Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2

by Mankin, Michelle

  Once my spasms faded, he rearranged my languid body and climbed over me.

  I reached up and framed his face, my arms trembling. Dazed from pleasure, I stared at him with his weight planted on his hands, his biceps flexed. He looked amazingly proud—he had every right to be—and he was so handsome. I fought through the stab of pain at the thought of how soon I would have to give him up.

  “You are very good at that.” Forcing my mouth into a smile, I swiped my thumbs through the wetness of me remaining on his lips.

  “It’s you. I want to taste you, hear you moan, know that your focus is all on me and what I’m doing to you.”

  “It is, and it was.” My focus would always be him. In the entry hall. Behind the couch. On the couch. In the shower. On this bed. We’d been relentless since we returned to the condo.

  I searched his eyes, noting how shadows dulled the silver, even more than since we started. Time was running out, and we both knew it. Was the gold in mine just as tarnished?

  I lifted his hair from his brow, following my movement as I combed through the rich dark strands with my fingers. Savoring the satiny texture and the thickness, I gulped around the tightness in my throat. When my gaze returned to his, his anxiety seemed to match mine.

  “Can you? Would you? Could we do it again?” I asked.

  “I could. I would. I don’t think I can stop.”

  His eyes flashed, the silver dazzling, the intensity within piercing my soul. He lowered his head and sipped from my lips as if they were the best he’d ever tasted.

  His kisses were like none I’d ever had. From long, sizzling explorations to short, sweet, surface-skimming pecks, each pulled me further under his spell, making me more his. Every single one a reminder, as if I could ever forget that there would never be another like him.

  My hands moved, memorizing every inch of him. The breadth of his shoulders. The firmness of his arms. The strength of his spine. The curve of his ass. Smooth, warm skin stretched over sinewy steel, somehow made malleable beneath my questing fingertips.

  As his mouth glided across the round of my cheek, he lifted his body and stretched out his arm to the nightstand for a condom. The stack of packets was diminishing fast.

  He rolled it on too fast. A quick glimpse was all I got. The breadth, the width, the steely length of his cock—it was an erotic image that filled my mind with heat a moment before he filled my body with it.

  Whispering dirty words in my ear, he told me how hot, how tight, how wet I was while he slid out and drove back inside me. Long, slow strokes, then quick, short ones that skimmed the surface of my need. Deep. Then shallow.

  The world seemed to fade away. Nothing existed but him and me, and the ebb and flow of our bodies in unison.

  My hips lifted to meet each thrust. His voice in my ear encouraged me to let go, then demanded as the heat inevitably built. The fire between us was an insatiable blaze. The moment he drove deep and stiffened, I surrendered, flying like he was, yet consumed by the flames.

  I wrapped my arms and legs around him as if they could bind him to me. But I knew deep down, there would be little of me left but ashes in the end.

  ***

  Rush

  “Can’t I have a peek?” I asked her from my spot on the lounger.

  “No,” she said.

  Behind her new easel, all I could see of Jewel was the top of her head and her calves and bare feet.

  I frowned. “I let you hear my music before it’s completed.”

  “That’s different. It’s already beautiful. All I have so far is just blotches of color and indistinct shapes. Those will change as I fill in and add to them.”

  “A song’s a lot like a painting.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s nothing inside my head until I give it sound, like your blank canvas until you select a color and pick up your brush and give it form. I strum and sing my imagination into being. You paint it.”

  Her brow creased in thought, she stepped out to look at me. “That’s pretty deep. And true.”

  My eager gaze swept over her. She’d been behind that easel for almost an hour. Her hair loose in waves, her earrings dangled to her shoulders, she was wearing a thigh-skimming white dress covered by a black smock, but I well-remembered her curves and how she felt beneath all those layers.

  “I love listening to you create, and being out here with you on your patio.” She turned to look at the ocean. “The sunsets are the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

  “Yes, they are,” I said, but I wasn’t looking at the waves. I was watching the sun set fire to the copper in her hair.

  “You’ve been playing the same chords over and over tonight.” Her gaze back on me, she tilted her head in an unspoken question.

  “Sorry. Sometimes the sound comes straight out of my head just right. Other times, I have to keep repeating it until I figure out what’s missing.”

  “I totally get that. It can be frustrating. When you know how it should be, but you don’t know what to do to get there. Maybe you’re even afraid that you’ll never get there. That what you need—I mean, what you see or hear in your head—is too beyond your ability to create.”

  Was she talking about creating? Or did she mean something more? Was this about us?

  “That’s exactly it.” On all counts.

  The song felt like one of the best I’d ever written. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me. But did I have the skill to do the song justice? Did I have what it took to keep her from slipping away?

  “You can do it. Don’t give up. Otherwise you’ve already lost.” Her expression soft, she laid her brush beside the paints and closed the distance between us.

  I set my guitar in the stand and tugged her onto the lounger with me, arranging her between my legs. She leaned back into me, her sweet peachy scent filling my lungs, her warmth filling my heart.

  “You were smiling earlier,” she said. “I’m sorry you’ve hit a roadblock. Maybe when you get the guys with you at the studio, it will click.”

