Lost Weekend (A Rocked Story)

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Lost Weekend (A Rocked Story) Page 1

by Clara Bayard




  Lost Weekend - A Rocked Story

  By Clara Bayard

  Copyright © 2013 by Clara Bayard

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  www.ClaraBayard.com

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  This short story takes place between the events of Rocked to the Core and Hard Rocked.

  When Joe surprises Liss with a trip to New York for just the two of them, she's over the moon. He's thought of everything, and a little time alone is exactly what the couple needs. But when the trapping of his fame intrude and the reality of dating a rock star hits her again, Liss risks falling into bad old habits - running away when things get hard.

  But a chance meeting with an old friend changes everything and provides new perspective, reminding her of what really matters - the love that she and Joe built together. It's stronger than any petty argument, and worth fighting for, even if the whole world conspires against them.

  LOST WEEKEND

  I yawned loudly before climbing into the back of the taxi.

  “That wasn’t very promising for our romantic weekend, babe,” Joe said with a smile as he slid in on the other side.

  “Sorry. Early flight, very little sleep.”

  He pulled me across the seat so our bodies were touching from shoulder to leg. “I don’t mind. I’m just glad we’re here.”

  “Me too.” And I was. After Joe’s band had finished recording their album, they’d headed out to the west coast for two months – doing promotion and re-recording and who knows what else. I’d planned to visit, but the timing never worked out. I’d missed him desperately, and even though I could barely keep my eyes open, my heart was leaping from just being close to him again.

  He turned his head and planted a soft kiss on my lips before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of fabric.

  “What’s that?”

  Joe flashed his crooked grin, the one that turned me to jelly every time. “A blindfold. For your surprise.”

  “What? We’re in New York. It was on my plane ticket. And a lot of signs. The surprise is ruined.”

  He chuckled. “Just go with me on this, okay?”

  I arched an eyebrow.

  “Don’t you trust me, Liss?”

  “Generally.”

  “Babe, you left your whole life behind to go on tour with me. You should be willing to trust me for half an hour in a car.”

  “Fine,” I said with a shrug. He had a point. Granted, the road hadn’t been entirely smooth, but after almost a year of drama, we were together and in love. And I did trust him. With my heart and my future. So I shut my eyes and bent my head to let him blindfold me.

  “Good girl. Now, sit back and relax. I have to make a quick call but before you know it we’ll be there and I’m all yours for four days.”

  I smiled. “Okay.” I pushed my curly hair out of the way and rested my head on his shoulder.

  Joe wrapped an arm around my waist and pushed his hand under the hem of my shirt, splaying his fingers over my skin. His hands were cool, but as always, his touch made me flush as sensual heat spread out from the point of contact.

  I briefly considered doing something about that, but I felt him shift and then the soft beeps as he dialed a number. With a tiny sigh that was part disappointment but mostly exhaustion, I snuggled in closer and began to drift off to the sound of his voice.

  Barely conscious, I considered how bizarre and wonderful my life had become. I was in the back of a cab with the lead singer of a hugely popular rock band, after getting flown first class to New York City for what Joe called a “Lost Weekend,” a few days for us to hide from the world. It wasn’t the original meaning of the phrase, but I’d take it. So much of his time was spent surrounded by other band members and their management and fans; it was amazing to get away from everyone. Hell, it was great to be in a normal sized car without the gang. Great and quiet.

  I woke to the sensation of Joe’s lips on my neck. I sat up straight and turned my head a few times quickly, momentarily confused about why I couldn’t see anything.

  His throaty chuckled reminded me. “Relax. We’re here.”

  “Can I take the blindfold off?”

  “Not just yet.”

  I frowned. “How long was I out?”

  “Forty minutes or so. I would have let you sleep, but the meter is running.”

  I giggled. “You’re a rock star, what are we doing in a normal cab anyway?”

  “Not this weekend. Here and now I’m just Joe. Spending a couple days in a great city with the hottest girl in the world.”

  I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. It had taken me a while to learn to trust that he truly appreciated my curvy, wobbly body, but I’d never really understand it. “Okay, Romeo. No need to lay it on that thick.” I twisted and winced, sore from sleeping sitting up like that. “Get me out of this car and into a bathtub. There will be a tub wherever we are, right?”

  “Of course.” With that Joe patted my hand and told me to wait. The car door opened and he climbed out. A few seconds later he was next to me on the other side, helping me from the car.

  Holding his hand to keep from stumbling, I could feel sun on my face. From the smells and sounds, we were in the city for sure.

  “I see you trying to figure out where we are. Settle down.” He held my arms and turned me slightly, big calloused fingers scraping softly on my bare skin. There was a tug behind my head and he said, “Okay, open your eyes.”

  I blinked in the sudden light, and then gasped. We were standing in front of the Franklin-Rose Hotel. One of the oldest and grandest hotels in New York, it had been closed for over a decade due to a long legal battle that had spilled over into violence over ownership between the intermarried members of the Franklin and Rose families. I knew about the place because, like everyone else, I’d followed the trial of Marcus Rose on television and online all year, and even wrote an article about it for the free paper I freelanced with on occasion.

