ROCK F*CK CLUB (Girls Ranking the Rock Stars Book 6)

by Michelle Mankin

  Suddenly, Gale’s phone rang over the Bluetooth, and he clicked over to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Lafleur?” a woman’s voice said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m just calling to inform you that your suite is ready, prepared just as you requested. If you’ll pull into the VIP lane when you arrive, a representative will meet you and escort you to the private elevator for your floor.”

  Our own private elevator and floor? Holy shit!

  “Thank you.”

  “Enjoy your stay at the Wynn. If there is anything additional you require, don’t hesitate to ask. We hope the next time you’re in the area, you’ll have more time to check out the many amenities we have to offer.”

  A double beep sounded over the headset speakers as she hung up.

  “Gale,” I said into the silence, swallowing to moisten my dry throat. “A suite sounds extravagant.”

  “It is. That’s an excellent word choice. You deserve indulgence.”

  I wasn’t so sure. “I’m already yours. You don’t need to impress me.” When I felt his abs tighten where my hands were laced together at his waist, I rushed to explain. “What I mean is that I’m already impressed by you. Your love and understanding are an indulgence. I don’t need anything else.”

  “Thank you, Jo. I feel the same way about you. However, being the lead singer of Anthem affords me some perks I want to share with you. This is one of them. I think you’ll enjoy it. We both will. Can you indulge me?”

  “Yes, of course I can.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and turned us into the VIP lane at a curved high-rise hotel with glass windows so shiny, they reflected the clouds.

  Heads turned in the busy multi-lane drop-off area when we entered it, not because of the beast of a bike, in my opinion, but because of the handsome guy steering the impressive machine. I empathized with the fascination. If I weren’t on the bike with him, I would have been following him with my eyes too.

  When we reached the end of the lane, no one was ahead of us, and the hotel valet in a white shirt and black pants came hurrying to greet us.

  Gale lifted his chin to acknowledge the eager employee and put his boots down on the pavement. Glancing at me over his shoulder, he said, “Go ahead and get off, Jo.”

  “Okay.” I liked the dismounting procedure almost as much as the getting-on one. Both were excuses for long, exploratory touches.

  Leaning into Gale, I smoothed my palms across his wide shoulders before putting my foot on the peg to dismount. He gripped the handlebars and dismounted after me. My eyes glazed over, and I stalled in the process of taking off my own helmet to watch him remove his.

  The way he shook out his mane of brown hair reminded me of a shampoo commercial, only in slower motion. He rolled his wide shoulders, flexing many of those same muscle groups he had when doing his push-ups. My heart rate kicking up, I let out a sigh.

  “Need some help with your helmet?” he asked, giving me an expectant look.

  “No, I can do it.” Yet with my palms sweaty, I fumbled with the chin strap.

  “If you’re sure.” He watched me with an amused half grin.

  “I’m sure.”

  When I finally pulled off my helmet, I did a head toss of my own. But with my long hair in braids, mine wasn’t as effective as his, so I added an arch of my spine to push out my tits. Gale’s gaze flashed with interest.

  “Shouldn’t you, um,” I wet my lips, “give the key and what-not to the valet?” I pointed at the hotel employee with my chin.

  “Yeah. Right.” Gale glanced toward the entrance. “While I square this away, why don’t you go inside and wait for me?”

  “I’m okay here.” Which meant I was more comfortable in my jeans and biker boots outside with him than I would feel alone inside an unfamiliar, obviously fancy hotel.

  “It’s cooler inside.” His brows drew together.

  “I can get cooler here.” I grabbed the hem of his hoodie I was wearing and removed it. As my cropped Iggy Pop top settled around my tits, I noticed Gale’s focus dip.

  “That might work for you.” Clearing his throat, he lifted his gaze. His slow, sensual grin made my stomach and another part of me clench. “But now I’m suddenly too hot out here. They usually have chilled water in the lobby. Grab me one, and I’ll join you in just a moment.”

