Rockstar Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle New Adult BBW)

by Emme Rollins

  As I gradually came back to earth and pushed myself upright again with legs that had no strength left, he rose to kiss me. The taste of my sweet nectar was delicious and, ready to please me further, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed in the dimly lit centre of the room. As he placed me down on soft cotton sheets, I looked up at the vision of beauty before me. His body looked like it had been carved from marble, swoops and curves accentuated in the dim light. His muscles were hard and toned, impossibly sexy. He was built like an athlete, not some pumped up bodybuilder, and every inch of definition was a sign of genuine strength and stamina. I wanted his delicious body on me and in me and I wasn't prepared to wait any longer. I kicked off my heels and spread my legs wide, lifting my arms above my head and resting them on the pillow beneath where my flame red hair cascaded.

  "Fuck me," I gasped, barely able to believe the words were coming out of my mouth. Yet I couldn't stop them. My desire had reached its absolute peak, like a river overflowing after attempting to contain the tide until that point. I was no longer saying the words – they were simply falling from my lips involuntarily. "Please fuck me."

  My exquisite torture was at an end. Without a further word, Rick slid the full length of his cock into me, my soaking pussy effortlessly parting and easing his entrance. Still, I gasped at the sheer size and length that penetrated me. I felt my inner walls stretch around his shaft, his long thrusts delivering inch after divine inch of pleasure into my body.

  He lowered himself down onto me, gently and considerately without applying his weight, his strong arms holding him up at each side and giving me a place to hold onto him. I gripped his rippling biceps as each stroke retreated almost fully back to my entrance and then drove deep inside my abdomen again.

  "You're so tight, Amy," he said as he looked into my eyes. "So wet and so amazingly tight. You're so fucking sexy."

  A rush of juices between my legs drowned his immense shaft as my moans began to increase in frequency and volume. I had never felt someone so deeply inside me before, so deep I could feel him in my stomach. This was more than just sex, more than just a naughty fuck with some red-haired journalist he'd taken a shine to. His strokes were long, hard and unbelievably satisfying. He was making love to me, and I to him.

  I felt his cock begin to twitch, knowing he would come soon. His pace quickened, his thrusts now entering me with increasing strength and speed. Muscles rippled everywhere as he moved and his body became like a piston, driving stroke after rockhard stroke into me. I felt that familiar knot in the pit of my stomach again, and I braced myself for what I knew would be a devastating orgasm. At the moment he came, so did I; his warm, creamy liquid pumping inside me and mixing with my own juices in a delicious cocktail. I wrapped my body around his, holding onto him for dear life as my mouth formed a silent scream. My orgasm tore through my body, sending me into blackness momentarily. I had never come so hard or with such complete and utter satisfaction before.

  Sounds became muffled and vision blurred as I slowly descended back to reality. His kisses brought me back to life, each delicate touch of his lips on mine reminding me that ecstasy was more than just a feeling – it was a real place, a moment with a real man. This man.

  "Holy shit," I laughed. "That was amazing. How the hell do we follow that?"

  He ran a finger softly down my cheek. "By doing it again and again and again. I want to make love to you all night, Amy. Then, in the morning, we'll bathe together and I'll bring you your breakfast so you can sit up in bed while looking out at the sun slowly rising over the mountains in the distance."

  As tears welled up in my eyes, all I could think to do was kiss him. This object of desire, this millionaire rock star, this unattainable icon was far more than any newspaper or magazine could ever portray. He was mesmerising me with his body and mind, this beautiful man, and at that moment there was nowhere else I wanted to be than with him.

  Chapter Six

  "Where the fuck have you been?"

  I stood, motionless, as I stared at the stack of tabloid newspapers my editor had thrown down on the desk in front of me. He leaned back in his chair and stared at me as I tried to form a coherent sentence.

  "I… I…"

  "Forget it, Amy. I don't want to know. Sincerely, I don't. All I do know is that we've been trying to get hold of you all weekend and you clearly been off getting loved up with an international superstar. It's a miracle you haven't been papped all the way here. Then again, you probably have since you seem so oblivious to everything."