  “Oh my god!”

  Joe grinned. “Good surprise, right?”

  “Great surprise.” I laughed and threw my arms around him, not caring that a sidewalk full of people could see. I even tuned out the photographer snapping our picture. How did they always manage to find him?

  “I can’t believe you remembered.”

  “Babe, no matter how busy I am, I’ll never forget anything you say to me.”

  I kissed him hard on the lips and grinned. “Are we visiting or staying here?”

  “Please. I wouldn’t bring you here just for a glance around the place. We’re booked in a suite for the weekend.”

  I screeched with excitement, grabbed his hand, and dragged him inside. We sped past a doorman, through the ornately filigreed doors I knew had been perfectly restored from their original state. Into the lobby, where the bright marbled walls and floors nearly glowed. Up to the front desk, also restored from the early days of the hotel, it was tall and inviting, the warm mahogany somehow overcoming the immensity of its size.

  But before I could say anything, a young woman rounded the counter quickly, smoothing her dark hair back into a bun. Stiletto heels clicking, slim legs shifting gracefully under the pencil skirt of her suit, she was my physical opposite. Someone I would have once been nervous around, especially with Joe.

  “Mr. Hawk,” she said, smiling at him. “Welcome to the Franklin-Rose. I’m very sorry I was unable to meet you outside. My name is Stephanie, one of the hotel’s-.”

  “No problem. Look, Stephanie, no need to stand on ceremony. I’m here for a quiet trip.”

  She nodded sharply. “Of course.”

  “If you can get us checked in I’d really appreciate it.�


  “Already done, sir. I’ve got your keys right here and a bellman will deliver your luggage shortly. If you’ll follow me I’ll show you up to your suite.”

  Joe and I exchanged a look.

  “There’s no need. Tell us the number and point us at the elevators.”

  “I…well. Certainly. Suite 913.” She seemed baffled at the idea that Joe didn’t require more special treatment and toadying.

  I stifled a giggle.

  “Here you are, sir.” She handed over a folder, presumably containing our keys. “My cell phone number is included, should you,” she glanced at me, “either of you require anything.”

  “Great,” I said. “Off we go.”

  “Yes, of course. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you right now? There’s champagne and other refreshments in your room, but feel free to call room service for additional items.”

  I rolled my eyes and was turning away when Joe spoke.

  “Actually there is one thing you could help us with.”

  “Yes?”

  “Please try to keep the paparazzi away. And if you can’t, I’d appreciate another route out of here. I’m not here for publicity.”

  Stephanie nodded. “We’ll do our best, sir.”

  “Great. Thanks.” He smiled at her and I could see the effect it had. But I knew the truth. This was his public smile, the one that charmed the masses. But it was nothing on the real smile he rarely showed to anyone but those closest to him. It seemed some things would never change, and that made me very happy.

  Upstairs in our suite, my giddy excitement had completely overwhelmed how tired I was. Looking out over the view of the Park, I could barely believe it.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, Liss.”

  I turned and stepped into Joe’s embrace. “I’m so happy.”

  “All it took was a swanky hotel. So much for the regular girl waitress, eh?”

  I smacked him softly on the chest. “Shut up. I’m happy because I’m with you. And sure, this beautiful place doesn’t hurt. But we could be in the diner or a bus station or the mouth of a volcano and I’d be just as pleased.”

  “Good. Want a drink?”

  “Nope. I just want to stay right here with you holding me.”

  “All weekend?”

  “All my life.”

  Joe smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “Is that a proposal?”

  I blushed. “No! I didn’t mean…”

  He guffawed and pulled away enough to look into my eyes. “I’m just fucking with you, Liss.”

  “As usual.”

  “You love it,” he said playfully.

  “I love you.”

  “Good.”

  I laughed. “Good? You’re supposed to say it back, dummy.”

  “Bossy. I love you being bossy. And silly. And happy. And everything you ever are. I love you, babe.”

  Even after all this time, just hearing that made my stomach flip. The lead singer of Dream Defiled loved me. Diner waitress and soon-to-be college student, me. And even better than that, Joe loved me. The real Joe. The sweet, sexy, sensitive, funny, supportive Joe. And he was all mine. The rest of the planet could enjoy his handsome face and fantastic voice. His stage presence and talent. But his heart was just for me. And mine for him.

  I shook my head, overwhelmed, and pinched myself on the arm.

  “What the hell did you do that for?”

  I looked away, embarrassed he’d noticed. “I just wanted to make sure all of this is real.”

  “It is. But if you want to get pinched, please allow me.”

  “What? No.”

  He leered comically, waggling his fingers in my face. “Come on. You know you want it.”

  “Do not pinch me.”

  “I’m gonna. You can’t stop me.”

  I giggled and ran away. Joe followed, and chased me around the living room and dining area, through to the bedroom. I was steps from the massive bathroom when he caught me. But instead of pinching, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me tight against his body, and kissed me deeply.

  With a sigh I sank into it. His slim frame belied the strength in him. Tightly muscled all over, I could feel him flexing against me as his hands roamed my back and his tongue drove between my lips.

