Radical Rock Stars: Book 7
JENNA GALICKI
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Credits and Copyright
Synopsis
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Other Books By the Author
Radical Rock Stars Next Generation
Sample: Lucas Blade, Radical Rock Stars Next Generation Duet Book 1
Sample: Mason Wilder, Radical Rock Stars Next Generation Duet Book 2
About the Author
Credits:
Photo: Darren Birks Photography
Models: Darren Birks and Sarah Veillette
Cover Designer: Chloe Belle Arts
Copyright and Disclaimer:
Copyright © 2020 by Jenna Galicki, All Rights Reserved
This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or yet to be born, is purely coincidental and entirely unintentional.
The book is for mature audiences only.
Synopsis:
This isn’t an angsty, tear-your-heart-out, ugly-cry romance. This is a love story.
Kira Abelman forgot what it was like to have fun. She spent her teens at the front of the stage cheering for Immortal Angel at every show. Her life had been filled with excitement and adrenaline. Now, as A&R rep for her father’s record company, she’s overworked, overtired and spread thin.
Thirty days on tour with a sexy, bearded and tattooed roadie is exactly what she needs in order to light up her boring life with passion. It’s supposed to be a no-strings-attached good time, but it turns into so much more. She knew their time together had an expiration date, but she isn’t ready to say goodbye.
With 3,000 miles between them and careers that send them in different directions, can Kira finally get her happily ever after and prove that fairy tales do come true?
This book can be read as a stand-alone novel.
Finding a parking space in front of Starbucks while battling downtown Chicago traffic seemed too good to be true. Kira Abelman had left the hotel 15 minutes early in order to get to the recording studio on time, but now it looked as if she was going to be late, thanks to some jerk who was holding up the line at the coffeehouse with his hundred-dollar bill.
“Just take the money,” the guy barked at the cashier. “It’s real. I drive a BMW. I don’t need to hand out fake hundred-dollar bills.”
Kira almost laughed at his arrogance, as if driving a BMW meant he was rich. People around her sighed and grunted, expressing their displeasure at the delay in getting their morning fix of caffeine.
“Sorry.” The cashier tapped the sign taped to the register. “No bills larger than a twenty.”
“Ridiculous!” Mr. BMW snorted. “Just take the hundred.”
“Sorry. If you don’t have another means of payment, I can’t serve you.”
While the two argued, a guy from the back of the line weaved his way to the counter. “Here.” He handed the cashier $10.00. “Pay for his coffee out of this and keep the change.”
Without bothering to say thank you, the arrogant asshole moved to the end of the counter to wait for his order.
The next girl in line approached the register and eyed the cool-looking guy that paid for the coffee with interest. “That was really nice of you. It’s not often you see someone show such kindness during the morning hustle.”
The guy turned and flashed a smile at the girl, and Kira’s jaw fell open. Not only was he generous, he was sexy as hell. He was well over six feet, and a thick dark beard covered his jaw. His powerful arms were inked in black and gray tattoos, and his broad chest formed a perfect arc. He commanded the room with his masculinity. What caught Kira’s attention most were his intense dark-as-coal eyes.
He smiled wider at the girl. “That’s because I’m from the West Coast. The sunshine makes us a little happier. Have a good day.”
A California boy, no doubt, he stuck out with his smiling morning face in a room full of pre-coffee grumpiness.
As he returned to the back of the line, Kira raked her eyes up and down his body. Tight jeans hugged his ass, and his arms held an array of curved muscles that extended up and over his shoulders.
Another commotion at the end of the counter drew everyone’s attention. Mr. BMW was having another meltdown because the barista got his order wrong. Some people are never happy. At least it was Kira’s turn to be served. She paid for her coffee, dropped two bucks in the tip jar, and headed for the milk and sugar station. Halfway there, Mr. BMW ran into her and knocked the coffee cup out of her hand, leaving a wet trail down the front of her top. She gasped as the hot beverage nearly scalded her, and she lashed out at the jerk who just stood there gawking at her. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
“I was walking in a straight line. You cut me off.”
“Are you serious? You were running through the place like it was on fire.” She glanced down at the wet stain. “Look at me!”
The jerk didn’t bother to respond and headed for the door, but the West Coast dude who paid for the coffee blocked the exit. “Apologize to the lady,” he demanded.
Kira was flabbergasted at his chivalry, but she didn’t want him to get into an altercation on her account. “It’s OK. He’s just a jerk.”
“That doesn’t mean he gets a free pass. That’s no way to talk to a lady.”
The jerk with the BMW snickered openly. “Who says she’s a lady? Now, get the fuck outta my way so I can leave.”
The West Coast guy narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, filling the width of the doorway with his broad shoulders. “You’re not going anywhere until you apologize to the lady. For the coffee and for the rude remark.”
