Dare to Rock

by Carly Phillips

  He had tried hard tonight, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings or upset him more. “It’s fine,” she said. “I know who you are. It’s not like I was blindsided, you know? It’s just the people, the crowds are …”

  “Isolating. Uncomfortable. I know. I get it, okay?”

  She blinked and looked up at him, surprised at the words he’d chosen. “I thought you loved fame. You left here seeking it and—”

  “I left here for a lot of reasons, and I hope one day we’ll talk about all of them. But as for fame, yeah, I wanted it, and I know how damned lucky I am to have made it to the level I have. That’s why I don’t turn away from the people who put me there.”

  “And I’m not asking you to. I wouldn’t.” But the whole scene made her panicky and even, in some ways, feel less than. A feeling she’d had more than enough of in her lifetime, thanks to her father. And also due in part to Grey’s sudden departure from her life.

  “I need us to go somewhere quiet. Just the two of us,” he said, brushing her cheek with his hand.

  She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to, and she tipped her head into his strong touch. “What did you have in mind?”

  He pulled out his phone and began to text while she waited. A few seconds passed, then he obviously received a reply. “Lola said we can go to her boat. It’s at the marina.”

  Avery blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected that. “A boat?”

  “Yacht,” he amended. “She and Rep own one … full crew, captain, and everything. She’ll clear it with them, and we can head over there now. We’ll just sit on the deck and talk.”

  Avery glanced up at the cloudy sky. Even in the darkness that had finally surrounded them, she knew the covering didn’t bode well for good weather. “It’s going to rain.”

  “So we can go below deck. Trust me, it’s comfortable.”

  She had no doubt that it was. These people lived life in a world completely alien to her … and that was saying something given how she thought she’d grown up privileged. But this wasn’t just money. It was flashier. Attention getting. Funny how everything came back to that one word. Attention.

  “I think it’s better to call it a night,” she said.

  He frowned, disappointment, then determination edging his expression. “So you can build up some more walls? Some more misconceptions about who I am now?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He was right. She wanted to be with him, and she didn’t like the idea of running away. So their lives were very different, and she couldn’t live in his fishbowl world, but they could still catch up. Have this time together.

  “Okay,” she said before she could change her mind.

  Clear approval flashed in his eyes, and his smile broke down the last of her defenses. “Good. Then let’s go.”

  They climbed into his car and drove to the marina, where a security guard in a guardhouse checked them in. Grey parked his car in a private lot. They climbed out, and he led her to the dock, where huge yachts bobbed in the water, gorgeous in look, intimidating in size. A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, a reminder that a storm was imminent. Or not. In Florida you could never be certain what the weather would be one minute to the next.

  With his hand on the small of her back and tremors of awareness rippling through her body, they walked to the end of the dock.

  He stopped in front of a white yacht with red trim, The Lola scripted along the side. “This is it.”

  “Wow,” she said, taking in the gorgeous boat. Yacht. Whatever she called it, it was a beauty.

  “Yeah. You’re going to love the inside of Lola and Rep’s baby. I’m not up on terminology, so I’ll just say welcome aboard,” Grey said as he pulled off his shoes.

  She did the same, and soon she found herself on a deck with beautiful wood furniture, topped by cushions with a red-and-white-chevron pattern. Lola clearly loved red, she mused.

  She glanced around, her gaze coming to rest on a bucket of champagne in ice waiting for them. “They set this up so quickly?”

  “Told you. Full-service crew, who you’ll never see unless you want to.” Grey gestured to a love seat, where they could sit side by side.

  She lowered herself into the soft cushion. He joined her, his hard thigh touching hers, and an electrical shock jolted her system. Her body flushed with heat, her nipples tightened, and she bit back a sigh of pleasure. Not quite fast enough, because his eyes darkened at the sound that escaped.

  He tore his gaze away, and with expertise, he opened the champagne and poured them each a glass.

