Page 33 of Stuck With My Rockstar Boss
“You like that?”
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
He grabs my other leg and pushes it back. I scream out his name as he pummels me deeper. “Say my name again, baby.”
“Lucas, you’re gonna make me commmeee,” I cry.
He doesn’t respond with words, just presses harder and faster until white heat blisters my body and my back arches. An orgasm rollicks across my body; all of my muscles tremble.
Lucas is not long after me, releasing inside. He lets out a string of curses, none of which he said the last consonant of. His hands soften on my thighs, but he doesn’t let go. Just caresses them tenderly. He pulls back and kisses my knees, breathes in deeply, and lets out a gruff, “Fuck.”
I watch how his jaw hardens and releases. I tenderly touch his tight navel through his shirt. Lucas looks down at my hand and then up at me. His lips spark into a tight-lipped smile. His green eyes glimmer in mine.
“You’re fucking perfect,” Lucas says, so quiet it’s like it’s not meant for me to hear.
I don’t reply, but I will live on those words for as long as I can.
Bright headlights interrupt the tranquility of the car, beams catching Lucas’s attention and making him squint. “Hope they don’t notice the windows fogged up,” he chuckles.
“Shit, are they fogged up?” I say, straining my neck to see.
“Yeah, it’s like Titanic in here.”
I put my hand up against the window and drag it down dramatically. “The finishing touch.”
Lucas laughs and then draws me up in his arms. We lay in the backseat a long while, idly talking. We do not worry. We do not wonder about what is right or wrong. Because in this moment, it’s so right.
But there is something in the pit of my stomach. Something that’s growing heavier every moment I spend with him. I want him longer than for now. I won’t go as far to say forever. If it ends with the tour, though, I think my heart will break.
I crawl into my bunk at around four in the morning. We discussed finding a hotel for the night, but given how people have become suspicious, it’s not worth the risk. We’ve planned the next day to be chock full of adventures. The city by the bay is full of exciting things to do.
I crash and sleep soundly until I’m awoken to the sound of my phone buzzing by my head. I ignore it at first. It’s probably my mom or dad wondering when I’ll wire them a bit of extra money to cover the mortgage payment this month. That can wait until a more decent hour.
Whoever calls sends a message right after. I groggily lift my head and look at the screen. It’s Ken.
Call me.
My stomach drops. Ken’s not a bad guy, not really, but he has been personally haunting me since the beginning of this tour. I give Ken a call and don’t even have time for pleasantries before he speaks.
“Tour’s over, kid.”
My brain is still half-asleep. I’m not sure what he’s saying. “Huh?”
“There’s a picture all over the internet.”
I almost laugh. “Ken, we talked about this already, it’s –”
“A new picture, Mika,” he says edgily. “From just last night.”
My heart goes from beating normally to galloping. I put him on speaker and start searching the internet.
“I told you, Mika. It’s in your contract.”
I find it. Right there on People. A picture of me and Lucas in Golden Gate Park. Kissing. No way to explain that away. Confirmed Couple? Lucas Tremaine and backup singer, Mika Robertson, spotted kissing.
“Oh my god,” I say. “But the concert tonight, it’ll –”
“We’ve already got a replacement on her way. You’re done,” Ken cuts me off. His voice isn’t unkind. It’s full of regret.
