One Night Stand with the Rockstar (With the Rockstar #1) (rockstar romance series)

by Fawkes, Ana W.

  “That was music,” Slader said. “If you play that shit you just played tonight... you won’t see another show. Do you play the notes or do you play the song?”

  Skren swallowed, even more nervous. “I’m going to play the song.”

  “Good man,” Slader said. “Do you want some coke?”

  Skren’s eyes looked left to right. “No...”

  “Good. I don’t have any. Do you want a drink? A groupie to fuck before the show?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I don’t have those either. Play a good show and I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.” Slader bent down and put a strong hand to Skren’s boney shoulder. “I’ll get you so high and find you a woman so beautiful that you’ll forget about life. About living. About everything.”

  Skren nodded.

  Fear entered his eyes.

  Exactly what Slader wanted.

  Fear.

  He loved fear.

  He stood and pointed to the door.

  Skren hurried to leave and Jerry came back in.

  “Make sure he’s cared for tonight,” Slader said. “Anything he wants. Let him kill himself for all I give a fuck.”

  “Is he any good?” Jerry asked.

  “Who actually ever is?”

  Jerry nodded. “I have someone else out here. A woman.”

  Slader perked up. “Who is it?”

  “Her name is Jessica Harpmae... to talk to you...”

  “Magazine?”

  Jerry nodded. “We talked about this.”

  “I don’t care,” Slader said.

  “She’s right outside. Waiting.”

  “Is this my problem?” Slader asked.

  “You agreed.”

  “Now I’m disagreeing.”

  “No interview?”

  “Definitely no interview.”

  “No conversation?”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “There could be,” Jerry said.

  “I’m not interested. Let me know when I can go on stage.”

  Jerry nodded and stepped from the room. Slader thought for a few seconds and then opened the door. He looked right and then left. To his right was Jerry walking down the hall. Towards the stage area. To his left was the long hall to the backdoor. He saw a woman walking. The curves of her hips called to him. He smiled. She walked slow, defeated. Losing something she thought she had.

  Now you understand, Slader thought.

  He whistled and waited for the woman to turn around.

  If I whisper, can you still hear me? Can you hear my heart? Can you love me?

  .3.

  It was soul crushing.

  Jessica saw the look on the man’s face and knew the answer wasn’t going to be what she wanted or expected. Rockstars. They made commitments and broke them all the time. Some took the stage hours late, some never took the stage at all. Some were just selfish and liked to see people suffer in any way possible.

  “I’m sorry,” Jerry said in a typical band manager I’m-pretending-I-give-a-shit voice. “Slader is going on early actually. We just don’t have time.”

  “Two minutes,” Jessica said.

  “No.”

  Jerry turned and left.

  This wasn’t a negotiation, this was a decision. A final decision.

  Jessica took the lonely walk down the hall, debating on whether to stay and see the show. She also started to think about her monthly financial report at work. When she called Mr. Plink to tell him she didn’t get the story, it would be right back to her normal duties... hell, even if she came with a story, she’d still be an assistant.

  A whistle echoed down the hall just as Jessica caught herself slowing. A feeling came over her a second before she heard the whistle. Like someone was watching her. Like someone was waiting for her.

  She looked over her shoulder and saw someone standing in the hall.

  Tall, broad, dark, and sexy.

  It was Alex Slader.

  Jessica just stood in place. Her mind spun. Do something. Say hello. Run towards him. If anything, at least channel the music fan and ask for a damn autograph.

  But Jessica couldn’t.

  “Who are you?” Slader called down the hall.

  His voice - even just talking - was deep and alluring. It matched the lyrical beauty he brought to his songs and shows.

  Jessica took a breath. She reminded herself she was meant for this. She was meant to be near Slader. To talk to him. To learn. To write something that nobody ever had before.

  “I’m Jessica,” she said. “I just wanted to introduce myself. Talk for a minute even.”

  “Come closer to me,” Slader commanded.