  “Thanks.” She accepted hers, grateful for something to do with her hands.

  “To new beginnings.” He touched his glass to hers.

  “To old friends,” she said.

  He narrowed his gaze, clearly aware of her attempt to put distance between them. Still watching her, he took a long sip.

  She followed suit and moaned at the bubbly taste.

  His gaze heated up at the sound, and she just knew a heated blush stained her cheeks. “I always was a sucker for champagne,” she murmured.

  “I remember. You were a lightweight too.”

  She shrugged. “I still am.” It didn’t take much alcohol to give her a buzz.

  He placed his glass down on the table in front of them. She preferred to hold on to hers for security. Now that she was alone with him, butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach.

  “I needed this. Needed to be alone with you.” He reached out and wrapped a section of her hair around his finger and rubbed his thumb back and forth over the strands.

  She felt the caress between her thighs, arousal and need alive and well inside her, an ache only Grey seemed capable of creating. “I’m glad we’re here too.”

  “Could have fooled me,” he said in a gruff voice. “You tried damned hard to get out of it.”

  He looked and sounded like a hurt little boy, and she couldn’t have that. “My rational side reminds me of how different we are.” She met his gaze, needing him to understand. “But I do want this time with you now, to catch up and get to know each other again.” But that’s all she’d admit to wanting, Avery thought.

  “Good, because I want the same thing.” He eased closer, his arm snaking around behind her, the closeness and warmth of his body arousing her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Or maybe ever.

  He took the glass out of her hands and placed it on the table. “I’ve moved here for good.”

  His words took her off guard. “I thought for sure you’d end up back in L.A.”

  He shook his head. “Not happening. I’m here to stay. And since I am, I think we should move on to other things,” he said, the sexual innuendo in his tone clear.

  “What things?” she asked in a husky tone.

  “This.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue over her lips. “Mmm. Champagne and you. Nothing sweeter,” he said, his voice a deep rumble, a sweet, seductive promise of things her body craved badly.

  Her sex clenched, and she shifted in her seat, unable to ease the sudden ache between her thighs. Her hands drifted as she fought an inner battle—give in to what she wanted or let fear of losing again consume her.

  He licked the corner of her mouth and slipped his tongue inside. Battle lost. She moaned, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back, all the years of pent up need and longing gone the instant she gave in.

  He swept one hand into her hair, wrapping the long strands around his fist, the tug drawing a direct line to her sex. Dampness coated her panties, and her nipples hardened, aching for his touch. But he held her in place, taking his time, his lips devouring hers, his tongue thrusting in and out, sweeping through the deep recesses of her mouth. She was lost in sensation, lost in Grey.

  Thunder sounded closer, but at this point, she couldn’t distinguish between the arousal rumbling through her brain and body and the weather outside. He kissed his way down her neck, her throat, his teeth grazing her skin,
pausing at her collarbone to find the sensitive spot he’d always favored.

  She curled her hands into his shirt as her head fell back and she gave into sensation.

  “You taste like vanilla,” he muttered, licking his way across her chest, following the line of her shirt where it crested over her breasts.

  It was the very best kind of tease, and she couldn’t do more than sigh his name. “Grey.”

  “Missed you, sugar.”

  She trembled in his arms. “I missed you too.” The admission hurt, because he’d left her, and the knowledge was always there, burrowed in her heart, next to the crack her father had left before him.

  She pushed the thought away, reaching for him, her hand cupping his cheek. “It’s still there, isn’t it?” she asked, needing to know the intensity was as strong for him as it was for her.

  His darkened gaze met hers, and he stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Stronger than ever.”

  He braced her face in his hands and kissed her again—and again it went on, two people relearning and lost in long-forgotten and reawakened sensations. She threaded her fingers into his hair, running her palms over the shorter sides, tugging on the longer pieces on top.

  He groaned and pulled her astride him, her sex now in direct contact with the heavy, thick bulge in his jeans. She arched her back and rocked lightly, the cresting waves inside her body as powerful as those surrounding the boat below.

