DIRTY ROCKER: A Rock Star Romance Page 3

  This morning, I was deep in thought. Pierce’s announcement that he would pursue his manwhore activities when we were on tour hadn’t surprised me. It was what he always did. I’d seen it so many times, I’d lost count. What had surprised me, though, was the burning sensation in my stomach when he’d said the words. It confused the hell out of me. I couldn’t be jealous, it wasn’t possible, there’d never been anything remotely romantic between us. We were friends… nothing more, nothing less.

  I set the pitcher of OJ on the breakfast bar, remembering his flippant invitations in the past to give him a blow job after I’d put on his stage makeup. It had become a joke. One time, I’d been tempted to say ‘yes’, just to mess with him and get a reaction before I cracked up with laughter. I pressed my lips together…I’d never given a blow job in my life and doubted I ever would.

  With a sigh, I scrubbed my fingers over my face. Rooming with Pierce had changed the dynamics between us somewhat. That, and the hard time he’d had going through detox. I knew he lusted after me, I could see it in his eyes, but my one and only experience of sex had been a complete disaster. There was something wrong with me, and I’d made up my mind to never go down that route again.

  Today, I was making what Pierce called a ‘Full English fry up’ at his request… eggs, bacon, wieners and mushrooms. Spatula in my hand, I did a shimmy across the kitchen floor and almost jumped out of my skin when I caught the bad boy leaning against the doorjamb in my periphery. His long hair, wet from the shower, was tied back from his stubbled face, and his inky dark blue eyes twinkled. He gave me a cocky grin. “Nice moves, Yankee Girl,” he laughed. “But thanks for spoiling me.”

  Heat spread up my neck to my cheeks. “Just doing my job, Limey. You need to eat well to recover.”

  He poured himself a glass of juice with a steady hand. “I feel better already.”

  “Baby steps, buddy.” I filled a plate with food and handed it to him. “You’re not outta the woods yet.”

  He shook his head. “Seriously, I feel great.”

  I looked him up and down. Physically, he was doing well, but I wasn’t sure about his mental state. I decided to reserve judgement and said nothing. After placing a couple pieces of crispy bacon and an egg fried sunny-side-up on my own plate, I pulled out the stool next to him and sat down.

  A cheerful, “Good morning,” rang out as Joe ambled into the kitchen and helped himself from the frying pan. Pierce then got into a conversation with him about weightlifting…something they were both into as part of their gym workouts.

  My thoughts chasing each other in a continuous cycle, I ate my breakfast and stared out the picture window at the clear blue sky. Today would be another hot one. Now that Pierce was on the road to recovery, I was worried about him getting bored and falling off the wagon. If only he’d agree to hang out with Axel and Phoenix. I knew they were eager to see him. Rhys had gone to visit with his family in Wales and Zach with his in Northern Ireland, otherwise they’d have been clamoring for a visit as well. I wrinkled my brow and put down my fork. I’d suddenly lost my appetite.

  An unexpected buzz sounded from the intercom.

  “I’ll get that.” Pierce jumped from his stool, picked up the handset and barked instructions. “Can you unbox the delivery for me and bring it through?”

  He hung up and whirled around, capturing me with his burning gaze. “Got a surprise for you, Yankee Girl.,” he smirked.

  “For me?” I stared at him.

  He reached for my hand for the first time ever. It was like an electric shock had passed through me, and I snatched my hand back. He took it again, his cupid lips bowing into a warm smile. “Come with me.”

  He practically pulled me toward the entrance hall. “Get a load of these,” he beamed, flinging the front door open.

  I stood next to him and my gaze snapped to where he was pointing. The security guard was coming toward us, wheeling two Kona mountain bikes…one with a larger frame than the other. My jaw dropped. Literally. Those bikes cost serious money. Like six thousand each. “Who are they for?” I stuttered out the question.

  “Us, of course.” Pierce grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Thought it about time I took up a sport other than gym workouts. And as you’ve been given the job of babysitting me, it had to be something we could do together.”

  “Wow. Awesome. Thank you.” I was at a loss for words.

