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Despite the conversation, Tyler’s fingers graze the edge of my panties. My pussy contracts around nothing, making me stifle a huff. He’s asking to be fucked for hours after this. I can feel the vibration of his chuckle, though he doesn’t make a sound. I wonder if this is what it’s like to use one of those remote control toys?
Could be fun.
I need to do some internet research later.
Pushing my mind back to the annoyed men in front of me, I decide to give them some honest. “Mav and Atlas had leftThe Darkest Nightsthree years before this, and I was going solo. I wanted to prove I could. So I ignored every time Karina, Zeke, and Marin called me the ‘Label Princess’ because of who I’m related to. I didn’t want to rock the boat, so I sucked it up. They were fine for a while until?—”
“Spit it out, Layla,” Mav growls. Tyler rubs my other leg with his hand that’s now under the table, deftly reaching over to pull aside my panties.
Oh fuck me. This man.
I have to answer Mav as Tyler’s long fingers drag through my wetness, slowly pushing them into my channel. I open my legs even more, careful not to bump Draven.
“They started to miss their cues, play the wrong notes on stage, trying to make me fuck up,” I gulp, pretending it’s just the weight of their eyes that is making me nervous. “Zeke started ramping up his bullshit, and I only told Tyler.”
Mav and Atlas’ eyes widen at my cursing, but I’m not the same girl they knew. Lennon and her guys have ruined my language.
Tyler nods and his thumb rubs my clit as he continues to finger fuck me with the same hand. My toes curl in my boots, and I force myself to lean into his side, appearing to relax. Tyler just continues to rub my leg as he continues to tease me with his very talented ministrations.
God, I’m trying so damn hard not to make a sound.
“I will always work within whatever framework is best for Layla,” Tyler says seriously. “She was adamant she didn’t want to tell the execs or her uncle, and I already had my own company at the time, so it freed up my ability to work remotely.”
“Tyler was with me a lot, though there were some things he couldn’t come with me to, so we arranged his schedule to match when I would be available,” I explain. I’m going to need some serious gold stars for my voice barely wobbling. “We were already starting to talk about how he could travel with the tour more when my bandmates walked, stating that I was difficult to work with and Tyler was always with me on tour.”
“Slimy bastards,” Draven says, grunting as he leans forward, bracing his tattooed arms on the table. I think he may be having a personal issue, because he appears to be in pain.
Tyler starts to curl his fingers inside of me just the way I like, and my eyes flutter. My thigh muscles start to tremble and I fist my hands, sure that someone will see my fingers are shaking.
“It’s irresponsible,” Atlas says, glaring at me. Tyler simply hums under his breath, letting me know he’ll step in wherever I’m ready. Besides, my boyfriend is having way too much funplaying with my pussy. “You could have seriously been hurt. The music industry isn’t going to respect someone who’s a martyr, Layla. You’re still too innocent for this world.”
“Speaking of, just how old are you, Tyler?” Mav asks. Draven watches interestedly, trying to piece together our misbegotten history. Pressing my lips together, I let my man speak for himself as I swallow back a whimper.
“I’m thirty-nine. Layla handles me just fine in case you’re wondering,” he says drolly. “Performing on her own solo tour is important to her, so I gave up my apartment to make this work. I’d do it again.” Tyler shrugs at their surprised faces.
“So you’re now homeless and mooching off Layla, aye?” Mav growls. I can’t help Tyler right now as he keeps me right on the edge of bliss. We’ve never done this before in public, but in bed he’ll edge me for hours until he gives me permission to come.
I’m not a virgin anymore, and I don’t pretend to be. No one can see, anyway. Besides, riding Tyler’s hand is more fun than the direction this conversation is going. Barely paying attention to them enough to follow what’s happening will keep me from blowing my ice queen personality that I’m wearing so well.
My nipples could cut glass with how hard they are right now, and Draven’s eyes keep being drawn to them. Shamelessly, he squeezes his pants-covered cock, wincing as if he’s in literal pain.
“Tyler is being paid really well by the label,” I respond to Mav, breathing through my nose to ride the waves of pleasure mounting through my body.
“Absurdly well,” Tyler snorts, moving closer to me to kiss my forehead. The move ensures that he can hold me tightly enough that the men around me can’t see my shudder of pleasure. His words are close enough to calling me a good girl that I almost tip over the edge.
“There’s no way they’re paying you all that well to stare at a computer screen,” Draven scoffs, though he’s staring a bit too closely at me. I’m too far gone to care if he figures it out.
Tyler turns his caramel eyes to Draven, and I know his usually warm gaze is staring the man down. “The number of zeros in the contract made me call Jordan Miles, because I was convinced I was mistaken,” he tells him.
“You’re really saying you aren’t interested in Layla’s money?” Atlas chuckles. There’s no mirth in his laugh, and I watch him closely. My hips want to shift, thrust, to move Tyler to fuck me harder, but I can’t.
Tyler is holding me too tightly, and as if to remind me that I can’t come yet, his fingers slow inside of me. Fuck, I want to whimper, complain, and tears of frustration prick at my eyes. I blame this for the words I bite out at Atlas. Sexual frustration brings out the worst in me.
“What money?” I ask. “I don’t own a car, I live in a cottage in my sister’s backyard, and everything is tied up in investments outside of spending money.”
Tyler begins to speed up again, and I don’t bother to regulate my breaths as they come faster. Let them think I’m getting riled up for a very different reason.
“So you don’t have any money?” Mav pulls out his phone, and I realize he googled me while he was staring at his phone earlier. His amber eyes look angry on my behalf.
