"I'd like that."

Avery walked Lola back into the apartment just as Grey stepped inside. From the expression on his face, either his meeting hadn't gone well ... or something else was very wrong.

Chapter Eleven.

Grey should have known Simon wouldn't go away quietly. Instead he'd been sidetracked by how good things had been. With the paparazzi focused on the breakup of a Hollywood super couple, they'd left Tangled Royal, Grey Kingston, and his old flame alone. Whoever had broken into Avery's apartment building and vandalized her front door had disappeared. He and Avery were getting to know each other again, and things were almost perfect. Which meant he should have known to watch his back.

Grey's meeting with Chloe Mandrake hadn't gone as expected. Not in any imaginable way. And though he knew he should have cooled off before heading home, he also knew he could only take out his anger in the gym, on a punching bag. He hadn't expected to find Lola here with Avery, but considering this had to do with his ex-manager, Lola needed the information to make her own decisions on what to do with the man.

"What's wrong?" Avery asked the second she saw him. Yeah, she read him well, and he was grateful for it.

"I can go," Lola offered.

Grey shook his head. "You need to hear this."

"What is it?" Lola asked.

Avery watched him with a concerned expression.

He blew out a sharp breath. "I just met with Chloe Mandrake. She'd already contacted me about collaborating on a song for her next alb.u.m based on the work I did with Alden Mills."

"That's really cool!" Lola said, her eyes lighting up. "You two would rock it."

"Not jealous?" Grey asked, grateful for the moment to put aside his fury. He playfully nudged her with his elbow, and she grinned.

"No. I know I'm your true band sister."

Avery laughed. "None of this explains what has you so upset."

"Chloe said she didn't know if she could go forward with the collaboration. She said the reason she wanted to do it in the first place was because I co-wrote with Alden Mills." He shoved his hands into his slacks pockets. "But Simon told her that wasn't the truth. That Mills did the writing and took me along just to take advantage of my popularity and audience." Grey's stomach was still twisted into angry knots over the accusation.

"That b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Lola said, digging through her bag and pulling out her phone.

"What are you doing?" Grey asked.

"Calling him and giving him a piece of my mind!"

"Slow down!" Grey reached for the phone and placed it on the table.

Lola huffed at him. "You expect me to do nothing?"

"I expect you to let me handle it."

"Did Chloe believe him?" Avery asked.

He shrugged. "She wants to believe me, but she's on a tight deadline, and working with me if I can't hack it is a risk."

Avery came up beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist in an obvious attempt to calm him. He tucked her into him, grateful for her support and for Lola's, even if she was, as usual, impulsive in her defense.

"What are you going to do?" Lola asked.

"Mills' widow is the only one who was there during our sessions. Other than Simon," he muttered. "She's well aware of what Alden was and wasn't capable of when we worked together. I called the last number I had for Mills, and it's been disconnected."

Lola swore.

He glanced at Avery. "I called your brother on the way home and hired his firm to find Mills' widow."

"I hope he didn't give you a ha.s.sle first."

"No. He takes work and security seriously," Grey a.s.sured her. And he had. For all the s.h.i.t Tyler gave him over Avery, he was d.a.m.ned good at his job and didn't joke around.

"And I left a message for my lawyer. I want to find out what const.i.tutes slander, because I'm not letting Simon get away with this bulls.h.i.t."

Avery squeezed him tighter, and he drew strength from knowing she had his back and wasn't running.

Lola groaned. "Well, whatever you need, I'm here. And you can bet I'm firing his a.s.s too."

Grey held up one hand. "Not yet. I don't want to p.i.s.s him off even more. I let him go and he retaliated. Let me see what my options are first. Just don't sign anything new with him."

Lola narrowed her gaze, her pout strong, but she nodded in agreement. "Don't worry. I won't." She s.n.a.t.c.hed her phone. "Call me if you need me." She strode out the door, shutting it behind her.

Once they were alone, Avery pulled out of his arms and met his gaze. "I can't believe Simon would undermine you like that. After all those years together?"

"He was always a slimy b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but he was our slimy b.a.s.t.a.r.d." He paused, then said, "Do I want to know what you and Lola were doing here together?" he asked.

"She apologized in person for her behavior when we met. She was really being nice. She's donating signed goodies for the hospital prom. Don't worry about me and Lola. You have enough stress right now. And speaking of stress ... why don't you come into the bedroom and let me work on your tension," she said, her voice getting husky.

Before he could process her tone or intent, she stepped in front of him and reached for the b.u.t.ton on his pants. He'd dressed up for this meeting, wanting to make a good impression on Chloe, punk rocker or not, and the pants slid easily to the floor.

Avery pulled his boxer briefs down, her nails raking down his thighs as she dropped to her knees in front of him. "Holy h.e.l.l," he muttered.

She wrapped her fingers around his thick c.o.c.k, and her tongue darted out as she took a small, tentative lick. The combination of her warm breath, soft tongue, and the fact that this was his Avery had heat and arousal spiraling through him.

He locked his knees to remain upright and glanced into her face. A s.e.xy smile teased her lips before she opened her mouth and took him inside.

Avery was no expert, but she wanted to give back to Grey. He'd done nothing but be good to her, try to convince her how good they could be together, and she was finally starting to believe. To relax enough to stop thinking about herself and want to take care of him for a change.

She braced one hand on his thigh, wrapped the other around his shaft, and pulled him in deep. She swirled her tongue over him while pumping her hand back and forth, judging her success by the low rumbles coming from his chest.

To her surprise, the sounds of his pleasure aroused her on a whole different level than she'd ever experienced before. It was a heady experience, being in charge, and her body responded in kind. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s hurt in the best possible way, and her s.e.x swelled, feeling empty and needy.

