Read Rage Online

Authors: Michelle Pace,Tammy Coons

Tags: #Romance, #Music

Rage (19 page)

TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

rail to see if anyone was on the sidewalk below. When the can-

vas somehow landed close to the dumpster, Steph threw her arms

in the air and shouted “score!”

Steph was at her laptop, preparing to send private pictures

of Phillip to the tabloids, when Cheyenne yanked the computer

off the table. It came unplugged in the process and Cheyenne

rolled the cord around her hand.

“No. Don’t sink to his to his level. Go take a fucking show-

er, and if you can still get a brush through your hair, do so. We need to go have a drink.”

“Right on. I could use a drink,” Steph agreed and vanished

into the bathroom. Cheyenne took advantage of the opportunity

to hide Steph’s laptop in the guestroom closet in case she had

any other bright ideas. She made a quick call to Scot to check on Liam and let him know she was staying a few days.

They proceeded to the nearest café, chatting about every-

thing else in the world but Fury. After dinner and a bottle of

wine, they wandered into a nearby wine bar and had another.

They were chuckling about how Steph’s former assistant, Ger-

ald. was now more of a diva than she was. Steph was smiling

from ear to ear at Cheyenne’s news that he was now the lead

photographer for
The Sound Wave.

It was at that moment that an extremely unfortunate-looking

girl appeared in front of them. She proceeded to shout angrily at Steph in Italian. When Cheyenne told at her to calm down, the

girl slapped Steph hard across the face and screamed “He cut his hair because of you, you bitch!” Steph grabbed her cheek defensively as two men stood and aggressively showed the girl the

exit. Steph turned to Cheyenne. Her expression was eerily se-

rene.

“This is why I never leave my apartment. Everywhere I go,

he’s thrown in my face. I can’t escape him.”

“You should have called me.” As Cheyenne dumped ice in-

to a cloth napkin and pressed it to Steph’s cheek, the two men

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returned from throwing the girl out. They struck up a conversa-

tion with Steph in Italian, and soon Steph was laughing appreciatively.

“They called her a ‘hairy beast.’ They want us to go with

them to check out some club on the next street over. We should

go.”

Two hours and many drinks later, Cheyenne was dragging

Steph from the club. Cheyenne was hailing a cab when she saw

that the two men were following them. Cheyenne had waved her

giant rock on her finger around to make it obvious that she was

married, so they had both turned on Steph. Steph seemed to

bathe in the attention and had been dancing way too suggestively with both of the men. Though Cheyenne didn’t understand the

language, the way their hands were all over Steph was pretty

universal. It didn’t take a linguist to see that they both thought they’d be sharing Steph tonight.

“Oh, hell no!” she yelled, grabbing Steph by the arm and

plunging toward the door.

“Cheyenne!” Steph blurted as Cheyenne shoved her into the

cab.

“That was a grand performance. I give it a ten.” Cheyenne

watched the men wander back into the club as they sped away.

She told the driver in her terrible Italian how to get to Steph’s place.

“I thought you wanted me to get out and have some fun. “

Cheyenne remembered craving a cigarette then more than

ever. “There’s fun and there’s a public ménage à trois.”

“In Italian they call it a trio.” Steph giggled tipsily. Steph’s cheeky tone set Cheyenne off.

“Grow the fuck up, Steph. You’re almost twenty-seven

years old, not twenty-one. Act your age.”

Steph looked stricken. “Why are you mad at me?”

Cheyenne swiveled her head toward her, and all the pent up

hurt of the past few months burst from inside her. “My goddamn

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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

therapist warned me that some of my single friends would be

gone when I married Scot, but I never thought you’d be one of

them. I know you feel awkward being around him because of the

break up with Phillip, but honestly, I’m hurt that you haven’t

come to see Liam.”

Steph looked at Cheyenne, her mouth agape. Cheyenne ex-

pected her to say something snarky, but Steph just blinked a few times.

“I just can’t see Liam. I can’t look at him.” The cab arrived,

and Cheyenne was still shaking her head, dumbfounded and an-

gry as they climbed out.

“I couldn’t pry him out of your arms at the hospital. What

changed?” She shouted at her.

It was there in front of her apartment that Steph collapsed

into hysterical sobs. Cheyenne was so shocked and concerned

that she considered calling a doctor. She moved to her and put

her arms around her, unsure of what else to do. Steph choked out the one sentence.

“I was pregnant. Cheyenne. It wasn’t my appendix.”

Cheyenne remembered every detail of that night in vivid

Technicolor. Though she hadn’t slept a wink, it was branded into her brain. She’d managed to get Steph upstairs and made her

some coffee. Steph told her everything: her lie of omission to

Phillip, the bogus eating disorder, telling her agent about the ba-by, Cedric’s force feedings, and finally about the daughter who

had been genetically flawless.

After Steph passed out from wine and exhaustion, Chey-

enne immediately called Cedric. It was 4 a.m.

“Cheyenne? What’s wrong?” He sounded worried.

“How fast can you get to Milan?”

