Slay Me (Rock Gods #1) (3 page)

             
If only she could tell her.

             
That's something she used to do when she was younger. Pretend she could just call her mother. Dial a random number and just talk. Finally her father had caught her. He'd been furious. Confused and hurt. But it hadn't stopped her compulsively calling people, hoping to hear the voice of a kind woman, secretly believing that if she called enough times, her mother would answer.

             
This time, she knew her mother would be proud of her. The hard working immigrant's compliments were always hard earned, but all the sweeter because of it. Yes, her mother would be proud of how she'd bested Nick Falcon.

             
Then again, his chess comment told her two things. Firstly, that Nick was smarter than he looked. He obviously understood strategy and was familiar with the complex game. Secondly, he was telling her that he wasn't done yet.

             
He wasn't going to just roll over.

             
She smiled grimly. She'd expect nothing less.

             
After all, played well chess was a long game.

Three

              Nick was pacing back and forth on the deck with a bottle of water. According to Marley he had to hydrate to make up for all the brutal drinking he'd been doing lately. Hell, it felt like he'd been doing it forever. He was going to be on bloody TV in two days. He had to look his best.

             
Not a lot of people knew it, but Nick hated TV. Concert film was fine. Fuck, standing in front of 50,000 people with only a pair of skin tight leather pants on was fine too.               Give him a screaming crowd of thousands, give him a drink, he could hold forth all night. But just sitting there and talking with all those invisible eyes on him? Now that made him fucking terrified.

             
Even worse, he had to do it sober.

             
At first his rock star persona had demanded that he party like, well, a rock star. Now getting smashed was just a habit to dull the loneliness and boredom. Sometimes Nick thought that having things come too easily had made him permanently discontent. He'd always wanted more more more. More success, more money, more women, more booze.

             
But sometimes, he wanted less.

             
Most of it was crap after all wasn't it?

             
Still he couldn't complain. He might be trapped in his opulent over the top lifestyle, but the average bloke would trade a body part to have his problems. Which model to sleep with, what fabulous destination to fly to, which house to spend the weekend in. Really, he should be so happy his feet hardly scraped the ground.

             
But lately it just wasn't the case. He felt… empty. Sparring with that hot little label exec had been the most excitement he'd had in years. The woman was a bloody brilliant adversary.

             
And now she'd tricked him into doing something he hated. Worse, it was something he feared. What if he looked foolish? Uncool? That would be it. His career would be over. Then he really would be touring second rate houses.

             
Even worse, he'd be performing on weekdays. Only. It was fine to do a Thursday now and then, but the big names only did Fridays and Saturdays.

             
He shuddered.

             
Without all the glittery facade, he really didn't have anything. If he lost his glimmer, he wouldn't be anyone…

             
Marley walked in with Sandy, his personal trainer. She smiled a brilliant smile at him. Sandy was a gorgeous, incredibly fit and tan California girl. He sighed in relief. Something to get his mind off of all of this… thank god.

             
As with everything, Nick pushed himself to excess. He knew that his physical condition was remarkable, especially considering what he put his body through partying all these years.

             
Still, he knew how to baby himself. Smoothies, the occasional detox and working out with Sandy. Usually after a session, they worked out a little more.

             
In the bedroom.

             
They were finishing up when Sandy raised her eyebrows at him. He shook his head at the unspoken invitation.

             
"Sorry love. I'm a bit distracted."

             
"I noticed that. Everything alright?"

             
He forced a smile.

             
"Absolutely. Just working out the details of a new tour and… lots of other tedious things that I won't bother you with."

             
She smiled.

             
"Okay Nick. I'll see you tomorrow. Make sure you hydrate."

             
He toasted her with his bottle of mineral water.

             
She pecked his cheek and was off. The woman charged an arm and a leg but she was the best. She'd also turned into a friend, on top of the mind boggling sex you could have with a woman who used to be a gymnast. Besides, he could afford her rates so why not?

             
Nick sighed and guzzled his water. At least working out had cleared his head a bit. He would be fine on the TV show. Far greater idiots than he did this every day.

