“Because you’re an easy man to love, Rhett.” Thank you, Eden.

I kiss his lips and his radiant smile remains. And later when he brings me to the brink again as the sunlight starts to fill the room; Rhett’s words make my heart skip a beat.

“You’re an easy woman to love yourself, beautiful.”

I am now.

“But beautiful?”

“Mmmhmm?”

“About those shoes you wear during sex…”

More coming from Billy

in 2016!

Here is a preview of...

Concealed HEAT

Chapter One

“This shit stops here, Strut. It fucking stops here and right the hell now!”

“Jesus Robert, calm down—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm the fuck down!” Robert sighed before continuing. “You’re not only fucking with your career here, but mine too. I won’t tolerate you dragging my name through the mud because you can’t keep your shit together.”

“All right, all right, you’re right. Won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said the last time—the last half a dozen times.”

“I know, I know—”

“No, you don’t seem to know. I’m making some changes—”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What kinda changes we talkin’ about here, Robert?”

“I’m bringing in a new PR firm and they’ve already decided that you require a PA whose job is to keep you on the straight and narrow.”

“Now, Robert, you know I don’t do straight and narrow very well.”

“That’s the point, Strut.”

“I don’t know about this—”

“Take it or leave it.”

Strut felt his whole body go tense. He never cared for idle threats and this felt a helluva lot like one. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you go along with the changes, the personal assistant, and the all the alterations she deems fit or…” Robert left it open ended.

“Or what?”

“Or I’m out, Strut.”

“We have a contract, Robert; you can’t do that.”

“The hell I can’t! You’ve broken that contract several times. Legally? Legally, I can walk away and you’ll be the one who breached the contract—not me.”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Not at all,” Robert cautioned. “I’m outta here if you don’t go along with this. I won’t let you destroy my name, Strut, I won’t.”

He wanted to tell Robert exactly where he could stick that contract, but the man was right, and Strut knew it. He’d broken that contract on numerous occasions. This whole shit storm was on him. The missed concerts, the leaked sex video, the trashed hotel room—rooms— and lastly the destroyed tour bus. It was all on him and his shitty decisions and spineless self. Fuck! He’d done it numerous times—let people who didn’t give a shit about anything but his celebrity status fuck his life up.

Yet, he could never seem to tell them no. The whole point of playing shitty dive bars and fucking cocktail waitresses along the way was to reach the rock star status he’d finally attained as Strut, the lead singer for the hard rock band Deep Bend.

Now? He was on the cusp of losing it all; his agent, even his tour manager had threatened to leave last week. That meant if Jace, his tour manager, left, it was almost a guarantee that the management company would drop the band. Which meant tongues would wag and soon enough, their record deal would be in jeopardy. With a reputation slick as shit and twice as nasty, it’d be hell trying to get picked up by another label. How the hell had he let it get this damn far?

“Strut? You still there?”

“Ahh yeah, I’m here.” Rubbing his hand over his face repeatedly, he knew that he had no other choice, no other option. “I’ll go along with whatever I need to.” Even the words tasted sour on their way out.

“Good, glad to hear. Thursday, when you arrive in Chicago, your new PA will be waiting for you—as well as your new personal security—”

“Wait, what? I’ve already got Pitty.”

“No, you don’t. After last nights debacle at the Hyatt? Pitty’s been let go.”

“C’mon man! You’ve got to be kidding me, Robert?”

“No, I’m not kidding you at all, Strut. Not only was your personal bodyguard not even on the same floor you were, but he was in a room with a minor.”

Shit. “She was a minor?”

“Seventeen, Strut, seventeen years old.”

As bad news as it was for Pitty? Strut felt a blink of relief that he’d all but pulled the girl from his body and handed her off to his bodyguard. Not that he’d known she was underage or anything. Nope, he’d simply passed on her offer to blow him to the stars because he only did blondes with big tits and not brunettes with B-cups.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you could say that again.”

“New bodyguard, new personal assistant, what else?”

“Whatever the PA suggests with the public relations company.”

“I can do that.”

“Yeah, you can and will, or that’s it, Strut. No more. This is Deep Bend’s last chance to keep my representation as well as Ragged Ruins Promotions. I walk? So do the suits.”

Jesus, this was gonna be a whirlwind of shit to deal with. Add to the fact that they still were without a tour bus until they arrived in Illinois on Thursday. Seems Deep Bend’s world was all about to change. Not necessarily in a good way—not in his opinion anyhow. If they think they’re gonna bring in some button-up shirt and tie kinda guy who’s gonna start spittin’ out orders? They are sadly mistaken.

He had no choice but to go along with the changes…for now. No promises after the Hellions and Hedonists Tour was done. Three more months and the band would be back in the studio working on their next album. If everything went right, they’d be back on tour at the beginning of the new year with a shitload of new material under their belt. Renegotiations would be first on the list after the new album was complete. Ragged Ruins Promotions would be backing off and the PA would be first on the list to hit the road.

Only temporary, only temporary Strut kept telling himself. Something he’d have to remind the band of, too. Tonight, after their performance, they’d hit the road for Dallas and he’d fill them in on the changes. None of the boys was too fond of rules or the suits thinking they ran the show. He imagined this would all go over like a lead balloon. It is what it is.

Chapter Two

Her plane had landed four hours ago and she’d taken the car service that Ragged Ruins Promotions had waiting for her at baggage.

So far so good. She currently sat in a garage as big as an airplane hangar that now housed Deep Bend’s new tour busses. Reaching down, she pulled a piece of lint from her tailored linen pants suit, which no doubt now reeked of the diesel fuel scent that filled the air. The band had yet to show up nor had the new bodyguard that the management company was sending.

To say her nerves were on high alert was an understatement. She’d worked with musicians before, but never a rock band of this magnitude. Deep Bend was at its epitome of success and their controversy had been at an all-time high lately. A leaked sex tape meant that parents wouldn’t be purchasing tickets for their teens— who just happened to be the majority of their fans. Blowing up their last tour bus in some hole in the wall truck stop’s parking lot? A red flag of epic proportions for not only the bands promotions company, but also their music label as well.