Sweet Temptation: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 3)
Page 1
Sweet Temptation
A Players Rockstar Romance (Players #3)
Jaine Diamond
Contents
Get VIP Access!
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Books by Jaine Diamond
Enjoy This Book?
Playlist
About the Author
Copyright © 2020 Jaine Diamond
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, uploaded or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The publisher and author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks, and word marks mentioned in this book.
Published by DreamWarp Publishing Ltd.
First ebook edition: June 2020
ASIN: B081ZFYSZ8
V_1.1
Cover design: DreamWarp Publishing Ltd.
Jaine Diamond Online
www.jainediamond.com
Get VIP Access!
Diamond Club
Join the Diamond Club mailing list to get freebies, advance teasers and more. You’ll get Dirty Like Us (Dirty #0.5) FREE in both ebook and audiobook when you sign up.
Jaine Diamond’s VIPs
Join Jaine Diamond’s VIPs (private Facebook readers group), where YOU are the rock star. Chat with other readers, get behind-the-scenes updates from Jaine and enjoy exclusive giveaways.
Author’s Note
This book, Sweet Temptation (Players #3), is the third novel in the Players series—a rockstar romance series about the members of the rock band “the Players,” and the women and men who love them.
This is a spin-off series from the Dirty rockstar romance series (and the eleventh book in this world). Some characters and storylines in this book had their genesis in the Dirty series and the previous Players books, and if you want every detail of the crazy-romantic rock ’n’ roll adventure so far, you’ll want to read the Dirty series first.
If you are new to my books and would like to check out the Dirty series, I recommend you start with Dirty Like Me (Dirty #1), OR you can start with Dirty Like Us (Dirty #0.5), which you can get free in both ebook AND audiobook form, by signing up to my Diamond Club mailing list.
I write each book as a standalone, so that it can, well, stand on its own… But I do consider the books in the Dirty series and the Players series “interconnected standalones,” meaning you could pick and choose which ones you read, in any order, but you will definitely get the most out of the series, the individual books and the relationships within if you read the books consecutively.
Reading order so far
The complete Dirty series:
Dirty Like Me (Dirty #1)
Dirty Like Us (Dirty #0.5) - Free
Dirty Like Brody (Dirty #2)
A Dirty Wedding Night (Dirty #2.5)
Dirty Like Seth (Dirty #3)
Dirty Like Dylan (Dirty #4)
Dirty Like Jude (Dirty #5)
Dirty Like Zane (Dirty #6)
The Players series:
Hot Mess (Players #1)
Filthy Beautiful (Players #2)
Sweet Temptation (Players #3)
With love from beautiful Vancouver (the home of Dirty and the Players!),
Jaine
Chapter One
Summer
“I’m here, bitch!” I announced. “Let the party commence.”
“Summer!” Elle swept me into a welcoming hug.
Of course, the party had already started, long ago.
I was late.
You might think I’d enjoy showing up as fashionably late as the next diva, but in reality, I was anal-retentively punctual for work related events. Professionalism was one of my hallmarks, along with my sass, my liberal flirting, and my ability to musically kick ass.
The last twenty hours or so of my life had been a total shit show, so the lateness wasn’t completely my fault. But I’d tried to make up for it with smiles, strategic compliments, and a lavishing of hugs as I swept through the room.
Now that I’d reached my destination—my longtime friend, Elle Delacroix—I could stop faking it, at least.
“Where’ve you been?” she asked me. “I thought you were coming at ten.”
“I was.”
I dropped my purse on the hightop table she was standing at, right next to a gorgeous, well-dressed couple; Brody Mason and his wife, Jessa. They were turned away from us, talking to some people, and hadn’t noticed me yet.
The music was loud. The restaurant was packed, pretty much standing room only here in the lounge. VIP guests were mingling and broody security guys were casually hovering.
Including Elle’s bodyguard, Flynn.
Ugh. I’d glimpsed him hanging out in the shadows across the room, keeping a vigilant eye on her. She was, after all, a rock star.
I’d come alone. I still had the luxury of doing that, if I wanted to. I wasn’t nearly as famous as Elle was. Yet.
