Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [32]
But she was glad she hadn’t said that.
Because what happened in Vegas would stay in Vegas, she remembered.
And that was actually a good thing because of that nasty little deception taking place between herself and the object of her affection.
When the band showed up at Damon’s suite at eight sharp, Brenna finally understood why he needed so much room. Despite the number of people at the meeting, the suite still felt large and comfortable, and it was easy to see the young women were impressed by it, and thus by Blue Night.
Over a large room service breakfast of eggs, bacon, muffins, and more, Brenna listened as Damon went over the terms they were offering. Until she got well-established in her job, she’d need to talk with him or Jenkins about deals before making them, but Jenkins had trusted Damon with the task for years now.
She paid close attention to the dealings, noting that, as Damon had promised was usually the case, the band seemed happy at the very notion of being paid to make a CD and, though they had lots of questions, were agreeable and easy to get along with, at least for now.
Of course, from time to time, Brenna’s mind drifted, memories of last night flitting through her head: her hand around his amazing cock, his mouth suckling so hard and tight at her breast, the powerful way he’d thrust up into her. It was still hard to believe. Not only that Damon Andros wanted her. But that she’d fucked him in a closet! In a bar!
And as she tried to refocus on the business at hand, she kept her smile inside, thinking that Kelly would be so proud.
Two
Recording contracts, Brenna learned, contained a lot of details and required a lot of explanation, at least with girls as smart as the members of Blush, who asked Damon probably a hundred questions before the deal was reached and the meeting ended just before noon.
When the band left, Brenna admitted that she could use some additional explanations on certain clauses herself, so Damon suggested they talk about it poolside as there was no more pressing work until this evening, when they would hit a few more clubs. As luck had it, Kelly had insisted Brenna add a sexy bikini to her new wardrobe, which Brenna had thought silly and frivolous—but she’d relented and now possessed a hot-pink two-piece with a short matching sarong.
Returning to her room to change, she felt thankful, too, that she went to the expense of hitting the tanning bed a couple of times a week. She wasn’t much of a sun-worshipper, but a little color made her look and feel healthier—especially when she slipped into her new suit.
Taking a glimpse back into the bathroom mirror, she couldn’t deny that she looked sexy. Like the new bras she’d bought, the pink underwire triangles lifted her breasts to make them look pretty and plump, and the scant bottoms showed off her slender tummy. Peering at her reflection, she made a mental note to fall to her knees thanking Kelly the next time she saw her. Apparently, she did need a man, she did need a penis, and she did need a fuchsia bikini—and from now on, she planned to follow any and every piece of advice Kelly doled out.
Slipping on the wedged, glittery flip-flops Kelly had insisted completed the look, she left her room to find Damon approaching her door. He wore stylish trunks of black with red slashes up the sides, along with his usual earrings and that silver cross she’d first noticed last night.
“Damn, babe,” he said appreciatively, letting his gaze rake over her from head to toe. The warmth of a blush climbed her cheeks, but only because she wasn’t used to such open praise of her body, let alone liking it.
When they walked onto the rooftop pool and out into the desert heat, Brenna felt overwhelmed by luxury. While the pool itself was large but simple, the surroundings were grand. Hundreds of elegant lounge chairs set amid huge stone pots cradling well-manicured trees and immense stone columns upholding wrought-iron arches strung with vines. Beyond the pool area, the Venetian’s clock tower spired skyward between