17: Meet the 'Rents

Marsha and George Meade were not amused at all when an overly large

touring bus pulled into their long driveway before coming to a halt in one of the overly large parking places. "You have got to be kidding me…" Marsha groaned, knowing damn well who that bus belonged too.

George simply tapped his fingers on his elbow, wondering how long it took

to get off a damn bus.

Not long actually, but they were both just now waking up. Chris only

reluctantly cracked open an eye because the driver was bugging him about

being at their destination, and two annoyed people outside. He chuckled,

nodded, and brushed his lips softly against Sam's forehead, nose and lips, slowly stirring her awake. "We're here, baby. Your folks don't seem to happy with my bus, so we're off to a GRAND start." He smacked her bare backside. "Shower first, then we'll go greet them."

"And make-up…" Sam groaned, knowing damn well if anyone here seen that lovely scarring mark from half a month ago, they'd flip the hell out. Her ass would be covered so no big deal there. Yawning, she let him pull her up off the bed, stretching and smirked when he eyed her. "We can make them wait… if you want to squeeze in a quickie, Rockstar."

"Woman of my dreams." Chris rumbled huskily, carting her into the bathroom. Planting her against the wall, he wasted no time stimulating her with his fingers before sliding home inside of her receptive body, both getting lost in each other like they did every time they had sex. "I'm fucking you in your parent's driveway, on my bus and now I'm gonna make you cum so hard, they'll hear you scream my name." Cocky, arrogant and full himself, those were some of the attributes that fit Chris perfectly and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

When informed that the pair were JUST waking up, Marsha rolled her eyes and headed inside.

By the time they stepped off the bus, it was nearing six in the evening. Samantha automatically laced her fingers with his when he held out his hand as they walked towards the mansion. She had pulled on the black floral dress Bill had picked for her and a pair of flats, her hair hanging in a heavy braid over the marked side of her neck. "You're not funny… I swear to God you 'touched it up' just to be an ass." She said without any real heat. "Shit, here we go…"

"Damn right I did." Chris murmured in return, not bothering to deny what he'd done to the spot where her shoulder met her neck. That was HIS spot, he refused not to leave some kind of mark on his woman that told everyone she was claimed. The butler ushered them inside the huge mansion. Hell, Chris was certain it was a castle from the size alone. Her parents were in the foyer, having an after dinner drink, and Chris made sure to dress his most obnoxious, just to spite Marsha. Leather pants and a rainbow sequined top with the buttons undone. His hair was half up, half down in a crazy do and he even had studs in both his ears, a watch on his wrist.

Chris also had tattoos up his arm and a few on his hands, she could practically see the steam coming from her mother. Her dad on the other hand, appeared to be holding in his reservations. "Mom, Dad," She walked over to hug them both before stepping back, hand automatically sliding back in his. "This is Chris Irvine, Chris, my parents: George and Marsha Meade." Please, please, please…

Sam was really going to try this. She had raised her daughter wrong. Marsha's eyes narrowed as she visually picked the rocker apart.

"A pleasure to meet you both, Mr. and Mrs. Meade." Chris said politely, first shaking George's hand and then taking Marsha's, seeing the steel in those eyes. She hated him. He could FEEL the hatred rolling off her in waves, the resentment and inwardly chuckled, dropping a kiss on the back of her hand. "I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to meet you both. Sammy has said a lot about you two."

"Funny, she hasn't said a thing about you to us." Marsha smiled coldly, feeling as though she had to dump a gallon of Purell on her hand after that kiss. "Samantha, we need to speak with you privately. I'm sure your boy toy can entertain himself for a while?"

"Fuck." Samantha muttered under her breath, knowing damn well Chris would take that as his opening.

"I'm all man, Mrs. Meade, I assure you. I'm not her boy toy, I'm her-" Chris almost said boyfriend and then smirked. "Lover." This old bitch was already trying to pull her bullshit and he wasn't having it.

"Marsha…" George said, warning in his tone. "We already discussed this. It is Samantha's choice, not yours." While he didn't necessarily approve of the rocker and his daughter, it wasn't for the same reasons as his wife. Chris Irvine had over a decade on his girl, he had been embroiled in two scandals, both involving women in his younger days, and George was fairly sure Sam would wind up with a broken heart.

"If you're going to be a bitch, I can leave, mother." Oh no she did not say that, out loud.

"SAMANTHA!" Marsha gaped, not believing her daughter just spoke to her that way and narrowed her eyes at the vermin, gritting her teeth. "This is all because of YOU! You influenced her and turned her against us!"

George sighed, watching his wife flounce out of the foyer angrily and in tears, his eyes turning to his daughter. "You will not speak ill of your mother again, Samantha, or call her names. That's very disrespectful and you were raised better than that, young lady."

Chris was damn proud of Samantha.

"I'm sorry, dad." Samantha said quietly, watching as he followed Marsha and groaned. "I can't believe I said that. C'mon, Rockstar, I want to go get shit out of my room." Before her parents kicked them both out. She led him up the servant's stairwell, pushing through two doors, down a hallway, and then hesitated. "Um…" Her room was pink, frilly, and totally not her. All her mom. "Um…" She reluctantly pushed open the bedroom door.

