Rock Star: The Song (Book 1 of a Bad Boy Romance) (11 page)

Our tongues danced and encircled each other with an intensity and fiery passion that made breathing hard. I pushed him back and ran my lips down his chest, licking at his hard nipples, running over his rippling muscles and around his abs. I allowed myself to be guided by raw lust. Desire that had overtaken my mind and body. All I wanted to do was devour him. It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and I was experiencing tunnel vision. Nothing but his hard naked body was in my mind. And right now he was half-naked. I reached down and unzipped his jeans. Well, they were Spike’s. With everything tight on him, I couldn’t help but imagine a jack-in-the-box moment.

He pulled me in close again, his thumbs hooked around my belt loops.

It was crazy to imagine that I was doing this with Chase Bryan; the same guy who I’d seen most years on the CMA show. I could feel his hands exploring every inch of my body. They were greedy and desperate for what lay below my clothing. It had never felt so good.

He smelled like crisp spice and aged beer. All my brain cells were firing.

Within a matter of minutes he had torn my clothes from my body and laid me back on the couch.

“Condom?” he asked.

I twisted, reaching down into my clothing to retrieve a condom I always kept on me since our meeting. Maybe I anticipated this. But I wasn’t going to bear the love child of a wild rock star. Perhaps I was driven by lust for him, but I still had some sense.

Yanking his jeans down, I unrolled it onto him, tossing the wrapper aside. He pulled my waist close and lifted me on top of him while he lay back.

“Get on me,” he said. I didn’t question it, as I wanted to feel him inside me. I moved over and sat down on him, feeling him stretching me slowly. Once I was fully impaled, I began moving in motion with his hips. He ground into me, filling me up fast. My breasts hung over him and I watched as he fondled them, taking each one in his mouth. The intense pleasure of him inside as he hit the right spot was almost too much. My lips curled in pleasure.

“That good?” he asked. I didn’t respond, I was far too lost in the height of pleasure that came from the deep thrusting inside me. I rose and fell, rocking back and forth while he gripped my waist.

Between the creak of the floor and our moans, the noise was reaching epic proportions. I fell on him, my hair covering his face as I felt his hands reach behind my ass and explore my insides.

Every touch set my senses alight. Seconds, minutes passed as if time didn’t exist. We moved from position to position. I was on top, then lying on my front with my bottom high in the air as he drove himself deep into me. Then he would pull out, and use his fingers, flicking and rubbing me closer and closer to an orgasm. Waves of delight moved over me as he now lay beside me feeding on my nipple while teasing me with his hand.

In the next moment his body entwined with mine under the flicker of the moonlight that crept in through a crack in the drapes. We both shuddered, feeling love’s sweet release.

W
e lay there
on the floor, a sheet barely covering our nakedness. My body tangled up in his, I listened to his heartbeat as his chest rose and fell. We didn’t speak immediately after, it was if neither of us wanted to break the moment. My mind drifted back and forth between the day’s events and what the future would bring. No matter how a person looked at it, sex changed things. It leveled the playing field. It unlocked emotions and revealed truth. Sometimes that truth wouldn’t be known for days, even months. But once a person had given a part of themselves away, the following days were really the test of how deep that love was, of how much sex had meant to them.

“When will you leave?”

He turned his head toward mine.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I ran my fingers slowly over his abs.

“But you will. This isn’t your life.”

“I know. But I’m not in a rush to go anywhere.”

“What you want and what they want of you are two different things. It’s a given. You’ll leave.”

“What’s the matter, Meghan?”

“I’m just saying. This isn’t real, is it?”

“It’s as real as you want it to be.”

“No, I mean you and me?”

I sat up, pulling my clothes from the couch and sliding back into them. He rested on his elbow and observed me.

“Why are you so quick to dismiss this as a just a fling?”

I don’t know what was going through my mind at that moment. It was a collection of thoughts all muddled together. Emotions, logic, fear and hopes all swimming together fighting for control. I just knew expected it not to last. I had grown used to good things not lasting. My parents had been taken from me. My café had nearly been taken from me. My brother and now Chase. I was just waiting for the rug to be pulled from underneath me. Bracing for the inevitable.

“Distance. You said yourself. You are on the road more times in the year than you are at home. I just don’t see how we can make this work.”

“Why are you bringing this up now? Didn’t you have a good time? I mean, just a few moments ago were you thinking about this? No, I don’t think you were. You were free. You allowed yourself to forget about how it was all going to end.”

“But it’s going to end, isn’t it? You are going to leave in the next day or two and I’ll become just another memory.”

