“Should we get out of the pool?” She did not want to. It was nice floating with Vice’s hard body against hers. “No,” he lifted his sunglasses, watching the inside of the house. She heard voices and saw a group of people enter. “Ah, they brought the whole band,” he added, unbothered by the additions. “Hey!” Two-Way Street’s drummer James’ hair was an overgrown ash-blonde, and he wore a scruff of stubble on his face as if he had not bothered shaving for a week. She recognised him from the promotional videos and gossip pages. “No fair, Vice,” he complained already stepping out his shoes and pulling off his designer-faded t-shirt. He had the sort of physique that was naturally given to skinniness, she thought with envy, and with lean muscles that were reflective of his instrument’s demands. “I want to float with Mirage.” He shoved his jeans off his hips and waded into the pool in his underwear, completely uninhibited by the fact that he wasn’t wearing swimwear. “Beat you to it, James,
Vice was not surprised when Aaron called with the news that the label wanted a meeting to discuss their progress on the album. They were nervous, Aaron suggested, about two producers so new to the role handling such a major album for the label and just needed some reassurance. Vice had other thoughts. “Mr Rich is causing waves,” he said to Victor. “Well, we are prepared for that, aren’t we?” Victor was not flustered. “So, we will go, let him try to bring us down, and show him up.” Mirage spent half an hour on the phone to her lawyer, and then another twenty minutes talking to Aaron when she was told. They leaned against the kitchen bench and watched her pace the patio, on the phone, her body language growing tenser by the minute. “Something went down,” Vice murmured. “What do we know about Mr Rich?” “Leans more towards popstars, seems to like young women as artists,” Victor replied, bracing his arms against the bench, and leaning into them. “Solid results as a producer, but Mirag
The driver opened the door and Victor slid out, reaching a hand back to help her out. She caught the flash of light as photographs were taken. She always thought the label notified the media when meetings were held so that a photographer was on site to snap stars coming and going through its doors, advertising the star drawing power of the label. Vice linked his arm through hers and she felt Victor’s hand resting warm against her lower back. “Smile,” Vice said through his teeth as he flashed the photographer a wide grin, and she plastered a bright smile on her face in an almost automatic reaction. The two men changed angles, maximising the photo opportunity, laughing, and chatting to the photographers cheerfully, answering questions thrown at them with a comfortable ease. “We are working with Mirage on her next album,” Vice schmoozed to the woman photographer to the left. “It is a very exciting piece of work.” “Yes, it is coming along,” Victor responded to the man on the other sid
The music pounded out of the nightclub, and the lights flashed through the open doors guarded by burly, black clad bouncers. The line-up was extensive, the waiting club goers bouncing on the spot with excitement, trying to catch the attention of Vice, Victor and Mirage as they posed on the pavement in front of the entrance. Mirage laughed and shimmied for the cameras, sending the silver tassels on her dress dancing. “I have my producers here tonight,” she said in answer to a question. “We are taking a break from recording my next album,” she pressed herself against Vice’s side and pouted for a photo. “Mirage!” Someone from the roped off queue into the club called out her name and she excused herself to chat with her fans, posing for a selfie photo before returning to Victor and posing for another photographer. “Yes,” Victor answered a question thrown at him from the photographer’s ranks. “We are producing Mirage’s next album. It has an edgier sound than her previous albums, which w
“F-k!” Vice was breathless, and she thought that, like her, he was cresting on the edge of coming. She could feel the throb of him against her. Her lipstick stained his lips, and the sight of it smeared across his gorgeous mouth was so erotic that she shuddered, causing him to moan, his eyes going to half-mast. Victor lifted her off Vice’s lap and placed her handbag onto her lap, retrieving the makeup wipes and passing one to Vice along with the makeup compact. Victor took out her powder and brushed it lightly along her t-zone, before applying her lipstick for her, making the appropriate face at her as he painted her lips. Of course, she thought with a smile, they would know about makeup, too. Vice returned the compact to the handbag and shoved the makeup wipes into the bin. Victor adjusted her dress and met her eyes with a grin. “Perfect again,” he told her, his fingers brushing lightly across her cheek in a caress. He slid back into his seat as the limousine slowed to a crawl, e
Mirage checked her online profile and saw that her last photo with Vice and Victor was trending. As Aaron had suggested, she had been filling her online profiles with photos of her time in the studio, and selfies with Vice and Victor, sample clips of her music, and musical bloopers to entice her fans. And it was working. Combined with the professional photographs of their nights out clubbing, there was a huge hype building around her album, and the edgier sound and topic. She set the phone down on the hall table, flicked her hair out over her shoulders, and dropped her robe, draping it over the back of the couch where they sat around Vice’s laptop, as she walked towards the pool. “Holy f-k,” she heard Vice say, his voice dropping a decibel. She did not have to check to see if they followed her as she stepped out on the patio and strolled down the steps into the pool. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that they were shedding their clothing at almost manic speed. “A glass o
Mirage rolled onto her back beside Victor, and he rested his head against hers so that their hair tangled together. “Aaron is messaging me about touring,” she told him, looking up at the ceiling. “You and Vice have to work on your next album.” “Hmm,” he linked their hands. “We will work it out, Mira.” “Will we?” She wondered. “What is this exactly?” She asked the question hesitantly. It had lingered in the background since their night clubbing, but she had not dared to ask it, not wanting to hear the answer if it was not the one that she wanted to hear. “Have you ever heard of polyandry?” He asked, his tone quiet. “No,” she admitted. “It is when one woman and two or more men share a household,” he explained. “You might have heard of polygamists…” “Yes,” she frowned it was normally not a flattering term. “Well, this is it’s cousin. This isn’t… casual for us,” he rolled onto his side to face her. “We didn’t start this as… titillation, Mira. It is a relationship, not a casual f-k.