  Page after page of colour photographs pictured Rick and I leaving the restaurant on Friday night. Damn it, I thought. How stupid had I been? How naive to think I couldn't possibly be photographed with one of the biggest stars in the world in the centre of London.

  "I'm sorry, Jim, I didn't think…"

  He slammed his fist down on the desk, causing me to jump. "Damn right you didn't think! Look at these headlines, for Christ's sake. How the hell are we supposed to be taken seriously as the only remaining quality music magazine in the UK when our journalists are screwing the talent?"

  He held up a copy of The Sun, the biggest selling newspaper in the country. "BORRELL'S BUSTY BOMBSHELL" the headline read in typical tabloid style. Bizarrely, I found myself smiling a little at the description of me. Jim pulled it away and began to read the story out loud.

  "Beautiful Losers front man Rick Borrell stepped out on the town on Friday night with a mystery redhead. The two were seen smooching and cuddling as they left a private restaurant in the trendy Knightsbridge area of London. Rick, 30, has been in the UK to finish recording his reported solo album amidst ongoing rumours of a rift with his multi-million selling band. A source close to the singer said: 'Rick seemed really smitten with the sexy woman who accompanied him. Sporting flame-red hair and dangerous curves, it seems the millionaire rock star is looking more for the Christina Hendricks-type than the stick thin supermodels he's been out with in the past.'"

  Jim threw the paper across the room, sending the loose pages flying everywhere.

  "And what the fuck are you smiling about, Amy? What have you got to be pleased with?"

  My initial shock was turning to anger. Who the hell was this guy to tell me how to live my life, anyway? "I'm just pleased to be compared to Christina Hendricks for the second time in a few days. Maybe you should be treating your 'busty bombshell' reporter with a bit more respect."

  I stood defiantly as Jim rose from his seat. "Oh, really? Well you'll be thrilled to know that your little boyfriend is going to be all over our sister paper in a day's time. It seems there's an important part of his life that he didn't see fit to tell you about while you were rolling around in the sack."

  "Firstly, my sex life is none of your fucking business," I spat. "And secondly, I don't care what is written about me."

  He burst out laughing. "You think the next story is about you? Well, my potty-mouthed Veronica Guerin, I'm sorry to burst your bubble. Rick Borrell is about to be splashed all over the news for being a shitbag father."

  My eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "He has a five-year-old son, sweetheart. Did he forget to mention it when his cock was inside you?"

  I picked up a mug of coffee from his desk and threw it over him. "Before you even think about firing me, save your breath. I quit!"

  "Get your overrated ass out of here!" he sputtered.

  I spun around and gave him the finger with both hands. "These yours?"

  I tried to resist breaking out in the biggest smile I had ever had as the sparks flew from my heels as I stormed out. The entire office applauded me. If I was going to be on the front page of newspapers as some fiery redhead, then I may as well live up to the image. One thing was for certain – my life was never going to be the same again. I didn't think for one second about the revelation that Rick had a son – all I wanted to do was warn him.

  "I did it," I said as Rick's face appeared on the laptop in front of
me. "I quit."

  "That's fantastic," he smiled, sipping at a cup of coffee.

  "Not quite. Rick, there's about to be a shitstorm about you in the press. Why didn't you tell me you had a son?"

  Suddenly, Rick's face dropped. "Oh."

  "Exactly. Don't worry, I wanted nothing to do with the story. But it's going to run tomorrow."

  Rick sighed. "I was going to tell you, I just hadn't got around to it. Like I mentioned the other night, there's a lot I've done in my life in a short period of time – not all of it good. But my little boy isn't one of those things. He's wonderful."

  "So why keep him a secret?"

  "Because I was young and stupid and his mother is a good person who has a life of her own now. She's married and has another kid with her husband. I try to see Luke when I can, but…"

  I smiled. "Is that his name? Luke?"

