Rock Star Romance Ultimate: Volume 1

by Olivia Cunning, Jayne Frost, RB Hilliard, Crystal Kaswell, Michelle Mankin, Emily Snow, Athena Wright

  Once inside, I dropped my sunglasses on the marble sofa table and took a look around. The room was top notch, sporting a gourmet kitchen, a bar, and a huge master suite.

  “Not bad, Chase. Not bad at all.”

  My thoughts wandered to Christian in the hospital, and what could have happened if he’d been a few seconds later or earlier on the road. And then to Lily. That pretty pink tongue. The nervous stammer. Those pale baby blues.

  Don’t even think about it.

  I could almost hear my brother’s warning.

  Chase did business in Dallas and stayed at the Mansion whenever he was in town. Banging the events coordinator would definitely piss him off. Especially if I never called her again.

  Sighing, I pushed all thoughts of the cute little blonde aside and unpacked my suitcase. When my stomach growled, I strolled to the kitchen to check the fridge. All the necessities: bottled water, a twelve pack of Shiner Bock, and a tray filled with cheese and fruit.

  Ignoring the ringing phone, I snagged a bottle of water and the tray, then headed to the living room. I ached to burn off some of the tension twisting my back into knots, but I’d need some workout gear first.

  Popping a strawberry into my mouth, I pulled the envelope from my pocket. Lily’s card fell out when I turned it upside down to remove the contents. A number was scrawled on the back in delicate script. I contemplated for only a moment before grabbing my cell phone.

  “Lily Tennison,” came her satiny smooth voice.

  Opening the brochure, I laid it across my lap. “Hey, Lily. This is Cameron.” Silence. “Cameron Knight.” More silence. I sat up, my feet hitting the floor with a thud. I couldn’t be that fucking forgettable. “I was just in your office—”

  “Of c-course, Mr. Knight. What can I do for you?”

  I scowled. She couldn’t see me, but I knew I was scowling. And that was enough. Time to teach Ms. Tennison a lesson. She wouldn’t be forgetting me after I got through with her.

  “I need you to fetch me some workout clothes, darlin’. Size large.”

  When she didn’t answer, I looked down at the blank screen on my phone. With a sigh, I stood up and hit redial. The phone rang twice and went to voicemail. And then it sank in. She’d hung up on me.

  What the fuck.

  Sinking back onto the sofa, I scratched my head. The last woman to hang up on me was my mama. And that was years ago.

  Chewing on another strawberry, I deliberated while I stared at the phone. I was about to call the front desk when a knock echoed in the suite. Hauling to my feet, I walked cautiously across the room. Through the peephole, I spied a mass of blond hair.

  “Can I help you?” I ventured, fingers poised on the deadbolt.

  “Mr. Knight, this is Lily Tennison—”

  I yanked open the door and her head snapped up, but she didn’t say anything, blinking up at me like a deer in headlights.

  That’s more like it.

  Smiling, I leaned against the door frame. “Hey, Lily,” I drawled. “I believe we were disconnected. You didn’t have to come all the way out here to find out my size.”

  Finding her voice, she bit out. “I-I didn’t. And j-just so you know, I don’t f-fetch, Mr. Knight.”

  “Just an expression. No need to get all worked up. And call me Cameron.”

  “I’m n-not worked up. I j-just…”

  Damn, she was cute. All fiery eyed, and blushing. Retracing my steps, I dropped onto the sofa and snagged a piece of melon from the tray.

  “Aren’t you going to come in?” Hitching an eyebrow, I propped my feet on the expensive as fuck coffee table. “I thought of a few more things while you were on your way over.”

  Lily looked around as if she just realized that she’d been outmaneuvered. I was the guest. And a VIP.

  Lifting her chin, she stepped inside, clasping her hands in front of her. “My email address is on the c-card. I’d be more than happy to pass on your r-requests to our personal sh-shopper.”

  Smiling, I speared another piece of fruit. “Now, why would I do that? You’re already here.”

  Fire flashed in her eyes as she marched to the desk.

