Bad Boy Romance: Nick (Romantic Suspense Alpha Male Romance) (New Adult Rock Star Contemporary Short Stories) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 2) (19 page)

****

"There sure does seem to be a lot of trucks here,"
she said as she came to Damian's side.

He made an affirmative sound that she did not find terribly
reassuring and took her by the elbow to guide her toward the back of the
building. This was a place he had obviously been many times before because he
led her directly to a door on the back brick wall that she would never have
noticed in the darkness and pulled it open.

Immediately a wave of yellow light, the smell of cigarette
smoke and beer, and the sound of a country song being fed through a meat
grinder washed over her. She hesitated and Damian eased around her, giving her
a gentle tug so that she would follow him inside. They stepped into a brightly
lit area with a cracked linoleum floor and wood paneled walls. A door to one
side marked the entrance to a kitchen and two doors on the other wall had
little vinyl stick figure drawings that indicated the men's and women's
restrooms. In between these doors was a tiny table with a single chair and a
dusty-looking silk flower in a narrow bud vase.

"What is that?" Nixie asked.

"The non-smoking section," Damian replied.

"Charming."

"Come on," he said, smiling as he reached for the
handle of a second door in front of them.

As he pulled the door open, the smell and sound intensified
and Nixie had to take a moment to assimilate herself. She had spent plenty of
time in bars, but they had been more of the cocktails-and-flashing-lights-type
bars. This one had the distinct feeling of the corner destination that wives
would often lose their husbands to and that was the receptacle for countless
drowned hopes, dreams, and sorrows.

They walked up a dark blue-carpeted ramp into the main
section of the bar. Just as they reached the top, the horrific song ended and a
smattering of applause rippled through the room. Nixie took another step into
the bar and suddenly she felt every pair of eyes in the space turn to face her.

She stood in a sea of cowboys and women of ambiguous ages
who appeared to be made of tanned leather that had been lightly tinted with
fluorescent orange. They all stared at her intensely, taking in her long black
hair, brief black dress, fishnet hose, and high heels to Jesus. A few eyes
flickered to her red fingernails and matching lipstick. The bravest settled on
the black crystal drop pendant that nestled in the swell of her ample cleavage.

"Oh, lord, they look like they think the Angel of Death
has come for them," she muttered to Damian.

He laughed and reached down to take her hand. His hand felt
warm despite the chill of the air outside and she enjoyed the rougher texture
of his skin against hers. She let him guide her further into the bar. As they
walked she noticed that someone had climbed up onto a small carpeted platform
at the far end of the bar and was clutching the microphone in front of him like
he was preparing to breathe life into it.

Holy hell, it's a karaoke bar. A karaoke bar filled with
cowboys. At least that explained the frightful music when they first came
inside.

"So this is your idea of fun?" she asked as they
slipped onto the stools around a high top table toward the front of the bar.

"Yes."

"Fantastic," she said, glancing around for a drink
list, "and do you sing?"

"Only once I have enough tequila in me."

"What, you don't drink moonshine?" she cracked.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"You don’t drink blood?"

"Fair enough. Speaking of libations, how do we get
service around here? The bartender seems to be a little on the busy side."

Damian scoffed.

"You only use the bartender if you are sitting at the
bar ordering a beer. If you are sitting at a table, you use Missy."

He gestured and seemingly out of nowhere a woman with
approximately six shades of blond hair and a chest that made Dolly Parton look
dainty appeared beside our table.

"Damian! How're you doing, Honey?"

"I'm good, Missy. How's about a couple of shots?"

Missy turned to evaluate Nixie and Nixie had the sudden
feeling that she was continuously being stripped down and brought up for
inspection. She glanced at Damian who smirked at her.
Maybe being stripped
naked wouldn't be so bad as long as he was in the room.

"And who's this?"

"This is my new friend Nixie."

"I'm just sure she is," Missy said, pivoting and
walking away.

"What did she mean by that?" Nixie asked.