  I nodded, dug deep for my rocker attitude, and marched into the building, my head held high and my silver boot buckles jangling. As I expected, I received more than a few disdainful stares from people dressed a lot nicer than me.

  Fuck ’em. I tossed a braid over my shoulder, cranked my chin higher, and veered toward a refreshment setup at one side of the lobby. As I filled two plastic cups with the fruit-infused chilled water, my skin suddenly prickled, and not in a good way.

  Turning, I scanned my surroundings. In lockup, I’d learned the hard way not to ignore it when I felt like I was being watched.

  A middle-aged man with jet-black hair near the registration desk lifted his cup of half-filled water as if he were toasting me. Creeped out, I turned away, but my skin continued to crawl.

  “Hey,” Gale said, and I turned to face him. He must have entered the hotel while I’d been focused on my creeper. “You okay?” He took the glass I offered him while searching my eyes.

  “Yeah, I guess so, only—”

  “Gale Lafleur,” an unfamiliar male voice said. “Is that really you, my boy?”

  “Samuel,” Gale said before he turned. Apparently, the voice was familiar to him.

  Samuel was the creeper, and he continued to stare at me, his faded grayish-green gaze lingering on my tits in an overly familiar way that nauseated me.

  “What are you doing here?” Gale asked as he pulled me into his side.

  “One of my artists has an internship at the Wynn.” Samuel’s gaze dipped to Gale’s hand on my arm.

  “Oh, makes sense, I guess.”

  “She’s a little more than just an employee,” Samuel said in an insinuating tone before turning his attention to me. “Who’s your companion?”

  “Samuel Lesowski.” Gale’s voice was clipped. “This is Josephine Poet.”

  Once I had the man’s last name, I made the connection. This was the head of Gale’s record label, his soon-to-be former label. Now I understood why Gale’s tension matched mine.

  “The Rock Fuck Club girl. The one causing the stir between you and me.” His brows drawn together, Samuel glanced down the length of his nose at me. “Passible. She does seem to have a rather blatant sexual . . . charm.” He returned his attention to Gale, continuing his conversation as if I were a thing, not a person. “Good exposure, you appearing on the RFC after your overly long hiatus.”

  “Marketing had nothing to do with it.” Gale’s gaze hardened to steel.

  “Nice guy turns experimental to mend his broken heart. It’s a good angle.” Samuel shook his head. “But she’s not the type of woman you keep around or bring to a place like this.”

  “There is no angle. She belongs with me.” Gale leaned in, his eyes flaring and his shoulders squared. “I’m in love with her.”

  “Oh, really? After only one taste?” One of Samuel’s brows inched up. “Her pussy must really be something.”

  “You fucking prick!” Gale grabbed Samuel by the lapels of his suit.

  Inexplicably, the executive didn’t attempt to defend himself and only grinned.

  “Don’t, Gale,” I whispered urgently, tugging on his arm. I didn’t want him getting slapped with a lawsuit because of me. “He’s not worth the trouble.”

  “Don’t you ever disrespect Jo again.” Gale released Samuel with a shove just as two men appeared, two colossally large men in dark suits and wearing mirrored sunglasses. Their expressions forbidding, they moved into position on either side of Samuel.

  “Is everything okay, Mr. Lesowski?” the slightly taller colossus asked, his hand inching inside his unbuttoned jacket.

  “Eve
rything’s fine, Mr. Parker. Stand down. I was only having a word with a client of mine. A cautionary word Mr. Lafleur would be wise to heed if he values his career.”

  “I do value my career.” Gale expression darkened. “That’s why Anthem is shopping for a new label.”

  “We’ll see about that. I do believe we have a contract. In the meantime . . .” Samuel’s gaze flicked briefly to me. “If I were you, I would think more carefully about my choices.”

  Gale made a scoffing sound as Samuel turned away.

  “My lawyer will be in touch with yours,” Samuel said smugly. “Good day.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said softly, dropping my hand from Gale’s arm.

  “Don’t you dare apologize.” He turned toward me, his eyes as dark as storm clouds. “The man’s an asshole. We were dazzled by numbers, marketing reach, and shit back when we signed with him. But we should have known better.”