I glanced around. The entire upscale restaurant had been booked out tonight for this party, a listening party for the debut album from a local pop singer who’d been “discovered” on a reality show, scored herself a record deal, and was about to explode out of the music scene here in Vancouver. I’d heard she was a real spoiled princess (i.e., brat) in person. She was here tonight, and I’d given her a hug on my first pass through the room in search of Elle, but I honestly didn’t care about that.
I was here for Elle. She’d been invited to sing guest vocals on one of the tracks on the album; Brody, incredible manager that he was, had set that up. And while Elle was at home, taking care of her new baby, she’d managed to squeeze it in—like the superstar she was.
“When’s your song playing?” I asked her, dreading the answer. But things in the rock star world were always late, right? Maybe I hadn’t missed it.
“You missed it,” she said. “They played it at exactly ten-fifteen, as promised.”
“Shit.”
“It’s fine. You’ve already heard it. And you’re here now.”
All true. But that didn’t make me feel any better. This was a shining moment for Elle—a rock star who didn’t get to rock this year because her band, Dirty, was on a massive world tour without her, while she was home on mommy duty.
“I’m so sorry I missed it, babe. Was it fun?”
“It was so fun. Everyone loved
it.”
“Of course they did. Where’s Ashley?”
“He came and went. With Xander.”
“Seriously? I missed your song and my band?”
“Well, Brody’s still here,” she offered.
I glanced over at him. Elle’s manager was now also my manager, and while I knew Brody would appreciate that I’d put in an appearance, even late, I would’ve actually liked to be here with the members of my new band—the Players. This party was supposed to be one of many public appearances that Ash, Xander and I would be making together before we went into the studio next year to record our first album.
Looking around, though, I could see why they’d ditched this event as quickly as they’d arrived. Wasn’t really their scene. My boys were rock ’n’ roll, and this party was not.
I sighed and focused on Elle. Long, platinum-blonde hair and short silver dress. Slick makeup. Fabulous manicure. She’d brought her A game tonight, as usual. She’d had baby Emma only five months ago, and other than the increase in breast size, you’d never know it.
This woman put the rock into rock star mommy.
“I don’t even have the will to tell you how good you look right now,” I informed her. “Please don’t make me.”
“Uh… okay?” She smirked, perusing my curve-skimming sapphire-blue cocktail dress. “You look incredible yourself.”
I smoothed my hair. “I feel incredibly off my game.”
“Well, the waitress is right there. We’ll get you a drink.”
“I don’t think this is something alcohol can fix. Erase, maybe.”
“Uh-oh.” Now she looked concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just having a bad day. Pull up a martini and let me regale you with—”
Elle screamed, cutting me off. She grabbed a menu off our table and slammed it on my back. Several times. Heat flared briefly behind me… and that was it.
I didn’t even have time to scream.
The smell of burnt hair wafted through the air. “Holy shit,” Elle panted, like she’d just run into a burning building and carried me out on her back.
I glanced behind me. A few people I didn’t know were sitting around a hightop table, staring at me, their mouths dangling open. A candle burned innocently on the table.
And now, people all around us were staring. Brody and Jessa were gaping.
“What happened?” Brody demanded.
Flynn suddenly loomed over us, sweating, like he’d just sprint across the room. “You alright?”
I blinked at Elle’s bodyguard. “Did my hair just catch on fire?”
“What?” Jessa said. I supposed she and Brody had missed the entirety of the spectacle.
“You’re okay,” Elle told me, which didn’t really answer my question.
“Of course it did,” I said. “My hair just caught on fire. Because this is exactly the kind of day that my hair would catch on fire.”
“It’s out now.” Elle took my hand and gave me a reassuring squeeze.
A waitress had appeared next to us, staring. “Are you okay?”
I blinked at her. “I’m just wonderful. How are you?”
“Uh… okay. Can I get you anything? It’s on the house.”
“Thanks.” I plucked a martini off the tray she was holding and took a swig. Probably not what she meant, but fuck it.
“Ladies’ room,” Elle ordered. “Now.” Then she tugged me away from the table. Brody had his mouth open, like he was about to say something, but we vanished too fast.
Flynn came with us, of course.
Apparently, word that a woman had just caught on fire spread fast in a high-end restaurant. Because a security guy, a bartender, and a managerial type all intercepted us on the way to the washrooms, asking if I was okay and offering food and drink on the house. I declined politely, but finally agreed to let the manager, who’d cornered us in the hallway, bring out a complimentary platter of crab cakes for our table.