  And just like that Jessica felt as though her innocence was a visible badge. She thought herself to be strong willed, but not when it came to this. In fact, the last man to actually touch her body was almost six months ago. A short fling that served its purpose of attempted pleasure.

  Jessica walked towards Slader. The hall had light and of course Slader stood right under one of the lights, letting its tone glide along the muscles of his body. Slader was a wonder. His physical size. His wealth. His passion for music. He was a dream brought to life. They were the only two people in the hall and when Jessica was close enough to smell him - his clothes, his skin - she stopped and waited.

  She was entranced by the rockstar before her.

  “Look at you,” Slader said.

  His eyes were wide. Almost surprised.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Jessica gasped. “I’m here to talk...”

  “Of course,” Slader said.

  Behind Slader, voices kicked up. Jessica saw two men holding guitars talking with a third man on his knees with a flashlight in his mouth and a roll of tape in his hands. Slader looked back and then at Jessica.

  “Come in,” he said. “Talk.”

  Jessica followed the intensely sexy rockstar into the room and waited for him to direct her where to sit. He pointed to a couch and she sat. She let her bag fall to the floor. No need for a tape recorder. A notebook. Nothing. Jessica had her mind. Her eyes. And right then, she studied and began to quickly memorize the stunning features that Slader had to offer. Most pictures of him were on stage. The dark lighting offering not much of a look, leaving the mind to conjure up what the man would look like. Pictures of Slader in the studio were often at a distance, a man deep in musical thought.

  But to be here, a few feet away...

  Jessica looked at the structure of his face. The perfection of his jaw, meant for the soft touch of fingertips. The deepness of his eyes, meant to explore anything he wanted. As Jessica felt herself getting warm... and wet... she quickly looked away, needing to settle and do her job.

  “Jessica,” Slader said. “You look like a Jessica.”

  “You look like a Slader.”

  Slader smiled. “There is no other Slader.”

  “I know,” Jessica said. “That’s what I mean.”

  “Are you a fan, Jessica? Of Ashes in Vain? Or are you here to step on me... to write literary prose of the way I talk, I act, and how I will someday disappear, die alone, horde my fortune, never share my heart...”

  “I wouldn’t call it literary prose,” Jessica said. “Just a story for your fans.”

  “My fans,” Slader said. He stood up and touched his face. He walked to a piano and with one finger, he began to play notes. They were sad notes. They toyed with Jessica’s emotions a little as she wondered what else Slader could do to her with his finger... “My fans know everything already. I put it in the music. The lyrics.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Jessica said. “But what about the person?”

  “What about me?” Slader asked.

  “Tell me about this tour. This show tonight even. You’re going on early?”

  “I planned on it,” Slader said. He stopped playing and turned around. “But something else has caught my attention. Stand up, Jessica. I want to see you.”

 
Jessica had dealt with commanding musicians before. Those who thought a decent voice or fast fingers on a guitar meant they could get what they want when they wanted. Jessica knew how to diffuse it... except with Slader, she wasn’t sure where to start. She found herself standing, as directed.

  Obeying his command once would mean obeying him for the night.

  “You don’t have a notebook,” Slader said.

  “I have my mind,” Jessica said. “I want to talk to you. I’m not here to pull something out that isn’t there.”

  “Tell me what you see then,” Slader said.

  “Here?”

  “Tell me. You’re the writer. Speak to me as though you’re speaking to my fans.”

  Jessica’s mouth ran dry. All thoughts ceased. Slader reached back and tapped a few notes on the piano. His eyes grew annoyed and when his lip started to curl, Jessica knew she could possibly be in trouble.

  “It’s so sad,” Slader said. “So beautiful but you can’t speak. You’re processed, aren’t you? Designed by something else. Unable to open and explore...”

  “No,” Jessica said. “I’m just nervous.”

  Slader smiled.

  Fuck, Jessica thought.

  She didn’t realize a troubled rockstar could have such a sexy smile.

  Slader put a hand out and Jessica took it. His skin was warm, like heaven compared to the cool, clammy feel of her hand. He guided her towards him and for a second Jessica thought Slader was going to hug her.

