Sold Out (The Back-Up Series Book 5)
Sold Out, Book 5 of The Back-Up Series
Published by A.M. Madden
Copyright ©2019 A.M. Madden
First edition, e-book-published 2019
All Rights Reserved Worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The use of artist and song titles, locations, and products throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
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A.M. Madden
Email: am.madden@aol.com
Twitter: @ammadden1
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Website: www.ammadden.com
THE BACK-UP SERIES
Back-Up ~ Book 1
Front & Center ~ Book 2
Encore ~ Book 3
Backstage ~ Book 4
The Devil’s Lair ~ Book 4.5
Backstage Pass ~ A Back-Up Quickie
Sold Out ~ Book 5
Shock Jock, A Lair Novel
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Back-Up Series
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Another Epilogue
The Back-Up Series Playlist
Acknowledgments
More by A. M. Madden
About A. M. Madden
CHAPTER 1
“Love is many things: fickle, fragile, mysterious, and, above all, complicated. Is there anything else as powerful, though? Think about it. Love has the ability to bring either euphoria or hell, depending on the circumstances surrounding it. And even though it has the power to decimate a heart or splinter a soul, to ruin you for all of eternity, humans still desperately need to find love.
“Sure, some of us have bounced back and loved again. Some may have even found better forms of love the second, third, or eighth time around. Others may have never gotten over the pain, fearful to ever try again. And each time we dare to dip our toe into the pool of love, we usually jump in blindly. By the time we know whether the path it plans to take is one of total destruction or one of profound elation, it’s usually too late.”
His audible sigh filters through the speaker before he adds, “Call me an idiot, but in my opinion… it is absolutely worth the fucking risk.” A short pause forces you to contemplate his words, and then a deep chuckle reverberates over the air. “Well, on that note, it’s time to get home to my love. This is Dr. Vaughn Lair signing off. Remember to fuck with all your heart, and fuck like your life depends on it. Good night, America.”
Leila leans forward to touch the preset, switching over to a classic-rock station that we enjoy. “Your cousin is a smart man.”
“He can be at times.” I cut my gaze to her before focusing back on the deserted road. “But enlighten me, what is he smart about this time?” I ask, wanting my wife’s take on it.
“Love is worth the risk,” she counters, the corners of her full lips curving into a satisfied smirk.
“Yes, it most definitely is worth the risk.” I reach for her hand and lift it to kiss her knuckles.
When she can, Leila enjoys tuning in to my cousin Vaughn’s syndicated sex-therapy show, often quoting back to me the advice he doles out to his listeners. There are times she’ll even mention a new sexual position or technique that a reader shared, which works well for my libido.
After Vaughn arrived in New York, I accused her of having a crush on him. Not denying it, my wife was quick to point out it was a harmless crush, reminding me that Vaughn’s girlfriend, Haven, in turn crushed on me as well. Leila blamed the irresistible Lair genes, and I couldn’t argue her point.
“I don’t need Vaughn to know that you were the best risk I’d ever taken, my wife.”
“As were you, my husband.” The second time I glance over, her smile widens before she throws me a wink… one that instantly stirs up my sex drive.
For the record, I love my wife with all my heart. However, I also happen to lust her with all my soul. Physically, I find her to be perfection—silky chestnut locks I love burying my hands into, amber eyes that can bring me to my knees, full lips that make my mouth water wanting to nibble on them, and a body that can harden my cock even while fully clothed.
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” she touts confidently. After all we’ve been through, I can appreciate that claim. Leila and I risked a fuck-ton to be together, and I’d risk it all again to be right where we are now.
Our lives weren’t always sunshine and rainbows. And even after we survived all the crap caused by two psychos from my past, there were still many stressful situations challenging us.
Being famous rock stars, and the demands that come with touring, causes exhausting days… not to mention parenting our three kids with another on the way. But it’s the kind of exhaustion that fuels the foundation of our love, a love that is so intense it’s become a force between us. Together, we handle it all and make it a point to remember the romance that cements our relationship.
Normally, by stealing moments here and there, Leila and I are able to keep things exciting in the sex department. We are as infatuated with each other today as we were when we started out. To be honest, I’m even more so, because as sexy as she was then, there’s nothing sexier than the woman you love having your babies.
We recently found out the one she’s carrying now is a boy. Yet to be named, our fourth joins his brother Shane, and our twins, Madden and Siarra. We haven’t told anyone else yet. Through our sons’ wishfully thinking it’s another boy to play with, Siarra now thinks it is a boy as well. Adorably, she kisses Leila’s stomach every mo
rning, asking, Is my brudder coming today?
