The Wrong Type of Seduction

4 Matt’s Busy Schedule


“I so want to know her name…” Matt groaned staring blankly at the store’s shelf. She was definitely his fantasy come to life – strong, sexy, and proud of it. The way she walked head held high, hips gently swaying showing off her curves without being too obvious, and as if everyone was beneath her made his dick weep.

Running into his fantasy again, Matt nearly forgot what he wanted from the drugstore. Hell, he could look at her all day. Those green/gold hazel eyes drank him in, even as those generous heart shaped lips said “no”. She had no idea how close he’d been to claiming that kissable mouth. His groin twitched from being so near. She smelled like heaven, all heady and fresh. And soft, she was so soft and warm against him he could’ve melted at her feet, then kissed them.

For the last three days he jerked off to his imagination of her – more than he ever did in his life. And after holding her, smelling her, he was definitely adding that to his fantasies. What a woman!

While Matt never had trouble finding a willing woman to please him, he wasn’t interested in just any woman. When he did have sex, he usually liked the more mature women – who knew what they wanted and were so confident in themselves that they didn’t need validation from him, just like his fantasy. His fantasy was so confident about her self and sexuality she oozed it.

Her walk was sex. Her voice promised it. And that look she gave made him daydream fucking her. Just from looking at her! What is your name? She heated his blood like no other woman and made him want things he didn’t have time for. But for her he might just make the time.

He grabbed a big bag of chips, eye drops, and a bottle of green tea before checking out. If he wasn’t already late for his meeting, he’d have followed his fantasy to learn more about her. Dammit, he so wanted to stalk her. What is her name!

Matt made it to his meeting twenty minutes late. His manager would have a shit fit when he found out. Usually on time or early, Matt woke late that day when his phone didn’t alarm. That was because he fell asleep at his piano forgetting to plug the device in last night, so the battery went dead. Being late usually irritated him, but not today! Being late had given him a glimpse of heaven. Destiny, fate, or whatever that was, he’d take it.

Sandra, his publicist, met him at the door with her business suit and her business smile. Hands on her thick hips, she just stared at him.


“Save it, Delarosa.” The creamed coffee skinned beauty shut him up with her unusually sweet tone. Forget his manager, Mrs. Sandra was going to eat him alive. “I’m adding this to your bill so smile and be polite.” She looked him over with her usual professional appraisal. She pointed to his shirt. He looked down and groaned, dropping his bag to tuck in his shirt. “No excuses. No apologies. Make it worth the wait.”

He nodded finishing tucking his shirt in. “And whisper sweet nothings?”

“Like your ass is made out of candy.”

He chuckled, loving that southern accent. It had a lilt to it that helped him find the note he needed when he was composing one of his songs last year.

“And Matt-“

“I won’t make this a habit.” He assured her picking his bag back up.

“As expected.” She turned and opened the door to the boardroom. It was set up like a lounge even with the long wood conference table in the middle. Large cushioned chairs, drinks, and snacks lined the walls while soft music played in the background. Most of the business people wore suits while the singers, musicians, and entertainers wore whatever they felt like it.

Matt walked in smiling and greeting the pop artists, executives, and producers who would be working on his next project. He complimented and showed off the charm that usually got him what he wanted. The exception was a woman he still hadn’t learned her name. He hoped like hell that he ran into her again. Sandra elbowed him when he began to drift off to the thought of that ass. Bless the woman, Sandra was worth every penny he paid for her time.

“Look alive, Matt.” She whispered in his ear and he looked to see why. Approaching was a woman he hoped not to have to make nice with. “Use your magic.” Sandra added walking off to work her own magic.

Sauntering up like she was some kind of supermodel in her embroidered jean skirt and flared jean jacket, the woman looked like a cookie cutter blonde pop star. “Matthew, it’s so nice to see you again.” Alyssa Swan, a popular name in the pop culture industry, was one of the most successful and influential female pop singers to date. Her words could sink careers and uplift talent, and had. Matt didn’t particularly like the woman or her voice quality but she was a necessary evil. Alyssa’s newest talent under her umbrella was someone Matt wanted on his newest album. And if he could convince the young singer to leave Alyssa, he’d definitely get her on his new label.

“Alyssa.” He smiled allowing it to reach his eyes. “I heard your recent concert was a mega hit. Nothing less for you.”

“Why thank you!” she beamed, blue eyes shining. “Though I’m surprised you asked Marcy to be on your new album and not me. I’m a little upset about that.” She pouted.

“With someone of your stature and popularity, I have a long way to go before asking you.”

She fluttered her lashes at him flirtatiously. “I’m honored you think so. Maybe on your next album we’ll be able to work together.”

Hell no. “If that’s an offer, I look forward to it! Maybe one day I could be so lucky to be on one of your albums.”

“Now that’s an idea. Should we discuss it over lunch…or dinner?” She grinned hooking her arm in his. He groaned inwardly. No way in hell was he going to dinner or anything with her. She’d just make him one of her songs.

“When are you free?” He asked anyway, thinking of away to get out of it without blatantly turning her down.

“Tomorrow evening. Six.”

“Crap,” Woohoo! “I’ll be in Tulsa for a performance. And then flying to Seattle because I promised my brother I’d come visit. You’re free to join me if you like football.”

“Sadly, I don’t have that kind of time to spare. A shame. Rain check?”