  "Yes," Rick nodded warmly. "You know, you only truly appreciate privacy when you haven't had any. My life is played out in public without my consent, so I do what I can to protect him. The world didn't need to know he's my son. I know, he knows and his mother and stepfather know. That's all that matters. I do what I can, but my life is crazy and theirs is perfect. Sometimes you have to sacrifice what you love to do the right thing."

  "Well, the world is going to know either way in the next 24 hours. There's nothing we can do to stop that. But I have an idea… Now is our chance to put me to the test. You'll have to trust me."

  "You're so sexy when you're feisty. What are you planning?"

  "I need your Twitter and Facebook details. Can you email them over?"

  Rick started tapping at the keyboard in front of him. "Sending them now."

  "Great. You get in touch with Luke's mother and let her know what's happening. Let's beat these bastards to the punch."

  Chapter Seven

  To my fans...papers will reveal I have a son tomorrow. Please respect his privacy unlike the media. I’m the proudest dad on Earth!

  Rick’s Twitter account went ballistic the next day with outpourings of support. I had timed his tweets and Facebook updates to hit the night before the newspaper story and to render the headline petty and offensive. They hadn’t pulled any punches. A long-range shot of Luke was accompanied by a damning headline: “ROCKSTAR’S ABANDONED SON - CRUEL TRUTH OF SELFISH BORRELL”.

  Luckily, my gamble had worked. The "exclusive" had been revealed by us long before the newspapers hit the stands and the reaction on social media demonstrated the gulf between an old model of reporting and the savvy way the public was able to discern right from wrong when interacting with their idols.

  Rick and I spent most of the next day responding to wave after wave of positive comments.

  Go Rick! Press intrusion into a five-year-old's life is disgusting. Hope they are proud of themselves.

  Luke's lucky to have an awesome dad like you. Don't let the bastards get you down! #pressintrusion

  Does the media never learn? You've handled this with class and dignity. Your son can be proud!

  "You do realise, of course, that everybody loves you now."

  Rick kissed my shoulder as we snuggled in bed. He put the laptop to one side and stroked my cheek. "Well, that's blown it. I spend all these years cultivating this image and you screw it up in one fell swoop. Still, should be good for album sales. I'll get all the soccer moms now."

  "Exactly. Every cloud and all that." I kissed his lips and felt the hard muscles of his warm body press into me as he held me close. "Can I meet your son one day?"

  "Of course you can. He'd love that. I have to show him the busty redhead bombshell all the papers are talking about, don't I?"

  "Damn right."

  Rick sighed and turned serious for a moment. "Thank you, Amy. I mean that."

  "My pleasure. Thank you for a whirlwind few days. Whether I like it or not, I'll be finding a new job now – and I'm not sure that's a bad thing."

  "Hold that thought. You know what you're doing with social media and you still have lots of contacts in the press, right?"

  I nodded.

  "Okay. So how about being more than just my busty redhead bombshell girlfriend? How about being my busty redhead bombshell girlfriend press officer?"

  I sat up and looked at him incredulously. "Are you serious?"

  "Absolutely. I will warn you, the pay is shit. Only a couple of hundred thousand a year. Should be enough to pay that electric bill...and sort your parents out."

  My jaw dropped. "Is this for real?"

  "Don't get too enamoured with me. It's tax-deductible. Gotta get that bill down, remember?"

  I slapped him on the shoulder playfully. "What was it Daffy Duck used to say in the Looney Tunes cartoons? 'You're despicable.'"

  "If you say so. But I have this theory, you see. I'm a man and you're a woman. We both like each other very, very much and it's obvious that may eventually turn to something else, if we give it time."

  I kissed him softly on the lips and ran a finger down his toned abdomen. "Well, anything is possible…"

  "Exactly. So how about we just say 'screw it'? Let's give this thing a try. It's time I started surrounded myself with people in my life who actually give a shit about me. And, from a less selfish point of view, it's time I gave a little more of myself to somebody else. Why be alone when we can be together?"

