You let out a gasp as his wet lips close around your nipple. You hold his head in your hands, wanting to pull him harder against you as your nipple re...ponds to his sucking. Your sensitivity to his touch is setting your whole body on edge. When his weight shifts, and he slides up, and you suddenly feel him pressed between your legs, against your entrance. You feel the smooth, swollen tip of him press into you, parting your lips, opening you, pressing deeper and deeper into you, filling you. Soon. Deleted. He didn’t just waste an insane amount of studio time, he didn’t just cost a label a lot of money with no return. Oh, no. That wouldn’t be enough, would it? He also managed to shout at, and insult, the fucking band. The fucking producer insulted the fucking musicians! That’s one for the ages, I tell you. What were you even thinking? Musicians are so sensitive and touchy…hell, half of them are drug addicts anyway…that it’s like walking a minefield with them until you can really win them. Before I knew I’d invited them in for a coffee. Now I don’t normally do this but it was a while since I had decent male company and a plan was beginning to hatch at the back of my mind. When we got into the flat we went through to the open plan living area. ‘Make yourself at home I’ll put the kettle on.’ ‘You’ve got a great view from here, one of them said, you can see Tower Bridge from the window.’ “Yeah it’s not bad is it?” I replied. ‘How do you take your coffee?’ As it comes Tom said,. And I’m donating funds to cover materials. Anyway, for reporters, take their information and I’ll call them back. The one exception is Stan Jakes, from the Tribune; I already gave him an interview. Him you can put through.”“Got it. I wrote that down. I’ll make sure Kimmy knows.”“Thanks,” I said.I took the pink phone message slip from Keri and walked to Elyse’s office. I explained what had happened.“Wow! Bethany?”“So they didn’t tell you?”“No!” Elyse replied. “I think they might have been.