  Inclining my head to get a better view, I took in an eyeful of her luscious backside when she passed. I snapped my gaze to hers when she turned, a notepad in her hand.

  “What exactly can I get for you, Mr. Knight?”

  Holding the pen so tightly I could see the white in her knuckles, she waited for me to tick off my list.

  “The workout clothes I mentioned. Size large. A couple of pairs of jeans. Boot cut. Size 32x36. T-shirts and socks.” Draping an arm over the back of the couch, I looked her up and down. “And underwear.”

  Scribbling furiously, she didn’t look up. “Boxers, briefs…” Her pen finally came to rest, and a smile hitched up one corner of her mouth. “Or panties?”

  Choking on the piece of melon trying to make its way down my throat, my eyes bugged. Lily casually strode to the table and handed me the half empty bottle of water.

  I took a large swallow, a couple of tears stinging my eyes as I glared up at her. The girl was too cocky for her own good. But instead of being a turn off, all the blood raced south to my dick.

  And what the fuck was that about?

  She blinked at me innocently when I stopped coughing. “Well?”

  “Boxers,” I growled.

  With a smile, she finished jotting down her note, then tore the paper from the pad and tossed the notebook on the table. “I’ll make sure to have these delivered as soon as possible.”

  Instead of walking around, she stepped over my legs, causing her skirt to hike up her thighs. Resisting the urge to pull her down on the sectional, I fell back against the cushions and watched her stalk out of the room.

  ***

  Two hours later, I was dozing on the couch when a rap on the door pulled me from my sleep. Lily. Why she was the first person I thought of, I couldn’t say. Peering through the peephole, my shoulders sagged when I spotted a balding man in his mid-forties. Definitely not Lily.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Mr. Knight? I’m Dave, your valet.” Smiling, he lifted the name tag on the front of his white smock. “I’ve brought your dinner, along with some items Ms. Tennison asked me to deliver.”

  I flipped the deadbolt and pulled the door open. Dave’s grin widened. “May I come in, sir?”

  “Of course.” I stepped aside, holding the door for him. “And call me Cameron.”

  “Very well, sir.” He backed into the room, pulling the cart over the threshold. “Where would you like to eat, sir?”

  No matter how hard I tried, I would never get used to a man many years older calling me “sir” just because he happened to be serving my dinner. Or washing my car. My father was a horse’s ass, but my mama taught me to respect my elders.

  I tipped my chin to the table in front of the TV. “Over there is fine.”

  With a nod, Dave set about to unload the cart. Grabbing a couple of plates, I set them down next to the others. He smiled at me appreciatively.

  “May I turn down your bed, sir?”

  Patting him on the back, I shook my head. “If you call me ‘sir’ one more time, I’m going to send you packing.” Reclaiming my seat on the couch, I tossed him a smile. “I’m grown, Dave; I think I can manage to pull back the comforter all by myself.”

  “Very well…” Dave was on the verge of another “sir” when I leveled him with a warning glare. Clearing his throat, he shifted his feet. “If you don’t mind, I’ll check the refrigerator and see what needs to be replenished. I’ll be right back to take your order for breakfast, assuming you’ll be dining in your room.”

  I pointed at the two empty water bottles. “That’s all I’ve taken from the fridge, plus some fruit and cheese, and I noticed an extra case of water in the pantry. So no worries.” Intercepting the ever efficient valet when he tried to remove the silver covers from the plates of food, I motioned for him to sit. “Take a load
off, Dave. I insist.”

  He blinked at me, unsure, then eased onto the chair and folded his hands in his lap.

  Having ordered a sample of most of the appetizers on the menu, I had way too much food in front of me, so I pushed a plate of buffalo wings in his direction. “Hungry?”

  His gaze shifted to the heaping plates of food. From the looks of him, Dave liked his groceries. “I really should be getting back,” he said, with no conviction.

  Licking the sauce from my fingers, I raised a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be my personal go-to guy or something?”

  “Yes, sir…Cameron…”

  I nudged the plate a little closer to him. “Well, then go to it, son. Let’s not let this food go to waste.”