  I ran to the smaller framed bike and adjusted the seat to my height. Then I swung my leg over and squeezed the handles in my palms.

  Perfect.

  Pierce was saying something to Joe out of my earshot, then he turned to me. “Wanna go for a ride?”

  “Where to?”

  “We can head up the canyon. Joe will stand by with his cellphone in the vicinity in case we are mobbed.”

  “What about helmets?”

  “Got them covered.” Pierce clicked his fingers, and the guard came forward with two Casco Bells. “Let’s set off before the heat builds up and it gets too crowded. We can spend the rest of the day chilling by the pool.”

  I grinned like an idiot. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Chapter 7

  Pierce

  I’d ridden a bike as a kid, but only on the rain-soaked streets of London. Riding on a dirt track was way more fun. Hayley had given me some tips, like keeping my body loose so my Kona could move beneath me, reminding me to go easy on the brakes to avoid the bike sliding—which would have catapulted me over the bars and onto the ground—and telling me to keep my eyes fixed on where I wanted to go. The latter instruction sprang to mind as I swept my gaze over Yankee Girl’s ass. Tight jeans hugged her peachy bum as she peddled in front of me up the trail. She’d biked here before, she’d said, and knew the way.

  Fuck, she was fit. Physically as well as in the looks department. I prided myself on my endurance and high tolerance for exercise pain—despite the abuse I’d heaped on my body—thanks to weightlifting. But this ride was something else. I felt alive. Healthy. Wellbeing seared every muscle and fiber of my body…I was on fucking fire, and I liked it. The wind whipped across my face. Sweat beaded my brow, and I let out a “Whoop” of pure exuberance.

  At the top of the trail, Hayley pulled up and jumped off her bike. I followed suit and we drank from our water bottles to slake our thirst.

  “That was cool beyond words,” I said, my chest heaving as I took in gulps of air.

  Without warning, my legs bucked, and I reached for Yankee Girl to steady myself. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Need to rest a little.” I glanced around for somewhere we could sit. Somewhere we wouldn’t be noticed by the public. There weren’t that many people about. A few hikers and dogwalkers. If anyone recognized me, I’d have to pose for a selfie, though, and it would mean being thrown back into the reality of my rock star existence.

  A reality I’d like to avoid for now.

  I indicated toward a narrow path leading a small distance down the hillside behind a rocky outcrop. “Let’s head that way. We can take a break and look at the view.”

  We pushed our bikes along the track and found a grassy knoll, where we laid them on their sides.

  “I thought the panorama from your decking was amazing.” Hayley removed her helmet, sat and hugged her knees. “But this is even better.”

  I parked my bum on the grass next to her and took off my helmet. “We’re higher up here, so we can see further.”

  She pointed toward the city. “I grew up there. LA is my home. I love traveling but I also love coming back.” She turned and smiled into my eyes. “Do you miss England?”

  The question caught me by surprise, and I had to think momentarily. “Not much. The weather sucks most of the time. And I hate the attention of the tabloid press whenever we visit.”

  “How about your parents? Don’t you miss them?”

  “I saw them when we were in London two years ago. We’re not close,” My tone was blunt, and I hoped she wouldn’t pursue the matter.

&nb
sp; She angled her heart-shaped face close to mine, and I found myself fascinated by the golden lights in her amber irises.

  Her eyelashes fluttered and she caught her lip between her teeth.

  Fuck, I wanted to kiss her. Would she be up for it?

  Only one way to find out.

  I leaned in and our eyes locked. Her pupils dilated, and I took that as a ‘yes.’

  My lips brushed hers, and I eased her into the kiss, soft but firmly, without hesitation. My teeth toyed with her bottom lip, and I sucked on it. I pressed my mouth down, waiting for her to open for me. When she did, I slipped my tongue inside and captured hers with mine.

  God, she tasted good. Our tongues rolled together in a slow dance without rhythm or pace. She slid her fingers into my hair, moaning, and I held her in place with my hand around the nape of her neck while I groaned into her mouth.

  She pulled back with a gasp.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We can’t do this.”