Mirage saw Mr Rich enter the dance studio in the mirror as she finished the track with her backing dancers. It was like being stabbed in the gut with an icy blade for him to appear so unexpectedly, cheerfully greeting those in her crew that he knew from previous tours, casual and easily confident, as if he had every right to be there. She took a drink from her water, and wiped herself off on her towel, ignoring him until he crossed the dance floor to her. “F-k off,” she told him, without looking at him. “You shouldn’t be here.” “Now, that is a bit hostile,” he replied smoothly. “You have had a bit of a bad attitude over the last twelve months, as your music demonstrates. Become a bit sour. You know what they say, sugar catches more flies than vinegar.” “I am not interested in flies. Buzz off.” “I am here as a favour, you would be wise to be more polite,” he leaned against the wall. “My car is out front. Join me for a meal, and we will talk business.” She rounded on him. “You thin
Vixen stacked her boxes against the wall in the new apartment. Office. Apartment. Whatever. She was relatively sure that Thomas did not know about this building, as his sexuality had been Gregory’s closely held secret. She knew that Gregory had made Andrew make the purchase disappear off the books. The accountant had been very helpful from his sandy, sunny, retirement.And that was all that mattered. That she and her boy toys would be safe.“Alright?” Shadow paused by her, carrying a box. He had taken off his shirt, pushing it into his waistband, and his face was sweaty, his arms and chest dirty as the dust from the boxes mixed with his sweat, leaving behind streaks.She smiled at him with false brightness. “Fine.”He was still worried about her.She had made choices that she did not regret, but they had come with a cost, and she had paid it. Broken boy toys, she thought, and a broken Domme. But she was a Fixer, and she would f-king fix herself, along with her boys.She saw the number
Raven opened his laptop on his normal Friday morning table after checking that its surface had been wiped free of spills and crumbs. He was glad of the quiet moment - it had been a chaotic week of packing up Vixen’s apartment. They had hired a moving truck and moved the furniture out themselves, a b-tch of a job, but they had not wanted any trail that someone could follow to the office building, so had decided that it was better not to hire removalists and keep the move off record.They had also hired an architect to begin putting together plans for the band’s apartments in the building, and the smaller ones that they would lease out to others. There were eighteen floors, plus the basement level in which the sex club was located, so the building would eventually be a good income for them, though, from what Gregory had left Vixen, they probably wouldn’t need it.It had been fun and interesting to explore the building and basement with Vixen and Shadow, to spend an evening drinking cham
The approach to Gregory’s house was blocked off, and the news reporters had been pushed back to a point beyond view of the house, where the trees were set back from the road, leaving a gravel edge convenient for parking. Shadow had to park far back from the blockade, behind rows of news vans, support vehicles, a couple of ambulances on standby, and the cars of curious passers-by, and they worked their way through news crews and thrill seekers alike as they made their way to the police-guarded rope.“Anything?” Raven asked Shadow who had his phone to his ear, redialling Vixen’s phone for the one hundredth time since the news story. He rose onto his tip toes, craning his neck, searching through the crowds of police and SWAT officers behind the barricade, looking for Vixen. “What colour was her hair today?”“Rings out,” Shadow shook his head. His face was pale. “I can’t remember man,” he added. “Blonde, I think. Though my mind has totally shut down, and maybe that was yesterday? Blonde,
Vixen touched her brow as she drove between the rows of police cars and black SWAT vehicles to the gates. “No need to stand to attention, fellows,” she murmured under her breath. There was a flurry of activity around her. Speed was of the essence, she knew. There was always the risk that one of Thomas’ associates would drive up the road and spot them. All it would take was one phone call at the wrong time.“All good Tempie?” Claudia said in her ear.“Just admiring the view,” Tempie replied. “Lots of beef on the side of the road today, makes a girl a bit hungry, you know?”Claudia chuckled. “Keep that spirit up, Tempie. Not long now, hey? And then this will be done.”Tempie wound down the window at the gate and pressed the intercom button, smiling for the cameras, as if a man in camouflage was not crawling along the side of her car. The gates opened, and she eased her way forward, hoping that there were no limbs or other body parts in her way and bracing for a bump and a scream.In the
