“Had a vasectomy,” I gritted out through my teeth, already having a hard time stopping myself from spilling inside her tight, wet heat. “Fuck. I took you three times last night, Trinity. Why am I still struggling to hold on to my control?”

  Her laugh only caused my balls to tighten that much more. “You think you have the control here?” Her pussy clenched around my shaft, holding tight before releasing. She did it again, sending me closer to the edge. “I hold all the power in this bed, Mr. Dawson.”

  My cock began spurting as soon as she called me Mr. Dawson. There was no holding back, not when she was purposefully milking my cock with her magical pussy.

  “Don’t stop,” she commanded. “Fuck me harder.”

  “Couldn’t stop even if I wanted to,” I grunted, pounding into her, filling her with more and more of my release. My cock was still hard as stone. Hell, I wasn’t sure if the damned thing had gone down at all since I’d met her. When it came to her, I had a permanent erection.

  As my come mixed with hers, I had a moment when I was pissed at myself for having gotten the vasectomy. I should have waited for her. Should have given her at least one baby that we could have raised and spoiled together. A part of the both of us that would live on once we’d passed into the hereafter together.

  Then I realized it only meant I wouldn’t have to share her with anyone else. She would be mine and only mine for the rest of my life, and that only had my balls tightening yet again. As I came for the second time, she cried out my name, joining me in the afterglow of euphoria.

  Minutes or maybe hours later, she slowly crawled out of bed. “You’ve just put me behind,” she grumbled, but I could hear the pleasure still ringing in her voice, as well as amusement. She couldn’t hide the divots of her dimples. I loved seeing them. Loved…her.

  “I need a shower and some coffee before I can get this circus moving on to the next city.” Standing, she paused as my come dripped down her inner legs. Glancing down at it, she rubbed her fingers through the mess and frowned. I enjoyed watching her rub it into her skin maybe a little too much. I wanted it to soak into every pore, so that her entire body knew exactly who it belonged to. But then she asked me a question that had me focusing on her lips again. “You had it confirmed that the vasectomy worked, right?”

  “That’s what the paperwork said,” I told her with a shrug, too content just watching her walk around naked. With her long, sex-tousled hair and her perfect body, I’d never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. “I had the procedure between deployments and got the confirmation while I was in Kuwait.”

  “Okay, then.” She started toward the bathroom.

  “It doesn’t bother you?” I called after her.

  I heard her turn on the shower to allow it to warm up, but a moment later, she stuck her head out of the bathroom. “What?”

  “Me having a vasectomy. It doesn’t bother you?”

  Her lips tilted upward, her dimples winking at me. “Why would it? We can have as much unprotected sex as we want and not have to worry about the consequences.”

  “You don’t want kids?”

  Her brow scrunched up for a moment as she considered her answer. “Honestly, I’ve thought about it on and off since I was a little girl. But as crazy as my work schedule is, I don’t think it would be fair to either a baby or myself to have one. I mean, okay, my mom and Aunt Emmie did great with dividing their time between this job and being mothers, but I’m not sure I could do both.”

  She gave a shrug and disappeared back into the bathroom, calling, “It would have to be the job or the kid for me. I couldn’t handle both at the same time. And right now, I’m more into my job than the idea of being a mom. I have my niece and nephew and the many honorary kids who call me Auntie Trinny. Usually if I get a hint of baby fever, I just offer to babysit Shaw and Jagger’s daughter, Grier, and by the end of the day, I’m cured.”

  The sound of water rushing over her naked body reached me, and I jumped out of bed. It was crazy, but I was jealous of anything but me touching her, including the shower. She was washing away our night and morning together, and my mind was turning chaotic, not liking that one little bit.

  10

  JARRETT

  When I jerked open the stall door, she gave me a sexy little smirk and stepped back, silently inviting me inside with her.

  Maybe I should have been relieved that she didn’t want kids, that the fact that I couldn’t give her babies didn’t bother her. But the thought of not having another Madalyn or Banks running around, this time a version that looked just like Trinity, caused the noise to come flooding back into my head, and I needed her to quiet it.