             
He could do this.

             
Marley chose to interrupt that moment of bliss.

             
Why on earth he allowed his cousin/assistant/manager to live with him was beyond him. At the very least he should have tucked the bugger away in a guest house.

             
Marley was his best friend, that's why. Christ, who was he kidding? Marley was his
only friend
.

             
Everyone else was just hired help or hangers on. All he had was family. Thank god for that.

             
Marley was holding a piece of paper.

             
"This came for you."

             
"What is it?"

             
"It's from her."

             
He didn't have to specify who he was talking about. Damn if he didn't know instantly.

             
Little Miss Sabrina Newton.

             
Damn but the woman was becoming a thorn in his side. He couldn't help but smile when he thought of her though. She was like a sexy school teacher. A strict one. He felt his body respond to the thought of her instructing him.

             
In bed of course.

             
First she could boss him around, and then he'd teach her a whole new bag of tricks.

             
"Oh bloody hell, what does she want now?"

             
"Uh… it says 'talking points.' It looks like it's for the interview."

             
"Great just what I need. As if I needed help coming up with things to fucking chat about. Anything else?"

             
"Yeah- the last page has a note."

             
"Well what does it say?"

             
"It says… 'Don't show up drunk'."

             
He snorted a laugh. The woman had a lot of gall telling him what to do. She worked for the him, didn't she? Or at least for the label that he'd single handedly kept afloat for the past decade. But she needn't have worried on that point regardless.

             
Nick was far too nervous to drink.

**********

              Sabrina smoothed her black Herve Leger dress down over her hips. She turned to the side to make sure she looked professional in it. It fit like a glove but the classic bandage style was classy enough for a work event.

             
Tonight, she had to get Nick Falcon on TV.               And she had to make sure he was
good.
              Being sober was the first step. She'd been texting with Marley all day. The guy was funny- rough around the edges but he seemed to have his heart in the right place. He definitely looked after Mr. Falcon.

             
Somebody had to.

             
She'd been reading up on her client's exploits for the past 24 hours. She never read gossip magazines but once she started, she went straight down the rabbit hole.

             
Nick had been married to
three
supermodels. Super. Models. You would think he would date an actress to break up the monotony, but no. He really seemed to have a type. Light blond hair, tall, skinny as a rail.

             
Nothing like her at all.

             
Which was funny, because she could have sworn he had a crush on her. Or at least, he wanted to bed her. She was the complete opposite of his regular type. No matter how much she ran, she had a very womanly shape. An hourglass they called it. Not that she was heavy. She didn't have
time
to gain weight. Plus her hair was dark blond. He seemed to really like that bleached out, drugged out look.

             
She shrugged. None of that mattered. After what she'd read about him, there was no way she would ever sleep with him, let alone date the guy. So he might as well give up now.

             
Where the hell had that come from?

             
Get a grip Sabrina. Why was she even thinking about that? It's not like he'd even asked her out. He only asked to- what was it again?

             
Oh right.

             
Rub his wang on her tits.

             
Classy.

             
Nobody had ever spoken to her that way before. She was still outraged that he would mention his private parts to a woman he had just met. Hell, he'd mentioned
her
private parts too. All in one, incredibly vulgar sentence.

             
Not that she was a prude but- that was disgusting. She'd gotten a clear visual of him gleefully waving his dick in the air too. She frowned. Something about that was intriguing somehow. No matter how piggishly he'd suggested it.

             
Sabrina pushed the image aside. She had business to attend to. Business with a very difficult client.

             
Clearly Nick Falcon was used to doing and saying whatever he wanted to. But that was going to stop now. Today. Definitely before he went on the air. She grabbed her purse and briefcase and walked out to her car.

Four

              Marley was pacing in the green room while Nick watched. He grabbed a handful of grapes from the platter left out for them, popping several in his mouth.

             
"Mate. You are driving me mad."

             
"Sorry, I'm just nervous. Where is she anyway?"