"Didn't realize you were such a girly-girl, Sammy." Chris raised a brow at all the frills and pink, too much fucking pink for his liking. Good god, just what kind of woman did Marsha think her daughter was? It was no wonder Samantha rebelled against her parents! Look at this atrocity of a room! "We're staying on the bus, just so you know." At her nod, he grinned and helped grab some of her stuff, teasing her with the undergarments she pulled out.

Rolling her eyes, Sam began grabbing shit out of her closet. Anything she wanted to keep, because she had a feeling her mom was going to boot her out. "Hey, get out!" She ordered when she spotted him flipping through a scrapbook. It was from high school, her and Paul, the golden couple and she scowled, snatching it from him and chucked it in the trash. Shoving him down onto the very flouncy, bouncy bed, she straddled his waist. "I'll tie your ass to the bedposts and leave you in this joke of a room, Rockstar."

"You and Paulie boy have been together since high school, eh?" Chris had caught that image of them – the Golden couple – and didn't like it. At all. That boy had left her rather easily and his eyes narrowed, wondering if something was afoot here. Surely, if it was him, he wouldn't let his golden girl get away that easily, Rockstar or not. "Am I really the reason you don't love him anymore or is there more to the story?"

"Wait, you? No, no," Sam tried not to laugh, shaking her head. "I fell out of love with Paul a long time ago, you were just kind of the catalyst for me finally telling him what I've known for awhile. We grew apart, a lot." She moved off of him, dropping down onto the mattress beside him. "He had a year of college under his belt when I joined him, and he had changed so much. Like, he was very focused on this future he wanted, and as I met new people and began experiencing things so different from what I grew up with… I realized I didn't want that.

And he was also really boring in bed." Maria had made sure to drive that point home when Sam had broken up with him. "I know I'm not the most exciting person, but he wouldn't even TRY anything but missionary or getting head." She glanced at Chris, raising an eyebrow. "So, my arrogant Rockstar, you were NOT the reason I stopped loving him, I stopped loving him long before I even knew who you were."

"But I WAS the catalyst, the straw that broke the camel's back and what forced you to finally tell him to take a hike. So, in a way, it is because of me." Chris beamed proudly, laughing at the incredulous look on her face and kissed her. "What would your mother say if we were to christen this room, hmm?" He couldn't get enough of her, moving his mouth to her neck and felt her melt against him, chuckling lowly. "Maybe I can even redecorate with my jizz…"

"I'm not giving you my blessing, Samantha, you know I can't." Marsha said the next day, sitting out on the veranda with her daughter, both of them sipping tea. "I still think you're making a mistake with Paul. He loves you so much and you've always been a thing, even when you were little."

"Familiarity breeds contempt, mom. Look, I care about Paul but only as my friend, that's it. I want him to be happy, but he'll have to be happy with someone beside me."

"Sam, I-" Marsha raised a brow when George and Chris walked up, Chris looking highly irritated. "What?"

"Some fucking asshole broke into my house in Florida last night." Chris didn't bother sugarcoating the news, his entire face red with barely contained rage and his eyes nothing more than blue fire. "They didn't catch the mother fucker either! I'm gonna fire every one of those goddamn guards."

"Oh my, that's terrible! Was anything stolen?" Marsha blinked, staring up at him wide eyed along with her daughter, who also looked shocked by the news.

"No, but I have to fucking leave. Immediately. Bill already booked my flight and I have to go make sure nothing was damaged. File a police report, insurance forms." Chris sounded more annoyed the more he spoke about everything headed his way. "Sammy, I can't stay, I have to go take care of this, so do you wanna come with me or stay here?"

"The party, dear. So many people are coming." Marsha intercepted, reminding Samantha why she was here in the first place and touched her hand. "Stay with your family, please."

She had promised her mom a week. Groaning, Sam stood up to walk a little way with Chris, frowning. "The party is tomorrow night, I can't leave yet, I did promise. I can come afterwards though." She said finally. "I wish… I wish you could stay. Paul and his family are going to be here," Nobody had told her but she already knew. Chris was already shaking his head no and she sighed, leaning into him. "I'll catch a flight the morning after then, okay?"

Somehow, Chris doubted that would happen, but found himself nodding to ease her mind and softly kissed her, letting it linger longer than necessary. "I'll call you when I get there. I'm sorry about this, baby." He slid a finger down her cheek, seeing the sadness in her eyes and wished he could stay. Whoever had ruined his time with Samantha and broke into his house would pay, if he ever found out who it was. "Catch you around, Sammy."

Well, that worked out, she thought as Marsha sipped her tea, hiding the malicious smile on her face and frowned as soon as her daughter rejoined her. "I hope everything's alright with his home, sweetheart." She hoped it burned to the ground.

"Me too," Sighing, Sam dropped back down in her chair and then groaned. "Mother fucker, all my shit is on the bus!"

"Language…"

"You still do have clothing here."

For fuck's sake… Samantha inwardly cursed. She was definitely bailing tomorrow night after the party.