His head tilted, and he smiled darkly. “I have my memories from last night. For now, those are enough. In fact, thinking of last night is what gave me the bright idea.”

He kissed my neck again, his tongue darting out to lick, and I let out a breathy sigh, my hands wandering eagerly to his belt buckle. I had it undone within seconds, and before I knew it, I was lowering my knees to the wood-panelled floor and pulling his thick length from his pants. He was hard and beautiful; I whispered my lips over the head of his cock, and his whole body shuddered.

“Christ,” he hissed in a sharp breath.

I let my tongue slip out, giving him teasing little licks, and his hands went to my hair, my face, my neck, tracing my skin with a look of wonder in his eyes. That look made me feel powerful, and I held his gaze in mine as I slowly lowered my mouth onto him, taking him in inch by inch. He groaned, one hand fisting in my hair, the other caressing my cheek. I took in as much of him as I could, bobbing my head slowly up and down. Somebody’s laughter sounded from outside, and it made my heart pound. We might have been doing this in a dark corner backstage, but it still wasn’t private. Someone could walk by at any moment.

A pleasurable thrill ran through me at the thought. I knew that giving someone head in a public place wasn’t exactly on my list, but right then it felt like it should be. I was high on the act. On Jack. On being here with him in the moment.

This felt like living.

I swirled my tongue around his head, and he swore profusely, the deep, raspy words fuel to the fire of my arousal. I pressed my thighs together in an effort to relieve some of the ache, but it was pointless. The only antidote to this torture was Jack’s touch. I let him fall from my mouth to catch my breath and ran my tongue along his length. He had one hand braced against the wall behind us for support. When I took him back in, he growled and cupped my jaw tightly.

“I wish you could see how you look.”

I held his gaze, and his eyes grew hooded as they travelled over my form before fixing on my mouth again. “Touch yourself,” he urged in a deep, naughty whisper.

I breathed in sharply through my nose at his command, and there was something in the way he looked at me that made me feel beautiful and sensual enough to do it. I let my hand fall to my thighs, then under my dress. Jack’s attention scorched as he watched me find myself, watched me soothe some of the need he was inciting.

“That’s it, flower, feel it.”

I moaned on his cock as I found my sweet spot and rubbed, desperate for release. For some reason, it made my desire to make him come grow even stronger, and my mouth moved on him in earnest. I slid two fingers inside myself and sighed. The air felt slow and thick like honey, like I was in a waking dream. My mouth and my fingers grew frenzied as I felt my own orgasm building as well as Jack’s. I could tell by how he became even harder in my mouth, how his growled words and whispered sentiments began to merge into one.

I never looked away from him when I came with startling intensity, and a few seconds later, hot liquid hit my mouth. I swallowed before I could think about it as Jack pulled me up to stand and wrapped his arms around me tight. His pulse was racing.

“That was incredible, thank you,” he said, a little breathless, his voice full of gratitude. Then he began to softly laugh. It wasn’t a mocking sort of laughter; it was a gentle, tender kind. “That’s going to be etched into my memory for the rest of my days, Lille. Just looking at your lips is going to be a struggle.”

I wasn’t sure why, but thinking about that made me smile.

***

Later that day, we were just arriving at the gazebo for dinner, hand in hand, when a loud ruckus sounded. I’d thought the scene Julie had made this morning was enough drama for one day, but seemingly not. People stood nearby as King bulldozed around the space, tossing over tables and chairs, fury and misery melding into one as angry tears ran down his face. He was on a rampage and drunk beyond measure.

“Where is it?” he growled, the rumble of his voice making the tiniest hairs on my arms stand on end. “Which one of you took it?!” He glared at those standing by, pointing accusatory fingers at anyone who dared make eye contact. My heart pounded and I swallowed deeply, wondering what the hell had happened.

“I swear to God, I’ll burn this place to the ground if I don’t find it,” he threatened. His body lost some of its tension as he slumped forward, bracing his hands on a table. “Thieves! You’re all a bunch of thieves! Will you try to steal everything from me? Strip every last pound of flesh from my bones until there’s nothing left?” Now he stopped pointing fingers at those around him and looked up to the sky as though talking to a higher power. “Have I not suffered enough for you? Have I not paid yet for my sins?”

The stark suffering and woe that encapsulated him despite his anger made my eyes prick a little with tears. A moment later, Marina was hurrying to him. He turned away when he saw her, as though ashamed of his behaviour, and she reached out to place a hand on his elbow. As she tugged on his arm, he slowly turned around, icy blue eyes full of heartache.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Marina asked in a surprisingly tender voice. “What happened?”

“They took it,” he said, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke. “Somebody took it.”

Marina began to rub his arm in a soothing manner. “Took what?”

“The picture. It’s all I have of her and now it’s gone.”

As I listened to him speak, my entire body startled with a sickening jolt. Oh, God. The picture. I still had his picture. I’d been meaning to give it back to him all day, but Jack had been distracting me so much that I’d forgotten. I felt for it in my pocket, fingers sliding over the worn edges of the paper. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like if I stepped forward now, King might try to attack me, thinking I stole the picture, when really I’d just found it and had every intention of giving it back.

“Jack,” I whispered, and his attention fell on me. “I think I know what he’s talking about. I think I have his picture.”

He stared at me for a moment before comprehension lit in his eyes and he held his hand out. “Give it to me.”

I pulled it from my pocket and did as he asked. “I didn’t steal it. I found it.”

“Don’t worry, Lille,” he said, looking down at the picture and taking in the image of the beautiful woman. “I’ll take care of it.”

With that he walked towards King, holding the picture out to him. “King, mate, look, is this what you’re searching for? I found it today. I’ve been looking for you to give it back.”

King’s eyes darted to Jack, and the moment he saw the picture, he swiped it from his hands. It was almost like everything else faded away as he held it close, peering down at the image. He blinked a few times, tears still on his face, as his body slumped to the ground and shook as though in agony. I frowned at the scene, my curiosity building to almost uncontainable levels. I wanted to know desperately who the woman in the picture was. It said on the back that her name was Alexis, but there were few other details. I had the feeling this woman had something to do with why King was the way he was. What on earth could have happened between them to bring him so low?

After a moment, Jack assisted Marina in helping King to stand, and they led him out of the gazebo. A couple of minutes passed before everyone had fixed the tables and chairs back in place, and then it was like nothing had even happened. It was more than a little bizarre. One of the women who did the cooking — I didn’t know her name, but I recognised her face — came and asked me if I’d like some stew and I nodded, asking for a bowl for Jack, too. I thought he’d be back as soon as he was done with King.