The Wrong Type of Seduction

17 Val Faces the Music


17: Val Faces the Music

Getting out of the cab, Val closed the door and stepped up on the curb listening to the phone as Tiffany, her business partner, updated her on what she had missed.

“Mr. Weber has called saying how much he appreciates your work.” 

“Ah, yes, the restaurant owner with the beautiful wine selection and the lecherous eyes,” Val said. 

“That’s the one. He’s very happy with the information you gave him and said he found the help he needs. You requested he hire an majority male staff?” Tiffany asked.

“His wife left him because of his affairs. He almost got sued last year for sexual harassment of one of his female employees. He has serious issues with women and I wouldn’t want any woman working there until he recognizes his problems and deals with it. I sent a few women there personally to apply for his restaurant. They are all lesbians ready to set his highness straight. It should be interesting.”

Tiffany laughed. “You must really want to see this restaurant survive.”

“I sent you the pictures. But it doesn’t do the ambiance of the place justice. It truly is a masterpiece. The imperfection lies in the owner. Oh, before I forget, did you find out about Ye Jun?”

“Yes. Lim Ye Jun’s sculpture was stolen six years ago. They stopped looking for it about six months ago. The finder’s fee is two thousand, about a third of what its worth. You want me to report it?”

“No, keep away from anything else involving it. It has black market written all over it and if I’m right, the moment it’s whereabouts become known some people will end up missing. I’ll call Roger and have him and Norman handle it. If the piece is still in the city, they can be quiet and quick. I have a client in Egypt that will pay double the value for it.”

“Oh, the art enthusiast with the militarized private gallery! I’m jealous that you got to see it.”

Only because the man was in love with Val. When the line for entrance to the music hall came into view, Val said, “I have to go.”

“Oh, before I forget, I’ve forwarded an encrypted message from Mr. Christophe to your secure network.”

Val thanked the woman and hung up.

Walking into the music hall, she showed her badge pass that Matt sent her. She glanced around the beautiful building while waiting for her escort as the ticket taker instructed. The entrance and atrium were crowded with people trying to get to their seat so she wasn’t surprised to feel eyes on her.

Dressed in her strappy blue heels, slightly snug ocean blue dress that came just above the knees and off the shoulders showing off her upper back and a tasteful amount of cleavage, Val knew she would get some attention. So when she did a quick scan to make sure the attention wasn’t harmful, she caught sight of a very handsome man wearing a blue pinstripe suit. With neatly groomed curls, gold eyes, and golden skin, Tyler Delarosa, Matt’s older brother and heir to the Walthour Conglomerate, stared at her even as he spoke with a small group of people — wealthy elite who wanted the future billionaire’s time. Val recognized most of them.

While Tyler didn’t have his brother’s dimples, the shape of their eyes and those long lashes were the same. The color of their skin and those alluring lips almost matched. Matt kept his hair shorter, neater, and he stood inches taller.

Tyler was clearly the sexier visually, yet, Val felt none of the chemistry with this brother like she felt with Matt when they first met. Matt had an appeal that was far more masculine, electric, magnetic, and…something else. Something Val couldn’t put her finger on. It wasn’t his boyish charm, because Val was starting to see past it to his more cunning nature. No there was something far more edgier to Matt.  

Was Matt’s brother staring at her because of the dress? Or was it because he knew about her? She hoped Matt didn’t tell him about her. If he tried to introduce her to his family, all bets were off. There was no way in hell she was getting any deeper into this. Val would throw it all in full reverse and make Matt hate her before she disappeared from everything.

When her escort came to get her, Val pointedly ignored the brother’s attention and walked with the usher who directed her to her seat on the front row. She was told that she would be allowed backstage after the concert, and that all backstage guests had to be seated before the performance. Only backstage staff were allowed to stay during the concert. Which meant if she were a volunteer helping with the concert or the artists’ companies, she could be with him before he went on stage.

Her heart pounded at getting to see him. It have been days… She was ridiculous for keeping count, but the sex…

After fifteen minutes, the lights dimmed in the packed eager auditorium. The MC, an older woman with a beautiful smile came out and began to make easy jokes before getting the show started.

