Rock Star Romance: Dan (Contemporary New Adult Rockstar Bad Boy Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 4)

by Jade Allen

  "I'm sorry!" his eyes were wide with fear. "God, I should have asked first! You don't even want me, you were just being nice." His face was stricken. "Damn. Lucy, please forgive me. I've wanted you since I first saw you, but I completely understand---"

  She didn't give him time to finish. She leapt forward and crushed his mouth with hers, plunging her tongue between his lips to tangle with his. Hugh grunted in delighted surprise, then shocked her by reaching around and cupping her plump ass, holding her body firmly against him as he ground his erect member against her. They fell on to the bed, and Hugh kept grinding his hips against Lucy, pulling gently on her hair as his cock thrusted against her swollen clit.

  "Clothes off," Lucy panted, skin burning from the kisses Hugh was planting on her face and neck. "Now."

  Hugh jerked Lucy into a standing position and reached behind her to untie the strings, then pulled her dress over her head swiftly. He started to remove his clothing as Lucy stripped off her undergarments. As her huge breasts swung free of her brassiere, Hugh let out a throaty moan. He moved his palm over the rigid shaft of his cock, wrapping his fingers around it and stroking lightly. His thumb passed over his bulbous head, sending a shiver down his spine. He licked his lips, waiting for her to move.

  Lucy slowly returned to the bed, taking in Hugh's chiseled body with fervent eyes. She spread her thighs invitingly, running her hand over her mound and shivering as her palm caressed her swollen clit. A fire was eating away her self-control, and she moaned as Hugh gripped her thighs to steady her, then sank swiftly into her pussy. He let out an impassioned cry, pulling slowly out of her wetness, then thrusting himself back in. The incredible sensation of his thick shaft penetrating her tight walls stole the breath from Lucy's lungs, and her hips rushed to meet the movement of his, her nerve endings singing with pleasure. His mouth found her nipple and his tongue flicked across it sharply, forcing an ardent cry of joy from Lucy's lips as he drove himself desperately between her thick thighs. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, pulling him in closer so the round head of his rigid cock could reach the deepest, most sensitive spot inside her.

  Lucy couldn't believe she had this beautiful man on top of her, filling and stretching her, and kissing her urgently. His eyes were gentle, affectionate, and burning with passion. He kneaded her soft breasts as he plunged into her, languidly dragging the length of himself back and rushing forward to hilt himself in her dripping wet pussy again. Hugh twisted her nipple with one hand, biting gently on her breast before sucking the areola into his mouth. Lucy whimpered, and her eyes rolled back in her head as he buried his cock in her again and again. She felt her inner walls clench around him as he moved inside her faster and faster, and he shuddered, picking up speed as desire rolled through his body. Lucy grabbed the firm cheeks of his ass, pressing him closer against her. The weight of his body ground against the sensitive nub of her clit, and she shouted her ecstasy to the ceiling.

  "You feel as amazing as you look," he moaned into her ear, and Lucy felt a wave of ecstasy suffuse her body. Hugh started to pump his hips wildly, sacrificing rhythm for power and moaning deliriously as Lucy's inner walls swallowed his girth and sent his body into paroxysms of delight. "I never want to stop making love to you. Never." He said viciously. His green eyes were wild with lust.

  "Don't," Lucy begged, and Hugh's hands grabbed her hips as he threw himself against her harder. "Don't stop! Yes! God, yes, Hugh!" she cried, her eyes closed in rapture. He was filling her with euphoria, his forceful thrusts pounding her closer to the delicious edge of orgasm. His strong hands tightened on her soft waist as he watched himself slide in and out of her slick pussy. His breath grew ragged and short, and Lucy rolled her hips against his, her body thrumming with joy. Her pussy tightened around his shaft as she came, moaning her ecstasy into Hugh's mouth. She pulled his hair gently as he exploded inside her, and they thrusted together, bodies drained of adrenaline. He pulled back, looking at her in wonder. He didn't say a word, but kissed her, then slid himself off of her, gazing at her face from his side.

  There was a heavy silence between them, and Lucy listened to the pounding of her heart, waiting for her body to cool. She realized she could hear the roar of the crowd just outside the door, responding to something someone was doing with an appreciative cheer. Hugh was smiling at her shyly, waiting for her to speak.

  "So," she said carefully, trying for a joke. "You come here often?"

  Hugh gazed at her, startled, then laughed, holding his chest until the chuckles subsided. "I promise I don't," he finally said. "Those stories really aren't true. You are the first woman I've taken back here. In any fashion." He smiled slowly at the look of disbelief on Lucy's face. "I'm serious."

  "Well, I hope you don't think I'm easy." Her voice was light, but she wasn't joking at all. Hugh seemed to pick up on it. He leaned in and kissed her softly, sending a jolt of happiness through her body.

  "Not at all," he said earnestly. "In fact, I'm expecting you to give me quite the problem." His hand found hers, and she squeezed it.