“Look, Tempie,” he gripped her shoulders, pulling her until she had no choice but to look at him, using his strength against her for the first time, but trying to be gentle about it. “I’ve got police contacts, and some big shit is about to go down. I don’t want you there when it happens. I care about you and Shadow. I don’t want to see you both mixed up in this.”“Gregory’s dying,” she replied calmly. “I’m not leaving him to die alone, Raven, with just employees around him.”“Tempie,” he pleaded, lowing his head until his forehead rested against hers. “Listen to me for once. Please. Don’t go.”“Raven, I need to get dressed,” she shrugged his hold off, and her disregard enraged him. He had tried asking nicely, he thought, he would have to insist.“For f-k sakes,” he growled. “I’ll chain you to that f-king bed if I have to Tempie. You are not going.” He caught her back up. “It’s too dangerous. You. Are. Not. Going. That’s it. Final.”“Raven!” She pulled away from him sharply and pulled
Midday Friday, Raven was stalking a surveillance target when his phone rang. He glanced at the display. Vice. “Hey,” he said putting the phone onto speaker so he could take photos if the target came into sight.“Raven, sweet boy.” It was Nicola, Vice’s mum. Raven checked the read out on the phone. Definitely Vice’s number.“Nicola,” he said warmly. “Have you stolen Vice’s phone?”“No, I am looking after it for him,” she replied. “Something has happened Raven. I am guessing that you have not been listening or watching the news.”“No,” Raven felt a cold fist close around his heart. He put the camera down and picked the phone up, taking it off of speaker. “What happened, Nicola? Are Vice and Victor okay?”“They are fine,” she assured him. “But we are at the hospital. Miranda was shot this morning.”“Holy f-k.” Raven was shocked. “Is she okay?”“She lost a lot of blood, but she is a strong girl. It was a shoulder wound. Some man from her recording label who has been causing her grief. He
“Alright,” Vixen told herself as the gates to Gregory’s house opened to admit her. “It is easy.”“We will be here with you,” Detective Callahan said in her ear. Vixen adjusted her hair to cover the earpiece. It was skin coloured and barely noticeable, but if she were caught with it, it would not only give away the entire plan, but also her part in it.“That is nice, but we both know there is nothing you can do if I get busted. Not without giving away twelve months of investigation, right? So, you are not going to come riding to my rescue if I get into trouble.”“Have you changed your mind?” Claudia sounded strained.“No,” Vixen eased the Ferrari into the parking spots. “No. This will make Miranda safe, and you promised to leave Gregory alone, so no, I have to do this.” She drew in a deep breath and fixed her lipstick, before picking up her handbag, and opening the car door.She adjusted the mask on her face, and flicked her hair over her shoulders, before strolling up to the front doo
Kissing Shadow was no different to kissing a woman, at least the mouth part, Raven thought. Sure, there was a slight prickle of stubble where there was not normally, but Shadow’s lips were soft, and his mouth hot, his tongue against Raven’s was no different.But Raven was used to being the taller partner, to leaning over someone, being the one to lean back in order to kiss was new. To grip a man’s hips and tug him closer was new too. To feel Shadow’s hard on against him, different.Shadow could kiss as well as he gave head. His hands cupped Raven’s face, the big palms warm against his skin, and he sucked on Raven’s tongue in a way that made desire curl up from the soles of Raven’s feet into his groin and his heart pound faster against his ribs.It was like being bound to Vixen’s bed, the balance of power had shifted in the experience, and Raven’s responsibility diminished. Shadow might be a sub, but his experience and size made him dominant between them.Shadow eased the kiss, brushin
In the morning, Vixen left the two boys curled up in bed. Raven’s eyes opened briefly as she left the shower, before he closed them again. Shadow wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, and snuggled into Raven’s dark hair.“Aww,” she leaned over to deliver them kisses, breathing in the warm scent of their skin. “Snuggly boys.”“Don’t go,” Raven tried to pull her back into bed, but she laughed and eased away with lingering kisses.“I must, my pet.”Raven heaved a sigh. “It’s not even eight.”“Do you have to work today?” She wondered as she sat on the edge of the bed to lace up her boots.“Should do,” he muttered, lured to the edge of sleep by Shadow’s hot body against his. “Have a surveillance job that gets active around ten.”“Should I set you an alarm?” She offered.He groaned pressing his face into the pillow. She took that as a yes and programmed the smart device on the bedside to wake him at nine thirty.She paused in the doorway in order to look at them with a feelin