             
Nick shrugged. He was feeling a bit put out that Sabrina wasn't there to be honest.              "I'm the one who is supposed to be nervous. You sit, I'll pace."

             
Marley sat down and immediately started jiggling his leg. Nick knew how he felt. His nerves were out of control. He was worried that he'd over dressed in his gray Armani suit and plum silk shirt. At least he'd resisted all of Marley's attempts to get him to wear a tie.

             
He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up accidentally. Dam, the hair stylist would have his knickers for that. He patted the top of his head and then gave up. His wavy hair always did what it wanted to anyway.

             
Nick glanced at the clock. The show was halfway over already. He was to be the last guest. He was, quite literally, almost on.

             
"Thank god you are here!"

             
Marley was on his feet. Nick turned to the doorway, expecting to see little miss priss in her corporate garb. What he saw instead stopped him in his tracks.

             
Jesus Mary and Joseph.

             
Her outfit the other day hadn't done her justice. Hot as she was, this ensemble showed her assets to the fullest. He swallowed, realizing she was the best looking woman he'd ever seen.

             
Sabrina was wearing her hair pinned up in a chignon, which showed off her beautiful face and long, slender neck. Her dress was- dear lord- it looked like it had been
poured
onto her. He hadn't realized she was quite that curvy… he licked his lips as his mouth suddenly felt like the Goddamn Sahara.

             
He was still gawking at her, staring now at her stupefyingly long legs when she cleared her throat. Twice. How did the woman walk in those spindly heels? He liked them though. He liked them a lot.

             
He raised his dazzled eyes to her face. He was gratified to see that she looked a bit shell shocked herself.

             
"Nick. Are you ready?"

             
"Huh? Oh yeah, right. I'm ready."

             
"You read my talking points? List of topics to avoid?"

             
"Yes m'am."

             
She cocked her head at him.

             
"I'm serious. Come here, let me smell your breath."

             
He grinned, ready to take her up on that offer. He'd be happy to let her smell his breath-
while
he was kissing her senseless.

             
"He hasn't had a drop Ms. Newton. I can vouch for him."

             
Nick gave Marley a dirty look which only made the dolt look confused. Did he not know he was cock blocking him?

             
He smiled at Sabrina the way a lion smiled at a steak.

             
"You look lovely, my dear."

             
She looked a bit scandalized at the term of endearment. He didn't blame her. They'd been at odds since the moment they met after all.

             
"Thank you. I- I was just stuck behind a ten car pile up. I'm sorry I was late."

             
He raised an eyebrow. He doubted she ever did anything wrong. An apology seemed out of character for her. He might only have known her a brief while, but he felt certain that he understood her already. What made her tick.

             
And right now, he was the one making her tick. Damn if she wasn't checking him out surreptitiously. The suit. It must be the suit.

             
He decided he should wear suits more often.

             
A young man with a clipboard and a headset poked his head in the doorway.

             
"You're on in two."

             
"Alright then, let's do this."

             
He held out his arms and did a slow turn for Sabrina's benefit. If she wanted to look, he was more than happy to let her.

             
"Do I pass muster then?"

             
She looked him over. He couldn't help noticing that she seemed to like what she saw... even though she tried to hide it. That was interesting…

             
Very interesting indeed.

             
"You look good."

             
"Just good?"

             
She rolled her eyes.

             
"You know you're hot Nick, just get out there already."

             
He was grinning from ear to ear as he stared at her. She started turning pink.

             
"What?"

             
He leaned in and whispered in her ear.

             
"You finally called me Nick."

**********

             
Sabrina stood off stage, alternating between watching the monitor and the live interview happening just a few feet away. She felt the tension leaving her body, replaced with something else.

             
Relief...

             
Well, mostly relief. She was feeling something else too. She was starting to develop a crush on her client.

             
Not good. Not good at all.

             
Nick was killing it. He oozed charm and confidence. He was telling stories about starting out as a scrappy english lad from a working class neighborhood. Later he alluded to the scandalous behavior of several A listers. He kept it loose and juicy. He made the host look good.

