Page 121 of The Twins

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Paris, France - 6 Weeks Later

Vegas’s scrunched-upface is a feast to look at, clean-shaven with big blue eyes of heaven. His intoxicating scent merges musky elements of smoke, dark wood, and saffron. His custom tux is elegant, showcasing a body molded to perfection. Next to him, I almost seem trashy in my little black dress. He’s the most gorgeous man I know, and it makes me want to fuck him.

“I need my cock sucked. When am I getting my cock sucked!? It’s been weeks! I don’t feel well. I think I’m gonna faint,” he exclaims, and a couple of curious Parisians turn to look at us as we pass them by.

I chuckle, and he gasps in shock.

Vegas doesn’t know, but Tara’s with Carey, accompanying her to a big fashion house’s late-night show. They’ll be busy for most of the night.

Before we joined Carey on her European promotional tour, I experienced morning sickness. It settled right on time for our journey to Europe. My men were supportive. Charles and Remo don’t even mention the lack of any sexual activity during the majority of my first trimester.

Vegas, on the other hand?

He’s bubbling with complaints. He dishes them out when he’s massaging my feet after a long day out in town.

Carey Jean’s life is more hectic than anything I’ve ever experienced. She has more than a dozen daily appointments with people who want something from her. Dress her. Style her. Interview her. Watch her sing. Watch her interact with fans. She promised me that it’ll only be like this until she’s emancipated. She wants everyone to see how much she can achieve before she retires to go to college.

She’s already filled out her applications in secret.

It’s an exhausting lifestyle, and I don’t understand it, but that’s child stardom.

Nowadays, Carey’s dad is the one to sign off to all her contracts. Once she gets emancipated, she will direct her life independently. Surprisingly, her dad’s supportive of Carey emancipation. He is a busy guy in New York City, and I doubt that he has put a lot of thought into this. He could invite her to live with him. NYC has a vibrant celebrity lifestyle. But no. Carey can do as she pleases.

Naturally, my family has taken it upon itself to guide the kid until she can make her own decisions.

We’ve joined her tour to see Europe, but we also want to keep her close. If we hadn’t come, she’d be unsupervised. Her mom hasn’t contacted Carey ever since the emancipation process began.

Being on tour with Carey, we only manage to join Carey for half of her appointments, while Tara is adamant about being there 24/7.

Tara initially refused to join our trip to Europe, but Charles convinced her at the last minute. He hired replacements for the task force while the main team is on vacation. He’s forbidden everyone from checking in with work. As the head of the task force, he’s the only one allowed to communicate with Los Angeles every other day.

The much-needed break has relaxed Tara. She grew distant after I announced my pregnancy, showing up but not communicating with me. She’s opened up ever since we went on the road with Carey Jean.

“You’ve got plans, don’t you? Where are the others?” Vegas asks, narrowing his eyes at me as we step into our hotel’s elevator.

I shrug.

“Sugar puff, you’re killing me. First, you dress in the sexiest dress I’ve ever set eyes on.” Black, their favorite color on me. Tight. Short. Deep plunge, not giving a fuck who sees my scars. I look like I’m paid to fuck people, and that’s a major compliment. “And now you’re smiling at nothing like this? What am I missing?”

“I can’t tell,” I say, shrugging.

“Can you shrug a little more? Show me your tits, sugar puff. You know you want me to play with them,” Vegas begs. No other man could get away with obscene remarks of this caliber. To anyone on the outside, he only wants me for my body.

Likewise.

BUT.

I squeeze his hand, and as the fancy elevator takes us up to the suite, I lean forward, and I kiss him on the mouth. I trail kisses down to the side of his neck, inhaling every detail of his essence. “Thank you for bringing me to San Ricardo. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Don’t ever thank me for what I did, sugar puff,” he says. “Just don’t. I could’ve fucked it up.”

“You didn’t. You took a risk, and you brought me home.”

“Home?” he gasps.

I nod. Clearing my throat, I decide to tell him my little secret. “Remo sucked Charles’s cock while we were in London.”

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