The Devil's Lair Read Online Free Page A

says, “Really, Hunt?”
    I shrug an apology. “I’m sorry. I forgot. Can we resume later?”
    She sighs and shakes her head. “I don’t have a doubt in my mind that I would allow you to convince me to jump off a bridge.”
    “I would never ask you to do that.” I move toward her, taking her in my arms. “But if I could tape you pleasuring yourself on that bridge…”
    “You ass,” she interrupts, shoving me away. “I married a perv.”
    “Guilty.”
    “Go get dressed.” She leaves me to head into the bathroom. The camera sits heavy in my hands and my cock sits heavy in my jeans. This night is going to be torturous.
    Fucking Trey. He’s not going to help either.
    Fifteen minutes later we are strolling through the lobby in search of the Taylors. I actually hear him before I see him.
    “Well, well, well…if it isn’t Martin Short -sese.”
    “Shut the fuck up, asshat.” A quick glance at Mandi tells me she’s mortified. “You’re upsetting my wife.”
    Trey follows my gaze. “Oh, sorry Mandi.”
    Tara shoots daggers at Trey and takes Mandi by the arm. “Let’s go have fun, Barcelona style.”
    The girls walk on ahead, giving me an opportunity to shut fuck-face up. “Do me a favor, shut it.”
    “Okay, I’ll shut it. I just need to say one thing.”
    An eye roll is all he gets from me.
    “I’m impressed, Amatto.”
    He shocks me silent. Trey and I have a very…antagonistic relationship? One of us antagonizes and the other retaliates. Rarely do either of us compliment, or shoot the breeze. It’s strange, I know. We may not act as best buds, but if he needed me, or vice versa, there would be no question we’d be there for each other.
    “That impresses you?”
    “Yeah. Don’t take this the wrong way. Mandi doesn’t seem the type. If you managed to talk her into making a sex tape, that’s fucking impressive.”
    “Can you stop saying my wife’s name and sex tape in the same sentence? It makes me want to hurt you.”
    He laughs loudly, and the girls turn to watch us. “What’s so funny?” Tara asks. They stop walking until we catch up.
    “Hunter is craving short ribs .”
    “You’re such an ass,” I mumble as his laughing drowns out my words.
    We hail a cab and arrive at a small bistro type place in the center of Las Ramblas Street . Jack, Lei, Scott, and Patti are already there when we arrive.
    “Sorry we’re late,” Mandi says, as we join them in the back of the restaurant. The girls exchange hugs, the guys insults.
    “We’re used to Trey being late. He runs on his own time zone,” Jack says before giving Mandi a hug.
    Trey shakes his head and says, “Nah uh. Wasn’t me. Tell them why we were late, Amatto.”
    “I forgot we were meeting tonight.” I scan the menu and quickly add, “Let’s order. I’m starving.”
    As they all loudly discuss their meal options, I lean into my wife’s ear and ask, “You mad at me?”
    She meets my eyes and shakes her head. “Of course not. You can’t help it that you’re a perv, or that your friends are even worse.”
    “So true.” I kiss her neck and push my luck, “So, we’ll resume when we get back to the hotel?”
    Her response is to shake her head and sigh.
     

JACK
    Leila leans over and whispers in my ear, “I’ve never been this nervous before. This is scary as hell. What if they hate us?”
    I laugh at her statement. She’s literally said this before every live show we’ve played, whether it’s back home or on the road. She’s always nervous before a show.
    We’ve had our rehearsal, we’re all dressed and ready, and we’re waiting for show time. We have an hour to go. The guys are all chilling with a beer, the girls are all bundles of nerves. I understand Leila’s nervousness since her ass will be up on stage with us. I really don’t understand why Patti, Mandi, and Tara are so nervous.
    “Babe, relax. They’ll love you.” I pull her closer to suck on her neck.
    “Easy for you to say,” she breathlessly