This pregnancy has been fairly easy so far. With Leila now in her eighth month, memories of the complications when she carried the twins will always be on our minds. Putting a woman like Leila on complete bed rest for the last weeks of her pregnancy made for a cranky wife. Thank God, she was able to deliver them at term through a C-section. This time, she’s being monitored closely to ensure her blood pressure doesn’t spike again.
Until this baby is in my arms, I’ll continue to stress over his arrival. I keep most of my angst to myself, not wanting to worry her more than necessary. Just like the last pregnancy, she insists she’s not tired, always trying to handle everything herself. And just like the last time, I ignore her claim by having everything handled for her.
Between our nanny, Beverly, and our parents, we aren’t hurting for babysitters. The lack of alone time is mostly because my wife loves those kids so damn much she doesn’t want to spend any time away from them. I don’t either, but the selfish prick in me needs her undivided attention every now and again.
It’s been way too long since I’ve had her all to myself. The past year has been a tornado of emotions from touring the world and adopting Shane after he lost his mother to cancer. At just five, he was left alone with no one to love him and facing years in the foster-care system. Fate had us crossing paths, and the moment we had, we knew Shane was meant to be in our family.
Since getting back from Europe, the craziness has only increased. We haven’t had a moment to breathe. Hunter and Scott no longer live to solely play the drums and guitar in the band. They’re husbands now, dads. Even Trey is head over heels in love, something I thought I’d never see in my lifetime. Despite our sappy and sweet personal lives, we’re still kick-ass rock stars who are pretty much living dual lives.
And then add Leila’s pregnancy to all that insanity, the holidays, birthdays, recording our album, and the kids… all of which is the reason I’m currently kidnapping my wife for the weekend.
“How’s my boy doing?” I ask, releasing her hand to palm her belly.
“He’s kicking my bladder again.” She settles back in her seat, placing her hands over mine.
“Do you need me to stop?”
“No. We’re almost there.” At this hour of the night, the parkway has gifted us with an open road, shortening the ride to just over an hour from the city. Not many are traveling to the Jersey Shore on a cold Friday night in February.
Leila softly sings along with the radio as the heater keeps the air around us warm and comfortable, swirling the scent of the leather with the hint of coconut from her shampoo. It reminds me of watching her this morning in the shower.
Internally, I chuckle at her calling me a creeper, while still indulging me as I stood gawking at her naked form through the clear glass door. I love her body when’s she pregnant, or when she’s not… or when she’s under mine as I burrow my cock in her warmth.
Shit, I can’t wait to get her alone and ravish every inch of her.
This trip to our beach house will serve two purposes. First, I’ll be celebrating Valentine’s Day alone with my wife. No kids barging in, no bandmates cockblocking me, no agents calling at all hours of the day… just Leila, me, and a huge house to fuck in. Yeah, sure, I plan to make sweet love to her over the course of the next two days, but first I plan to fuck her hard and fast. The kind of fucking that has her screaming my name… the kind we rarely can engage in lately for fear we’ll be waking someone up in the process.
This weekend, she’ll be able to scream all she wants. Except for the seagulls, no one will hear her.
The other reason we’re at the beach house is to shop for the baby’s nursery. Once he arrives in early April, we won’t have time to do so if we decide to pack up the brood and escape to the beach. Leila wants everything the baby will need to be there ready for him in case we do.
By the time we pull up to our gate, it’s close to midnight. The solar lights lining our winding driveway serve as a landing path toward the house. Leila adores it here, especially when our friends and family join us. She loves entertaining, and our beach house, with many guest rooms, enables her to do so properly. This house is one of the few things that reveal the spoils of our wealth.
Despite the money we’ve made, Leila and I are pretty grounded. The first thing I bought, without a second thought, was my BMW… and that was really a purchase of need after not having a car of my own for most of my adult life. Our beach house was the second impulsive purchase I made. I married a Jersey girl, and giving her a place on the beach was important to me. Our third and only other major purchase was our penthouse in the city.
I love our apartment, but this will always be our home. Years from now, when our kids are grown with families of their own, this house is where we’ll be counting our blessings.
Knowing we’d be arriving late, I had our housekeeper stock the fridge this afternoon before giving her the rest of the weekend off. We will officially have no distractions.
