Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2

by Mankin, Michelle

  Maybe not the answer blowing in the wind, but definitely my answer.

  She was talking to another waitress. They paused to remove the long aprons Gustav insisted the waitstaff wear while working.

  When she saw me, she smiled. The girl with her said something that made her nod, then Jewel came toward me. I moved to meet her.

  “Hey, you,” I said once I had her in my arms. “How’d your day go?”

  “Long. My feet hurt. But Linda says I’m doing well. I might get a chance at a dinner shift.”

  “Linda, the girl who just left with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That all she said?”

  “No.”

  “Did she notice my entourage?”

  The paps were tailing me. Opportunists, they knew their chances were high to snag a celebrity in the city. Around the high-end restaurants, clubs, and hotels, they were hard to avoid.

  “She noticed you.”

  “Oh yeah?” I grinned. “What’d she say?”

  “That you come in to Taix often. That you’re good-looking and kind.”

  Surprised, I raised my brows at that last part. “Do you think I’m those things?” To me, Jewel’s opinion was the only one that mattered.

  “I told her you’re much more.”

  “I’m going to take you to the condo, and you’re not going to say no, but first I’m going to kiss you.” My eyes broadcasting my intent, I tightened my grip on her arms. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

  Truthfully, I’d been thinking about a whole lot more, but we’d start with a kiss.

  “Here?” she asked.

  “Here. Now. I want the world to know you’re mine, Jewel.”

  “Am I?”

  “You are. You will be if you’ll give me that privilege. There’s no other for me but you. But we can try to keep it secret. We might manage it for a while. There’s a circus that comes along with my life and being a public figure. It’s intrusive and a pain, as you know, but there are also perks.”

  “You.”

  I grinned big. Her saying that lightened the weight that had crushed me since she left.

  Her gaze fixed on my mouth, she reached up and traced my lips with her thumb. Desire roared in my ears, and love for her thundered in my heart.

  “From the beginning,” I said, my voice low, “you made me feel like I mattered. Just me.”

  “You made me feel the same way.” Smiling softly, her gaze locked on mine, she lifted onto her toes.

  I framed her face and lowered my head. A bolt of intense emotion jolted me as our mouths connected. Plunging my hands into her silky hair, I cradled her head gently while I ravaged her delicate mouth. Deep, deep, I sipped from the well. Tasting her. Reveling in her. Showing her without restraint that she was the center of my world. Then I pulled back, swiping my tongue gently across the lips that were swollen from my passion.

  Withdrawing my hands from her hair, I lifted my head to stare in awe at the beautiful woman I held. Her lids fluttering, she opened her eyes, and it seemed her expression contained the same sense of wonder.

  ***

  Jewel

  “Where’s the TV?” I asked, my eyes wide as I stared at my painting on the wall of his condo. He’d hung it where the flat screen had been.

  “You didn’t watch it. And I don’t really.” Holding me from behind, he linked his hands across my abdomen and softly kissed the side of my neck.

  Warmth flowed through me. Comforting warmth, but other warmth too. It simmered beneath his hands. Even through the denim of my jeans, I registered the press of each of his fingers into my skin. The tips pointed to where I already ached.

  “I’d rather sit outside,” he said. “Play my guitar while you paint, and talk to you. And I want . . . I mean, I hope that soon you’ll consider inviting Cam to come to the condo and stay with us.”

  “Rush.” I spun in his arms and searched his gaze. “What are you saying?”

  “That I want you to live here with me.” He pressed a finger to my parted lips, his eyes glowing with intensity. “Don’t say it’s too soon. If I hadn’t screwed up, you’d already be here.”

  “You don’t know that,” I whispered beneath his fingers.

  “I do. And so do you. It’s there in your painting, how we belong together.”

  It was. He was right. I didn’t argue.

  He moved his hand to cup my cheek. “I had a Christmas present for you too, that I never had a chance to give you.”

  “What was that?”