"I’m sure she didn't mean anything by it."

"No woman ever says anything without meaning something
by it."

"Oh, really? And why do you say that?"

"Because all women are bitches. All of them. Every
single last one of them."

"That seems like a fairly pessimistic perception of
your own sex."

Missy sidled back up to the table and settled two shots
along with a bowl of lime wedges between them. Nixie picked up one of the shots
and tossed it back.

"I'm just a realist," she said, hissing through
the burn of the tequila.

Damian laughed and took his shot with a bit more poise and
control than Nixie had, sucking a lime wedge after. His eyes met hers as his
mouth pulled across the wedge, the tip of his tongue slipping out to run across
it as he took it from his lips. Her body tightened and she licked her lips
unconsciously.

Missy appeared back by the side of the table and put two
more shots on the table, this time with a touch more force than was probably
necessary, but even the clink of the glass hitting the wood didn't pull Nixie's
attention away from Damian's mouth and hot chocolate eyes. He reached over and
took her fingers in his hand again, gently pulling her off of the stool toward
him.

****

Damian was sitting facing her and as Nixie stepped down from
her stool and toward him, he parted his knees so he could pull her to stand
between his thighs. His hands came to her full hips and kneaded gently into
them. She sighed and leaned closer, letting her body brush against his.

"You know, everyone is looking at you," he said
softly, "It's not every day a woman that looks like you comes in
here."

"Oh, really?" she said, nudging her hips against
him subtly, "and what exactly is it that I look like?"

"The pin-up model of the damned," he said and
laughed softly, "Luscious," he ran his hands down her soft waist and
the swell of her hips accentuated by the tight black wiggle dress.
"Tempting," he cupped his hands around her plump ass and pulled her
in a little closer. "Sexy as hell."

"Let's give them a little more to look at."

Nixie reached beside her to pick up a wedge of lime and the
saltshaker. Tucking the lime into his mouth so that he gripped the rind between
his teeth, she ran her tongue along the side of his neck and coated the damp
skin with salt. She picked up one of the new shots and leaned against him.
Damian groaned as she licked the salt from his neck, took down the shot, and
then bit down into the lime in his teeth, sucking the juice into her mouth.

His hands tightened on her hips and she felt him harden at
the front of his pants. He released her hip with one hand and reached between
their mouths to remove the lime, tilting his face up so that his lips settled
onto hers. She sighed and relaxed into the kiss, bringing her hands to the back
of his neck so she could hold on to him as he parted her lips with the tip of
his tongue and explored her mouth. After a few seconds she pulled back slightly
and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. He tasted just as sweet as his eyes
looked and she dipped in for another kiss.

"I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what
happens."

Nixie's mouth tore away from Damian's and she turned to see
Patrick standing beside their table. In her indulgence of Damian's hot
chocolate eyes and citrus-flavored tongue, she had completely forgotten that
Patrick was supposed to meet them and the sight of him suddenly standing there
startled her. The look of him against the backdrop of the cowboys with the
strains of a heartbreaking Patsy Cline ballad made all the more painful by the
fact that it was sung by a woman who seemed almost incapable of standing was
somewhat disorienting.

She glanced down at Damian's watch and then back at Patrick.

"Technically it’s been forty five minutes. You're
early."

"I managed to claim emotional distress and get out of my
shift early."

"Emotional distress?" Damian asked, "Is that
a legitimate excuse?"

"You would be surprised," Nixie said, running her
fingers through the thick, silky hair at that nape of his neck and leaning in
to touch a soft kiss to his lips again.

"I'm just going to take this seat right here,"
Patrick said.

He squeezed between Nixie and the stool she had recently
vacated and hopped on.

"I guess you're just going to have to sit right
here," Damian whispered against her hair and turned her around to lift her
up into his lap.

Patrick picked up one of the slices of lime and sucked on
it, grimacing at the sour flavor.

"I need something with a little more substance. I think
I'm going to make a visit over to the bar."

