“And I’ll prove that I’m not like anyone from your past.”
The energy in the warehouse changes. Without turning, I know Trent’s standing behind me long before his deep voice asks, “This mean you’re done talking shit to my girl?”
“Not like you’ve never been a dick to her before,” Declan shoots back.
“You’re right. An’ I plan on doing everything in my power to make it up to her.” His hand moves up to cup the back of my neck, erupting delightful chills across my skin. “Now get your dirty paws off her.”
Declan throws me a genuine smile before shuffling away. Trent pulls me up against him, staring down at me with great adoration and indisputable need. There’s no stopping the massive smile that pulls at my lips when I imagine how this “date” of ours will go down. I fondle his erection over his pants, drawing a hiss from his lips.
“As much as I love you, Trent Risotto, it’s possible I’m even more in love with this monster. Can we get the hell out of here now so you can do your best to destroy me…like in the old days?”
He drops his head back, groaning. “Woman, you’re killing me. We have to stay and hash out Ryker’s offer.”
“I vote we go for it.” I lean into kiss his neck while applying more pressure over the thick denim material. “How ‘bout you?”
Another groan. “I had other plans for us—ones that didn’t include those knuckleheads.”
“It’d be great exposure for the band, babe.” My tongue flickers across his Adam’s Apple. “Besides, we can still fool around while on tour. We’ll use whatever change they throw at us to stay in crappy little hotel rooms of our own.” I grope the tip of his thick cock inside his jeans. “It’s the rock and roll way, right?”
“You kiddin’ me right now? Jerking me off with the crew twenty feet away isn’t going to influence my decision.”
“Hmmm…either way it’ll still be a win for me.”
Pinning my wrist in his massive grip, he fists the hair behind my head with his other hand. “Quit being a cocktease. Fuck knows I already won’t last long once I finally get to sink into you.”
For the hundredth time since leaving the hospital, my entire body warms. “Fine,” I huff playfully. “For the record, you’re the one being a cocktease.”
I pivot around, squealing when he jerks me back to him for a long, probing kiss. The world tilts as his powerful lips and demanding tongue have their way.
As I’m sinking against his warm chest, I decide I don’t care whether or not we go on the tour. With this ferocious man by my side, I’m ready for anything. He keeps the nightmares of Trask’s death at bay. He makes me feel more wanted than any woman on the planet. He knows when I need him, and when to let me be. And most of all, he fixed the parts of me that broke when I lost my brother—the same way I was able to fix him.
Trent’s my home, whether we’re living in the South Side or touring the world with the rest of my family. Whatever the future brings doesn’t matter, because I’ll always be his, and his heart will always be mine for safe keeping.
By the time our lips separate, I’m throbbing from head to toe.
“Now get your stubborn, sexy ass over there so we can get the hell outta here,” he growls, clutching my butt cheeks in his strong hands. His lips brush over my earlobe with a whisper of a kiss. “We’re using handcuffs tonight.”
I stumble away, blinded by how much he’s worked me up. He strikes my ass with the palm of his hand and I gasp. Bottom lip caught between my teeth, I glance back at him over my shoulder.
That gorgeous man’s stunning smile will get me through whatever future awaits.
* * *
TRENT
A damn eternity passes before we’re done talking with the guys, and on the road. Takes an assload of willpower not to pull the car over and finally have my way with Sasha now that she got the green light.
In all the time that’s passed without sex, we’ve begun to know each other on another level. She’s seen me at my best and worst, loved me just the same. Never let anyone else peel back the layers and see the real me. This woman has been my sole reason for existing since the moment she first perched behind those drums. Gonna do everything in my power to keep her around before she slips back out.
As soon as we pull into the northern part of the cemetery—Trask’s side—I’m finally able to focus on the moment rather than what I’m gonna do once she’s naked. We’ve come to visit our siblings’ final resting spots at least a dozen times together. Sometimes we chill by their headstones. Sometimes Sasha plays them music off her phone. Last week, I told Cali about the package that showed up on the front steps of Sasha’s precinct with a few of Bentley’s fingers inside.
Today, I have plans for a different kind of visit.
Sasha turns to me, one pretty little eyebrow raised, soft lips bent with a smirk. She wears the kind of girly shirt that Taya wouldn’t have been caught dead in—white with blue flowers, sleeves off her shoulders, tits completely covered. It’s fitting for Sasha though, and somehow sexier…brings out her beauty while showing off her tanned shoulders. She only flaunts her feminine side around me, and I fuckin’ love it. Love that she seems to understand she’s the most beautiful woman alive. Love that she dyed her hair back to its natural shade of dark brown, mimicking the color of her eyes.
Love everything about this woman. Both good and bad. Whether whole or broken.
I brush her long hair aside to reveal the words Vaughn inked on her collarbone: you made me yours. She said it’s a homage to the night we hooked up and I spewed lyrics at her, though I don’t fuckin’ remember.
“You’re taking me to see my brother?” she asks. “Not exactly how I pictured this night going down, but whatever.”