  Instead, he moved out of the way and threw Jessica at the piano. She put her hands out and saved herself from literally crashing into it. Her hands shook and she stood in place, wondering what was going to happen next.

  “The problem with people, Jessica, is that they don’t know what they’re looking at. They see things. They hear things. But they don’t understand. That’s where I come in. I make them see and hear in a way they never thought possible. That’s why my shows are compared to a drug. To a high. To a lifestyle.”

  Jessica took a few breaths. This was her fantasy but she was there to work.

  “Okay,” Jessica said. “You want me to tell you what I see?”

  “Yes,” Slader whispered.

  He then stepped up behind her. Jessica could feel him just inches away. When he breathed she could feel it. She could taste it. When his hands touched her shoulders, Jessica’s mouth fell open and she fought hard not to moan. She wondered what would have happened if she had moaned though.

  “Close your eyes,” Slader said. “Close them tight. Forget everything.”

  Jessica listened to Slader. His hands slowly moved along her shoulders. To her arms. Then gone. A few seconds later Jessica felt the touch of Slader’s fingers at her eyes. He was making sure she had her eyes shut.

  “Tell me now,” Slader whispered.

  His body gently touched Jessica’s.

  “I see a bitter life,” Jessica said. “A life refused. The music drives the soul. It’s all we really have. Our soul. We can’t let it go too easily... so we search. We hide. We wait.”

  “Well now,” Slader said. “Isn’t that poetic?”

  “I don’t know,” Jessica said. “That’s what came to mind.”

  Slader’s hands touched Jessica’s shoulders again. Then he moved down her arms to her wrists. He gripped her wrists, his body pressed tight to hers.

  “I can’t let you go,” Slader said. “I can’t explain it, Jessica. You don’t have to trust me and what I want, but you have to obey me. Tonight.”

  Jessica felt the hardness of Slader’s body. The muscle of his chest. The hardness between his legs. She was sopping wet, her panties feeling uncomfortable as they pulled up into her. She curled her toes, wanting relief. No matter how hard she tried to hide the pleasure already mounting, her breathing gave it away.

  “You’re turned on right now,” Slader said. “It’s because you’ve been waiting, haven’t you?”

  “Slader... you’re a rockstar...”

  “I’ve waited too,” Slader said. “All the women, they were instinctive need, Jessica.”

  Jessica wasn’t sure what to do right then. She couldn’t tell if Slader was high, drunk, or just this intense naturally. Either way, she knew she had to go with it. Her own body commanded her to stay. To go with it. If he wanted to touch her, then she’d allow it. He was a rockstar... the hottest rockstar in the world.

  His hands released their grip on Jessica’s wrists and touched her hips.

  “I’m going to make you come,” Slader whispered. “Your own needs are getting in your way. I want you to see and feel everything, Jessica. Beyond your job. This magazine. This interview. This story you feel you have to tell.”

  “Fuck,” Jessica muttered.

  “Do not move your hands or you will be punished.”

  Punished?

  Jessica wasn’t sure if she liked that word or not. But it certainly turned her on. She was supposed to be backstage to complete an interview. But this was part of it all, wasn’t it? This was the rock n’ roll lifestyle. The wild sex. The music.

  Slader squeezed Jessica with his left hand. His hand moved along her backside and then between her legs. She felt the pressure of his fingers against her. Through her jeans, through her panties, her moist, soft folds were tender and throbbing. He rubbed back and forth, increasing the pressure as needed. Jessica felt her knees starting to bend, gently rocking herself against Slader’s touch.

  “Yes,” Slader whispered. “That’s what I want to feel. Yes. Do it. Come.”

  Jessica then saw the emails flash through her mind. She heard the words of her boss. Her legs straightened and closed against Slader’s hand.

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “Slader... I can’t do this.”

  “Yes, you can,” Slader growled. “Do you know who I am?”

  “I know. I’m here for a reason...”

  “We all are,” Slader said. “To die.”