I didn’t even like crab cakes.
“See?” Elle said, tugging me into the ladies’ room. Inside was an elegant sitting room, which we at least had to ourselves, for now. “Your day is looking up. You just got free crab cakes.” She drew me over to the mirrored wall, where I took a close look at my hair.
“My day is almost over,” I pointed out. “It’s after eleven. Can I go home now?”
“Since when are you ever home before midnight?”
“Since I’m having a shitty day, and decided to throw a cheer-myself-up party at my place?”
“Ah.”
I pawed at the back of my dark hair, trying to find the burnt part. I’d worn it loose and wavy around my shoulders tonight, and somehow it looked just fine. “How bad is it? Do I need to artfully shave my head now?”
“It’s not bad. You just started smoking… I don’t even know if the flame actually caught.”
“Well, thank you for beating me with a menu and saving my life.”
“I panicked. Sorry if I whacked you a bit hard.”
I sighed and took another swig of the martini, which I still had in-hand. “I feel cursed, Elle. I swear, someone is sticking pins in a tiny little Summer doll today.”
“You would make an amazing doll,” she offered. “I see branded products in your future, DJ Summer.”
“Thanks,” I said, halfheartedly, where normally I would’ve eaten that up. “You know that feeling when a day is going all wrong? Like maybe you should’ve just gone back to bed and slept through ’til the next day, because everything was so fucked?”
"Sure.” Elle sat down on one of the upholstered chairs. “For me, that was pretty much every day for about a year after Jesse broke up with me.”
“Well, shit.” I turned to her, leaning on the counter behind me and setting the drink down.
She shrugged. “I’m just saying. One day isn’t bad.”
“Oh, it’s pretty bad.” I didn’t mean to make light of her past heartbreak, but at least that was in the past. “First of all, it started at like two in the morning. After my show last night, someone stole my wardrobe right out from under Sledge.”
“What! How?”
“What do you mean, how? They stole it. While he was loading up his truck behind the venue. One minute my equipment is there, all stacked up and ready to go, and the next, my wardrobe case has taken a walk into oblivion.” I was already on my way home from the show, with friends, when it happened. Sledge, my longtime roadie-slash-technician had called me practically in tears, he felt so bad about it.
I felt so bad for him, I couldn’t even be upset.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Elle said.
“Uh, what were you gonna do about it?”
“Well, nothing. But… moral support?”
“Whatever. It’s insured. I’m sure whoever stole it probably thought they were making off with a way better haul than a bunch of clothes. But a lot of it was custom outfits and stuff I’d collected over time. And there was some jewelry… including the diamond ring my dad gave me when I turned eighteen.”
“Oh, Summer.”
“I know. I should never have left it. But I was all sweaty after the show and I took it off. Honestly, I’d rather they stole my equipment. It would be easier to replace. I don’t think I can even bear to tell my dad.”
“Shit. Any chance you can get it back?”
“I doubt it. We called the police, but they couldn’t do anything but take a report. Whoever it was was fucking fast and long gone.”
“Babe, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, there’s more,” I told her. “I was woken up at like five in the morning, you know, after an hour of sleep, when my neighbor’s house alarm went off. It was so fucking loud, I couldn’t go back to sleep after, so I gave up and got up… to discover that I was out of coffee. The day pretty much went downhill from there.”
Elle cringed sympathetically.
“Then Yancy called this morning to tell me we had three shows cancelled in New York in December because
the club only wanted me on the bill for their first annual pre-Christmas party if I was coming again next year, and hell no, I’m not playing some fucking club next Christmas. By next Christmas if I’m not on a world tour with my band, rocking my ass off, I want you to cancel my career.”
“And… how would I do that?”
“I don’t know. You’re a superstar. You’ll find a way.”
“And why would you want to cancel your career?”
“I’m just saying. If I’m not a rock star by next Christmas, I’ve done something horribly wrong and I don’t deserve to call myself a professional musician anymore.”
“I think your worldview is a little skewed right now.”
“My worldview may be skewed right now, but I see my path clearly. I love being a DJ, but I’m done, Elle. I’m so done with Yancy and these gigs where they treat me like I’m disposable.” I was more than done. I had only a handful of gigs to fulfill for Yancy, my former booking agent, and after that… Rock and roll, here I come.