  I nodded. “Having met him, I would have to agree. But I still feel bad. I talked you into doing the RFC. You wouldn’t have done it if not for me,” I said with a sigh.

  “Mr. Lafleur.” A hotel employee with a VIP badge on her dark blazer approached us. “Your room is ready. I have your key. If you come with me, I’ll escort you to the elevator.”

  Nodding once, Gale threw his arm around me. “Lead the way.”

  “Yes, sir.” She spun and strode away, her pumps clicking on the shiny marble floors.

  Gale placed his hand on my lower back, guiding me. Glancing at him, I saw that his jaw remained tight. My stomach certainly remained knotted. Samuel Lesowski had a high ick factor.

  “It’s a pretty hotel,” I said as we followed the woman, wanting to get his mind and mine on something else.

  “It is. One of my favorites in Vegas.” He gave me a long glance. “I’ll bet you’re glad to be on unmoving ground.”

  “I am, but I enjoy riding with you.” My eyes shimmered with the truth. “Us together on the open road, it’s intimate and exhilarating. But I’m glad for a break. I’m not a seasoned long-distance rider like you.”

  “We’ll get you there.”

  He’d been referring to us as we a lot lately, and I knew the there he referred to meant more than just me becoming an accomplished biker. A future for us and my faith in his vision were his goals, and when Gale put his mind on something, he was difficult to deter.

  “The journey’s as important as the destination because of what we learn along the way. Right?”

  “I agree,” I said, stubbornly avoided couple references. “It was an enjoyable day.”

  “You can do better than merely enjoyable.” His quicksilver eyes turning languid, he gave me a long look.

  Now this was interesting. “How do you suppose?” I peered up at him through my lashes.

  “When I have you in my arms, it’s better than enjoyable.” He stopped and drew me close, his hard chest to my tits, making them swell. “When the whole world is just us, it’s better. I hope you realize I won’t surrender that, and that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect it.”

  “Gale.” Tears stinging my eyes, I blinked rapidly. Trying to focus was difficult to do when I was fighting emotion and the hum of my body from his touch.

  “The stuff Lesowski spouted is bullshit. All that matters to me is you.” His gaze dropped to my mouth.

  “And all that matters to me is you,” I said. “That’s why I care so much about how your being with me might affect you.”

  As we began moving again, trying to catch up to our guide, I was conscious of the crowds of people around us. Slot machines might be tastefully arranged along the periphery of the large space we’d entered, but they were visible amid the fancier trappings. Just like the problems for Gale and me existed, even if we tried to pretend they didn’t.

  He suddenly pulled me into an alcove between two sculpted columns. “I need to taste you. Remind you how it is.”

  He lowered his head, his warm breath dampening my lips, and my heart rate kicked up in anticipation. I closed my eyes, moaning when his perfect lips touched mine. His growled reply echoed in deeper Gale-only zones as his tongue penetrated my mouth, and he kissed me deeper and harder. His firm lips were a brand. He was marking me as his. But I already bore his mark irrevocably on my soul.

  “Gale! Gale Lafleur!”

  A high-pitched scream pierced the air, clearing my daze and breaking Gale’s concentration. He lifted his head, and I turned mine in the same direction. My eyes widened as I saw a group of women moving toward us at a fast clip.

  “Get behind me, Jo!” he shouted, positioning his body in front of mine as the wave broke over us.

  They all had drinks in their hands and unfocused gazes, but the woman who seemed to be leading the charge wore a rhinestone tiara with a white veil. Cell cameras flashed among her inebriated posse, and their excited chittering raised chill bumps on my skin as they crowded us, hemming us in.

  “No autographs.” His expression firm, Gale shook his head as pens and pieces of paper were waved at him.

  “Back, move back,” a gruff, authoritative voice boomed.

  Over the heads of the throng, I saw a man wearing a blue blazer who looked like Dwayne Johnson and acted just as intimidating.

  “Mr. Lafleur is a private guest,” he told the women. “Step aside.”