  Jessica’s body started to shake. Everything shook. Right and wrong. Fear and needs. Wants and desires. She squeezed her legs tighter.

  Was she going to reject him?

  Was she going to reject the sexiest rockstar on the planet?

  Was she going to reject the hottest man that dared to touch her?

  Jessica closed her eyes and backed up into Slader. She pushed at him, feeling his resistance.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Slader whispered. “My heart... again...”

  Jessica looked back at the rockstar.

  Again?

  Jessica had never met Slader before. Her fantasies and conversations came in the form of posters, pictures, and erotic thoughts late at night.

  Slader took his hands from her body and stepped back.

  “You leave me no choice, Jessica,” Slader said.

  Jessica stiffened.

  No choice?

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means one thing,” Slader said. “I’m going to have another show here tomorrow night. And the next night. And the next night. Until you come back to me. Where you belong.”

  Jessica grabbed her bag. As she bent, she felt the pull of her panties. The wetness was so intense that Jessica bit her lip, seeking relief. She could get relief. Easily.

  From Slader.

  He wanted to touch her.

  Why not?

  Why not indulge? Give in? Enjoy?

  Jessica couldn’t figure out why and wouldn’t until she was home an hour later. She sat on the edge of her bed, still shaking. She was glad Carrie and John were gone to the movies. The feelings racing through her were too much to handle at once... but that’s when it came to her.

  His eyes.

  It was Slader’s eyes.

  They weren’t the eyes of a rockstar looking for someone to hookup with. They were the eyes of a rockstar - a man - who wanted to dominate Jessica. Who wanted to touch her, hold her. If she went into his arms, there would be more meaning... more than she was willing to chance at that mo
ment.

  But there was always tomorrow.

  Or the next night.

  Or the next night.

  She flees. In despair. I love her. Without care. I smell her. I touch her hair. Does she even know... I’m right there?

  .4.

  Slader took the stage and looked out to the crowd. To his crowd. But all he could see was one person.

  The one that had changed everything. Then and now and everything in between. He stood at the mic for five minutes, the band behind him playing the same opening notes of an Ashes in Vain song. An upbeat song with a catchy drumbeat, great guitar, and a sound loud enough to wake anyone that dared to daze off in the crowd.

  The crowd cheered and screamed, waiting for Slader to sing something. To say something. To do... anything.

  He put his hands out and stopped the show.

  The guitars came to a halt, a little feedback screamed but was quickly killed off. Tension mounted instantly. The crowd before Slader calmed. He looked out to them, staring in each of their eyes.

  “She’s the one who took me away,” Slader whispered. “The one who created forever. She slipped between my fingers. Like dust... like ashes...”

  Slader put his head back and wiggled his fingers.

  He wanted the crowd to speak to him.

  Speak to me... speak to me, you fucking people... speak...

  Those who knew Alex Slader - the front man of Ashes in Vain - knew what to do. They began to chant and sing in vain! In vain! finishing Slader’s sentence. When the crowd grew louder, he made fists. Slowly, second by second, he brought the show back to life. He didn’t need to look to point at the band. To tell which band member to kick in. They listened perfectly.

  The show began with a greater rock n’ roll fury than it would have before and because of that, because of the way the fans reacted, Slader played longer than he had planned. The notes from the piano from earlier were stuck in his head throughout the show. But seeing the piano would make him think of Jessica. The magazine writer extraordinaire. The one who thought she could steal the story everyone wanted to get.

  But who was she really?

  Why did she have to be so beautiful?

  So... addicting?

  Slader swore he could have licked the air in that dressing room to taste her innocence. And once the show was over, he went into the room first, stopping his band. His new band... Skren, Roc, Jimmie, and the overweight bassist who had been with Slader for a year now, Bry. Inside the dressing room, Slader inhaled the air and smiled, picturing Jessica. Picturing her across the world. Picturing her in his arms. Slader held his arms out and stared. He’d never felt so taken back by someone before. Jessica would remain within him, until she came back.