The first act was a saxophonist that zeroed in on specific audience members and played sexy solos without the accompaniment of a band for the first two songs. His last three songs came full with band. The second act was one of Val’s favorite jazz musicians. She was a jazz violinist whose melodies were upbeat and almost crossed into rock at times, some times hip-hop. Her range was so wide and varied, she could easily have match Matt’s. The last was a jazz quartet that used mostly acoustics.

Intermission came far sooner than she realized. Even though there had been three musicians who played more than four songs a piece, time seemed to fly.

The second half came alive when the MC was replaced with none other than Matt himself. The auditorium applauded him and cheered. Matt just stood there and smiled with a violin in one hand and a bow in the other, waiting.

When the crowd finally began to settle, his sure velvety voice spoke, “Good Evening.”

“Good Evening,” Val found her self saying with the rest of the crowd.

“Thank you for coming tonight. For you who are first time jazz aficionados, I hope you found something you liked. For those who are veterans to the world of jazz, I hope you are enjoying yourselves.” His eyes went straight to her when he said the last part.

Val felt her lips twist in amusement.

“However, you feel right now, just know…” He licked his lips. “The night has just begun.” The lights darkened.

Val shifted in her seat and took a deep breath at the promise in his voice. The woman beside her began fanning herself, probably thinking he was directing his words to her. Which might be possible. She was beautiful, and… Why was she thinking unnecessary thoughts? Who Matt slept with besides her was none of her business.

The lights came back on and Matt stood with three other people, one who held a guitar and the other sat behind a drum set that had been on the stage all night.

Matt started the piece with a high energy violin solo that boarded on classical and made every hair on her body stand at attention. Chills filled her with its power. Then he slowly changed tempo softened it as the electric guitar merged with him and the drums followed. The song mellowed, but only slightly as it spiked in places that had her on the edge of her seat until the very end.

When he finished, Val found herself panting. She had always loved his music but never got a chance to experience it live. And with her panties getting slightly damp, she was starting to second guess her decision.

The second song was just as powerful and moving, and just…amazing. It was more samba, Latin, and less classic jazz. Then he walked off stage and a group of drummers came on filling the hall with sounds so rhythmic it seemed African in nature. Bongos and other drums that Val didn’t know the name of were pounded with the flats of their hand as they wore a collage of different colors. Val was ready to stand and cheer at the end of the performance, except it didn’t end. Each song flowed into the next. Matt came back on stage empty handed at the same time a curtain in the far back opened and a piano was moving out to greet him thanks to the automated platform.

The drums stopped abruptly with all the drummers positioned around the stage like soldiers.

An Oriental flute could be heard before a woman with long black hair walked out playing solo. Matt prepared himself, sitting down at the piano. In an article she read about him, he admitted he could play almost every string instrument, but his favorite was the piano. Over and over, he proved it when he played.

The whole auditorium seemed to hold its breath as he sat down at the grand. Then as if he had been playing that thing all night, all his life, he began. And blew them all in.

Val felt her dead heart pump for him just by watching him play. He played so intently that everything else didn’t seem to exist for him. He kept in tempo with the flutist and the occasional drums, yet they almost didn’t exist as his piano subtly dominated and yet harmonized beautifully.

His music traveled the world of jazz as he went from easy sounds to heavy smokey environments. Instrumentals came and went on stage, but Matt remained though it all. Heart slamming in her chest, Val found herself holding onto her seat as he played the last note for the last song.

And the silence echoed.

Then the crowd stood and applauded, cheered, and requested more.

Val didn’t move. Her panties were too wet with the intensity of the performance and him. Feeling hot and bothered, she didn’t know how he nearly made her come with his music alone. How the hell had this nineteen-year-old made her want to throw herself at him? Was that what music groupies felt the moment before throwing their panties at rock stars and rappers? Was that the feeling teen girls felt before they snuck into their pop idol crushs’ dressing room? If so, then Val understood the power of stardom. Yet, she’d never thought herself susceptible to such a force. Not until Matt. He was intoxicating. And she wanted to fuck him in front of everyone. Everyone. She never voluntarily wanted to do that. It was crazy. And yet, the truth made her vaginal walls spasm.


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