He began to thrust gently, keeping a hand on top of her head, trying not to hurt her while he moved in time to the workings of her tongue, her lips, and even, lightly, her teeth.

She squeezed her thighs together, enjoying the rush of arousal she got while taking him higher.

Suddenly he pulled on her hair. "Gonna come, sugar."

She knew he was giving her a warning, telling her to let him go, but she wanted this. Wanted his release and surrender. All his alert did was make her concentrate more, on the glide of her hand over his c.o.c.k and the working of her mouth, drawing him in and taking him as deep as she could go.

He came with a roar of satisfaction, and she swallowed every drop, pulling out only after he'd spent himself completely.

He yanked her to her feet and kissed her forehead before unexpectedly lifting her into his arms. "That was awesome," he told her, dropping her on the bed and yanking her shorts off, taking her panties with them.

"Grey!"

His eyes darkened as he gazed down at her swollen s.e.x. "Your turn," he said gruffly. He dipped his head and dragged his tongue along her damp slit.

She moaned at the contact, her skin sensitive and aroused already. He teased her with wicked nips of his teeth, soothed with sweet laps of his tongue, and finally slid one long finger inside her. She moaned and bent her knees, trying to contract around him and pull him deeper.

He raised his head and blew over her damp p.u.s.s.y.

The warmth of his breath whipped her into even more of a frenzy of need, and she curled her fingers into the bedding.

"I've got you," he said, his words a drugging promise.

"Please, please." She needed to come and wasn't ashamed to beg for it.

He curled his finger inside her, pressing against the spot only he'd ever found.

She moaned as her body began to shake and contract, her o.r.g.a.s.m exploding without warning, taking her up and over. Sparkles flickered behind her eyes; warmth and sensation took her body over. By the time she came back to earth, Grey was propped on an elbow, his gorgeous face staring into hers.

"You're f.u.c.king gorgeous when you climax. But you're even more beautiful when you make me come."

A hot flush stained her cheeks, and she couldn't find the words to respond.

"I'm definitely more relaxed now," he said, speaking when she didn't.

"Good." She closed her eyes and realized her headache was gone. Maybe she'd found a cure, she thought, unable to hold back a laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"I think o.r.g.a.s.ms are the cure for migraines," she said, still giggling.

He grinned. "Happy to oblige any time."

She ran a hand through his mussed hair. "So what are you going to do about the problem with Simon?" she asked, hesitant to bring up the situation but knowing there was no way he'd put it out of his head completely.

He blew out a long breath. "Refrain from killing him and wait to hear from your brother. I need to prove I wrote those lyrics, and only Mills' widow can verify my claim."

As if on cue, his cell rang, a muted sound from his pants in the other room. He shot her a regretful look and rose from the bed. She couldn't help but stare at his gorgeous, tight a.s.s as he headed into the den for his phone.

Too soon he disappeared from sight. He returned, talking as he walked in and stood beside the bed.

This time her gaze fell to his strong thighs and the semi-hard erection. He glared at her as he spoke, a silent warning to stop distracting him. She grinned and rose from the bed, looking for her shorts.

"So that's it? She's out of the country with no forwarding information?" he asked, his frustration clear.

She pulled on her panties and shorts, snapping them.

"Yes. I know you're still looking. Thanks and keep me posted." Grey hit end and tossed his phone onto the bed.

"Dead end?" she asked.

"For now. Tyler said they're still trying to find her. Neighbors and friends said she went into seclusion after her husband's death."

"But she has to surface some time. Mail, bills, things still need attending to," Avery said. "Have faith in Tyler and whoever he put on her trail."

"I will." He'd retrieved a pair of sweats from a drawer and pulled them on, covering up Avery's favorite view before turning toward her. "I'm sorry for why you're here," he said. "But I'm d.a.m.ned glad you are."

"Me too," she murmured, and was surprised to realize she meant it, her fears and objections fading with each pa.s.sing day.

A few days later, Tyler called Grey and asked to see him at the office regarding his investigation into Mills' widow. Grey was pumped that Tyler had information already.

Avery would have loved to go along, but she'd had a meeting scheduled with Dr. McCann at the hospital, and afterwards she'd promised Ella, who was returning from her trip, that she would pick her up from the airport, so Grey headed over alone.

No sooner had he walked into the man's office than he was ambushed. Both Tyler and Scott Dare awaited him, and though he wanted to believe it was because they were co-owners of Double Down Security, he braced himself for them to gang up on him about leaving Avery. Which wouldn't be f.u.c.king happening.

"Gentlemen," he said tightly but as politely as he could manage, his hands in tight fists, his muscles strained.

"Have you seen the morning paper?" Tyler asked without preamble.

"Online or print," Scott added. "Either one will do."

Neither man seemed pleased, and Grey grew even more agitated. "No."

Tyler walked around to the big screen on his desk and turned it to face him. "Someone's playing dirty."

Grey skimmed a variety of headlines that had been pulled up on all the gossip sites and online newspapers with Grey's name jumping out from them.

Tyler zeroed in on one article and pulled it up for reading. Grey stalked over. Bracing his arms on the desk, he leaned down and skimmed long enough to get the gist. Allegations and speculation that Grey Kingston hadn't written or even co-written songs on his famous collaboration with Alden Mills. And if he hadn't written those, what had he really contributed to Tangled Royal?

Grey saw red. If Simon were in front of him, he'd take a swing first, no questions asked.

"Breathe out," Scott told him.

Grey listened, pulling in much-needed air. "Is that why you called me over? To show me my manager's effectively killing any kind of writing career before it starts?"

"No, we're calling you to tell you we found the widow," Scott said.