  “Maybe.” I wasn’t so sure.

  “I feel lucky to be here with you.”

  She felt lucky? No, I was the lucky one, being here with her.

  “I like your sound. Next to piano, the acoustic guitar has always been my favorite. And your voice, it’s so rich and smooth and so sexy when you lower it to sing. I want to listen to all the songs you’ve already recorded.”

  “Thanks, babe.” I squeezed my arms tighter around her. The platinum status of the last album paled in comparison to the way her praise made me feel. “But I’m not sure you’d like my old stuff.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s hard-core rock. I abandoned the softer stuff early on in my career. It wasn’t selling.”

  “That makes me sad.”

  “In the beginning, I played for myself. That playing for pleasure you mentioned the first night we were together? That was me. Music was a compulsion, something I had to do, something inside me that had to come out. That did well in the small clubs around campus. Then I came out here. After I got together with Ben and Jack, it got bigger than me, and I got caught up in chasing after the wrong things. Somewhere along the way, I lost my voice, my desire, the passion that started me on this journey in the first place.”

  But with her I felt like I’d rediscovered it.

  Jewel gave me a smile. “If what I’ve been listening to is any indication, I’d say you’ve found your voice.”

  “I feel like I have. Yes.”

  “I’m glad,” she whispered. “But it’s getting late. We should probably go.”

  “I don’t want to leave just yet.” My arms tightened around her.

  “Neither do I.” She settled back into me.

  I pulled her close and inhaled the fruity scent of her hair, both thrilled and terrified that I hadn’t just rediscovered my muse.

  I’d found much more.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  * * *

  Jewel
<
br />   “I’m so glad I ran into you and that you could come tonight.” At the party, Shaina took my hands and squeezed them.

  “I’m the one who feels fortunate,” I said. “It’s lovely out here.”

  The backyard was a lush, palm-tree-filled oasis that spilled downhill from the main ranch-style house to a former garage that had been transformed into a two-story apartment. We were sitting on loungers on the deck behind the house, our legs stretched out in front of us. Light from the twinkling lights strung over our heads reflected in her pretty eyes.

  “Lovely because of who you’re with, I imagine.” Shaina inclined her head.

  I followed the direction of her gaze. Rush was on the other side of the deck, talking with War, getting a quick rundown on the inner workings of the studio sound system. Beer in their hands, Bryan, Jack, and Ben were nearby. Shaina’s parents had excused themselves and gone inside after dinner.

  “Yes, because of him.” My lips lifted into a smile as Rush’s eyes met mine.

  “It happens fast,” Shaina said softly.

  “What does?”

  “Falling in love. Though I think the descent is faster than gravity. Or it was with me and War.”

  Startled, I shook my head. “I’m not.” Yet as I stared at Rush, I had to admit to myself that was a lie. I had fallen. And it had happened before tonight.

  “How did you meet him?”

  “It was a chance encounter,” I said, not meeting her eyes. Vagueness seemed the way to go.

  “So was mine, or that’s the way War sees it. But I don’t believe in chance. I believe in fate.”

  Loving Rush felt like fate. It felt inevitable.

  Shaina gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped my bounds. I just feel comfortable with you, like I’ve known you a long time. And . . .” She blew out a breath. “I guess I’m a little lonely too. I lost my best friend.”

  “Oh no.” I would be crushed without Cam. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, not that way.” Her somber expression lightened. “Alex found his significant other. With the wedding planning coming together so quickly, and his film career taking off, he’s totally busy. I’m happy for him. So happy, but I miss him.” She squeezed my hand, then let it go. “I miss talking to someone one on one. Hanging out. Feeling connected to someone in a similar situation. Being with a sensitive front man isn’t easy. You have to share them with their muse, their bandmates, and their fans.”

  “It certainly isn’t easy,” I said. And she didn’t know the half of my difficulties.

  “I hope you feel you can talk to me. That you can tell me anything. I’m very good at listening and keeping secrets.”

  “I appreciate you. And the offer. It’s still new.” And soon to be over. “I don’t feel like I can share yet.”

  I gave Shaina a small smile.

  “But I can use all the friends I can get. My closest one is . . . well, we’re separated right now too. But I’ll see her in a few days.” In a few days, Cam would likely be all I had left.

  “Is she in the same field as you?”

  I nodded.

  “What do you do exactly? I forgot to ask. I just assume everyone here in LA is in film.”

  “Yeah. I’m in acting too.” Pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Selling my body for cash. Deceiving myself into believing I was doing the right thing, stealing this moment in time with Rush.

  “It’s a tough business.”

  “It is.”

  “Sucks the soul out of you. The casting auditions. The rejections.”

  “It does.”

  “Some days I feel like I just can’t do it anymore. But then there’s War.” She turned her head.

  The Tempest front man was watching her. His eyes followed her constantly. Hers drifted to him just as often. The connection between them was intense.

  “Trying to break into top-tier roles is exhausting. He believes in me more than I believe in myself most days.”

  “That’s special, that kind of support.”

