Naked With You

Part 3

Jagger

I step out of the shower for the second time today, feeling annoyed that taking matters in my own hands, literally, still hasn't taken the edge off after Sloan's massage. It's not like me to need a particular woman, most of the time any one with a tight body will do. But feeling Sloan's hands run across my skin as I listened to her breathing seems to have flipped some switch in my brain and all I can think about is how good it would feel to sink inside her.

My afternoon was spent running around the city fielding interviews from the local DJ's. The hangover hung around until about an hour ago and now all I want to do is get drunk again but I've got to meet with a lawyer about my brother's estate. I pull on my jeans and a dark black t-shirt. There's already a large group of girls who have found out what hotel I'm staying at leaving the normal way isn't going to work. I lift my hood and grab my sunglasses, hoping I can sneak out the side entrance I found earlier and meet my driver in the parking lot next door. It's so much fucking effort to go through.

I take the service stairs and make it out the side door completely unnoticed. I don't know why the girls haven't figure out that there are always more than two ways to get out of a building that big. I make it to the lot and slip right into the back of the dark black sedan. "Robert said to take you to Benton's," Nathan tells me as I slouch down in the seat. He's been my driver for four years now. I pay him to always be ready with a car no matter what city I'm in.

"That's the plan," I answer.

I pull my ringing phone out of my pocket, "Hey."

"Everything is all set for next month. I'm going to have you get on the bus tomorrow and make the trip back to LA. You will have a few days of driving to get your shit sorted out and then I need you to be back on your game." Robert says bluntly.

"What time?" I'm not looking forward to getting back on the tour bus without my brother, but I haven't figured out what the fuck I'm going to do to get out of the contract with the record label. We are booked as one of the big acts next month for the Grammies and I could be in a world of legal trouble if my ass is not on the stage.

"8pm. I'll have Nathan pick you up from the hotel so we can try to avoid you having any face time with your fans until after you have had some time to dry out." He knows me well.

"Fine." I hit the end button and tuck the phone back into my pocket. Nathan drives for a while before finally pulling the car into a parking lot. The place looks very posh. I glance down at what I'm wearing and second guess my choice of clothing. It's not that I give a shit what the lawyer will think of me, but I don't need any other reason to stick out and give the public an opportunity to recognize me.

Nathan knows better than to try and open my door. I know it's his job, but I'm a guy and my hand isn't fucking broken. He nods to me when we pull up to the curb near the entrance. "I'll wait just over there." He points to a spot at the far end of the lot.

"Thanks. I'll try to make it quick." I don't bother taking my hood off until I get inside. It's dark with only candle light creating a glow from each of the small tables. I see Keith, my brother's attorney in a small booth so I bypass the hostess and seat myself across from him.

"Hi Jagger, good to see you." He reaches his hand across the table and I shake it.

"Keith." I pick up the menu but even just reading it turns my stomach. Besides the headache, it's the last remaining symptom of overdoing it last night.