  “Now it’s perfect,” I murmured against his mouth.

  “Come to bed. It gets better.”

  And it did. When we went over to the bed Joe started undressing. Even after all this time together I had to stop and watch. His body was all lean muscle. In loose clothes he looked skinny, but he was so strong. From the sculpted line of his shoulders to his flat stomach and all the way down to his taut calves.

  “Am I doing this alone?” he asked playfully as I sat and stared.

  “Not a chance.”

  “Good.” After shedding his pants and releasing the thick evidence of his arousal, he helped me tug off my clothes. When I was down to a bra and panties he tumbled us down onto the bed, slipping naturally between my thighs.

  Joe kisses me on the lips lightly, but I could feel the desire building in him and he didn’t stay there long. His mouth roamed down my neck to the deep hollow between my breasts. He licked me there once and then pulled the cups of my bra down on both sides before swiping a calloused thumb over each tip, making each pucker and my back arch.

  “Fuck, babe. I can never get enough of you. Every inch of soft, creamy skin so responsive to me. You’re amazing.”

  “I’m not,” I said reflexively. It was hard to see what he did. Chubby in my eyes, lush curves in his.

  “I’ll show you,” he whispered. His hands skimmed down over my stomach and out to my hips. He traced the roundness with light pressure, sending tingles to all of my nerve-endings. My heart was beating faster as his lips met my belly. He kissed and nibbled, licked and nudged until I was breathless.

  “See? You’re flushed and dewy. So beautiful.”

  And there, under the tender ministrations of his hands and mouth, I did feel beautiful. Ripe and plump in a sensual way. My core tightened and my hips shifted.

  “Do you want me?”

  I nodded and bit my lip.

  “I should make you wait. Taste every bit of your skin. But god, with you looking up at me like that, I can’t.”

  Joe growled low in his throat and reared up. He slid my panties off and unhooked my bra. Grabbing a foil packet from his pants he prepared himself and I nearly panted with desire. His fingers found my damp folds and teased there, softly searching.

  I breathed his name and he entered me, slowly, gently. My eyes closed and I surrendered to the moment. Being with Joe was like coming home. Nothing ever felt so right.

  “Babe, look at me.”

  I forced myself to, and was overwhelmed. The love and heat in his eyes stunned and inspired me. I hooked my legs around his knees and slid my hands up his arms. Joined completely, I thought I might cry. It was silly and I should have been used to it by now, but making love to Joe invaded every part of my heart and soul. The slightest touch could make me moan, and in moments like this, when every boundary was down and nothing existed in the world but us, I felt alive in a way I’d never experienced before.

  As if he could hear my thoughts, Joe kissed me on the lips, centering me. Focused again, we moved together as if we’d never been apart. My pulse pounded and my hips undulated. His tongue swept over mine and his fingers dug into my skin.

  Pleasure exploded and I cried out, drawing him closer to me. Joe shuddered and collapsed on me. Clasped together in a heap, the only sound in the room was our breathing.

  “Wow,” I muttered.

  Joe laughed and I could feel it rumble down his body. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He nipped at my neck and I felt him growing hard again, and I understood.

  Hours later we were cuddled up in bed together, exhausted and blissful.

  “So,” Joe said. “What do you want to
do while we’re here?”

  “Aside from more sex? Lots more sex?”

  “That goes without saying. Eighty percent of our time will be spent having sex. That leaves a little time for other things.”

  “Eighty, huh? Think you’ve got what it takes?”

  He smiled and leaned down to kiss my bare shoulder. “In about ten minutes I’ll show you.”

  “Give me thirty. We need to eat something or we’ll be too weak for round three.”

  “Four, babe. Next one is four.”

  I counted in my head. “Right, sorry. Forgot one.”

  Joe gaped at me. “I’m truly offended.”

  Grinning, I rolled my eyes. “If your ego isn’t too bruised, maybe you can get us some food?”

  “Your wish is my command.” He climbed out of bed naked and walked out of the room. I watched his strong back and tight butt retreat before collapsing back onto the pile of pillows, certain of being the luckiest girl in the whole world.

  There was a lot of noise in the kitchen area and some cursing before Joe reappeared. He’d managed to pile an impressive amount of food in his arms and only dropped a few of them on his way back to me. I filed away a reminder to clean those up if I ever got out of bed. For all Joe’s impressive abilities, seeing mess was not one of them. He could walk through a room carpeted in clothes and books and papers and notice nothing. If he ever came off the road long enough to buy a place to really live, my housewarming gift would be a cleaning service.

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I brought everything.”

  I grinned. “So I see.” In this moment, arms full of candy and cakes and sodas and who knows what else, as he carefully shifted the pile onto a bedside table, Joe looked different. Almost like a regular twenty-something guy, his trademark spiky hair a mess and what looked like ice cream dripping down his forearm.

  “So, what’ll it be? Sweet or savory?”

  “Start savory and then go sweet.”

  “Genius. Beautiful and smart.”

  I laughed and snagged a plate of cheese and crackers from his hand.

  “Those are the weirdest cookie or cracker things I’ve ever seen.”

 

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