He frowned. “If that’s what you think, why would you bring me here? Why would you make love to me? Are you that bent on causing yourself pain?”

I moved to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. My mouth felt parched.

“I want you. Not because you’re a singer. This. Me, you, I want more of it and it scares me. I’m scared of letting go of you, and I’m terrified of holding on.”

He rose to his feet completely butt naked and walked out to me. As he was embracing me I rested my head on his chest and willed my heart to slow. Taking my face in his hand he stroked my cheek with his thumb and planted a kiss on my lips.

“Whether I go back on tour or not, you and I, we’ll make it work.”

I imagined that was what every rock star told girls. They would make it work, only to separate weeks or months later because life got in the way or another girl came into the picture. I wasn’t a fool. I could stand by myself. I didn’t need him, but I wanted to know him more. To have him around, or at least be a part of his world. I couldn’t care less about the fame. Sure I was pleased to find people liked my songs, but it was all fleeting. What would be hot tomorrow would be mediocre a few months later. I knew this going in. At least I think I did?

* * *

H
er concern was legitimate
. I couldn’t guarantee what tomorrow would hold. Every day held new opportunities and unknown possibilities.

A day later we drove back. We both were silent. It wasn’t awkward, it was if we both accepted the need to think. We had crossed a line in the sand. Our worlds had collided on a new level. Before Emily, I wouldn’t have batted an eye. Meghan would have been another girl I had a good time with. It wasn’t because I wanted to be a dick. It just came with the territory. Being young and reckless brought its own challenges. Life on the road wasn’t stable for anyone. It brought out the worst in even the strongest. My band members Tommy and Mitch were on their second marriages. Each of them struggled with the balance between pursuing dreams and spending time with family.

I knew I wasn’t alone in that regard. Beyond the music industry I had actor friends who struggled with the same. They lived lives of vagabonds, traveling and living up to three or four months in a different state or country while filming. Sure, some brought their family with them. But once kids came along it became tough to do that. Schooling, commitments to family and local events took precedence. It had to. In many ways we were kids who hadn’t grown up. Most of those I played alongside had only ever known the life of a musician. Many had dropped out of school to sing in bars in pursuit of the American dream. Just ours was a lonely one. Glamourous on the surface but empty within was all too common. The only ones who managed to hold it together, were those who had spouses who understood. Few did. Even if they were flexible at the start, eventually even they grew tired of sleeping alone. Cheating abounded like water. Musicians with groupies. Wives of musicians needing a warm body while we were away did the same. No one said anything until they couldn’t take it anymore.

I liked her. Love? That I wasn’t sure about. How could anyone be in love in such a short amount of time? What constituted love? A look? A kiss? Sex? Years together? All of them could be questioned. It was all just a matter of opinion.

When you could have anyone you wanted, sleeping alone was never an issue. I only slept alone when I wanted to. But feeling alone while being with someone was common. In years gone by I awoke in hotel bedrooms lying beside beautiful women who willingly gave themselves to me. I never saw them again. They knew that. Maybe that’s how I managed to explain it away in my mind. Yet when a buffet is prepared for you each time you arrive in a new city, while other men struggle to even get a phone number, the novelty soon wears thin.

When Emily came along it seemed different. And for a moment I was able to imagine my life away from the limelight. When I awoke beside her I didn’t feel alone. It was the same with Meghan.

I couldn’t let that go, and yet I couldn’t have a repeat of what happened to Emily.

I glanced over at Meghan. Her eyes were fixed on the road ahead. She tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear, before noticing I was observing her. As the truck bumped its way down the winding road I thought back to times with Emily. I wasn’t sure what it was about Meghan that reminded me of her. I just knew that I had found someone special. The thought of losing her brought up all the emotion that I had felt years ago, after hearing Emily hadn’t survived.

As we pulled into the town, I noticed the media were still camped outside Meghan’s store. She took a shortcut down a back alley, and turned into a road just beyond the gate that we had run out of a day earlier. What we hadn’t banked on was media had now set up around back. We drove right into them. Once they saw me in the van, the cameras flashed. Meghan slammed on the brakes and was about to back up when I placed my hand on hers. I shook my head.

“No. No more running.”

She gave me a look as if trying to gauge whether I was serious.

“Let’s go.”

I opened the door to an onslaught of cameras being jammed in my face, microphones and elbows.

“Chase, what’s the name of the new girl?”

“Mr. Bryan, can you give us an exclusive on reports that you were involved in an altercation?”

They peppered me with questions as I forced my way through the crowd toward the gate. Meghan was in the same situation. It was madness. Complete chaos and while I was used to it, I wondered what she made of it. Was this what she wanted?