  “A key to the condo. Move in with me, Jewel. Share my life.”

  My eyes burned with the pressure of tears, along with the desire to give him what he wanted. What I wanted.

  “I’m not ready,” I said softly.

  “All right.” His eyes darkened in disappointment, and he dropped his hand to my shoulder. “I understand.”

  “Maybe you don’t. I love it here with you. I want to stay. I just need to consider more carefully before I take that leap.”

  “You’re afraid. Because of what I did.”

  “Yes, because of what it did to me. Because of what you mean to me. I love you, Rush. I can’t turn it off. I can’t stop it.”

  “Neither can I, baby. The difference between me and you, though, is that I don’t want to stop it.”

  He framed my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. The pads were rough against my skin, his silver ring cold. The contrasts were more than soothing. They felt familiar. They felt right. He felt right, but I truly was afraid.

  The way I felt about him was big. Wild. Consuming.

  And he seemed to read my mind.

  “I want to crank up the heat. The passion. Will you let me, Jewel?” His eyes searched mine. “Will you let me make love to you?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  There was no way to stop the way I felt. With him, it had gone one way the entire time. Falling. Fast.

  I hadn’t looked for a safety net before. Shouldn’t I look for one now? Demand it?

  “Rush, I . . .”

  “You said yes, baby. I want you, so badly.” His gaze dipped to my mouth. “Don’t you want me too?” Raw need was clear in his voice, in his face, begging me not to reject him.

  I don’t do well with rejection, he’d told me before.

  I didn’t either.

  In his darkest hour, he’d been deceived into believing my affection for him was a lie. And yet here we were, together again, and there was no place I would rather be.

  Was love demanding? Could I insist on a guarantee?

  No.

  Love was giving. Receiving. Accepting. But more than anything, love was forgiving.

  “I want you. Just you.” I lifted my hands, pressing his deeper into my skin. “Make love to me, Rush. Please.”

  “Done.”

  The heat of his breath touched my mouth, then the delicious pressure of his lips sealed the deal. He kissed me like all we had was today. This moment.

  And it struck me, after all that had happened, that a moment was the only guarantee anyone was given.

  Wrapping my arms tight around his neck, I jumped into his arms. He caught me, his large hands cradling my rear.

  “Baby, baby,” he said against my mouth before stroking his tongue between my eagerly parted lips.

  I returned his passion, kissing him like he kissed me. Making him feel what he made me feel. That this was it, that he was it for me.

  Today. Tomorrow. Always.

  I raked my fingers through his thick hair, then slid them under his shirt and on his skin, running my hands over every inch of him I could reach. Up over the ridges of his abdomen, across the contours of his pecs, around the flat crowns of his nipples. Grabbing the hard slabs of his shoulders, I shivered with want when his warm hands dove into the back of my jeans.

  He broke the kiss and turned us so fast, my head spun. The walls of the hall disappeared for a second as he whipped my T-shirt over my head. His fingers immediately hooked i
nto the back clasp of my bra. It hit the floor at the foot of the bed, right before my ass hit the mattress.

  “Lay back,” he said, his gaze dark.

  While I scooted backward in the bed, kicking off my flip-flops, he undid the button on my jeans. Watching me, he slowly lowered the zipper.

  Rush bent over me, shirtless? His warm fingers skimming my silk panties?

  I nearly came. Only knowing how much better it would be with him inside me staved the need.

  “Rush, I’m close. It’s been so long.”

  “I lie awake in the night, remembering how you feel. How you sound.” His gaze hot, he tugged off each leg of my jeans, leaving me naked on the bed except for a scrap of silk.

  Wet silk. And me underneath throbbing as I watched him unhook his belt and unbutton his jeans.

  “I remember too,” I said. “I feel so empty. I ache. I ache so much, it hurts.”

  “Does it hurt now?” He dropped his jeans and boxers, his focus now on where I throbbed, and put a knee to the bed and his hands on my thighs. His grip was warm and firm.