  “When you meet someone special, someone who connects with you and who understands you and your passion, that’s someone you should hold on to.” She took my hand again, squeezed it, and smiled. “Whether it’s a new friend like me, or . . .” She lifted her chin toward Rush, who was headed our way. “A possessive front man.”

  “We’re headed into the studio.” Rush scooped me up into his arms.

  Smiling knowingly, Shaina excused herself and got up to rejoin War.

  “All right,” I told Rush. “I’ll just stay out here and wait for you to finish.”

  “I want you to come with.” His expression was firm. But behind him, Jack and Ben didn’t appear as thrilled about me trailing along.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You brought your sketch pad, right?”

  “Yes.” I hefted my strap further up my shoulder. “It’s in my bag.”

  “It’s tedious, the recording process. Overdubbing chords.” He gestured to Ben. “We sometimes argue over minutia with the lyrics.”

  “Sometimes?” Ben arched a brow.

  “A lot of times. But only because it’s important to get it right.” Rush returned his full attention to me. “I think better when you’re close. When I can see you.”

  “I’ll come.” I glanced at his bandmates. “If they feel like I’m a distraction, I’ll leave. Fair?” I posed the question to everyone.

  “Fair,” Jack said, a grudging respect in his eyes, respect I didn’t think I’d earned, though I was glad to see that less trouble brewed in the soulful depths of his gaze tonight. “Rush has been MIA as leader for a while. Gotta say I’ve missed that side of him professionally, and even more as his friend. He told us that’s from your influence. I like that for him.”

  “But I haven’t done anything . . .”

  “Just encourage and listen,” Rush said, reaching out to stroke the back of his fingers down my cheek. The cold metal of his ring contrasted with the warmth of his caress.

  “He’s the one who makes me feel like my thoughts matter, that I matter.” I searched his eyes, hoping he saw the truth of my words and the magnitude of what it meant to me to have his appreciation.

  “That’s Rush, all right.” Ben studied us closely. Well, mostly me. There was no respect in his gaze. Only speculation. “Let’s do this. Time’s a-wasting.”

  Wasn’t it ever?

  Stealing a moment? Yes, I could do that.

  Holding on to that moment and making it last? Impossible.

  Time hurried on, slowing for no one. Not for me. Not even for a rock star. The tighter we tried to grasp and hold on to it, the more tenuous it became, and the faster it seemed to slip from our hands.

  ***

  Rush

  I could feel Jewel watching me through the glass. It was difficult to concentrate when she was so close but so far way.

  Did she feel it? My increasing desperation to keep what we had? I wanted to grab her, take her back to the condo, lock us both inside, and never let her go.

  “First three tracks are solid.” Ben moved in front of me, blocking my view of her. “This one’s missing something.”

  “Yeah.” Holding my Martin near my body, I shifted to look at Jewel. On the couch, she had her ankles crossed demurely, like the first time she dropped her ass into the passenger seat of my Porsche. Only her head was bowed, and her reddish-brown hair curtained her face. Whatever she was drawing absorbed her.

  “It’d help if you focused on what the song needs instead of her.”

  I frowned at Ben. “If I knew, it’d already be on the track.”

  “Does she know this song is about her?”

  I shook my head, glancing over to make sure the mic connection wasn’t open to the other room.

  “She got under your skin fast.”

  I didn’t respond. The truth was, she was deeper than that already.

  “Not smart.” Ben shook his head. “What do you know about her?”


  “All the important stuff.” That she was smart. Loyal. Kind. Sweet. Beautiful.

  “Enough background to know she’s not playing you?”

  “She’s not a groupie, Ben.”

  “Neither was Jack’s ex.”

  Jack’s head shot up. “Now wait a minute—”

  “You know you’re worried too,” Ben said. “We talked about it on the way over here.”

  “That was before I spent time with her. She’s all right.”

  “You’re not the best judge of women, though, are you?”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, Ben.”

  “What’s your point?” I glared at my bassist. “Get it out. Speak plain.” I was so done with this conversation.

  “Be careful. Don’t let on how twisted up she’s got you. Don’t give her the upper hand.”

  Would caution keep Jewel? I didn’t think so.

  “Message received. Topic closed.” I gave Ben a firm look and swiveled to face Jack. “Give me the beat again.”

  “All right.” He clacked his sticks.

  I strummed the chords, put my lips to the mic, squeezed my eyes shut, and sang, imagining Jewel in my arms.

  And then I heard her voice, echoing me on the chorus. “Whatever I want you to be. Whatever I need you to be. You’re so right for me.”

  My eyes flew open and I stopped playing to slice my hand through the air at Ben. He stilled too. Behind me, Jack had already clued in.

  “You write those words to go with the song?” Ben asked me.

  “Yeah, basically, but not from her perspective.”

  His eyes widened. “That’s your missing piece.”

  “I know.” My gaze was fixed on Jewel. She didn’t even realize we were all watching her.

  “Get her in here,” Ben said. “Her inflection is perfect. Don’t let her overthink it.”

  But I was already on the move, pushing through the door of the studio enclosure directly to her. “Jewel!”

  She glanced up. “Are you done?” Her gaze flicked to the guys.

  “Not exactly, but almost. Can you come in the booth with us for a moment?”