Mr. BMW rolled his eyes and tried to push past the West Coast dude, which was the wrong thing to do, because now the guy looked really angry. The two ended up in a shoving match which ended with Mr. BMW pinned against the wall. “Fine. I’m sorry,” he yelled. “Now let me fucking go!”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Tell the lady. And say it like you mean it.”
“OK! OK!” The guy cringed, then turned to look at Kira. “I’m sorry I spilled coffee on you and was rude.”
The West Coast dude released his hold and Mr. BMW raced out of the coffee shop. As soon as he left, the coffeehouse erupted into a round of applause.
The West Coast dude let out a surprised laugh and looked at the patrons around him, humbled. “Thanks. I didn’t mean to make a scene. It’s just that, where I come from, we don’t talk like that, especially to women. And I’m not gonna stand by and let anyone be disrespectful.”
Kira couldn’t believe a stranger had defended her so vehemently, of his own accord. Back in New York, people weren’t usually so quick to get involved in other people’s disagreements, so this was a nice change of pace. “That was totally unnecessary,”
she told the man. “Thank you very much.”
“You can thank me by letting me buy you another cup of coffee.”
“It’s on the house!” the barista called from behind the counter, then placed two cups of coffee on the serving platform.
The West Coast dude retrieved them. He started to hand one to Kira, then stopped and stared at the wet stain on her top, his mouth gaping open. “Are you OK? I just realized that the coffee he spilled was hot.”
“My top absorbed most of it.” She pulled the material away from her body and cringed. “Just wet.”
“Let me help you.” He put the cups back on the counter and led her by the elbow toward the restroom.
She tried to protest, but this guy never slowed his pace. She had to admit, she really enjoyed the attention. It had been a long time since she’d been pampered by a man as sexy as this one.
He propped the door to the restroom open with the large metal garbage pail and turned on the faucet.
She watched, unsure and intrigued by exactly what this guy intended to do. The spill was down the front of her shirt, and she wondered if he planned on groping her and why she wasn’t protesting. He grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser and wadded them into two separate piles. He ran one set under the water and squeezed out the excess, while the other sat on the edge of the sink. Without hesitation, he pulled the shirt away from her body and swabbed at the stain, first with the set of wet paper towels, then with the dry ones.
A bemused smile spread across Kira’s lips as she watched him tend to her with the familiarity of an old friend when, in reality, he was a total stranger. She studied his rugged face and intense eyes, which never left his task. His angular cheekbones and strong jawline were clearly visible under his thick beard. Facial hair was never really something she found attractive before, but this guy wore his like a lion. It screamed confidence and nobility, and she had an insane inkling to reach out and touch it. But she didn’t.
Her gaze settled on an eyebrow piercing, which looked menacing and cool, as he furrowed his brow with concentration. She watched his hand move up and down over the stain. He had a skull tattooed on the back of one hand and twin wrenches crossed on the other. Letters were written over his knuckles, but she could only read the word spelled out on his right hand. “Live?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“Your hand.”
“Oh.” A small smile spread across his lips as he presented both fists so she could read the full statement inked into his knuckles. “Live fast. It’s kinda my motto.”
Of course it was. She assessed what she learned about him in the 15 minutes since she’d first noticed him. He had paid for a stranger’s coffee. He defended her honor. And he took charge in cleaning up the stain on her top. This man acted on instinct, without forethought.
“Do you have any tattoos?” he asked.
“No.”
He looked her up and down with smoldering eyes. “You look like you’d have plenty. You’ve got a really edgy look. I love it.”
A little flutter tickled the center of Kira’s chest, something that hadn’t been there in a long time. “I like tattoos. I just don’t have any.” Her gaze washed over his arms. The designs blended together without any visible raw skin, making it hard to discern where one tattoo ended and the next began. An evil clown on his bicep taunted her with its wicked grin. “This one’s cool.” She brushed it with the tip of her finger, and he flexed his muscle underneath her touch. She sucked in a breath at the movement and wondered if he did it on purpose in order to incite the reaction.
“Thanks.” He bent his arm at the elbow and lifted it a little so she could get a better look. “I got it in Southern California last year.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Yep.” He flexed his other bicep. “I got this one in Japan.”
It was a tiger surrounded by tall bamboo with a waterfall in the background. It took up most of his upper arm, and the impressive detail made it look almost three dimensional. “It’s beautiful.” She ran her hand over the tattoo, feeling the curve of his muscle. What the hell am I doing? Surprised at her bold actions, she knew she should stop touching him, but she couldn’t help herself. It was as if she had no control. Everything about this man drew her to him. Even more compelling than his outward good looks and integrity, was that he interested her. She couldn’t determine if his appearance was more biker or rock star. He got inked in Japan, which made her wonder about the rock star aspect of his look, although she doubted he was famous. She knew almost all of the current and upcoming bands in the music industry, and she would have remembered him.