  I backed her against the shower wall before grasping her around the waist and lifting her. She instantly wrapped her legs around my waist, and I pumped inside her pussy, still coated with my earlier release. She lifted her hands, her fingers combing through my short beard before stroking around to the back of my neck and skimming her nails down my spine.

  That gentle touch calmed the chaos, silencing the noise in my head. It was a good thing we couldn’t have babies together, I reminded myself. I didn’t have to share her with anyone. If her full attention wasn’t on me in our spare time, I would lose my mind. The noise would come back, my peace would be broken.

  I needed her, all of her, just for me.

  “You are mine.”

  “Yours,” she repeated, stroking my neck gently while I pumped into her furiously.

  “I won’t share you with anyone. Ever.”

  “No,” she agreed, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, holding on, hugging me. “Never.”

  “Just you and me. For eternity.”

  “Yes, Jarrett, yes!” she cried, her pussy already spasming around my shaft.

  “Good girl.” I sank my teeth into the tender area where her neck and shoulder met. “That’s my good girl.”

  Her pussy clamped down harder, her walls fluttering around my girth at my words. “Ah, my sweet angel likes to be praised,” I murmured, licking away the sting of the mark I’d left on her skin. “Don’t you, baby?”

  “Y-yes,” she sobbed, her hips rising and falling on my shaft as I continued to pound her against the tiled wall.

  With one hand still at her waist, I grasped her hair tightly in the other, pulling her head back so I could see into those blue-gray depths as I spilled every drop I had left in me this time. “Come for me, my good girl. Come all over your man’s cock.”

  Her breath caught, her pupils dilating to the point that there was no color left. Just black surrounded by a pool of white. “Mine,” she panted. “Say you’re mine too.”

  Lowering my head, I touched my lips to her ear. “I’m yours, Trinity.”

  There was a convoy of buses and vans for the tour. None of the buses was big enough to sleep in comfortably, which was why everyone stayed at a hotel at each stop. Trinity was very efficient at her job. She knew who was supposed to be in which van, on which bus, and who wasn’t.

  With my men and me having been added to the long list of people to keep track of, she’d had to do a little rearranging so there was still room in each vehicle without everyone feeling cramped and, in some cases, all-out cranky.

  There were four kids, two nannies, and three sets of parents on one bus, but because of the incident from the night before, Jace and Kin St. Charles wanted two guards with them at all times. I understood why they were shaken up. If it were Madalyn or Banks, I would have been extra cautious as well.

  But the couple had agreed with Trinity when the four of us had a conversation about the paparazzi jerk-off, that they would definitely be getting Ali into therapy once they were back home. To prepare her mentally in case something like what had nearly happened went down again, for the guards who would now be shadowing her and her sister, and to help her deal with whatever else might pop up along the way.

  I put Briscoe and another one of my men on their bus, splitting the majority of the rest of them among the other bands and at least one with the roadies. I stuck with Trinity, who opted for the Blonde Bombshells’ bus, which was minus Roanna since she was on the other bus with her husband, son, and nanny. But the guitarist, Genesis, had her husband, Sam, with her. Sam was Kin St. Charles’s guitarist, and the two of them spent more time with their tongues down each other’s throats than actually breathing.

  Because the bus was already crowded, with two of Barrick’s men already on board, I didn’t add any of my own personnel. Trinity parked herself down at the end of one of the sofas beside the Blonde’s drummer, Aubree, and stayed on her phone for the majority of the trip to the next city.

  With me in the chair perpendicular to Trinity, only a few feet separated us, but it felt like miles. I wanted her seated on the arm of my chair—or better yet, on my lap. The need to have some part of my body touching her at every given minute was nearly too much to withstand, but I fought it, knowing that we needed to work.

  Then I opened my emails and was thankful she wasn’t close enough to read what was on my phone.