  Another crack of thunder sounded, this one louder, startling her, and she flinched at the noise. A streak of lightning lit the sky soon after.

  Grey swore. “Inside. Now.”

  He helped her to her feet. She grabbed the glasses, and he picked up the champagne, but the skies had already opened. Before they could make their way below deck, the first droplet was followed by torrential sheets of rain.

  Chapter Three

  The sky released unexpected swells of water in seconds. By the time Grey and Avery made it beneath the overhang and he led her to the staterooms below, they were drenched.

  “Damn. It couldn’t have started as light drops?” he asked.

  Avery laughed, the sound not helping the hard-on beneath his jeans.

  The room had two beds on either side, both good size for a yacht, and a small dressing area. He opened the closet, grabbed clothes, and tossed two tee shirts onto the bed.

  “Pick one,” he said, pointing to his old band tees.

  “You have clothes on board?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Lola insisted I keep things here for emergencies.” He looked back in and pulled out a pair of shorts for himself.

  “She’s a good friend?” Avery asked.

  “She is. We met in L.A. not long after I arrived.” He glanced over his shoulder to find Avery had pulled off her wet shirt. Her bare back with creamy white skin tempted him to touch. Lick. Devour.

  He grabbed the other shirt and yanked it over his head, then stripped out of his jeans, trying like hell to ignore the fact that she was undressed inches away. He clenched his jaw and pulled on the shorts, which did nothing to hide his erection.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

  “Anything.” He spun back to find her seated on one of the beds.

  Her damp hair fell over her shoulders, her legs crossed beneath her. But it was his shirt covering her body that had him enthralled. He liked her in his clothing, as caveman as that sounded. He liked thinking of her as his.

  “You and Lola.” Avery picked at a thread on the bedspread. “Have you … I mean, did you and Lola ever—”

  He paused, then decided he might as well be completely honest. “I never slept with her.”

  “But you wanted to? Because she’s gorgeous. I mean, she was voted sexiest woman alive and all. What guy wouldn’t want her?” Avery’s cheeks flamed as she rushed out the words. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

  “Actually it’s very much your business.” He strode over to her, bracing his hands on either side of her body, forcing her to lie down on the mattress.

  The scent of vanilla and rain permeated his senses, nearly knocking him on his ass as desire rushed through him. He wanted nothing more than to toss her on the bed, strip off her clothes, and bury his cock deep in her wet, willing pussy. That wouldn’t happen if she thought he had a thing for Lola. He never had.

  Avery stared up at him, eyes wide, waiting for his next move. He could get lost in those eyes. Write songs about the color and how the hue darkened when she was aroused. Damp. Wet for him.

  He cleared his throat. “Let’s get something clear. I never wanted to sleep with Lola. She had a crush on me, but one kiss cured that. For me, it was like kissing my sister, and for her, she realized her feelings for me were more about comfort and family than sex. So no, Lola doesn’t do it for me.”

  “Oh.” Avery’s tongue darted out, slicking over her sweet lips.

  “You, on the other hand, do. You make me fucking hard every time I lay eyes on you.” But he couldn’t act on those desires and keep her in his life.

  He’d have to win her over slowly. Gain back her trust.

  This was too much too soon. He knew it. He drew on all his inner strength, kissed her hard, and pulled her back up until she sat on the bed.

  Then he walked to the other side of the small room. “When the rain lightens, we can make a run for the car.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “More champagne in the meantime?” he asked, turning back toward her.

  She lifted her shoulder, and even that little gesture turned him on.

  “No thanks. I think I’m good.”

  She pushed herself back against the pillows, giving him a flash of pink lace between her thighs. He swallowed a groan and discreetly adjusted himself before settling next to her.

  “So tell me more about you and your career. What was L.A. like?” she asked him.

  He rested his head back against the pillows, but the small bed kept them in close proximity. He needed this subject change and distraction.

