Fame, p.1Meghan Quinn
Book Two in the Addiction Series
Published by Hot-Lanta Publishing
Cover by Meghan Quinn
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All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. www.authormeghanquinn.com
It had been almost five hours, and there was still no sign of Rook. Maisy started to get anxious and couldn’t wait any longer for him to come back; she needed to find him. She threw on some clothes and went out to the living room, which was occupied by Cruz, Landon, and Kaid. They were stretched across the couches, tossing a football around, while the cleaning staff picked up the empty cups and alcohol containers that were scattered around the room.
They made a huge mess last night, and it seemed like they had an amazing time, but Maisy was glad she missed it, because she spent the night in Rook’s arms. She looked around and saw no sign of him, so she looked down at Landon and Cruz, who seemed to be avoiding her gaze.
“Hey, guys, have you seen Rook?” Landon and Cruz eyed each other at her question. Nausea took over her body in full force at the look they gave each other. They continued to toss the ball around as she asked again, “Where is he?”
No one answered her, so she went up to them and swatted the ball away that had been tossed to Cruz. She bent over, put both hands on the arm rests of the chair that he was sitting in and asked again.
“Where the hell is Rook?”
“Tell me where the fuck he is.”
“His dad came to visit,” Landon said quickly.
“What? She deserves to know.”
His dad came to visit? Shit, she knew that wasn’t good. Maisy had heard stories about what visits from Rook’s father did to him. She wondered why he didn’t come to her, though. He’d promised, if something was bothering him, he would come to her. She gripped the necklace that was strung around her neck at the thought of what Rook might have done to himself.
“How did he get past security?” she asked.
“Rook doesn’t like causing scenes, and his dad knows that, so he used it to his advantage. He knew Rook wouldn’t want to be in the newspaper again concerning his crazy dad, so Rook met up with him.”
Makes sense, she thought. Rook was a bit of a private man when it came to his past; she wouldn’t want the newspapers dragging up her past and spreading it around for the world to see either.
“So, where is he now?” Neither of the boys answered, and she was about to kick them both in the balls when Kaid replied for them.
“Bus, Maisy.” Kaid was looking down at his hands when he answered.
Something was going on, and she didn’t like the feeling she was getting from everyone. Without saying a word, she took off and ignored the calls from Landon and Cruz.
The elevator ride down to the lobby was terribly slow. Families got on and off with her as they talked about their plans for the day and the fun they were going to have. Maisy knew her day wasn’t going to be as fun as everyone else’s.
The buses were parked in the back of the hotel, which was convenient, because Maisy didn’t want to walk the streets of Dallas by herself, especially after what happened to her earlier in the morning. The slimy feeling she got from that man still touched her body, even though she had taken many showers.
The buses were parked side by side, in the shade of the hotel, giving them an eerie feeling. Maisy didn’t feel right; she knew something was wrong, which caused her to run to the bus and fling the door open. When she stepped onto the bus, she instantly saw empty bottles of alcohol scattered across the living space. There were lines of coke on the countertop, random pills scattered in the sink, and remnants of drugs everywhere.
Her stomach hit rock bottom. What the hell happened? She headed toward the back of the bus, but was too nervous to see what hid behind the back bedroom door. She almost couldn’t deal with the pressure that had built up in her chest. The feeling of wanting to throw up continued to threaten her as she moved past the bunks and saw the back bedroom door. There was a note taped to it, addressed to her, but she was too damn afraid to read it. She didn’t want to read it.
She opened the door and her stomach dropped instantly to the floor as the sight in front of her made her knees too weak to stand. She grabbed onto the doorway, accidently crumpling the note that was in her hand.
Lying in front of her was Rook, on the bed, and he wasn’t alone. A naked woman was riding on top of him with her head thrown back in ecstasy. Rook stared straight ahead with a complete lack of emotion displayed on his face.
A gasp escaped Maisy’s throat, which caused him to look her way. When they made eye contact, absolutely no regret or sorrow crossed his face. Instead, it was as if he was set in stone and couldn’t show any kind of emotion. This wasn’t the man she fell in love with. The man she loved would never do anything like this to her, never.
Not knowing what to do, she decided to just leave. She couldn’t confront him, she couldn’t face him, not after what he did to her. He promised he would come to her if he was ever facing his demons again; instead, he fell back into his old routine of drugs, alcohol, and random women.
Maisy bent over next to the bus and threw up. There was nothing in her body, so it was purely liquid that came out of her, as her stomach convulsed over and over again.
How could he do this to her? He told her he loved her, he loved her! Maisy didn’t know much about love, but what she did know was that what Rook did to her did not qualify as loving someone.