Cheyenne heard the bathroom door open and watched as

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Steph came out in a fluffy white bathrobe. She crossed to her bed and sat down beside Liam, very gently stroking his hair. He

rolled over onto his tummy without waking.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Steph asked softly,

glancing up from Liam.

“Why the hell haven’t you called Christopher?” Cheyenne

demanded in a hushed whisper.

“Because I don’t know what to say to him.” Steph’s voice

was cool and firm.

Cheyenne paused, knowing she could be headed into chop-

py waters. “Is that because of Phillip?”

“No.” Steph replied without a moment’s hesitation. “Chris-

topher told me he loved me, and I hung up on him. That’s what

this is about, and that’s all this is about.”

“So, once again, you scurried away again from a man that

loves you.”

Steph rolled onto her back and looked at the ceiling. “I’m

pretty sure I didn’t scurry away from Phillip. Pretty sure Kevin scurried away from me. If I remember correctly, you were the

scurrier, Cheyenne.”

Cheyenne ignored Steph’s factual observation and leaned

forward. “Do you love Christopher?”

Steph shrugged. Cheyenne thought she looked like a stub-

born teenager.

“Why is it so hard for you say those three words?” Chey-

enne asked. A light rapping on the door interrupted them. Steph

looked in the direction of the door nervously, but when Chey-

enne answered it—it was Scot.

“Is it okay if I come in?” he asked, and his dark eyes had a

secret conversation with Cheyenne. They seemed to ask two

questions at once.

Is everything cool?

and

Are
you coming to bed soon?

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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

“Yeah.” Cheyenne replied, affirmative on both fronts. He

made toward the bed to pick Liam up. Steph shook her head.

“He’s fine here with me. You two go.” She murmured. Scot

smiled and grabbed Cheyenne’s hand.

“Thanks Steph.” He was slightly out of breath as he pulled

Cheyenne out of the room and toward their four post bed.

Once inside their room, Scot scooped Cheyenne up in his

arms. Cheyenne let out a small giggle as he lay her back on the

bed. Scot stood up and removed his tie eagerly. He watched as

Cheyenne bit her lip, her chocolate brown eyes pensive. For a

fleeting moment, he wondered if she was onto his secret. Then

he dismissed his concerns. He’d seen this look many times since

Liam’s birth. Her agile mind constantly ran an obstacle course,

working to figure him out. He smiled at her lovingly, appreciat-

ing this and all aspects of her. She slid up on the bed a rested her head on the pillow. She looked absolutely delectable.

“You look unbelievable.” Scot licked his lips as anticipation

coursed through his veins. Cheyenne scoffed and then tried to

wipe the expression from her perfect face.

“Don’t make me spank you, Cheyenne.” He smiled as he

said it, knowing she wouldn’t consider that a punishment. She

always enjoyed a bit of pain with her pleasure.

He crawled up the mattress to her, giving her small kisses

on the parts of her body that were exposed. Once at her mouth,

he gave her a gentle kiss and then began nuzzling her neck. She

purred softly under him. He raked his beard against her cheek,

and she cried out, bowing her back to press herself against his

growing hardness. She’d told him many times never to shave his

beard.

Scot placed his mouth over hers and their tongues tangled

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RAGE

and teased one another. He felt Cheyenne’s legs wrap around his

waist as she roughly grasped handfuls of his hair. He gave her a grind and then ran his hand up her thigh. Cheyenne moaned into

his mouth; he returned it with one of his own. He hooked his

fingers on the waist of her panties and slid them off slowly, tossing them over his shoulder. With a crooked smile, he gnawed

tauntingly on his lip. They locked eyes as she trembled beneath

him. He rolled over onto his back pulling Cheyenne with him.

She straddled him and he stroked her long, perfect legs with his fingertips. He looked up at her and cupped her face. She gave

him a sly smile then slid her dress off over her head. He ran his hand down over her supple breasts and then over her stomach.

She glanced down at her mid-section nervously, then back to his

eyes. He hated the self-conscious expression that played on her

lovely features.

“I love you” he assured her, pulling her face down to his

and kissing her hungrily. Scot wrapped his hands in her hair and gave it a tug, his need for her escalating with every passing second. Cheyenne let out a small whimper, but Scot knew it wasn’t

pain…well, at least not entirely.

He rolled her over onto her back and practically ripped his

remaining clothes off. He couldn’t wait to be inside of her to-

night without fear of interruption. He positioned himself over her and slowly entered her. He could tell by the ravenous look she

wore that his leisurely approach was driving her crazy.

“Please,” she begged. It was Scot’s turn to shoot her a sly

smile. His hands dug into the flesh of her thighs as he pulled her harder to him. He continued moving, slowly at first, but after

much more begging from Cheyenne, he quickened his pace and

thrust deeply into her.

Her responses to him were feverish, as she bucked wildly

against him. As he took her nipple between his teeth, she thrust harder, with desperate moans. He felt her explode around him,

her nails ripping across his shoulder blades in an instinctual ani-125

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