Holy shit. Are they? Is she?
Suddenly, Court sidesteps someone on the floor, the woman, who is kneeling between Rye’s open legs. My eyes flit from the back of the raven-haired woman’s head, where Rye has his hand guiding her movements, up to his face, which I see has a smile stretched wide with raw pleasure. He opens his eyes and stares up at Court, whose profile I now see.
Court is completely naked, his hard cock thick and rigid pointing upward, as he places a knee on the bed next to Rye’s thigh.
“I think I’d like to take you up on that offer.” Court’s hand strokes his cock, as the woman pulls back from between Rye’s outstretched legs and shifts over to Court.
The woman takes Court’s erection into her mouth, as Rye leans over and places kisses down her bare back, his hand skimming down her spine, extracting low growls of pleasure from the woman. The vibration from her moan must feel fantastic, because Court punches his hips forward and the woman sucks him in further.
My gaze darts between the three of them. On Court’s expressions, on the woman’s actions, and then finally on Rye’s naked body.
He sits like a king on a throne, his legs splayed, an elbow pressed into the mattress behind him, as his impressive cock stands at attention while he watches the scene unfold before him.
And when Rye wraps his dick in his fist and begins to stroke himself off, the clipboard that I’ve forgotten I’m holding drops out of my hand, bouncing off the wall and onto the floor with a huge slap of noise.
I gasp loudly, stuck like a deer in the headlights, unable to move or run or hide. And that’s when all three sets of eyes land on me through the crack in the door.
Rye’s bright blue eyes, fringed with lashes so dark that his fans think he wears mascara, find me first. The woman’s wide, green eyes flare in surprise. And finally, Court’s light brown eyes, as warm as the sun, lock on me in surprise, as well, stunned to find me watching them.
I slowly regain my composure and step back. One step. Two steps.
And then I turn and flee out the door, down the trailer steps, and fly by Saul, who I can hear is chuckling at my expense.
“I told you so,” he snickers, as I turn and flip him the bird.
And just as I get to the end of the trailer, I hear Rye calling from the door in a similarly amused voice, “Shae! You forgot your clipboard!”
2
When I looked back, I saw a glimpse of Rye, standing on the top step of the trailer, door swung wide, the clipboard covering his groin and his cheeky grin across his face.
Lord have mercy, I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.
To hide myself from the embarrassment, I stay away for a good hour, pacing through the festival grounds littered with thousands of people, all here for the weekend to enjoy the music from their favorite bands and all the fun festival life has to offer.
It’s a carnival of delights and an emporium of great live music.
And it’s apparently also a den of iniquity.
Or at least, that’s what Rye’s trailer seems to be.
My phone has been pinging with messages from both Rye and Court, but I ignore them as my heart still races with adrenaline pumping through my veins from what I just witnessed. In all my twenty-four years, I’ve never seen anything like that.
Having been raised a pastor’s daughter in a small Southern Baptist town of Percy, Tennessee, just an hour outside of Nashville, those types of behind-closed-door activities were not seen or discussed, or even thought about – heaven forbid, should the Lord Almighty himself might strike you down!
Well, at least, that’s what I was raised to believe. It doesn’t mean I was a goodie-goodie, though. I just hid my desires better than others and didn’t flaunt them so openly. But what I saw between Rye and his stepbrother, Court topped any of my own pornographic fantasies.
Fantasies that I could never have had if I’d stayed in my hometown. And it’s the small-minded attitudes of the townsfolk in Percy that drove me to leave. Three years ago, I packed up all my stuff and drove to Nashville with my guitar in hand. I wanted to immerse myself in the music business, become a country recording artist and follow in the footsteps of my idols Loretta Lynn and Tanya Tucker. I had big dreams and even bigger aspirations.
But three years later, I was still working as a vendor at a large sporting and music arena, trying to make ends meet, living in a shitty, bug infested apartment and writing songs for my portfolio in the event that I ever get into a recording studio. I also occasionally worked as a fill-in temp office assistant when I was between gigs.
That’s how I happened on the job opening for a personal assistant for Rye Alderidge. The temp agency manager called me in one day and informed me she had a client looking for someone who could be away from home for up to three months, wouldn’t mind living in a trailer and would sign a non-disclosure agreement regarding this employer.
Without batting an eyelash, I immediately said yes. It wasn’t until after signing the agreement that I learned I’d be working fortheRyland Alderidge, the biggest up and comer in the alt country music scene. He’s the sexy guitarist and singer/songwriter who is notorious for going shirtless on stage and driving fans wild with the sheer sexual energy he exudes and the masculine magnetism that radiates from him on every stage he’s on.
Let’s face it. The minute I found out it was Rye, I freaked out and had a fangirl moment. But as soon as I met with him and his manager, Court, I was quickly cured of any starry-eyed ideals.
Rye was all business and was actually a bit of a dick at first.