Patrick hopped down again and started over to the bar.

"Is he going to be ok?" Nixie asked.

Patrick weaved his way through the crowd of men standing
three deep at the bar and slipped his way in between two to stand up against
the edge. Some of the men gave him confused, appraising looks, but none seemed
outwardly disturbed at his presence.

"Yeah, he's going to be fine. Cris'll take care of
him."

"Cris?"

Damian gestured to the bar and Nixie saw a strong-looking
woman with short hair the color of flames step up to Patrick. She gave him a
grin and patted him on his cheek.

"Everywhere he goes, he collects people. It's pretty
impressive."

"I bet you get your share of attention."

Damian's mouth was tucked close enough to her ear that she
felt his lips move across it as he spoke and his hands grazed against her
generous thighs. She nestled into his lap and felt him twitch in response.

"I got your attention," she said.

"Not just me," he replied, "You have this
entire room in the palm of your hand." She looked at him skeptically.
"You don't believe me? OK," he turned so that she was facing the
stage and could see the man standing at the microphone, waiting for his song to
come on so he could sing. "That is my buddy Remy. Look at how he's
watching you."

Nixie saw Remy's eyes burning into her, scanning her hungrily
as the first notes of a song built around him. It was not a country song like
the last string of karaoke performers had attempted, but a metal song that
brought much the same shocked stares from the assortment of men throughout the
bar as she had when she first walked in. He licked his lips and she moaned
softly. Remy was just as beautiful as Damian and filled out his jeans in the
same irresistible way.

The song's introduction ended and Remy started to sing. His
voice was rich, deep, and just growly enough to send a shock through her core
and make her wriggle slightly in Damian's lap. Damian made an approving sound
and lifted his hips just enough to press against her.

"You like him, don't you?" he murmured into her
ear.

Nixie bit her bottom lip and ran her hand down to the side
of Damian's rock-hard thigh, digging her nails into him. Remy continued to
stare at them, his gaze on her getting hotter and more intense the longer he
sang. Damian ran his hand up her waist, just barely grazing along the underside
of her breasts as he dipped his mouth to nibble on her earlobe.

"Well I think I have just enough tequila in me to get
me up on that stage. What do you say we let Remy take care of you while I
sing?" Nixie turned to look at him, her eyes searching his. He smiled at
her and kissed her. "Don't worry. I'll be right back."

He kissed her again, scraping her bottom lip between his
teeth as he pulled away from her. The song ended and she heard Remy put the
microphone back into its stand. Damian carefully eased her off of his lap so
that she stood beside him. He stroked her face gently and walked toward the
stage, giving Remy a meaningful glance as they passed.

Nixie's belly trembled as Remy approached her. The faintest
hint of a smile curved his full, soft lips and his smoky grey eyes slumbered at
her from under long, dark lashes.

"Hi," he said as he got to within a few steps of
her.

His speaking voice was just as sexy as his singing voice and
she felt a tingle between her thighs.

"Hi," she said back, her voice dropping so low she
didn't know if he could even hear it.

Without another word, Remy's hand came to her stomach and he
led her backward a few steps until her back touched the wall behind her. His
mouth crushed down on hers and she felt her body respond immediately. She ran
her hands up Remy's chest, feeling chiseled muscles beneath the soft fabric,
and onto his neck so she could bury her fingers in his hair and hold his mouth
against hers.

****

Nixie whimpered into Remy's mouth, putting a voice to the
desire that had been building since she first saw Damian. He gripped her hips
tightly, pulling them against him so that she could feel the already-hardening
erection pressing toward her. A moment later she felt him pull her away from
the wall so she was up against his chest, led her sideways a step, and then
pushed her back.

She expected to hit the wall again, but instead, she felt
her body come into contact with someone else. His hands came to her ribs and
she felt him ease her back so that she rested her head against his shoulder.
She breathed in the scent of Damian and her body tightened again as if seeking
their touch.

"It seems that someone else got to the DJ before I
did," he said into her hair, and then kissed the side of her neck.

"Who?" she managed to say through her labored
breath.

The opening strains of "These Boots Were Made for
Walking" game over the speaker and she knew exactly who. She opened her
eyes and glanced around Remy's shoulder to see Patrick in the middle of the
stage, his back to the rest of the bar and his hips bouncing to the beat.

"Oh, lord."

Patrick suddenly whipped around and started singing, his
heart pouring out every ounce of Nancy Sinatra he could muster as he performed
a dance that looked like this was not the first time he had done this song. She
waited for the redneck renegades to start an uprising. Instead, it seemed that
Patrick's retro venture had touched something inside them and several of the
women streamed onto the small dance area in front of the stage to reminisce
about their teen years. Many of the men were nodding their heads and she even
saw a few mouthing the words.

Well, damn. Patrick was apparently the cowboy pied piper.

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to say right
now," the DJ said over his microphone as Patrick dropped to his hands and
knees and started crawling across the stage, "I usually heckle new people,
but I just don't even have any words for what's happening."

"I think that he has found his new home," Nixie
said.

She felt Damian's arms encircle her waist and he bent over
slightly so that he molded to her body.

"I guess that means we have a little bit of time on our
hands. Let's take a walk."

"A walk?" she asked, her hand coming up to cup the
back of Damian's head as the tip of his tongue played across the curve of her
neck and shoulder.

When Remy first pressed her to the wall she had felt the
eyes of everyone in the bar on them, but now that Patrick was in full diva mode
she probably could have taken off all of her clothes right then and no one
would have noticed. No one, of course, but the two men she very much wanted to
notice her naked.

"Mmm-hmmm," Damian murmured affirmatively,
"That field across the street backs right up to Remy's ranch. I've walked
through it a thousand times."

Nixie leaned her head back to afford Damian better access to
her neck and bent her knees slightly so she could stroke her body against him.
Remy's hands were still gripping her hips and she felt his thumbs massaging in
circles into the front of her pelvis.

"Is Remy coming with us?" she asked breathlessly.

Damian let out a soft, short laugh and kissed her shoulder.

"Why don't we let Remy stay here and keep an eye on
Patrick there while he regales the bar with a few more numbers?"

Nixie nodded and Remy leaned forward to catch her mouth with
his, slipping his tongue between her lips again. She wrapped her free hand
around the back of his head so that she held both men, her body closed tightly
between them.

When the kiss ended, Remy backed away from them and Damian led
her out of the front door of the bar. The glow of the neon sign made shadows on
the ground but it offered just enough light that she could see the edge of a
field stretching into the darkness across the street.

Damian held her hand as he led her across the street and
into the grass.

"Why is there a bar across the street from a
ranch?" she asked, trying to navigate the grass but having a difficult
time in her spiked heels.

"The ranch was here long before the bar was,"
Damian answered, walking calmly and securely across the field, "Some kin
to Remy started a tavern here more than a hundred years ago, then once the
travelers stopped staying there, they turned it into a bar."

She nodded and the gesture took her concentration away from
walking enough that one heel sank into the ground and she stumbled. Her hand
grabbed for Damian and he caught her, sweeping her up into his arms so that he
cradled her against his chest. She squealed and he gave a deep laugh before
taking off at a faster pace into the darkness of the field.

They had gone on for a few more minutes when Nixie noticed
the dark outline of a barn ahead of them. Damian carried her to it, releasing
the arm that supported her back long enough to open the door and carry her
inside. The interior of the barn smelled sweet and earthy, and provided a
barrier from the chilly breeze outside. Damian reached beside them to touch the
wall and she saw an electric lantern turn on so it filled the space with a
warm, comforting glow.

He carried her a few more steps forward and then she felt
the strong support beneath her disappear as he tossed her forward. She let out
a short scream, but a second later she landed in a deep, soft pile of hay.