If only he had come and talked to her; if only he had trusted her enough to talk to her about what happened between him and his dad. That was what hurt the most, the fact that Rook couldn’t come to her and express his feelings of doubt and, most likely, worthlessness. She thought they had a stronger bond than that.
She was so damn confused. A couple of hours ago, he was telling her how much he loved her, cared for her, and couldn’t live without her. What the hell happened when he went to see his father that made him do a complete one-eighty and throw away everything they had together?
It wasn’t until she was sitting on a bench overlooking the river that she realized she was walking aimlessly and still had Rook’s note in her hand. Why would he leave her a note, as if he was expecting her to catch him? Was this all a set up?
With shaky hands, she unrumpled the note and slowly opened it. Tears fell from her eyes as she read what he wrote to her. She didn’t understand…
I told you I was going to hurt you one day. I told you I wasn’t good enough, and I told you what we had would never last. I hope you believe me now.
6 months later…
“Move the strap over your nipple, Willow,” the photographer said, as he pulled his camera away from his face.
“Don’t sweat it, I don’t mind showing nipple. It’s hotter that way,” she said, as she looked down at her breasts that were barely covered by the leather strap that held her bass guitar around her neck.
“Well, the label minds,” the photographer said, as he continued to motion for her to cover up.
“I don’t see what the big deal is. If I want to show nipple, I should be able to show nipple,” Willow said, getting irritated with the photo shoot she’d been over the tits excited about.
When Pete, her manager for Twisted Perfection, approached her about the opportunity to pose for Playboy, she couldn’t help but kiss the man on the lips. She was a sexual being and worked hard on perfecting her body, so being able to show it off to the world was very exciting to her. There was only one thing standing in her way of going all out, her label. They put a bunch of restrictions on what was appropriate and what wasn’t. Why they took nipples off the table was beyond her; everyone loved a good nip slip.
The label was way too damn strict. It wasn’t like she was about to lay on the ground, strip down to her ankles and spread her damn legs for the world to see. All she wanted was a little nipple action, not to show off her lady cactus to the world, nothing wrong with that.
“I know, sweetheart,” Declan, the photographer, said. “Believe me, I would love to capture that perfect body of yours without any obstructions, but your label would have my head.”
Sauntering toward Declan, Willow ran her fingers up his shirt and said, “Maybe you and I can have a private session…”
Declan’s green eyes roamed up and down her body, clearly interested in what he saw. With a lick of his lips, he said, “That can be arranged.”
“Step away,” Pete’s voice boomed from the side as he came forward, holding his phone in his hand and his iPad in the other. “Declan, you’re here for one reason and one reason only, to take pictures, so I suggest you get back to your job, or I can make sure you never take another picture of Willow ever again.”
Straightening, Declan cleared his throat and stepped away from a persistent Willow to check on his camera.
With fury lacing her eyes, Willow turned to Pete and said, “Seriously Pete? You’re such a damn twat swat. You never let me have any fun.”
Pete leaned forward and said, “If you want the label to continue to shine gold up your ass, I would suggest you listen to them, because one wrong move will have you packing your bags and heading back to that rathole apartment you came from. They’re not happy about this photo shoot, so do what they say, and keep the photographer out of it. He has a bad reputation.”
Pete, the ever present reminder that Willow had to keep her head on straight, once again, dried up the raging libido she had going on. Frankly, she was getting sick of it. Now that Twisted Perfection had wrapped up their second tour, their popularity was soaring, and they were about to start working on their second album. They hit celebrity status overnight, and all this photo shoot was doing was boosting the popularity they had developed. The moment all their male fans saw her spread in Playboy, Willow knew, without a doubt, that they would increase their popularity that much more.
Annoyed with her manager, she rolled her eyes at him and went back to get in position. She adjusted her breasts, something Pete didn’t mind watching her do—pervert—and placed the leather straps over her nipples…just like she was asked. When Declan returned, Willow could see the slight disappointment in his features at her two best attributes being covered up. She made a note to get his phone number later because he was damn fine.
Dark, almost black hair curled around his forehead and ears, his thick but well-trimmed beard lined his jaw, and those intense green eyes captured her in a way that had her clenching her legs together, wishing that he would take her back to her dressing room.
“That’s it, Willow. Look at me with those sultry eyes,” Declan directed, as he moved around her.
Her bass was low enough that she was covering up the southern region, and the straps of leather covered up her breasts, but the rest of her was exposed.
With determination, Willow ran her hands up her neck and into her hair, where she lifted her arms and moaned, while her hands ran through her long blonde strands.
“Yes,” Declan said, as he got closer and started taking more pictures. “Part your lips and look at me, love.”
