And be
ready for an encore."
The
blare of the bedside phone's ringer jolted her awake. Jayne sat up, squinting
in the darkened room.
"Ignore it."
Zander's arm snagged around her waist. He pulled her down to his side.
"I shouldn't."
But he was so inviting. She settled against his chest.
The ringing stopped.
"See?" His
teeth nipped at her chin. Strong hands cupped her breasts and then his rough
fingers tweaked her nipples.
His arousal strained
against her hip. She trailed her fingers trailed down his stomach and closed
her fingers around him. He groaned and thrust into her hand.
Her cell phone rang.
Zander pulled away.
"Who's calling you at one o'clock in the morning?"
He picked up her phone
from the bedside table. Luke's name lit across the display. "Why the hell
is he calling you?"
She grabbed it and put
the call on speaker. "Hey Luke, is everything okay?"
"I want a bottle of
Jack. Room service doesn't have any."
What the hell? Was he
serious? Did he have any idea what time it was?
Shock and annoyance
flashed across Zander's features.
She plucked at the sheet.
"I'll see if I can find some for you tomorrow."
"I want it
now." Cold, hard, and unfriendly, he snarled the words.
Heat burned through her
veins. Why did everything have to be difficult with him? Beside her, Zander
shook his head, his eyes narrowed, and his hands formed fists on the bedsheets.
Her own anger escalated. Tea and lozenges for performances, she could
understand. Even getting the scarf so as to not disappoint a fan. But she drew
the line at late-night alcohol. "Then you can call a cab if you want to go
out and get it."
"We've been over
this. That's not how this works. You're the tour manager. You go out and get
it."
She rubbed her temples
and reminded herself to be professional when all she wanted to do was reach
through the phone and smack him. "Just order something else for now. If
you still want it tomorrow, I'll get it for you then."
"You wouldn't want
me to tell Irisa that you're not doing your job, would you?"
Zander snatched the phone
from her hand. "Listen, asshole. No one would expect her to do this. She's
not going out and getting it for you. If you want it so bad, do it on your
own."
Luke's voice boomed out
of the speaker, "What the hell are you doing with her?"
"Never mind. Be at
the breakfast bar at nine. We're having a band meeting."
"Where are you? Are
you sleeping with her?"
"I'm hanging up now.
And if you call Jayne again, you'll be dealing with me." He ended the
call. Then turned off her phone.
She shifted, pulling the
sheet higher over her breasts. "Thanks for sticking up for me."
Muscles rigid, Zander set
the phone on the nightstand. "How long has this been going on?"
"What do you
mean?"
"I mean, how many
times has he asked you to do things?"
"It's part of my
job—"
"No." His hand
rested on her calf. "Late night liquor runs are not part of your job. He
said you've been over this with him before. What else has he asked you to
do?"
She swallowed. His
question was asked in evenly spaced words, and she felt the anger behind them.
"Well, you know about the scarf fiasco from today. He's also sent me on
errands for throat lozenges, specialty tea, and once when he needed his
portable steamer. And on Monday he wanted Guinness-flavored ice cream. I had to
go to three different pubs before I found it."
"And these errands
are the reasons you haven't been around back stage or at the hotel when I've
come looking for you?"
"I go when he asks
me to go. It's always for things he's forgotten to add to the list, or needs
last-minute."
"Final question: Is
he always this rude to you?"
She blinked. Zander's
thunderous expression promised murder, making her hesitate. But there was no
point in lying. "Always."
"Fuck. That's
it." He rose off the bed and grabbed his jeans.
"Where are you
going?"
"Luke and I are
having a talk now . I'm not waiting until morning." But the look in
his eyes suggested he'd be talking with
ready for an encore."
The
blare of the bedside phone's ringer jolted her awake. Jayne sat up, squinting
in the darkened room.
"Ignore it."
Zander's arm snagged around her waist. He pulled her down to his side.
"I shouldn't."
But he was so inviting. She settled against his chest.
The ringing stopped.
"See?" His
teeth nipped at her chin. Strong hands cupped her breasts and then his rough
fingers tweaked her nipples.
His arousal strained
against her hip. She trailed her fingers trailed down his stomach and closed
her fingers around him. He groaned and thrust into her hand.
Her cell phone rang.
Zander pulled away.
"Who's calling you at one o'clock in the morning?"
He picked up her phone
from the bedside table. Luke's name lit across the display. "Why the hell
is he calling you?"
She grabbed it and put
the call on speaker. "Hey Luke, is everything okay?"
"I want a bottle of
Jack. Room service doesn't have any."
What the hell? Was he
serious? Did he have any idea what time it was?
Shock and annoyance
flashed across Zander's features.
She plucked at the sheet.
"I'll see if I can find some for you tomorrow."
"I want it
now." Cold, hard, and unfriendly, he snarled the words.
Heat burned through her
veins. Why did everything have to be difficult with him? Beside her, Zander
shook his head, his eyes narrowed, and his hands formed fists on the bedsheets.
Her own anger escalated. Tea and lozenges for performances, she could
understand. Even getting the scarf so as to not disappoint a fan. But she drew
the line at late-night alcohol. "Then you can call a cab if you want to go
out and get it."
"We've been over
this. That's not how this works. You're the tour manager. You go out and get
it."
She rubbed her temples
and reminded herself to be professional when all she wanted to do was reach
through the phone and smack him. "Just order something else for now. If
you still want it tomorrow, I'll get it for you then."
"You wouldn't want
me to tell Irisa that you're not doing your job, would you?"
Zander snatched the phone
from her hand. "Listen, asshole. No one would expect her to do this. She's
not going out and getting it for you. If you want it so bad, do it on your
own."
Luke's voice boomed out
of the speaker, "What the hell are you doing with her?"
"Never mind. Be at
the breakfast bar at nine. We're having a band meeting."
"Where are you? Are
you sleeping with her?"
"I'm hanging up now.
And if you call Jayne again, you'll be dealing with me." He ended the
call. Then turned off her phone.
She shifted, pulling the
sheet higher over her breasts. "Thanks for sticking up for me."
Muscles rigid, Zander set
the phone on the nightstand. "How long has this been going on?"
"What do you
mean?"
"I mean, how many
times has he asked you to do things?"
"It's part of my
job—"
"No." His hand
rested on her calf. "Late night liquor runs are not part of your job. He
said you've been over this with him before. What else has he asked you to
do?"
She swallowed. His
question was asked in evenly spaced words, and she felt the anger behind them.
"Well, you know about the scarf fiasco from today. He's also sent me on
errands for throat lozenges, specialty tea, and once when he needed his
portable steamer. And on Monday he wanted Guinness-flavored ice cream. I had to
go to three different pubs before I found it."
"And these errands
are the reasons you haven't been around back stage or at the hotel when I've
come looking for you?"
"I go when he asks
me to go. It's always for things he's forgotten to add to the list, or needs
last-minute."
"Final question: Is
he always this rude to you?"
She blinked. Zander's
thunderous expression promised murder, making her hesitate. But there was no
point in lying. "Always."
"Fuck. That's
it." He rose off the bed and grabbed his jeans.
"Where are you
going?"
"Luke and I are
having a talk now . I'm not waiting until morning." But the look in
his eyes suggested he'd be talking with
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