  He served himself a single buffalo wing and I barked out a laugh. “Come on, now. You can do better than that.”

  Smiling sheepishly, Dave loaded his plate with potato skins, cheese sticks, and a few other tidbits. With the band on the tail end of a two month tour, I should’ve savored eating alone. But I just wasn’t that kind of guy.

  “So how long have you worked at The Mansion?” I asked after polishing off a potato skin.

  Pondering, his eyes drifted to the ceiling. “Let’s see. Twenty-five years. I started here the year my daughter Sylvia was born.”

  He chuckled, looking down at his plate.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “My daughter…not Sylvia…Raquel, she would keel over if she knew I was eating dinner with Cameron Knight.”

  I paused with the water bottle halfway to my lips. “You know who I am?”

  Dave nodded. “I have two daughters, Mr.…er, Cameron. I’m a little long in the tooth, but I’m not completely out of touch.”

  I laughed. “Two daughters, huh? Bet that keeps you on your toes.”

  “You have no idea.”

  Being on the road, I had a very good idea. But I wanted to have a quiet dinner, not give Dave a heart attack.

  “Are those the packages Lily sent over?” I asked when I notice the Neiman Marcus bags hanging from the handle of the cart.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Intrigued, I shoved to my feet and retrieved the goodies. Upending the first bag, an array of pastel pink and lavender t-shirts tumbled onto the couch.

  The fuck?

  I moved on to the next bag, and when I pulled out the first pair of jeans, super skinny with jewel embellished pockets, I got the message loud and clear. This was all Lily, exacting a little payback from our earlier encounter. I wasn’t angry, though. Not even a little bit.

  Chuckling, I held up the next pair of jeans—boot cut, with metal studs that wound down the outer seam. Dumping the last bag, I wasn’t surprised to find an assortment of silk boxers that looked like cupid had thrown up all over them. I snatched the note from the top of the heap.

  Let me know if I can be of any further assistance—Lily Tennison

  Turning to Dave when he let out a snort, I lifted a brow, and he quickly averted his gaze. But I didn’t fail to notice his shoulders quaking as he tried to suppress his snickering.

  “Laugh it up,” I said good-naturedly as I plopped down on the sofa. “But when you’re finished, I need you to tell me everything you know about Lily Tennison.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  * * *

  Cameron

  Promptly at eight the next morning, I strolled into Lily’s office. Looking up from her laptop, her jaw dropped to her desk when she saw me.

  “Cameron…”

  Shoving my hands in the pockets of the skinny jeans, I sauntered over to her desk. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you for the new duds. I would sit down, but these jeans are so fucking tight, I might lose the ability to procreate.”

  She tried to stifle a giggle. “I-I think they look great.”

  “Really? Is it the pink t-shirt?” Turning in a circle, I gave her a view of the rhinestones that covered the pockets. “Or the jewels on my ass that make it work?”

  Leaning back in her chair, she let loose, a husky laugh erupting from deep in her chest. “It’s the whole thing.” She moved her hand in front of her in a circular motion. “It all works.”

  Her eyes widened when I skirted the desk. Grabbing the arms of the chair, I tipped forward, close enough to smell her shampoo. The cinnamon on her breath. And the perfume that clung to her skin. “Very funny, Lily. You’re lucky I can pull off any look. A lesser man wouldn’t be comfortable in pink.”

  The smile touched her lips once again. And I knew if I lingered a second longer, I’d steal a kiss. And something told me she’d let me. But I wasn’t sure, so I walked around to the front of the desk and eased onto the edge of the wing-backed chair.

  “As much as I’d like to continue discussing my fabulous wardrobe, I’m actually here to book a package.”

  Sobering, Lily straightened and tucked a fallen curl behind her ear. “Of course.” She pulled out a laminated copy of a brochure from her top drawer. “What package are you interested in, or would you like to create your own?”

  “The Essence of Texas.”

  Swallowing hard, she looked down at the brochure and then back to me. “Um... of course. Cameron—Mr. Knight—are you aware of the…” She sighed. “It’s very expensive.”