  Glancing at the man nervously and giving his wide shoulders and tree-trunk legs a wide berth, the ladies drew back.

  “Thank you,” Gale told our rescuer as he reached us.

  “No worries, Mr. Lafleur,” he said, then turned his head to give a few remaining stragglers a withering glance. After they withdrew, he returned his full attention to us. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll return you to your private concierge.”

  “You okay?” Gale asked me as we fell into step behind our new escort.

  “Fine. You?” I swept my gaze over him.

  “Hell yeah.” He gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry about that.”

  “Guess your beard doesn’t work as a disguise in a place where people are looking for celebrities.” I gave him a smile.

  “Not when it comes to a runaway bachelorette party, apparently.” His lips curving, he slid his arm more firmly around my shoulders.

  With our new escort, no one approached us. We passed beneath arbors of colorful glass sculptures and skirted around a flower-emblazoned merry-go-round before we reached a bank of elevators marked private. Our security guard gestured to the concierge we’d lost during the encounter with Gale’s fans.

  “Thank you, George,” she said.

  Smiling at her, George nodded to us and backed away. She swiped a keycard across a panel on the wall beside the elevator. The metal door in front of us immediately slid open.

  “Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Lafleur.” Our concierge gestured to the empty elevator car, and we stepped inside.

  She handed Gale a small paper folder with the hotel name embossed on it. “Should you need to go out again. I would suggest—”

  “We’re staying in,” Gale said quickly.

  “Good plan, sir.” Looking relieved, she gave Gale a respectful nod.

  When the door closed, I sagged into Gale. “Holy shit. What the hell just happened?”

  Gale frowned, staring at the floor. “Something I should have anticipated.”

  “How could you anticipate that?” I shook my head in disbelief.

  His brow creased as he looked up. “I should’ve used the private entrance. That’s what the band did during the last tour.”

  “It’s okay.” I turned to him and lifted my hands to frame his handsome face. “You may be a rock god, but you’re not all-knowing.”

  “Thank you for giving me a pass.” His lips’ curve deepened within his mustache. “Don’t ever tell Art what happened. He would never let it rest.”

  “Almost trampled to death by a bridezilla and crew.” My smile widening, I slid my hands around his neck, linking my fingers together. “Yeah, he would definitely get a lot
of mileage out of that one.”

  “Expect the unexpected in Vegas, I guess.” His gaze searching, Gale banded his strong arms around my waist. “Glad you weren’t too freaked out, babe.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  In my mind, the scene with the bride-to-be and her crew faded in comparison to the run-in with Samuel. My tension from problems that wouldn’t go away returned as the numbers on the control panel rose. Maybe it was only projection on my part, but it seemed that Gale’s hold on me tightened as if his tension rose too.

  Secluded at Morris’s estate. On the road today. Alone in the desert and away from prying eyes. Those places, it could be just the two of us.

  But the encounter with Gale’s fans and Samuel Lesowski were reminders that the world outside the two of us existed. Ignoring it didn’t make it go away. Isolation wasn’t a sustainable reality. Were there any scenarios where we could remain together, and my past wouldn’t hurt him?

  “Here we are,” Gale said as the elevator dinged our arrival, and the door slowly slid open. The sleek gold and warm cream interior it revealed wavered amid the uncertainty clouding my eyes.

  We were here. At an end of the beginning of our trip together, and no acceptable way forward for us that I could yet see.

  Josephine

  WE STEPPED OFF THE elevator into an elegantly wallpapered entryway. Gale turned right, and I followed, hurrying to keep pace with his longer strides as he crossed a wide hall. Stepping between two ten-foot-tall open doors, he entered a large room and gestured.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  The weight of his expectation palpable, I turned to take it all in.

  The living-dining room combination was more stunningly appointed than any I’d ever seen. A glossy mahogany dining table was at the far end of the room. At the center, a cream-and-gold patterned seating group was arranged with two upholstered couches facing each other, and two striped armchairs. A sophisticated chandelier hung from the high ceiling, casting a warm glow.