“Get lost,” she said, pushing against men twice the size of her. I was getting nearer to the gate when I heard a couple of them shout, “Give us space, guys.” I turned to see her on the ground. Someone had knocked her down. I don’t know what came over me in that moment. But fury rose up in me like a wildfire. They could batter me, tear me apart, but they wouldn’t do it to her. I charged back through and hit the first reporter who was shoving a microphone in her face instead of helping her up. I took his camera and smashed it on the ground.

“Fuck off.”

I reached for Meghan and helped her up. I used my body to block the swarm of photographers who were used to celebrities pushing back. It didn’t faze them. They weren’t shocked by what I had done. It was almost expected. They wanted to get a reaction out of you. That made for better reporting. It would sell tabloids. It would give them the pay raise or promotion they had been after. They were by all accounts vultures that would feast upon your flesh if it meant they would be fed. It was a brutal and empty existence that few stayed in long-term. But even as one stepped down, there would be another to step into their place. Hungry for their big break. The big payday.

Behind the safety of the gate, I checked on Meghan.

“I’m sorry, Meghan.”

“It’s OK. I’m alright.”

“No cuts, bruises?”

“Maybe a bruise here or there, but nothing that will kill me.”

Once inside the café we were about to head upstairs when I caught sight of her.

Mia.

“There you are! Where the hell have you been?”

“Good to see you as well, Mia.”

She stood upright smoothing out her black corporate dress before turning her eyes to Meghan. She looked her up and down as if examining what might have been the cause of all her trouble.

“Right, well, now you’re here, grab your things and we’re leaving.”

She turned on her heel and was already at the main door before I spoke.

“I’m not leaving. I mean, I can’t leave yet. I still have to pick up the master copy.”

“I’ll have them ship it.”

“No, I’m going to pick it up.”

Her eyes narrowed. Lips pursed together, she stormed back over.

“A moment, would you?” Gesturing toward the door.

I glanced at Meghan and walked over. Behind us Meghan, Spike and Sophie disappeared upstairs. Mia paced back and forth gazing at the ground as if trying to find words that might get through to me. Though I knew she was checking that no one was eavesdropping. Satisfied, she began her usual rant.

“Now listen, Chase. I understand you have made a friend. A new fuck buddy. But all good things come to an end. And right now I am putting out fires and making promises that so far I have not been able to come through on. I’m looking like an idiot. And I don’t like it. So it’s time to pack up and move on.”

I studied her before looking out the blinds that covered the front door. Paparazzi crowded, waiting for anyone to appear.

“We need to talk, Mia. Being here has given me time to reflect on everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. My career.”

“Your career right now will be in the toilet if you don’t listen to me. I’m the only one that is preventing them from flushing.”

“Well, that’s what I’m talking about. I’m tired —”

She groaned. “You are tired? What about me? The past two years have been nothing but hell. We have gone from selling millions to bringing in less than an indie artist.”

“And?”

She looked flabbergasted. “Are you serious?” Her voice got louder.

“Let me lay a few things out here, Chase. You sing. I manage your career. If you could manage your career, you would already be doing that. You pay me a lot of money, to cover your ass, put out fires and get your name on that award every year. And I’ve done that. Every year. Now, I don’t think it’s much to ask to buckle up and get your head back in the game.” She paused to take a breath. “You do want to sing, don’t you?”

I walked slowly over to the counter and sat on one of the stools.

“That’s the thing. You know, Mia, long before I met you, before all these awards, magazine articles and money, I was like her,” I gestured toward the stairs. “Which by the way, her name is Meghan. And thanks for showing her zero courtesy.”

She shook her head in disbelief as she was above having to show anything except her good looks.

“What has she got to do with it?”

“That song. The one that’s going to put your kids through college. Buy you that fourth car, pay your mortgage. That song was written by her.”

“You said you wrote it?”

“I was trying to write. I did the music part, and wrote part of the chorus. But she wrote most of it.”

“Well.” She shook her head. “What has any of this to do with us getting out of here?”

“You wanted to know if I wanted to sing?” I paused for a second. “It’s been a long while since I have felt the passion that she has for music. Words used to flow easily. And you know what, I miss that. I miss not being under the pressure. Being able to just write and sing. That’s what I got into this business to do. Somewhere along the way, I became a drone. A puppet for a corporation to move around as they wished. They don’t care about this song, or the next album. They are always looking down the road to the next one. And the next. They are only satisfied as long as I am stocking their bank. You and I, are just pawns in a game.”