  “I understand it’s a two-day excursion. And the cost is in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars. That doesn’t sound too steep. Is there something about the package that you don’t recommend?”

  “N-no!” She was quick to shake her head. “It’s a wonderful package. A private tour of the Dallas Museum and the Nasher Sculpting Center.” Producing several more brochures, she laid them in front of me. “The artwork is really beautiful. Aside from that, you get to choose a night at the ballet or the opera.”

  Leaning in for a better look at the photos, my hand grazed hers, and when she looked up, her eyes locked on mine. Cornflower blue and oh so inviting. Or maybe not since she pulled away.

  “What dates were you interested in?”

  “Thursday and Friday.”

  Nodding, she shifted her focus to the calendar on her desk while I studied her face. She wasn’t just cute, but a classic beauty. Polished, with an air of sophistication.

  And way out of your league.

  The thought came out of left field, and I shifted in my seat, feeling suddenly exposed. Before I could abandon my plan, she met my gaze once again, that adorable crease popping out on her forehead.

  “Those dates might be tough, considering it’s such short notice,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I’ll have to call the venues and get back with you.”

  “No worries.” I rose to my feet and headed for the door. “I’m sure you’ll get it handled.”

  “Wait!”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Would you prefer the opera or the ballet?”

  “I’m not sure. What do you recommend?”

  Her face broke into a huge grin. “The ballet is wonderful.”

  I shrugged. “The ballet it is.”

  ***

  After leaving Lily’s office, I slipped back to my room and changed into yesterday’s clothes so I could meet Logan and Sean for breakfast. I was prepared to play out her little joke in private, but I wasn’t going to risk ending up in the tabloids wearing that getup.

  Bypassing the hostess in the café, I headed straight for the tables in the back.

  “Hey,” I said, dropping into a seat beside Logan. “Where’s Sean?”

  He peered at me over the top of his sunglasses, eyes red rimmed and lips pressed into a thin line. “Probably in bed since it’s the ass crack of dawn.”

  Shaking my head, I poured a cup of coffee. “Quit being so overdramatic. Nine is not the ass crack of dawn.” I slid the paper with our schedule in front of him. “Here’s a list of the interviews Lindsey lined up.”

  Our manager wasn’t too happy when I refused to give up the goods on our location. But she’d agreed to quit blowing up my phone wh
en I promised to make sure we’d handle our commitments.

  Grunting, Logan pointed to a logo at the top of the page. 107.1 The Edge. The top radio station in Dallas.

  “Dude, even if I was up for doing any interviews, we both know I’m not the one Wicked Wendy wants to see.”

  Sinking further into my chair, I hid my frown behind a sip of coffee. Usually interviews were an either/or proposition. Any or all of us could do the honors. But not this one.

  A million years ago when Caged was just a garage band, Wendy Palmer was a first year communications major at the University of Texas at Austin. Somehow she’d managed to finagle an assignment as the music critic for both the campus newspaper and radio station.

  Wendy made her bones by scoring interviews with all the up and coming Austin bands.

  After spying Caged at an open mic night at one of the more popular dive bars, Wendy introduced herself. I gave her an interview, my first, and then she took me back to her dorm room where I fucked her seven ways from Sunday on her twin bed. From then on, she became a fixture at our shows, following the band to every dingy venue on Sixth.

  Shortly after Caged got discovered, Wendy landed a job at one of the biggest radio stations in Dallas. I always made sure to pay her a visit when the band was passing through town. Sometimes we ended up right back where we started. In bed. Although a bed wasn’t a prerequisite. A dressing room, the tour bus, or even a bathroom had served the purpose throughout the years. The last few times it was strictly business. A thirty minute interview, and I was out the door.

  “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of Wendy.” Cringing inwardly when Logan waggled his brows at me, I set down my cup. “But I need you to do me a favor.”

  “What?” he groaned, rubbing his forehead.

  Obviously, his night had been a bit more eventful than mine. Thankfully, he wasn’t in the mood to share.