Page 159 of Cherry Beats

Janey, apparently, was fired from her position at The Daily Times, and we hadn’t heard from her since.

Tess had taken it upon herself to let the fans know that if we had anything important to say, they’d hear it from her first, and somewhere along the way she’d become our very own photographer, taking the best shots of us on stage and offering exclusive, mostly harmless footage of us backstage.

Anything intimate, though, was for our eyes only.

Youth Gone Wild fans were goingcrazyover her, and the tables were turning.

She no longer had to worry about who was looking at me. I was worried about who was looking at her.

Smiling to myself, I dragged her bag to the door and dumped it on top of her others. The woman was acquiring more shit than the whole band and crew put together.

“Presley, I have to collect these memories for us. I have to get tacky gifts and postcards, and all that other stuff you hate from every city we visit because one day we’ll be old. We’ll be tired, worn out, and our memories won’t be so good. We’ll forget about dancing on the rooftop in Hungary. You won’t remember the way the crowd screamed your name in LA. I’ll forget the way I looked at you, knowing you were mine, while thousands of people wished you were theirs. Indulge me, please. I want these things for us,” she whined in a beautiful voice that only she could make sound adorable.

I sighed at her and pushed my fingers through her hair. “It sounds like I’d better buy a house with a big fucking garage then, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t forget the pool.” She kissed me on the nose. “And the Mustang.”

“You’re adapting to this lifestyle a little too quickly.”

“No point me acting like you don’t have me for life anymore, right?” She grinned.

Damn right.

I never understood how my father had devoted so much of himself to my mum. Now, I got it. I got it more than I could bear some days. If Tess said she wanted to leave me again, I’d struggle to survive the after. I wasn’t weak, but with her in my life, I was definitely stronger. She made me feel indestructible, all the while being the only one to hold all the power that could destroy me.

She wouldn’t though.

I had faith in that. In her. In us.

“Tessa Lisbon, comeon!”I called out, using my commanding voice now. That one got her moving, usually. The downside was, it also got her horny, and that was only a bad thing today because we had somewhere to be.

“Don’t you use that tone with me,” she said, opening the door with a dramatic flair before she began to walk closer with a seductive smile on her face.

Fuck. Me.

I couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of seeing her walk into a room. Other women could be dressed in glitter and gold from head to toe, and they still wouldn’t sparkle the way Tess did. They could promise to spend four days in bed, bending to my every command, and they wouldn’t turn me on the way she managed to do with nothing more than a smile.

She was wearing a black pair of cut off shorts, a white tank that let the underarms fall down below her bra line, and she had a turquoise bra on underneath. Her cherry red hair was curled into soft, subtle waves, and she’d put makeup on today. Her eyes were lined in kohl, making the green of them pop.

I wanted to scoop her up, throw her on the bed, and close the curtains on the world.

“Why so speechless, rock star?” she asked, sashaying closer, coming to a stop in front of me.

My eyes drifted down to her white tank, and I studied the four lines of text on it.

I

Prefer

The

Drummer

“Jesus Christ, Cherry,” I whispered, reaching out to pull her close. “I should hope so.”

“Nothing wrong with letting the world know.” She smiled, wrapping her arms around my neck and staring up into my eyes. “Plus, imagine how much it’s going to piss Rhett off.”

I laughed, torn between being amused and being turned on. I wanted to eat her alive, fuck her hard, and then make love to kiss all her tender spots better. I needed to make her scream my name soon—real soon.

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