  “Yes.”

  When he cupped my pussy through the wet silk, I hissed and lifted my pelvis into his palm. He rotated it, grinding, the way I would around his cock if he were inside me.

  Past the point of caring, I begged. “Take them off.”

  “Gladly.” He lowered his head.

  He licked a wet path along the top edge of my panties from one hip bone to the other, then took the silk between his teeth and yanked it down my legs. Panting, I reached for his cock, even as he spread apart my thighs and positioned between them.

  “Guide me home, baby.”

  He bucked in my hand as I wrapped my fingers around his hard cock, already sheathed.

  “Jewel . . .” He exhaled my name on a breath that lifted the hair around my face as he filled me, his weight on his hands dipping the mattress on either side of me. “So good.”

  He pulled out, whispering, “You’re so good.” Then he pushed in. “You feel so good.”

  “You feel better than good.”

  Digging in my heels, I lifted my hips, savoring the back-and-forth glide of his cock and the brilliance of how perfectly he filled me. His weight bearing down on me, his chiseled chest to my breasts, he moved in and out, his rhythm steady, his strokes deep, our damp skin sliding together.

  “Baby, open for me.” His mouth lowered to mine as he moved.

  When I parted my lips, his tongue slipped inside. He fed me his passion, and I gave him my need. Harder, he pumped his cock into me. Deeper and faster, his tongue lashed mine.

  I surrendered to it all . . . to him, to us.

  My hips lifted and my fingers dug into his tight ass as his hands tunneled beneath mine to absorb the shock of each penetrating thrust. Again and again, until I turned my head to cry out it was so good.

  “Jewel!”

  He roared my name, stiffening inside me, the razor edge of his need slicing over the fine edge of my desire.

  I came. I came so hard, and he was right there with me. The one who had the power to shatter me also had the power to put me back together.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  * * *

  Rush

  “Stay tonight,” I said, coming up behind Jewel after we showered together, and she nodded.

  I draped my arms around her, liking the way we looked in the mirror. Her with one of my towels twisted into a knot between her lush breasts, me with mine knotted at the waist. Her here with me.

  “I hate that bed without you,” I said as my reflected gaze met hers, watching her lips lift and her golden eyes sparkle. “I missed that mouth.”

  I gently turned her head so I could kiss her. Tasting myself on her tongue gave me a surge of satisfaction. She was mine. Right now, she was mine.

  Day by day, hour by hour, I would convince her. Every day was what I was after.

  “You gonna do that lotion thing?” Moving my hands to her hips, I squeezed, frowning at the thick cotton that kept me from feeling her warm, silky skin. “Put on one of my shirts.”

  “I will.” Her face broke out into a full smile that tilted the ground beneath my feet. It had been tilted with me sliding more and more under her spell from the very start.

  “I’ll pull on some jeans.” I gentled my possessive caveman tone. “Grab a guitar. You get your paints. I’ll meet you outside on the porch.”

  Within a few minutes that seemed too long, she joined me with a canvas under her arm. She set it on the easel that remained where she’d left it, in limbo like me without her in my life.

  “Good one.” I nodded, approving of her shirt choice.

  “You ever see Dylan live?” she asked.

  “Once.” My tone turned reflective. “Once was all it took. I think I got the bug back then. Or maybe everything just coalesced in my mind.”

  I strummed my guitar, putting the pieces together while her brush moved on her canvas.

  “The Gaelic melodies from my mother’s side of the family. The structure of my dad’s religion. R&B I’ve always been drawn to.”

  “I hear those influences in your music.”

  “I can see them in your brushstrokes.” I inclined my head. She had her canvas angled so I could see it.

  “Maybe so,” she said, her head cocked like it did whenever she pondered a matter analytically.

  An idea that had been percolating in my head came to the surface. I leaned over to scribble a few words in the journal my mother had given me. The first ones I had written in it.