“I count on it.” Just like he counted on lying or whatever it took to get out of it.

The young pop star finally maneuvered him to her private corner of the room where her new talent, Marcy Carson sat talking to a music producer in bejeweled jeans and a cotton T that had an image of Michael Jackson’s famous tiptoe dance pose. The man was shorter and considerably older than Matt with dark brown skin and dark shrewd eyes.

Matt nodded his head at the producer he hoped to work with soon. The man nodded his head in response before he greeted Alyssa cordially. Then he moved on, but not before making distinct eye contact with Matt. The signal told Matt the guy wanted to talk to him and to come find him later. Was this his chance?

“Hey Marcy! Look who I brought.” Alyssa sang bringing Matt’s attention back to the two women.

The young woman, barely eighteen grinned up with a shy smile. “Hi, Mr. Delarosa. It is nice to finally meet you.” She stood and offered her hand cautiously.

“Oh, Marcy,” Alyssa squeezed Matt’s arm, clutching it possessively. “Call him Matt.”

“Nice to meet you, Marcy.” He shook her hand with his free hand. “Are you ready to work together?”

“Yes. Of course.” She nodded jerking her hand away quickly as if fearful of his touch, or Alyssa’s wrath. Those dark blue eyes looked at Alyssa as if wanting instruction.

“Oh, Marcy, don’t be shy.” Alyssa finally let got of Matt and clutched Marcy’s small frame in a hug. Then she ruffled the girl’s poker straight black hair, making it messy — probably on purpose. “Matt’s just talking business.”

“It’s fine, Alyssa, it’s natural to be nervous on the first meeting. Marcy, I’m sure Alyssa has told you I am new to the pop industry like you, so I know how difficult it can be to adjust. But I still look forward to working with Alyssa and you. I should go finish mingling before Sandra grabs me and hauls me away. Alyssa,” he smiled at her turning up the charm. “I’ll see you later.”

“Definitely.” She batted those lashes again flirting with him. Too bad under that nearly angelic face lay a deviousness.

Matt walked away and found the music producer with the bejeweled jeans from earlier sitting at the board room table alone sipping a glass of something, probably alcoholic. Matt took a seat beside him.

“What’s up my man?” The guy asked, “You serious about this pop thing? You make real music, with real instruments. Not a lot of room for those these days in this industry’s studios.” The guy eyed Matt a second before going back to his drink.

“I have a studio that can handle it.” Matt leaned back in his chair getting comfortable.



“Why the change?”

Matt chuckled. “I love music. All kinds.”

“Some say pop ain’t real music.”

“Some also said rap wouldn’t survive this long.”

The guy laughed and held out his hand. “Call me Rage.”

DJ Cold Rage, one of the best music producers in main stream. A veteran with the knowledge and skill that most musicians would kill to work with. “I love your music,” Matt said.

The guy laughed. “I’m probably as big a fan of you as you are of me.” He put his hand on the table and slid something over to Matt. It was a flat piece of paper Matt didn’t notice laying on the surface before. No wonder he didn’t see it, the thing was tiny — smaller than a business card. “Do yourself a favor, call me. I want to set up a meeting. Some people I want you to meet. If you’re going to be in this industry and survive, you’ll need…a little something. I promise to make it worth your while if you can spare the time.”

Matt nodded taking the guy’s number. “Call me Matt.” He put the number in his phone and then sent the guy a text with his own info.

“Matt, I’ll send you my free schedule. Let’s do this.” The guy stood up and walked away with a natural swagger, leaving his drink behind.

Matt finished the meeting with a music executive who eagerly shook his hand and promised that the project would be a success. Sandra by his side again, finally announced his departure, explaining he had other engagements. They left the large room and got onto the elevator. As soon as the doors to the elevator dinged shut and they were alone, Sandra whirled on him. “What did Rage say to you?”

“He gave me his number and wants to meet. Said he wanted me to meet some people.”

Sandra’s normally all business face lit with a happiness that shocked Matt. “Oh, wow! You are as good as in. I mean, I didn’t really doubt it before. But…” She nodded her head in approval. “If he calls, cancel whatever you have planned and go.” She patted him on his arm. “If everything works out, you won’t have to keep pretending to like Alyssa.”

Matt laughed. “I thought I was convincing.”

“Oh, baby, you were. But you already confessed to me how much she makes your skin crawl, so you weren’t fooling me. Honestly, despite what other people say, I know you’d make it just fine in this industry without Walthour.”

“Why thank you,” Matt chuckled knowing most people in the music world wanted to know him and eagerly helped him because of his connection to his benefactor, Gabriel Walthour. Most who didn’t know him thought he would have never been as popular as he was without the billionaire’s influence. But those who knew him, knew he worked his ass off and enjoyed music more than anything. Walthour managed his investments and offered business advice. It was up to Matt to decide what he accepted from the man, and he never turned down the man’s business advice.

Matt was more than grateful to the man. He had learned at the age of fourteen not to swat away a hand that was willing to help after his father disowned his family. If not for his best friend Cody and her father Mr. Walthour, Matt and his brothers could have been out on the streets or worse. So no way in hell was he going to turn down anything the man offered. Especially since it did nothing but help them succeed and live in peace.

Maybe he should cheat and use his connection to Walthour to find his fantasy… Nah, he’d see her again. He just knew it.


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