European Tour (Rocking the Pop Star Book 1) by L. V. Lewis

heartbeat if anyone steps incorrectly toward his client. Yet Sky is not just his client. In the seven years he’s been in her employ, they have become friends. In many ways he’s like the uncle she never had. He may be old enough to have fathered her, but I don’t think even he is brave enough to bed the barracuda.
    I shake off that visual and turn to Sky. “So, where to first, My Lady?” I ask in my best English accent.
    “We’re in modern-day London,” she reminds me. “What century is that accent from?”
    “Hell, I don’t know. I probably heard it on Game of Thrones.”
    She laughs. “Get it straight, Kent. These Brits won’t stand for you mucking up their vernacular.”
    “Bloody hell,” I say and pounce on her, tickling. “Can’t a man talk however he bloody well pleases in this day and age?”
    She’s screaming with laughter. “Stop it, Brody… Oh, God, please stop!”
    “You’d better stop, dude,” Malik says as calmly as you please. “If you make Sky fuck up her vocal cords again, Mrs. Samuelson is going to geld you.”
    I stop immediately.
    Damn, I’d forgotten about her vocal cord issues just that quickly.
    Malik laughs, cackling like a fucking hyena almost all the way to the hotel. Like Malik, I haven’t gotten it twisted. I know exactly who’s in charge.

    Sky and I have connecting hotel suites, and this solves one very significant potential problem. At least here in London, neither her entourage nor the paparazzi will get any shots of me visiting her room after hours.
    We are lounging in my soaker tub after a grueling six hours of sightseeing, trying to soak the soreness out of muscles that hikes on cobbled streets, up countless sets of stairs, and through craggy terrain surrounding Stonehenge have caused.
    Her head is against one end of the tub, and mine is at the other. I relax with my eyes closed in the companionable silence.
    “I have a suggestion,” Sky murmurs.
    “Hmm. Such as?”
    “Let’s stretch out some of the sightseeing at our next location, mm-kay?”
    “I’ll make a note of that,” I say and close my eyes again.
    “And let’s do room service tonight, ’kay?”
    This time, I don’t open my eyes. “Okay.”
    Sky and I are acting like Kim and me in the early days. It’s scary to think that I’m going through a similar phase with someone else, but it’s exhilarating, too.
    We stuff our faces with a selection of items from the hotel menu. I’m somewhat recovered from the busy day, but Sky is nodding off like a junkie.
    “Ready to turn in?” I ask.
    She jumps at the sound of my voice and shakes off her impending slumber. “Nope. We’re gonna finish watching this movie.”
    I smile at her immediate insistence that she’s doing anything other than catnapping on my shoulder. “Sky, the movie has been watching you for half an hour.”
    “Okay, let’s go to bed then,” she agrees, standing and stretching like a feline.
    I pick up the remote off the coffee table and turn off the television.
    As I expected, she walks toward the bedroom in my suite, not her own.
    “You’ve got a full day of rehearsal tomorrow,” I warn.
    “So?” She stifles a yawn.
    “You sure you want to sleep in there and not over there?” I point from my bedroom toward her empty suite for emphasis.
    “Yeah, I’m good.” She continues walking, stripping out of her clothes as she goes, and I just shake my head and follow her.
    A good night kiss sparks the embers, and a hot and heavy make-out session kindles a roaring flame. I have eaten her out to one orgasm, and now she’s returning the favor. It’s only taken a couple of days with my instruction for her to become adept at giving a spectacular blowjob.
    Now she was giving head like a champ, and she was excellent at relaxing her throat muscles so she wouldn’t repeatedly gag through the process like some chicks do. It had to be connected to her singing, or breathing, or maybe she was just a fucking natural. I don’t know, but