeezed my nipple, my cock got a little harder and I imagined how wet she was.
“Fuck, baby…” I crashed my mouth back to hers, kissing her like I did when we were alone. Sensuous, carnal, possessive.
She squeezed my nipple harder, and I unzipped her jacket, untucking her blouse so I could get inside her bra, squeezing her breast until she gasped.
“I can’t fuck you out here,” I said, biting down on her lower lip until she cried out. “It’s too damn cold.” I started to pull away, but she had my nipple in a death grip.
“Tyler, please.”
The urgency in her voice was all it took, and I splayed my hand across her flat stomach.
“Right here?” I demanded, my tone matching hers in urgency.
She responded by sliding her hand around back and into my jeans, squeezing my ass.
“Oh, you’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” I rumbled. “You need me to make you come?”
“Yes, please.” Her chest was rising and falling, her eyes filled with lust.
Jesus, she was never more beautiful than right before I fucked her, when she forgot everything but me. Her silver eyes gleamed almost white and her cheeks were flushed. If it had been even a little warmer, I would have bent her over the nearest bench and made her scream my name, but it was too cold for that. Instead, I sank onto one of the many benches and pulled her onto my lap, unzipping her jacket and working on the buttons of her blouse. I lifted one of her breasts out of the cup of her bra and immediately bent my head, sucking her nipple between my lips and grazing it with my teeth. Then I licked it with my tongue, soothing and suckling until she was whimpering.
“Unbutton your jeans,” I whispered, adjusting her position because my cock was straining against my jeans. I was going to get her off first and then take her back to our suite and pound her like a fucking lunatic.
She fumbled with the button and zipper, and I took her lips again as I slid my hand into her jeans. Luckily, they weren’t as tight as the ones she wore on stage, so I could get my hand between her legs and dip a finger between her folds.
Holy hell, she was dripping wet, soaking my finger. I pulled my hand out and looked into her eyes as I put the finger covered with her juices into my mouth. I licked it clean, loving her taste, and then slowly moved it back. She arched into my hand, and I pushed two fingers inside of her.
“Tyler…” Her head fell back, but I had one arm around her back, keeping her from falling over. I dipped my head to suck on her nipple again since it was right there, practically begging for my attention. I alternately sucked and bit down, until she was squirming against my erection.
“Oh, god.” She whimpered as I curved my fingers up and pressed on the spongey part inside of her that always pushed her over the edge. This was no exception, and she came hard, her juices gushing out of her, coating my hand as her sweet sheath clamped around my fingers.
“That’s my girl.” I kept my fingers inside of her, scissoring them slightly and pushed her right over the edge again.
I pulled them out as soon as she stopped pulsing around me and put them in her mouth.
“Lick every drop,” I commanded, watching her lips close around my fingers that way they often did my cock. “Now I’m going to take you inside and fuck you hard.”
“Yes. Please, yes.” Her eyes were still a little glassy, but she licked her lips with anticipation.
With a soft chuckle, I set her on her feet, and she hurriedly zipped up her jacket. Then I grabbed her hand, and we ran for the entrance.
* * *
Ariel slept in the next morning, and I went to work out. We’d gone at it half the night, and I didn’t know if I was the luckiest guy in the world or if Ariel was on some kind of bipolar bender. I tried not to read into her behavior because I honestly didn’t understand how the disease worked. My understanding was that people with this disorder experienced extreme highs and lows, but Ariel wasn’t like that at all. She was as even-tempered as anyone I’d ever dated, and she certainly wasn’t the only woman in the world who enjoyed a lot of sex.
The way we’d gone at it yesterday, especially when we’d been outside, had been epic, but I wasn’t sure what had brought it on. I didn’t like overthinking things when it came to women, but Ariel had become too important to me not to worry. Both about our relationship and her mental health.
Had yesterday’s sexcapades been some kind of manic episode? Did a marathon of fantastic, passionate sex count as a type of mania? It wasn’t the first time we’d been unable to wait another minute—including the night we met—and I hoped it wouldn’t be the last, but how was I supposed to know the difference?
I was jogging on the treadmill and didn’t notice Marcus had come in until he was standing in front of me.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“What?” I slowed down a little, frowning at him.
“What you do in private is your business, but you had to have sex like a horny teenager right there in the garden?”
I arched a brow. “What, were you watching?”
“The whole guard crew watched!” he snapped. “You realize that the entire grounds are under surveillance? We have cameras everywhere, and there’s someone on duty watching them all, twenty-four-seven. Was it really necessary for you to embarrass me in front of my coworkers?”
Crap.
I’d forgotten all about security cameras.
I was a horny dumbass.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I didn’t even think about it. Things are still so new for us, and sometimes we get caught up…” My voice trailed off because it sounded lame, even to me. We lived together and had all the privacy we needed. Going at it in the gardens had been unnecessary. Even though it had been hotter than hot.
“What is it about this woman that turns you into someone I don’t recognize?” he demanded, hands on his hips. “Don’t you see how she’s changing you?”
“How the hell would you know?” I demanded. “You don’t have any idea who I am anymore.”