  I had one from Madalyn with all the information on the boarding school she wanted her brother and her to attend. There was a link to the academy’s website, along with a list of every faculty member, all the way down to the maintenance crew and grounds keepers. She’d even gone a step further and provided links to several real estate listings which happened to be close to Mia Barrick’s dance school.

  I barely skimmed through everything at first, because there was another email that had caught my attention just as I’d clicked on my daughter’s message. Trying not to grit my teeth, I saw the one my lawyer had forwarded to me from Mayra’s attorney. My soon-to-be ex-wife was trying to delay the divorce once again, this time by demanding half of the portion of my family’s assets that were protected by legal loopholes that prohibited my selling or even giving them away to anyone who wasn’t a Dawson by blood. Something Mayra knew firsthand, because she’d read my father’s will herself not long after we’d gotten married.

  Trying not to let my frustration bleed through, I sent a reply to my lawyer, letting him know that I had no control over that aspect of my wife’s demands and to forward anything regarding the issue of Dawson assets to the law firm that had drawn up the will. If it meant Mayra would sign the papers sooner, I would have given her everything she asked for without hesitation, but I couldn’t. Something she knew and was only using as a ploy to stay married to me longer.

  Once I’d dealt with that, I went back to Madalyn’s email and scrolled through the boarding school’s website. I sent the list of faculty members to Briscoe to do the background checks and then started looking at the houses my daughter was interested in being our new home together as a family of three.

  My gaze shifted from my phone to Trinity when she made a huffing noise.

  Maybe our new family of four.

  The thought hit me out of nowhere, but instead of scaring the hell out of me, I liked the idea. A lot, actually.

  With a sexy little grunt, she started typing away faster, and I just sat there watching her instead of the virtual open house video in the first listing’s link—the one my daughter had put extra emojis and exclamation points around to make sure I knew it was her favorite.

  Beside her, Aubree peeked over Trinity’s shoulder, reading what she was writing.

  “I didn’t know Baby Cage was on tour,” the drummer commented.

  “He’s on a mini, two-week one with Jags,” Trinity commented without looking up from her phone or pausing her speeding fingers over the screen. “They’re hitting a few of the major cities that aren’t stops for the summer tour. It’s just the two of them, with whatever local bands opening for them. Every stop sold out within minutes of tickets going on sale, so that means the summer tour is going to be crazy busy.”

  “But the fire-breather gave them their own tour manager, right? I mean, she wouldn’t let her son go off without a handler. Baby Cage might not be her favorite person, but she’s not going to allow her kid to head out without someone taking care of business.”

  “With Amara on bed rest, and a few other people out sick with the flu, we’re short-staffed at the moment,” Trinity explained. “Aunt Emmie sent one of the new hires that I trained last summer. They were with me during that entire tour. They all know how to handle Cannon and Piper if shit hits the fan.”

  London, the Blondes’ bassist, grunted. “Piper is with them? Is it wise to send a newbie into that chaos alone and expect anyone but you to come out unscathed?”

  “No, Piper is in New York at the moment. Which is why it’s so damn frustrating that this chick can’t deal with Cannon right now. He’s only at his worst when he’s with Piper.” Frustrated, she brushed her hair out of her face, still typing away one-handed. “And it’s not even the manager who’s messaging me. It’s Cannon. Complaining because the manager is… Ugh, hold on. I have to call him.”

  She paused talking long enough to lift the phone to her ear. “I don’t know what you expect me to do,” she snapped. “I’m in fucking Europe, Cannon!”

  “But you’re the boss,” I heard him yell back, and I leaned forward to listen better. I didn’t like him speaking to her that way. Or that he was speaking to her in general, really. Who the fuck was this guy to her?

  Her blue-gray eyes drifted up to me for the first time since the bus had started moving. She’d been shy about glancing at me even for a second, but I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know why. We couldn’t look at each other and not want to rip each other’s clothes off.