“Thank you for indulging me and waiting until they were all asleep before we left,” Leila says while stretching her arms over her head. “I hate not reading to them and tucking them in.”
“I haven’t even begun to indulge you, baby, but you’re welcome.”
Before cutting the engine, I shift in my seat to face her. “I have one demand.”
“Just one, huh?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Okay, I have a few, but just one that doesn’t involve sex.” Her expression turns inquisitive as she waits for me to continue. “Promise me you’ll relax and not worry about the kids. They’re fine. They have your parents with them tonight, mine tomorrow night, and then we’ll be home before they know it.” She meets my gaze and hesitates enough for me to prompt, “Lei… promise me.”
“Fine, I promise.” When I bury my hand in her hair to kiss her lips, her pout spreads into a smile against my mouth. It never fails… the moment my lips touch hers that electric charge between us crackles through my core before settling into a hot pulse low in my cock.
“Time to get you to bed,” I murmur against her lips.
“I’m not tired.”
“You will be once I’m done doing all sorts of filthy things to you.”
Leaving her sleeping soundly, I make my way to the kitchen. I’m not domesticated in any way. Since Leila came into my life, I’ve picked up a few culinary tricks. Yes, I can count on one hand the dishes I’ve mastered… scrambled eggs being one of them and toast being another. The other two or three all involve boiling a box of pasta and opening a jar of sauce, something that causes my Italian wife to cringe over.
I try my best to keep the noise at a minimum, but that’s hard to do when you’re in search of the basic tools needed to make a simple breakfast. If Leila could see me now, with hands on my boxer-clad hips while staring at the dozens of cherry cabinets that I haven’t yet tried opening in search of a frying pan, she’d no doubt push me aside with a smirk to make her own breakfast.
With a stroke of luck, I smile like a fool when my next attempt reveals just what I’m looking for.
My wife has come to appreciate my efforts, and on the rare occasions I cook for her, I score serious points. Breakfast in bed on Valentine’s Day is the mother lode.
Snatching a rose from the bouquet Leila found on the kitchen island when we arrived last night, I place it on the tray and make my way up to our bedroom. Before I reach the door, I can hear my wife talking sweetly to one of the kids.
“Yes, baby girl, Mommy and Daddy will be home tomorrow… be good for Nanna Barb and Pop Pop… I love you too.”
She doesn’t notice me leaning against the doorframe. The sexy mess of wavy hair framing cheeks still flushed from sleep stirs the familiar longing within me. The fact she’s now wearing my T-shirt over her naked torso means the eggs and toast I’m holding will definitely be cold once I’m through with her.
In light of what I made her promise last night, that call b
etter have been incoming and not the other way around.
“Good morning, Madden.” With the phone still raised toward her face, at the sound of me clearing my throat, her eyes dart to where I am standing a few feet away. A quick smile spreads before her gaze lands back on my son’s image.
“Hi, Mommy. Where’s Dad?” Madden responds in his typical, down-to-business way. Leila holds her phone out for me with a guilty expression written all over her face.
“You’re in trouble, missy.”
“Have I told you how much I seriously love you?” she asks, plucking a strawberry just as I place the tray on the bed to take her cell.
I respond to her statement with a quick kiss on her lips and a muttered, “Nice try.”
As I turn her phone around, Madden expectantly waits for my face to appear on his screen. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”
“Daddy, Shane and me want to wecord a song. Can you teach Pop Pop how to use the camewa?”
“Can you guys practice today, and I’ll record you when Mommy and I get home tomorrow?” Explaining technology to my father-in-law, when all I want to do is make sweet love to my wife, is the last thing I want to do on Valentine’s morning. The man still has a flip phone and listens to his music on a record player. Granted, his collection of vinyl albums is quite impressive.
Shane’s face appears on the small screen beside Madden’s. “Hey, Dad. I tried to tell him that. He won’t listen.”
“I wisten,” Madden argues while nudging Shane to the side.
Shane meets my gaze and rolls his eyes. On a chuckle, I say, “Thanks for being a good big brother, Shane. Madden, you need to wait for me. Pop Pop doesn’t know how to work the camera. Okay?”
“But what if I fowget the song?”
“Shane will help you remember it. Right, Shane?”
“Yep.”
I wait as Madden processes my request. “Okay. Can you bwing us a suwpwise?”
“Yes… but only if you’re good for Nanna Barb and Grandma Renata. Mommy and I will talk to you guys later.”