  "So what are you proposing?"

  "You're funny, sexy, beautiful and smart. And those are just your bad points. I want you in my life and on my team. Are you ready to take that leap of faith we talked about with me?" He held up his little finger and I hooked mine around it.

  "I am. And I'll never let you down. Pinky promise. That's a huge jump, though. It's a long way down."

  "True," he nodded. "But it's the only way you can learn to fly."

  As we both sank into each other's arms, our lips and bodies entwined, we were ready to take on the world – and whatever it threw at us.

  ####

  RUN TO YOU

  Curves for the Rock Star 2

  By Clare Cole

  Chapter One

  "I can't go to the Grammy Awards like this."

  I stood with my arms folded, looking into the full-length mirror across from me in the suite of the Beverly Hilton Hotel. My breasts were practically spilling out of the top of my dress, pushed up by my underwear beneath to form two alluring round peaks that may well have kept Rick happy all night but left nothing to the imagination.

  "Why?" Rick said, peering his head around the corner of the room and moving a toothbrush around his mouth. "I think you look sexy, baby."

  I rolled my eyes. "Because, Rick, of these," I replied, pointing two fingers at my heaving cleavage. "Can you imagine the headlines if I go out like this? 'Rick gets the Grammy – and two Golden Globes.'"

  "That's funny," he snorted, heading back into the bathroom.

  I let out a sigh and grabbed my smartphone. I shot off the text to Anita, my stylist, asking if my beautiful but slightly ill-fitting Marchesa dress could be altered. As I hit 'Send', I smiled to myself. Even now, just over 6 months into our relationship, I still couldn't believe this was happening – that this was my world.

  I was dating a rock star. Hell, it was much more than that. I was in love with a rock star. I'd gone from not being able to afford to keep my gas and electric on in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in London to zipping around the world at the drop of a hat in a private jet with one of the most recognisable men on the planet. We had managed to keep our relationship reasonably under wraps; Rick was fierce about maintaining his privacy and mine. But that can only happen for so long when you're as famous as Rick Borrell.

  His solo album had been a huge hit, spawning three top 10 hit singles in the US alone and charting in over 100 countries. Rick had decided not to tour with this album – this was, after all, the thing that would get him off the treadmill of spending life on the road. He'd had enough of that with his band, Beautiful Losers, and decided that he wanted to not only slow down t
hings for himself a little but to also give our relationship time to breathe and to grow.

  Boy, did I love him for that.

  If that wasn't enough, one of the tracks on the album had been used as the theme song for a major new television show – one of those police procedural dramas full of dead bodies, lots of fake blood and gruesome autopsies. I was so proud the first time we switched it on to hear his track over the opening credits – but, like all those shows, I couldn't watch any more. Well, what's the point with a cushion in front of your face? I still got queasy at things like that. My life had become unrecognisable from where it had been half a year ago, but some things never change.

  "How do I look?"

  I turned to see Rick in an awesome vintage Hugo Boss suit. He looked every inch the swaggering, super-confident rock star and it was fantastic to see him in something other than faded jeans or a leather jacket for once.

  "Good enough to eat," I smiled, looking him up and down. I unzipped the back of my soon-to-be-adjusted dress and let it drop to the floor.

  "Wow," Rick gasped, holding his palms up. "Haven't we got hair and make-up people coming up in the next fifteen minutes?"

  "Hold your horses, cowboy," I laughed, grabbing a dressing gown. "As much as I'd love to get you out of that suit and into my panties, we haven't got time. Besides, there's always later."

  "Amy, something tells me we're both going to be absolutely wrecked once we've been to the aftershow party. Even incredibly charismatic and modest international superstars need to crash once in awhile, you know."

  I walked over to him and kissed his beautiful, soft, full lips. The scent of Davidoff aftershave sent a little tingle down my spine. "Who said anything about when we get back?" I grinned. "There are plenty of dark nooks and crannies in the Staples Center, aren't there?"