Taking direction well, Willow did as she was told and practically made love to the man standing only a few feet away from her. If she couldn’t have him right then and there, then she was going to leave him one stroke away from orgasm.
Removing her bass over her head and exposing her naked self, she gave the studio crew quite the show as she turned around to show off her ass. She wrapped her bass against her back and held it in the crook of her elbows so her breasts jutted out and her ass was on display. She turned ever so slightly, so the camera only caught a slight bit of side boob.
“So hot, so fucking hot,” Declan said, while his finger went crazy with taking pictures. “That’s exactly what I want.”
Pleased with herself, Willow glanced down at Declan’s penis and noticed a definite bulge in his pants. The obvious arousal she was able to elicit from him was even more of a turn on than the sweat that was starting to form at the top of his forehead. She was torturing him, and she loved every little moment of it.
“I think we’re good,” Suri, the director of the photo shoot said, as she got out of her director’s chair and walked toward Willow. “We got all the shots we needed. Willow, you were fantastic. Thank you.”
With an infectious grin, Willow replied, “Thank you. I had fun.” A production assistant took her bass and handed her a robe that she loosely wrapped around her body, still allowing a great view of her cleavage to show, something Declan couldn’t stop looking at. “Please keep me in mind for future shoots.”
“We will,” Suri said, while shaking Willow’s hand and then walking off to talk to Pete.
Turning toward the man whose eyes were blazing over her skin, she leaned toward him and played with the collar of his shirt. “I had a blast, Declan. I’m sure your assistants have my number?”
Nodding his head slowly, while blatantly staring at her cleavage, he said, “Yes, love, they do.”
“Can I assume that you will be using it?”
Biting his lip, he nodded. “You can fucking count on it.”
“Good,” she patted his cheek and winked at him. “I look forward to it, sexy. Thanks for a fun time, today.”
The need to leave him desperate for her touch was overpowering, so she leaned in and lightly ran her fingertips up the zipper of his pants. The rock hard length she felt underneath the jean material was an aphrodisiac, spurring her on to want more of him, but instead of taking what she wanted, she left it at that, a slight touch…and walked away. She wasn’t stupid; she knew the art of seduction.
While she walked to her dressing room, she could feel the heat that was pouring through her body. The slickness between her thighs and the light throb that was building up in the pit of her stomach were begging her to take care of the intense sexual chemistry she’d just shared with Declan. She denied herself, though, because she wanted to leave Declan begging and hungry for her, and by the look on his face, she’d done just that.
When she got to her dressing room, she scooped up her phone and started working through her emails. Their last tour was a huge success, not that their first one wasn’t; it just hadn’t ended as well as she had hoped.
After Rook pulled the biggest asshole move on the planet, both bands separated, finished up the tour, and went their own ways. Occasionally, Kaid and Landon would hang out, or she would see the guys, but they never spent too much time together, with the exception of one person.
One of the Shattered Souls actually spent many nights with her, which she couldn’t be more pleased about, but their relationship was purely sexual with no strings attached, just the way she liked it.
Now that their second tour was over with, they had a little more free time on their hands. Hence, the photo shoot for Playboy. So, she was either helping Maisy and Kaid on some beats for songs or getting fucked up against her headboard.
The unexpected turn in Willow’s life fr
Foster care wasn’t all daisies and sunshine; no, it was beyond fucked up. The only reason she survived was because she met Kaid and Maisy, and even then they had it rough. They were still abused, locked in closets without dinner, and cold for a percentage of their lives, even though they lived in Southern California.
Once they left the foster care system, they had no education, no opportunity, and no savings; all they had were Willow’s breasts and a dream. She might have flashed her way to stardom, but she wouldn’t take it back for a second. She would have done anything to get to where she was now, wrapped in a silk robe, eating from a basket of fruit, and drinking purified water. It was the simple things that she appreciated.
When Maisy came back to their hotel room after that horrible day, Willow, for sure, thought all her dreams were shattered right then and there because the dickhead, Rook, couldn’t keep it in his pants. But, for some reason, Shattered Souls rallied around Rook, put on a professional face, and moved forward with the last couple of concerts.
That was the one thing that Willow couldn’t quite grasp, why Grey, Cruz, and Landon would all defend Rook. He cheated on Maisy, blatantly planned it and cheated on her. It was despicable.
After the tour was over, Shattered Souls dispersed in all different directions. Grey went back home to be with his parents and get away from everything, Quinn and Landon took off to some exotic location, Rook bolted and has yet to be found, and Cruz, well…
There was a knock on her dressing room door that startled her from her thoughts. She gathered her robe together, set her phone down, and went to her door. When she opened it, she wasn’t expecting to see Cruz standing on the other side of the door.
Fame by Meghan Quinn / History & Fiction have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes