Rock Star Romance: Dan (Contemporary New Adult Rockstar Bad Boy Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 4) (97 page)

Figures crumpled
around them, to be replaced by other figures, and Rachel struggled to stay
upright as she felt blows land along her ribs, against her arms and legs. She
felt hot, sticky blood—her own, and that of henchmen—as she fought to keep her
organs protected, as she dodged and collided with phony ticket takers and Dylan
alike. She felt the train shifting underneath her, slowing down—it was coming
into the station they were going to change at. “You okay?” she called out to
Dylan.

“Keep it up,” he told
her. “I’m still alive and so are you.”

“That’s something at
least,” she agreed, slashing at yet another phony ticket taker. How many of
them were there?

The train’s brakes
squealed, and through the window Rachel saw the station flashing into view.
More people were arriving—but they were not in phony uniforms. “We got you;
we’ve got you. You’re all right.” Rachel felt her head swimming as the world
spun and swooped around her and wondered just how many times she had been cut,
how much blood she had lost. She staggered against Dylan and struggled to keep
her eyes open, to know just what was going on as they arrived at their
destination. A bland voice announced their location in both French and English.
Rachel realized that the people who had come were the backup, the extra
security that James had sent to tail them, as a failsafe.

“Took you long
enough,” she said, as darkness swirled around her. “Dylan, you okay? Dylan?”
There was no answer from the man and she tried to pull him around to see his
face, but her hands were nerveless and heavy. As the train came to a stop, the
floor seemed to rise up underneath her even as her knees turned to jelly.

“I’m okay, Love. Let’s
get off this damn train.”

Epilogue

“Is it incredibly
cliché of me to notice how incredibly green everything is here?” Rachel asked,
turning to look at Dylan; he lay on a dinosaur of a couch, sprawled and looking
as at-ease as ever.

“Even if it is, it’s
not like it’s a cliché for no reason,” Dylan pointed out. He opened his eyes
and looked at her, smiling slowly. Rachel felt a rush of heat flash through her
at the sight of the smile, accompanied by the tantalizing view of his nearly
naked body, barely covered by a blanket.

They had arrived in
Ireland a week before; it was, as Dylan pointed out, the safest place for them
to wait things out. After the narrow escape on the train, they’d both had to
spend a little time at a tiny hospital in Belgium; the struggle had earned
Dylan another cracked rib, and a few broken bones in his hand, and a few of the
cuts that Rachel had received had required stitches to heal properly. But
between them and the backup that James Whitley had set up, they had more than
enough evidence to link the henchmen—dead and alive—to Jeffrey Brock, and
enough witnesses to attest to multiple crimes. The henchmen who were alive were
rotting in a Belgian jail, while Brock himself had gone into hiding.

When it hit the
presses, James had called Rachel directly. “You and Dylan should go to
Ireland,” he had suggested. “Dylan has informed me he still has friends there,
and you could lie low while I sort out the rest of this mess.” Rachel had only
been too glad to get moving again.

“You’ll catch a chill
like that, Love,” Dylan said from the couch, extending one arm invitingly
towards her. Rachel reluctantly left the window, walking across the living room
to where Dylan sprawled. She sank down onto her knees next to the couch,
looking at him intently. Dylan coiled his arm around her, drawing her closer,
his hand sliding up along her back to cup the base of her skull.

“You’re going to hurt
yourself,” Rachel murmured, though she didn’t resist his move to kiss her.

“Not if you’re
careful,” Dylan countered, claiming her lips. He lifted her carefully and
Rachel found herself standing, climbing onto the couch, straddling his hips
slowly and carefully as the kiss deepened, Dylan’s hands wandering over her
half-clothed body.

“Has anyone ever told
you that you have a one-track mind?” Rachel asked, barely breaking away from
the kiss. Dylan chuckled lowly, his hands sliding up underneath the loose
sweatshirt she was wearing to cup her bare breasts, giving them a lingering
squeeze. Rachel’s nipples began to harden to his touch, a rush of heat flowing
through her in automatic reaction to the caress.

“A few busted ribs…
are not going to stop me,” Dylan murmured, his fingertips wrapping around her
nipples, teasing and rolling them slowly. Jolts of hot-and-cold pleasure
crackled through Rachel’s body and she felt herself heating up from within, her
pussy starting to feel slick. “I need to make up for lost time.” He pulled the
sweatshirt up, over her head, and tossed it across the room, his hands falling
to her hips.

“You’re insane,”
Rachel told Dylan, kissing him on the lips lightly. He shifted underneath her,
groaning slightly; his ribs were healing, but slowly. Rachel squirmed against
Dylan’s hips as she felt the blanket that separated them slipping out from
underneath her.

“You love it, really,”
Dylan countered, and Rachel felt the heat of his erection pressing against her
slick folds as he moved her body on top of his. She moaned as his cock slid and
slipped along her labia, tantalizingly close but not exactly where she wanted
it. “Let’s just take it slow,” Dylan suggested, rocking his hips up against
hers. Rachel nodded, for the moment too turned on to speak; she caressed him
carefully, holding herself up on her knees, balancing her weight on her hands
above his shoulders. Dylan’s fingers slipped down between their bodies and
Rachel moaned out again as he found her clit by touch, stroking her teasingly.

“Slow is good,” Rachel
managed to say, shivering as Dylan rubbed the bead of nerves, rocking his hips
steadily to rub his cock along her slick labia. “But if you don’t—if you keep
teasing me like this—it’s not slow, it’s just mean.”

“Can’t have you
thinking I’m mean…can we?” Dylan’s fingers retreated from her pleasure center
and Rachel gasped as she felt him guide his cock up against her, as he thrust
his hips upward, sliding inside of her inch by inch. She pushed down to take
him in deeper, opening her eyes to look down at his face. Dylan’s dark eyes
were nearly black with desire, staring up at her with undisguised need as they
began to move together, friction building up between their bodies enough to
make Rachel sweat in moments.

She rocked and twisted
her hips, rising and falling, as Dylan’s hands danced all over her body,
caressing and teasing her. He cupped her breasts, bringing them up to his mouth
to claim each of her nipples in turn with his lips and tongue. Rachel felt the
tension mounting in her moment by moment, felt her body heating up, her muscles
flexing in spasms around Dylan’s cock as she became more and more turned on.
Dylan’s hand slipped between their bodies once more and as he thrust deeper and
deeper inside of her, Rachel cried out at the feeling of his fingers playing
against her clit, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through her body in
crackles that lit up her nervous system.

She struggled to hold
back, wanting to savor the closeness of their bodies, wanting the moment to go
on forever; but as Dylan pulled her face down to kiss her hungrily, his tongue
probing her mouth as he thrust harder and faster inside of her, Rachel felt her
self-control breaking. She held herself up off of his injured body with an
effort, shifting her knees up to take him deeper, pushing herself down onto him
harder as she moaned against his lips. In a matter of moments, it was nearly
impossible for her to hold back her climax anymore, and Rachel grabbed at the
pillow underneath Dylan’s head, every muscle in her body clamping down as the
first wave of her orgasm jolted through her.

Dylan kept himself
under control, holding back, and Rachel’s climax deepened, pleasure rippling
through her as he slowed down and then sped up once more, his hands wandering
over her with possessive lust. Her spasms began to abate and Dylan continued to
touch her, working her out of satisfaction and into renewed need. He groaned as
her body heated up again, hands tightening on her, and Rachel found herself
moving to his rhythm, falling into his movements as readily as a dance, as
aftershocks crackled through her nerves and she felt the tension mounting once
more.

Her second orgasm
crashed through her as abruptly as the first, and Rachel fought to keep from
collapsing onto Dylan’s body, supporting her weight on arms that felt like
jelly and legs that seemed more and more unreal with every driving thrust of
Dylan’s cock inside of her. This time, they reached their orgasms together—and
Rachel swallowed down Dylan’s moans hungrily as she felt his warm gush flooding
into her once, twice, a third time.

She carefully picked
herself up off of Dylan’s body, and he shifted on the couch lazily, pulling her
around and cradling her next to him. Their bodies were slick with sweat, and
Rachel thought hazily that they’d both want a shower in a matter of minutes,
but she was too satisfied to move.

They would stay in
Ireland for a while; James was still working to regain full control of his
company, and to clear up her precarious legal situation. But upon their arrival
in Ireland, Rachel had not been at all surprised to find that her bank account
showed a balance of nearly ten million dollars, with a note on the bank
transfer that brought her to that balance telling her to enjoy herself. “We
could just stay here, you know,” she said to Dylan, reaching up to swipe a lock
of his hair away from his face.

“We could do that. Or
we could go back to Rouen and work on your French some more.” Rachel rolled her
eyes, swatting at him playfully, careful not to hit him where he was injured.

“As long as I’m with
you, I don’t care where we are,” Rachel said quietly.

“I told you: you’re
not getting rid of me. I’ll follow you anywhere, Rachel,” he said, tucking a
wisp of her hair behind her ear. “I love you.”

THE END

Also Available From
Jade Allen:

The Bad Boys Of
Molly Riot

Hard Rock Star Series,
Books 1-3

Warning!
When you
meet the Bad Boys Of Molly Riot, they'll pluck your heartstrings with their
irresistible charms--and rock your desires in ways you've never imagined...

Book 1:
North

I was a rock star in one
of the most successful bands in the Miami area. I had money, fame and millions
of female fans… and then my world came crashing down.

I couldn’t believe it! I
had to go to rehab “for my own safety.” Pffft!

Whatever. I’ll spend a few
weeks doing some BS art projects and waste some time listening to a bunch of
idiot addicts whine about how their parents never loved them.

Just my luck, while I was
just chillin’, waiting for my dealer to find someone else to blame for his
stolen stash, I met my hottest dream in the form of a counselor who wouldn’t
just let me slide.

Just when I thought I
couldn’t be in a worse situation, one little mistake—a little fun in the art
room with this counselor, the hottest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on—and we were
both thrown out.

To make things worse, the
girl that I thought was my “hottest dream” became my angel. And I’m not about
to let anyone—not even Big J and not even my own stupid messed-up self—ruin the
little taste of heaven she gives me.

Book 2:
Nick

Am I just attracted to a
woman I can’t have? Or is Olivia the one who has the power to bring me to my
knees once and for all?

Our singer Alex landed our
band on every major gossip tabloid and website with his crazy antics. Now,
we’re tasked with running an insane amount of press to run damage control with
the hopes of cleaning up our image.

So when this chick Olivia
Grant showed up—representing yet another magazine—I expected to hear the same
lazy questions we’d been getting for months.

Man, was I wrong. Not only
was she way smarter than anyone else we’d talked to in the press, but she
caught me off guard—somehow she was able to resist my charms, and I gotta tell
you, you could smell and taste the electricity and sexual tension between us.

One night after a few
rounds of drinks, we found ourselves alone together. Before we knew, it we
dismantled every bit of resistance and doubt and were fully committed to being
absolutely consumed by a night of pure debauchery and pleasure.

I’ve never been the
long-term relationship type, but for sex this absolutely mind-blowing and life
changing, I’m willing to compromise—but how do I convince her that she’s different
than all the others and that she alone is my addiction?

Book 3:
Julian

I’m the lead guitarist in
one of the most successful bands in the Miami scene named Molly Riot. Our label
is trying to convince us to tour with Juniper Woolf, a rival band that’s
fronted by an attention-seeking brat named Fran Chambers.

When my band mates finally
convinced me to sign off on the tour, I thought there was no way that I’d ever
get along with Fran...that is, until I started spending time alone with her on
the tour bus.

You know, I’ve gotta say,
no woman has ever had such a pull on me. We can’t keep our hands off each
other, but the problem is, we can’t let anyone else in either of our bands know
about our little tryst. If the press were to get a hold of this, we’d all be in
for one hell of a sh*tstorm.

Do you have any idea how
hard it is to hook up on a tour bus without anyone else knowing about it? I’ll
tell you one thing, if the two of us can keep this a secret, we’ll each deserve
an Oscar…

Grab Your Copy
HERE

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Unlimited!