             
Sabrina felt herself responding to his winning manner. He was so warm and intimate. He made you feel like you knew him. Even better, he made anyone listening feel like he knew
them
.

             
He was irresistible.

             
Even she was falling under his spell by the time they cut to commercial. She caught Nick glancing at her while he chatted with the host and sipped a bottle of mineral water. His gaze felt hot- almost palpable. She looked away, pretending to be doing something with her phone.

             
Coward.

             
She didn't know what was getting into her. She worked in the business for god's sake! She'd met tons of stars. Brilliant, talented men and women. None of them had ever made her feel like this.

             
Particularly not after acting like such a pig. No, a goat. He was a stubborn, horny old goat.

             
Damn it.

             
The commercials were over relatively quickly and the interview continued. Then Conan brought up something that hadn't been on the talking points. Warning bells went off in her head.

             
Uh oh.

             
"Nick, you are famous for not doing interviews. What changed your mind?"

             
"Well, I hope I'm famous for something other than that."

             
"Yes of course. Your music has influenced a whole generation of artists. But, seriously, you've never made any appearance like this before. What's going on with that?"

             
"Well I have a new rep at my label. She wanted me to do some interviews here and there. Get the word out about my upcoming tour."

             
"She just asked you? That's all it took after all this time?"

             
"She's very persuasive."

             
He wiggled his eyebrows at the host, obviously implying that Sabrina was giving him something else entirely. She felt like a fist had landed in her stomach.

             
Jesus Christ.

             
He wouldn't.

             
He couldn't.

             
"She must be very convincing."

             
"Conan, she could convince a sheep out of its trousers. I mean- wool."

             
He laughed and covered up his supposed mix up. But Sabrina wasn't fooled. He'd done it on purpose.

             
He was getting even with her.

             
The rest of the interview went by in a haze. She stood there, feeling utterly naked as people stared at her, whispering. And this was nothing compared to what they would do when she got to the office tomorrow.

             
He'd just ruined her career with a casual comment.

             
He'd destroyed her.

             
Everything she'd worked for was gone.

             
Conan was giving his closing remarks and plugging the next show while Nick sat there, looking supremely relaxed.

             
Finally the clasped hands and it was over. He came off stage and smiled at her.

             
"Well love, how did I do?"

**********

              Nick was feeling rather pleased with himself. He'd managed the interview well- much better than that in fact. He'd nailed it.

             
And he'd managed to get a little dig in at Sabrina by implying she'd slept with him. Staring at her in that dress off camera during the commercial had given him the idea.

             
Never mind that he was starting to desperately wish that it was true. The girl had some sort of hold over him. That never happened. All his prior relationships had been ones of convenience. Hot sex, yes. But mostly he'd just gone with the flow when one gorgeous girl or another fell into his lap.

             
This was something else entirely.

             
He'd walk through fire to get this girl in the sack.

             
"So how'd I do then?"

             
Nick smiled at her, expecting a witty reprimand. He liked the way she made him feel like a naughty school boy. He was even starting to enjoy her scolding. But he wasn't prepared for the look in her eyes.

             
She looked devastated.

             
Christ.

             
She covered it well, glancing at her phone. It was buzzing and flashing. He felt guilty suddenly. As if he'd done something wrong.

             
Conan chose that moment to walk by. When he saw Sabrina he raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

             
Crap. He hadn't just made a joke at her expense. He'd made her sound like his groupie hadn't he? Or his girlfriend. No, that would have been better.

             
He'd made her sound like a whore.

             
"Let me take you out for a drink. Make it up to you?"

             
"I don't drink. I'm sorry I- I have to take this call. You did well tonight Nick."

             
He had to hand it to her. She was professional even after what he'd just done to her.

             
Too professional.

             
He'd have preferred it if she yelled at him. Told him to go to hell. Really taken him to task. If he was honest with himself, that's why he'd done it to begin with. Just to see her reaction.

             
Nick watched her proudly walk away from him. Her little shoulders seemed so stiff, like she was holding back tears.

             
Christ, he'd made her cry again hadn't he?