Chuckling, I pull her hand into my lap and give it a squeeze. Her fingertips sooth over my knuckles as I maneuver the car past rows of headstones to park in our usual spot. Sasha’s out ahead of me, wiping freshly-mowed grass off Trask’s marker before weeding out dead flowers from her last visit. The way she lovingly tends to her brother’s grave makes it easy to see her being a helluva good mom to our future rug-rats. Can’t hardly wait to give them the childhood we both wish we would’ve had.
Armed with a blanket and bottle of her favorite Prosecco, I join her. She spreads the flannel over the grass, then pulls me down to sit at her side, eyeing the bottle with a crooked smile. “This might be the most romantic thing you’ve done since we met, even if it is a little weird to toast the end of our sexual drought with my dead brother.”
Tearing the foil off the bottle, I grunt. “That’s not why we’re here.”
“Toasting to our future success on the road?”
“Not it either.” Beneath the pressure of my thumbs, the cork releases with a quiet pop. Not usually one to get nervous, the sudden tremble in my hands catches me off guard. I nearly spill the fruity-smelling drink everywhere. “Didn’t think to bring glasses,” I mutter.
“Babe.” Sasha’s thin fingers spread over mine. She waits until I’m completely transfixed by her seductive eyes. The same eyes that patiently waited for me to get my shit together over the past several months. The eyes that taught me the value of patience and kindness, and knowing what’s important in this fucked-up world. “What’s up? You look like you’re gonna hurl.”
I royally suck at this. Dry throat working overtime, I manage a hard swallow. “I want you—this—for as long as I’m breathing air. Never thought I’d find a good woman who gave a shit about me. Never thought I’d give a shit about one after Cali died, either. But you’re it, Sash. I used to think the world was a dark place that wasn’t worth my time. Then you came along. And you didn’t ask me to change. You took me for what I was—an ornery asshole with a long list of issues.”
She watches me with her head tilted, trying to read into what I’m saying. Fuck, this is so much harder than I thought. I take a swig…exhaling when the bubbles warm my chest. Maybe I should chug the whole damn thing. Sasha snags it
before I have a chance, wrapping her lips around the bottle, eyes still fixated on me.
Looking away, I extend my leg and dig around in my pocket. Ryker’s wife helped me pick out something simple that she figured Sasha would both like and be able to wear to work. Now the little band with only a few stones in her favorite shade of blue seems too plain—not nearly flashy enough for someone as stunning as my girl. She deserves nothing less than a diamond the size of her heart.
Once my fat fingers find the cool metal, I pull it out to show her the platinum band like some lame-ass moron. Her lips drop open, eyes fill with tears. My heart clenches.
She brings a hand up to her mouth. “Trent—”
“Not finished.” I grab her hand, intending to put the band on her finger.
With a soft giggle, she switches her hands out and sniffles. “This one.”
“Askin’ you to marry me feels trivial when we already live together, plus you owned my fuckin’ heart months ago. But I want to make it clear to every asshole out there that you’re mine. And since chicks seem to dig this kinda thing…thought maybe you’d appreciate it. Especially with your brother watchin’ over you.” I slip the ring into place and swallow hard again. “So what do you think? Suppose you could handle being married to me? We wouldn’t have to have a big ceremony. I guess unless you want—”
She tackles me, knocking me down on my ass. My balls draw upward, ready to destroy her. Sweet lips cover mine, hungry as ever. With her scent of vanilla surrounding us like a cloud, hands tangled in my hair, body rubbing in sync with mine, tongue thrashing through my mouth, I realize she’s fully accepting me and all my fucked-up parts. I cling to her, chest ready to burst while answering her every move.
Don’t know how long we’re tangled up in each other, making out under a cloudless blue sky like it’s our first time. I can’t stop thinking what a lucky bastard I am to have found someone like her. Can’t stop picturing her beautiful body swollen with my offspring.
Once we’ve toned it down, her fingers run up and down my jaw, warm brown eyes holding mine with more love than I’ve felt in a lifetime. I could sit here, hold her like this until the day I die. Makes it hard to agree to go on this tour, having to share her with the world even if her drumming’s too good to let it go to waste since she’s probably a better musician than the rest of us combined. I’d be an asshole to deny her the right to showcase her skills.
“I wanna become Mrs. Risotto as soon as humanly possible,” she whispers against my lips.
“We’ll get a license tomorrow when the courthouse opens.” Brushing my lips over hers, I slide my hand down her smooth belly, dipping a finger beneath her shorts and thong. She’s wet and ready. “That is if you can still walk by then.”
With a throaty moan, she coils her fingers around my wrist. “Take me home, baby.”
“Don’t have to ask twice.” I scoop her up into my arms and bend to grab the blanket. She lets out little noises of protest, laughing. It only makes me hold on a little tighter.
I know a good thing when I see it, and I’ll never let it go.
Thank you so much for reading UNDERCOVER ROCKSTAR! Catch the story of how Sasha’s brother and In Disarray got their start in OUTRAGEOUS (Rock Bottom #1).