  Licking her lips, she quickly lowered her gaze. “Aunt Emmie, my mom, and Annabelle are the bosses,” she clarified. “I have very little authority—”

  “Well, you’re the next boss in line. Deny it all you want, but we all know the truth, Miss Heir to the Throne,” he snapped. My hands clenched, one into a fist, the other around my own phone, causing the device to protest. If he were close enough, I would have wrapped my hands around his throat for the tone he was using with her. “And you’re the only one who is bothering to respond to any of the calls or messages I’ve sent.”

  “Cannon, I have my own tour to deal with at the moment. You can handle everything for another week. When I get back, I’ll have a refresher course with all the newbies and make sure they know the dos and don’ts.”

  “But that doesn’t help me now, does it, Trin?” he grumbled. “Now, I’m going to be all over the stupid tabloids, and Piper is going to think I’m back to being douchebag number one.”

  “You are douchebag number one,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Something Piper has known her entire life. Why it matters now what she thinks of you, I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t really care.”

  “Ah, come on, Trin,” Cannon whined. “I’ve been doing better.”

  Her snort was adorable, and I hated that she was making it because of some dumbass on the other end of the phone. All her cute little laughs belonged to me. Every inch of her was mine, damn it. “You and I have different definitions of ‘better.’ Stop making stupid decisions, you dumb fuck.”

  “Trin, come on. Please. Just make this go away. Make her go away. Pretty, pretty please.”

  She dropped her head back against the sofa and glared up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to.”

  “I’m not hearing a no,” he crowed. “Ha! I knew you loved me!”

  “Of course I love you,” she said with an annoyed huff. “I don’t particularly like you at the moment, but I’ll always love your dumb ass.”

  A growl left me, causing all eyes except for the two guitarists still making out on the other end of the sofa to glance my way. Trinity’s blue-gray gaze drifted to me, and I noted the smirk that teased at her lips. Her dimples peeked at me for an all too brief moment, and as soon as they disappeared again, I wanted them back. Apparently, she liked my jealous noises.

  “So, you’ll get us another manager and make the new one understand that trying to climb into my bed is a big no-no?”

  “There’s no actual rule that managers can’t sleep with the clients. My mom is married to a client. So are Aunt Emmie and Annabelle. Even Amara is married to one.” She made a face. “But you’re right. She is technically sexually harassing you and letting the paps think it’s you doing the harassing. I’ll make some calls and get it sorted out. Aunt Emmie should have already dealt with it.”

  “She didn’t take me seriously when I complained. Maybe it was Jagger laughing in the background.”

  “Probably,” she agreed, massaging the bridge of her nose. “If he was laughing, then she most likely thinks this is a joke. Otherwise, she would have already lost her shit. Like I said, I’ll make a few calls. Don’t get mad if you don’t like the results, though.”

  “What does that mean?” he demanded, and Trinity grinned. How deep did those dimples go?

  Straight to my heart, a voice grumbled in the back of my mind, unhappy that she was flashing those dimples because she was smiling over someone else. They went as deep as my fucking soul.

  “There are only so many options left, Baby Cage,” she said sweetly.

  “Ah, fuck. Don’t—”

  She cut him off by ending the call.

  “What exactly is the other option?” Aubree asked, blond brows lifted high.

  “Aunt Emmie.”

  Aubree and London shared a mutually horrified look before throwing their heads back and bursting out laughing.

  I shifted in my chair, stretching out my legs until my foot touched Trinity’s. Jealousy continued to gnaw at my insides and I wanted all her attention solely on me, but she had work to do, and I needed to look through the house listings Madalyn sent me. For the moment, I would have to make do with just touching her like this.

  But as soon as I got her alone again, I was going to show her who she belonged to.

  11

  TRINITY

  Picking up the room keys, I walked out of the hotel to where everyone was already climbing off their buses or stepping out of a few of the vans. This hotel was smaller than some of the others, with every room booked solid, which meant that anyone who was used to having their own room was going to have to suck it up and bunk with a buddy.