  “It’s just kissing.” I shot her a pleading look. “Didn’t you like it?”

  She laughed and swatted my chest. “That’s not the point. I told you I wouldn’t let you fuck me, and I meant it.”

  I locked her wrist in my palm and brought it to my lips, breathing hard against it. “Kissing isn’t fucking. We’re mates, aren’t we? We can have fun sharing our saliva…”

  She swatted my chest again. “Urgh. That’s disgusting.”

  Keep it lighthearted, Foxy, I told myself. At least for now. The thought came unbidden into my mind and it occurred to me that I would fuck her, sooner or later. And I held onto that thought as we replaced our helmets, remounted our bikes, and I took the lead toward the edge of the canyon and then home.

  Chapter 8

  Hayley

  A warm breeze lifted the fronds of the palm trees by the decking, and the sky above glowed darkly orange. Pierce had brought an acoustic guitar out with us and was noodling while we sat sipping iced lemon tea in the cool of night. We were alone…Joe had gone up to his room, but Pierce and I, tired from our ride to the canyon, had taken a nap by the pool after lunch. We’d both declared we weren’t sleepy yet.

  I played with my braid and I thought about that kiss earlier. I shouldn’t have kissed Pierce back, but I’d been lost in the moment. He’d been nonchalant about it, like it had meant nothing, which was to be expected, I supposed. My chest squeezed. His kiss had been expert—he’d definitely known what he was doing—and I’d melted like a marshmallow. Problem was, I couldn’t stop myself from longing for him to kiss me again, which was totally stupid and could only lead to disaster. Pierce Fox wasn’t boyfriend material…he wasn’t the white picket fence type. He’d take my heart and rip it into little pieces if I threw it at him. Which I wouldn’t, I reminded myself. He was a manwhore, who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He’d want to fuck me and, when he discovered I was unfuckable, he’d move on to the next available target.

  I leaned away from him, staring at his long fingers while he strummed the band’s big hit, Harbor in the Storm. It was weird to see him without the habitual drumsticks in his hands. Since Phoenix had become the lead singer of Vanilla Sky, Pierce, Rhys and Zach had taken over singing backup for ChiMera. But this was the first time I’d heard Pierce sing on his own, and his baritone voice sent a thrill through me.

  “You’re good,” I said, and I meant it. “Did you always wanna be a rock star?”

  “Yeah.” He drew his brows together. “Did you always wanna be a stylist?”

  “I’m a make up artist first and foremost. That’s what I learned at beauty school. Hair styling and dressing were skills I picked up along the way.”

  I blew out a sigh. Pierce had switched tables on me, got me to talk about myself. Why wouldn’t he share anything about himself? He was like a clam, slamming shut whenever I tried to get him to open up.

  He launched into a riff I didn’t recognize. “Is that one of Axel’s new pieces?”

  “Nah, I wrote this. Do you like it?”

  It was different than ChiMera’s usual upbeat melodies. There was a rawness to it that tugged at my emotions. “I like it a lot.”

  “Wanna hear the lyrics?” He gave me an uncertain glance. “They’re still a little rough…” Without waiting for an answer, he started to sing,

  I’m just biding my time

  Until shit gets better

  Farther down the line

  I’ll find a savior.

  The road ahead is winding

  And the wind is in my face

  I so wanna run

  But I don’t wanna join the race.

  And if you’re here to judge me

  Please don’t think me bad

  I made the choices freely

  From the first to the middle to the last.

  The road ahead is winding

  And the wind is in my face

  I so wanna run

  But I don’t wanna join the race.

  “Wow.” I enthused. “Have you played it to the band yet?”

  “Nope. Not going to either. It’s not for ChiMera but for me.” His smirk made my belly flutter. “And now it’s for you too.”

  “Well, I’m really honored.” My voice choked. The poignancy of his words and music had affected me deeply. “I think you should absolutely show it to the others. You’re good.”

  “I’m happy being their drummer.” His inky blue eyes darkened. “You know something? The drummer is always the easiest member of a band to replace.”

