Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [18]
You got through the day okay, and you’ll get through the night, too. And then you’ll get through all the other days to come. And she really believed she could. Because even as hot and bothered as she’d been today, she had managed to stay focused—mostly—on the work, and she’d learned a lot.
In addition to teaching her what the contracts meant, Damon had also schooled her on when certain points should or shouldn’t be offered, which ones were the very last she should promise a performer, and how wild about them she should be before giving in to certain demands. “But,” he’d also told her, “the beauty of being with an indie label is that most of our acts are first-timers, open-minded, hungry, and willing to take what we can offer. You won’t be faced with many artists making contract demands, and if you are, you need to take a good look at whether they’re worth it.”
So now she was extra excited to see how this whole process really began, and she would witness it tonight. Appearing at Fetish was an alternative girl band called Blush—the group had sent Damon a CD, he’d happened to pluck it from the many he received on a regular basis, and he’d been impressed. The band didn’t know Damon would be there—he’d simply found their web Site, with club dates. He’d explained to Brenna that he often liked to “sneak up” on an act and watch them quietly, unnoticed, in case he didn’t like what he saw. “Makes it easier for everyone,” he’d said. “No dashed hopes or heartbroken singers. Plus I can see how they perform on any given night.”
As it happened, Brenna was wearing black leather for the outing—at least a little. A black leather miniskirt, with high-heeled boots, and on top a slightly sheer leopard-print blouse with a black bra underneath. Everything was new, bought on her shopping excursion with Kelly, including the bra and the silky black thong beneath her skirt. She hadn’t chosen the outfit because of where they were going, and she hadn’t chosen it to look sexy for Damon—she’d chosen it for the same reason she’d selected her apparel the previous evening: because she had to look the part of a hip, cool A&R rep if she was going to represent Blue Night Records.
And even if the idea of looking hot while she was with Damon appealed on a gut level, she would just have to ignore that. They’d be going out to lots of clubs this week—it’s why they were in Vegas—and she couldn’t wear a plain T-shirt every time she saw him.
Her greatest fear was that an evening of feeling sexy with Damon, and wanting Damon, would lead right where it had last night—to a desperate masturbation session alone in her room. And frankly, now that the day was waning and her body had felt wired for hours, just from being in Damon’s company, she was beginning to remember exactly what had made her indulge in such an extreme form of self-pleasure.
Oh well, if that’s where the night led, then that’s where it led. But as she finished her makeup, going daring with the eyeliner, she decided to stop worrying and instead resume looking forward to all that would come beforehand.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door. Damon.
Her pussy went moist just knowing she was about to see him. Which was bad. Very bad.
But she took a deep breath and hurried to whisk the door open. He stood before her looking…masculinely beautiful. No other way to describe it. His raven hair fell in beautiful waves to his shoulders. His beautiful eyes captivated her with a glance. And his beautifully hard body made a simple black button-down shirt over black jeans look like haute couture. A small silver cross hung on a chain at his throat.
She bit her lip and lowered her gaze, trying to hide the physical reaction that rushed through her body like a river of heat. “No vintage tee tonight, huh?” she asked, working to raise her eyes back to his.
He grinned in reply, then gave her a not-very-subtle once-over. “Good thing I put on a real shirt or I’d look like a slob next to you.”
His gaze