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ALSO BY JENNIFER ANN
(NOW ON KINDLE UNLIMITED)
KENDALL FAMILY SERIES
Brooklyn Rockstar
Midwest Fighter
Manhattan Millionaire
Oceanside Marine
Kendall Family Christmas
Miami Bodyguard
American Farmer
ROCK BOTTOM (ROCKSTAR) SERIES
Outrageous
Notorious
Undercover Rockstar (spinoff coming Sept 2018)
STANDALONE ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
The Secrets Between Us
Broken Little Melodies
FALLEN HEROES DUET
Saving Phoebe
Saving Alexa
NYC LOVE SERIES
Adam’s List
Kelly’s Quest
Chloe’s Dream
PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIAL
Fifty Kinds of Dead
* * *
ON ALL RETAILERS
MC ROMANCE SERIALS
Inferno Glory MC (first installment FREE)
Jawa’s Angels MC
The South Side is like an incurable cancer, destroying the lives of everyone it touches.
For Brooke, the nightmare is over, and she uses her experience of survival to help those still living it.
Those like Liam.
He’s the smartest high schooler she’s ever met, and gets under her skin in the most delicious way.
She’s the bravest woman he knows, and he’s amazed she cares about his future and the fate of his band.
Their attraction is undeniable, but it’s also forbidden. She took an oath not to sleep with those she’s promised to protect.
But when the King of South Side tangles with Liam and his bandmates, she’s forced to make a choice.
One that could cost her everything.
ONE
LIAM
The chaos of the South Side is in full swing as I make my way to the band’s usual Sunday night jam session, bass in hand. Only two of us could make it out tonight, but it doesn’t matter. I would’ve gone alone because I need an escape. Music is the only therapy I can afford.
Despite being no more than 30 degrees out, homeless of all ages litter the busted up sidewalks, some propped up against piles of garbage bags, begging for another fix or a hot meal. Tents and cardboard homes line the alleys, their campfires creating an ominous glow against the tall buildings. Every few blocks there’s a car by the curb that’s been abandoned for months, long-since stripped down to the frame like skeletons. A few dealers lurk in the shadows, hoods drawn as they wait for a signal from an interested buyer.
Often there’ll be a horde of drunk college students curious about this part of the city who don’t have the street smarts to stay the hell away. As I cross the bar scene on Fifth Avenue, they’re nowhere to be seen. Instead it’s the usual mix of liars and thieves who are too poor to start over somewhere else, doing whatever it takes to survive.
Too many of the women openly attempting to hook up with guys outside the bars are inappropriately dressed for the weather. On closer inspection, there’s a fine line between junkies and hookers. Some are so high they left home in little more than their underwear, and some looking to get paid for sex couldn't string an intelligible sentence together if they tried.
Once you add grime and the smell of literal shit to the list of the South Side’s attributes, it’s understandable why it was once labeled by some pretentious magazine as the least desirable neighborhood in the nation. It’s too dangerous even for the likes of Minneapolis to claim us, and too poor for St. Paul to give two fucks that we exist. The governor and the rich assholes that support him with their high-end department stores and fancy universities would physically have us removed from their precious state if they could find a way.
Every last native to this area comes from a broken home. They thrive on crime and mayhem, not having experienced any other way of life. Drugs and violence have touched the lives of every single kid who grew up on these streets, my story being no exception. We don’t know the security of a traditional family, or what it’s like to come home to find dinner on the table. We’re accustomed to a rough hand and cruel tongue. It’s rare as fuck if your parents are actually married.
The only saving grac
e is that the neighborhood is run by Marshall “King Marty” Blackwood, my best friend’s uncle, making my crew untouchable by proxy. But even his protection has its pitfalls.
Before I’m able to sneak past the two prostitutes that have become a permanent fixture on the corner outside the abandoned building where we jam, the one who goes by “Candy” calls out to me. Tilting my face back to the dark sky, I flick my half-used cigarette to the sidewalk and start for her, smoke streaming from my nostrils. Any other day, I’d smoke ‘em right down to the filter. Since I came across the spot where my old man hides his cartons, however, I’ve been living large.
Aside from her rank smell, Candy’s mostly harmless so long as she isn’t so wasted she’s babbling about bed bugs or the government spying on us through technology. She’s not attractive by any means, but that’s an industry standard when you’re working the corners on the South Side. Most times she’s more akin to a motherly figure, asking if I’m getting enough to eat, or why I’m out on the streets alone. Chunks rise in my throat when she adjusts her ill-fitting bra, revealing a dark tit. In moments like this, I’m convinced she’s hoping to entice me to fuck her. As many years as she’s been working the streets, letting every dirtbag on the South Side stick it to her, I wouldn’t touch her with someone else’s dick.
Her obnoxiously long, bubble gum pink fingernails wave through the night sky. “Rook, baby, get over here! I wanna get a good look at you!”
Undercover Rockstar: A Bad Girls novel Page 16