  I shook my head. An image of Pierce on his podium, dark locks flowing, bare chested and smashing his sticks down on the skins, came into my mind. “Not you, Limey. Your drumming is genius. You’re irreplaceable.”

  “Sweet of you to say so.” He grinned ruefully. “You’re not a bad makeup artist yourself.” His grin became cockier. “Just had a great idea. I’m getting cabin fever stuck here. Let’s go out tomorrow. You can disguise me. Make me look completely different.”

  It was like the ground had disappeared beneath my feet I was so freaking surprised. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “It’ll be okay.” That puppy-dog look again. “We’ll take Joe with us. Worst case scenario I’ll have to pose for a few selfies.”

  “Hmm. I could make you real ugly, I suppose. No one will know it’s you.”

  “Right on,” he snickered. “It’ll be a laugh.”

  “Come with me to visit my dad first.” I gave voice to the idea that had just occurred to me. “If you can get by without being recognized in the nursing home, we can go on from there…”

  “It’s a deal.” He slung the guitar over his shoulder, reached down and pulled me to my feet. “We’ll set off for a bike ride first thing in the morning. Then you can uglify me when we get back. And we’ll go somewhere like normal people after we’ve visited your dad.”

  He wants to be like a normal person, I realized. It must be hard to live your life in a goldfish bowl. My heart was melting again, dammit.

  Upstairs, he stopped outside his bedroom door. “Gimme a goodnight kiss?”

  “Sure.” I raised myself on tiptoe to aim a kiss at his cheek.

  Except, he was too tall. Why wasn’t he bending his head?

  He smiled down at me. “Need a hand?”

  Before I could say anything, he lifted me up. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  And, so help me God, I did. Call me naïve, but I honestly thought I would give him a chaste kiss.

  He clearly had other ideas. He walked us backward until my spine was against the wall. With one hand, he tilted up my chin while he held me in place with the other. He meshed his mouth to mine, his tongue seeking entrance. And I couldn’t help myself, I gave it to him.

  Our heads switched sides, our tongues dancing, our lips sliding. The chemistry that had ignited between us, threatened to burn me to ashes.

  I clung to him, breathless, and tangled my fingers in his hair.

  He sucked on my tongue and
bit down.

  My teeth nipped at his mouth.

  Our kiss had become frantic and so freaking hot.

  He thrust his pelvis and his hardness poked into me.

  I froze.

  Oh, God.

  I pulled away from him. “I’m suddenly real tired.” With false bravado I looked him in the eye. “Can you put me down, please, so I can go to bed?”

  I caught the disappointment in his gaze. No doubt he’d thought I’d end up in his bed.

  Not gonna happen, buddy. Not with this girl.

  He lowered me to my feet.

  “Good night, Limey,” I whispered.

  “Good night, Yankee Girl,” he whispered back.

  And without a backward glance, I sauntered down the corridor to my room.

  Chapter 9

  Pierce

  Standing under the shower head, dick in my hand, I thought about Hayley while I rubbed one off. Never had a girl blown hot and cold on me like her. Maybe I’d cleaned up my act too much? Chicks dug ‘dirty’ rockers. I always pulled when I was in a sweaty grungy state after a concert. Whenever I’d go on a date with a celebrity, I made sure I wore a pair of leather trousers that hadn’t seen a dry cleaner in months, and a filthy, torn t-shirt to show off the tats on my shoulders. I’d cover myself with metal chains and other shit to play the part. Trouble was, I’d been playing the role of someone so far into sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll that it had become my reality. Without it, who was I? I had no bloody clue and maybe Yankee Girl didn’t know either. She’d been fucking turned on while kissing me, then, boom, it was like cold water had been thrown over her and she’d morphed into an ice maiden.

  I squeezed my cock and worked its length, pressing my forehead to the tiled wall and closing my eyes. I imagined fucking her, spreading her soft thighs wide while I pounded into her. She’d moan and cry out my name, her hands gripping my ass as she climaxed. The thought was enough to make me blow. I grunted and jerked my hips, my balls drawing up tight into my body. Spurts of hot cum spilled out over my fingers. Fuck, yeah.