As soon as she looked at his face, those black eyes pinned her with their intensity and sent a hot shiver down her spine. All thoughts cleared her head and she swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as a stone. He didn’t just lock eyes with her. He looked into her soul and saw exactly what she needed. Without asking, he kissed her, as if he knew she wanted it before she knew it herself. His mouth was strong against hers, his kiss commanding. He took control, and she let him. Succumbing to this stranger went against everything that defined her, but something about him made her let go.
His beard left a rough abrasion on her cheek, so different from the clean-shaven white-collar workers she usually went out with. They were the ones she was expected to date. He was the one she wanted.
As their mouths gyrated together, his erection came to life against her hip. Her body immediately reacted, reminding her that she was a woman with needs that had been neglected for far too long.
He pulled back and displayed a cocky grin, then kicked the garbage pail out from the doorway. The heavy metal door slammed shut, sealing off the world outside. He slid the deadbolt closed, then faced her with a grin that conveyed the sexy thoughts behind his twinkling eyes. He lifted his shirt over his head, revealing more tattoos and a heavily muscled chest that made her knees weak.
She was alone in the tiny bathroom with a man she’d barely spoken to, and it sent a shiver over her limbs. Or maybe the gooseflesh that covered her arms were the result of the stunning physique in front of her and their risqué proximity to one another.
Instinctively, her hands landed on his pecs. She looked up at him, and he kissed her. His tongue invaded her mouth with authority. His hands reached under her top and caressed her waist. They were rough, working hands, and she needed to be naked so she could feel them all over her. She slipped her top over her head, unhooked her bra and tossed them both onto the bathroom counter. His mouth and hands were on her breasts in an instant. Callouses scratched across her nipples, lighting a fire between her legs and making her knees tremble. His hands massaged her breasts roughly. He was impatient. Hungry. And it made her react the same way.
She tugged at his jeans, and he immediately opened them and pushed them to his knees. She noted his lack of underwear, and it made her smile. He reached for the chain attached to his wallet, pulled it free and fished out a condom. Reality hit her. She was about to have sex with a stranger in a restroom. A man who carried condoms in his wallet. The outlandish behavior was totally unlike her, but it made her skin prickle with excitement.
Holding the condom between his teeth, he unzipped her jeans and pulled them down over her hips. He lifted her by the waist and placed her on the edge of the vanity, but not before placing his T-shirt underneath her first. The idea that he didn’t want her bare butt to touch the surface of the bathroom counter in a public restroom filled her with gratitude, because she was too caught up in the moment to care.
She leaned back, bracing her hands on either side of her, as he removed her boots and discarded her jeans and panties. With wide eyes and lips slightly parted, she watched him roll the condom over his length. Anticipation made her heart race like a frightened rabbit. He took a step forward and tugged her closer to him by the hips. She gasped and clutched onto his shoulders. Their lips crashed together in a heated kiss. As he pushed inside her, she automatically arched her back
and dug her fingers into his biceps while her head fell back, and she took in a deep intake of air.
She bit her lip as she rocked into him. The voices of the people in the coffeehouse filtered into the bathroom as they chatted among themselves, unaware that behind the closed bathroom door two people were ravishing each other’s bodies. Or maybe a few did know. People had witnessed the altercation with the spilled coffee. Maybe they were listening right now to Kira’s heavy panting. A thrill shot through her at the notion that people were eavesdropping, and it pushed her over the edge. An explosion of sensations shot through her body. Colors flashed behind her eyes. She fell into a pool of bliss. It drowned her, and she couldn’t see. She couldn’t hear. All she could do was surrender. Sensations made her body shudder. Every nerve ending vibrated inside of her, making her head buzz until she momentarily lost the ability to breathe. Air returned to her lungs with a loud gasp and left her flushed.
Unable to hold herself steady, she hung onto his neck, otherwise she’d slip off the vanity and fall to the floor. He lifted her by the hips as if she were weightless and took a step back. With one last push of energy, she flung her legs around his waist and interlocked her ankles. As he pumped his hips into her, he rubbed her crotch against him. Each movement drove another shot of euphoria through her body. She had no control. It was all him, and he was determined to make sure she received every bit of pleasure. Another tremor overtook her without warning, and her head was suddenly too heavy to hold up. It fell back, and she cried out toward the ceiling. The bright light shone down on her like an unforgiving sun. The muscles in her legs were weak with fatigue, and she could no longer hold her ankles interlaced behind his back. But he held her in place, making sure her body was engaged in endless friction. “Oh. My.” She gulped. “God. What are you doing to me?”
The Roadie: Radical Rock Stars Book 7 Page 1