  He thought back to the early days in California. “L.A. was a crazy scene. I loved it at first. We played gigs and bars for very little money, hoping for exposure. Eventually Simon, our manager, spotted us, and the insanity started.”

  She rolled to her side and glanced up at him, clearly interested in his past. “The groupies and women?”

  He winced but pushed on. “Yeah. I was eighteen, and everything was new and exciting.” He knew that while he’d been young and stupid, enjoying life too much, he’d left her behind and hurt her in the process. “It’s not that I didn’t miss you … I did. I just—”

  “You had a dream, Grey. I don’t blame you for chasing it.” He didn’t want her forgiveness, not when he should have, could have handled leaving better … for both of them. But he’d wanted out of his parents’ house as much as he’d wanted to play for a living.

  He swallowed hard. “I saw you, you know. Everywhere I looked. The women didn’t mean anything. It was easy sex just like the drugs and alcohol were easy. But when I closed my eyes, I pretended they were you.”

  Her eyes dampened, but he didn’t want to hurt her more by dwelling on the past. He’d just wanted her to know he hadn’t left and forgotten.

  “What changed for you?” she asked.

  “Milo got heavier into the drug scene, and things became clearer for me. I realized I loved the music but not the lifestyle.”

  He laid an arm over his forehead, staring at the ceiling. “Lola and I knew we were done long before we all agreed to call it quits. I reconnected with you … or tried to. Then Milo OD’d, and all my focus had to go into being there for him. I didn’t mean to stop the gifts or texts, but it was a rough time.”

  “Grey,” she said, her voice a light in the darkness that blanketed him whenever he thought of Milo.

  “He’s okay. He’s still impatient, which is cool. He seems committed to getting better, finally.” He held on to that bit of hope for his friend.

  “
Thank you for telling me.” She reached out and touched his forearm, her soft touch a balm for the pain in his soul.

  He glanced her way. “I don’t share with anyone,” he told her. “Even Lola has to pull things out of me … but it feels right with you.”

  “So that hasn’t changed either. Our ability to open up and talk to each other.” A soft smile lifted her lips.

  “Thank God for that.” He grinned in return. “So how are your brothers and sister?” he asked, curious about her family.

  “Olivia is amazing. Like I told you, she’s married to Dylan Rhodes. They both work for the Thunder. She’s pregnant and due in a few months. I’m going to be an aunt again!” The excitement in her voice was tangible.

  “Again?”

  “Yes. Ian has a baby girl. Rainey Noelle. She is the sweetest thing ever … except that she has her daddy’s stubbornness. And Scott’s going to be a dad too. He’s with a woman who was already pregnant … long story, but they’re really happy. Just Tyler’s still single. And me.” She looked away at that admission, obviously not wanting to get into heavy relationship discussions.

  Fine by him. He had a plan to build slowly. As long as she was here, he could live with that. “So your brothers are settling down, huh?”

  “Yes, but not mellowing out,” she muttered, and he caught the subtle warning in her tone.

  “In other words, I’d better watch out?” Her older brothers had always been protective of Avery and Olivia, and clearly that hadn’t changed. Grey had a hunch the Dare brothers wouldn’t like him coming back into Avery’s life.

  She nodded, indigo eyes as serious as ever. “I’d steer clear if I were you.”

  “I’m not worried about your brothers, sugar. If I run into them, I’ll deal.”

  “But—”

  He placed a finger over her soft lips. “You’re worth it.”

  Her eyes softened, and she touched his cheek, her gaze warm on his. Desire flitted across her pretty face, her eyes darkening, her breath a short hitch.

  His body still beat with awareness from their make-out session on the deck, the memory of her wet heat rocking over his cock still teasing and testing his restraint. He wanted nothing more than to thrust into her hard and fast, now. And they were alone on this yacht, nothing stopping them from that kind of reunion. Which meant he was hanging on by a damned thread.