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I snap. “I get it. You don’t needthat. You’re good going without—um—release.”
He stops laughing, pinning me with that dark glare. “Sex, Kitten. The word you’re looking for is sex. And, no, I’m not good without…release. But I’ve got two hands. I’ll be fine.”
“Wow. Um—okay.”
“Anything else you got a problem with?”
I’m still flushed, and he’s still holding onto my arm. “I won’t have,” I pull in a trembling breath. “Sex with you.”
“You’re not my type. Like I said, I’ve got hands.”
Ouch.That stings, even though it shouldn’t.
I shake it off.Deep breath, Wren. Deep breath.“So, how would we do this then? Fool the world into believing we’re real, I mean.”
“Easy, in public you act like my girl. Show up to a few shows here and there, backstage access pass, shit like that.”
“Uh huh. So, we hold hands and hug in public and I jump up and down all giddy like when you sing a pretty song.” I bob my head. “Got it.”
“Takes more than holding hands and hugs to convince the world we’re dating.” There’s something in his eyes that makes me think he’s silently laughing at me when he teases—or I think he’s teasing, “But you can jump around to your little hearts content.” His voice takes on a rough edge. “And I don’t sing pretty songs, Kitten. Have you ever even listened to my music?”
“Honestly?” I wince.
“If we’re doing this, honesty would be preferred.”
“Then no, I haven’t. Your music isn’t my thing.”
He raises a single brow. “What’s your thing?”
“Well,” I pause. “Books. I like books.”
“You don’t like music at all?”
“Sure, I do. But not the way most people seem to. It just doesn’t bring me the same kind of peace that it brings to everyone else.”
He leans back, eyes narrowing. “You watch serial killer documentaries in bed?”
“What? No.” It’s my turn to eye him. “Why would you even ask that?”
“Just checking.”
“Right.” I give a little shrug before I spin slowly to make a show of appraising the room. Then, I decide it’s my turn to tease him—just to see how he handles it. “I like my serial killer docs with popcorn in the living room with all the lights turned low.”
If I weren’t looking for it, I wouldn’t have seen the slight widening of his eyes. I can’t help when the laugh in my chest bubbles up to fall into the space between us. I double forward, slapping my palm to my thigh. “Your face. So good.”
“So, you like games, Kitten.” The corner of his lip pulls up in an unwilling smirk and there’s a dark glitter to his eyes. “This is going to be fun.”
Then, without another word, he turns and leaves me in my new room, wondering just what I’ve gotten myself into and what kind of games a man like Cash Jagger plays.
five
Cash
I close Wrenlee’s door behind me, thinking this might not be so bad after all as I make my way into the kitchen. I’d been keeping an eye on the girl for the last few weeks, thinking she’d be the perfect buffer between me and the lunatic hanger-on’s that came with the fame we’re so close to, wondering how I’d get a good girl like her to agree to a relationship without strings when I overheard her conversation with Addy. I knew then and there how I’d make her mine. Knew she was desperate enough to take me up on my offer. I thought I’d have a bit more work cut out for me in convincing her, but once I set my mind to something, I always made it happen. And Iset my mind to making the world believe Wrenlee was mine.
I’d told her it was the crazy women that came with fame I wanted to discourage, and that wasn’t untrue. But mostly, those women I could handle alone. What I was really trying to handle with Wrenlee was Alyssa. Last time I had Alyssa in my bed was around two years ago, and the girl wouldn’t take a hint. She wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t back off.
It was getting bad. Only two months ago, I’d had to talk to building security about barring her entry because I’d caught her sleeping outside my condo door. That was after she’d shown up dressed in all kinds of kinky fuckery at all hours of the night.