  I turned to Jewel to share. “Your art represents my music perfectly.”

  “That’s a big compliment.”

  “It’s the way it is.” I shrugged. “Would you think about something?”

  “What?” She paused with her brush dipped in indigo blue, poised over the already colorful canvas.

  “Having one of your paintings be the cover for my next album.”

  “Oh no. I don’t think my art is worthy of your music. I’m not trained.”

  “I’m not formally educated in music. I think the best art comes from your heart, not from instruction.”

  Her head tilted. “You might be right.”

  “I’m always right.” I gave her my cocky grin, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m right about us, Jewel.”

  She didn’t speak, didn’t refute my claim. The setting sun over the water set fire to her hair.

  My heart spilled into my eyes and out of my mouth. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Pleased, I nodded. Getting there. We were getting there.

  “My Christmas present is the one I want to use. I’ve got a photo of it in my phone. I’ll show it to Timmons tomorrow.”

  ***

  “How are you holding up?” Mary Timmons asked me from across the table, a table in Jewel’s section of the restaurant. Her eyes were narrowed in concern.

  Weeks later, the mention of my mom’s passing still had the power to thrust all my emotions to the surface. Pushing them aside and keeping my expression impassive, I said, “I’m processing. Missing her. Trying to honor her memory to be a better me. Basically, I’m holding on.”

  “She’s helping you.” My boss inclined her head to where Jewel hovered nearby, a stainless-steel carafe at the ready to refill our coffee.

  “She’s helping me hold on.”

  “I thought that was the way you two were leaning the last time we met.” Mary steepled her fingers and eased back in her chair. Whether behind the massive desk in her office or across a linen-draped restaurant table, she was ever the CEO, always in the know and always in charge.

  “They aren’t just leaning. They’re there. I love her, and until I convince her that we’re solid, I stay here.”

  Mary turned her head, glancing more fully at Jewel, who steadily returned the exec’s gaze. She swiveled back. “I’d say she’s already convinced.”

  I’d say so too. But tonight, I hoped to make it official.

&n
bsp; “I’m glad to know you have someone to help you process. Losses like you’ve sustained cause most to lose their way.”

  I nodded, recognizing the truth in that. “She’s helped me find it.”

  “That’s my assessment. You’re a different man than you were the last time we spoke. And your music . . .” As she shook her head, her straight brown hair skimmed her shoulders, the only part of her that seemed free and easy. “It’s taken a turn I really like. In fact, it’s incredible.”

  “Thank you.” Dipping my head in response to Mary’s praise, I pulled in a breath as my heart raced with excitement. I looked to Jewel, eager to share.

  “Would you like her to join us?”

  “Yes, I would. I have something I’d like to run by you that involves her.”

  “And I as well.” Mary turned her head with her finger raised. “Jewel, could you sit with us a moment? I’ll explain to your manager that it was at my request. No need to worry.”

  My girl skillfully refilled our cups before taking a seat beside me. Her hand trembled, and I clasped it in mine before she could put it under the table.

  “Jewel’s an artist.” I slid my cell toward Mary. The display revealed the painting of the two of us.

  “Stunning,” Mary said, lifting her gaze.

  “I want that to be my next cover.”

  She nodded, considering. “It would certainly mesh well with your new sound.”

  “And maybe a different one for the wrap for the vinyl?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t pushing my luck.

  “Artists of her caliber are expensive.” Mary focused on Jewel. “Would two thousand be too little for the sunset? An additional two for an original for the wrap?”

  “Too much.” Jewel’s eyes were wide and more beautiful even than the gold in her sunset. “It’s a gift. He’s done far too much for me already.”

  “There are no scales, Jewel,” I told her. “Just me and you and the love that’s between us.”

  “Those are the words you wrote in your journal last night,” she whispered.

  “If you want it to be a gift, I won’t rob you of the joy of giving,” I said firmly.

  “You remembered.”