  "What do you mean?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

  “Well," Hugh said gently, his eyes shining with mirth. "I doubt very much you're going to let me take you on dates at your diner and at my place of work. So we'll have to work around that, and meet up whenever I'm close. And I expect you'll want me close often." He slipped his arm around her waist, grinning happily. "Which I don't mind at all."

  Lucy shook her head, almost unable to believe what she was hearing. "Sorry...are you saying you want to keep seeing me? Like...on dates?"

  He looked at her as though she'd said the most ridiculous sentence in the human language. "Are you kidding me, Gorgeous? You think I'm going to let some other cowboy snap you up?" he laughed, and the sound made her heart soar in her chest. She started laughing with him, and they laughed until their faces moved close enough to kiss again. They kissed until their bodies grew close enough to touch again. Then they touched until they warmed again enough to make love.

  After, Lucy watched her cowboy sleep, hoping the show went on a little longer out there. She pictured the look Rosie would get when she let this event slip, and especially when she informed her that it would be ongoing. And to think that all she had to thank was her special---a dish as hearty and complicated as her, but not half as irresistible.

  THE END

  Falling For The Hot Rodeo Cowboy

  Elizabeth stared at the case files in her hand in disbelief. He’s sticking me with the trash again, she thought angrily. Her fingers crinkled the edge of the pages as she turned them, but she couldn’t focus on loosening her grip while she was still breathing the same air as her boss. Condescending prick.

  “Of course you’ll be paid handsomely,” Donald was saying in his lazy Tennessee drawl. “The agent has booked you for the duration. Simple drug charge, accusation of using performance enhancers, stripped of his titles, all that.”

  “Why do we care if this cowboy is doping?” Elizabeth raised her eyes to Donald’s toadyish face, and he flinched at the sharpness of her tone. “That has nothing to do with us.”

  “The drugs in question are an illegal concoction currently being evaluated for classification under Schedule I narcotics.” Donald blinked again. “You know, drugs that have no medical use by law.”

  “Like crack?” Elizabeth asked. “He was using something like crack to improve his performance?”

  “I am not a chemist,” Donald said impatiently, waving his fat hands in front of him as though the distinction was a simple case of semantics. “I don’t know. What I do know is this will be a very easy case for you, and a nice paycheck to pad this month out. All you have to do is make sure this fella gets scared straight, so to speak, and you’ve got yourself a few car payments for an Audi R8.”

  Elizabeth knew her face was starting to harden into a mask of contempt. “With all due respect, I don’t want easy. That’s not why I became a lawyer. Why am I never assigned to a case with an outcome that actually m
atters?”

  “I resent that!” Donald said, and he sounded very mildly scandalized. “I have personally handed you many cases that got your name in the paper.” He fiddled at the buttons on his suit nervously as he spoke, his beady eyes darting around the corridor as though he was afraid of being overheard.

  “Those were vanity cases that did nothing to help the community,” Elizabeth countered. She folded her arms, even though she knew her green pantsuit might crease from the action. “I want to make a difference! I don’t want to sit around and look pretty!”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Donald said pleasantly. “You do it so well. But I have no doubt that this case is going to surprise you with its depth. I think Mr. Brighton is going to bring a lot of attention to our little town, and then you’ll be moving on in no time.”

  He didn’t give her any time to respond to his last remark; it was probably for the best, since nothing that came to mind would have done Elizabeth’s career any good. She uncrossed her arms and looked down to see her hands shaking with rage, had to close her eyes and take three deep breaths in a row before they slowed their trembling. I have to get out of this job, she mused. I’m not going to live to see thirty five this way. As she watched Donald Douglass’ wide body disappear around the corner, she wondered how someone so full of corruption and laziness could possibly ascend to the position of District Attorney; then again, most of her co-workers weren’t any better. She remembered clearly being shunned for her first two weeks on the job, until Donald stepped in to make everyone stop their open hostility toward her.

  Though the town was slowly filling up with hipsters and their ilk to replace the dwindling baby boomer population, it was at a grueling place that simply wasn’t fast enough for her. The weight of being the only black lawyer in Claiborne, Tennessee was starting to crush her spirit, and it wasn’t going to get better unless she tried to do something about it.

  Maybe I can check some of the ads from the papers near the bigger cities, Elizabeth thought as she made her way through the courthouse. I can’t stay here much longer, not if I want to have my own practice one day. It had been three years, but the constantly polished floors of her three story court building were finally starting to look blackened with the slime that crawled through. Donald himself had supervised cases that saw drug barons walk away without so much as a slap on the wrist. It was more than just tiresome now, and it had been implied that she would lose more than her good reputation for speaking up; the words “replaceable” had been thrown around more than once. She’d made some connections between law school and the present, so it should be easier than it was before to find a position. She would just have to consider moving, maybe even out of state.

  As Elizabeth entered the main hall to exit the building, something caught her eye at the edge of her vision. She turned her head to the right, and the man that had been staring at her turned around abruptly and walked in the other direction. She froze, fear flooding her body as she tried to identify the squat man in the brown suit that no one else was acknowledging as he fled deeper into the courthouse. He looked over his shoulder once more as he entered an elevator, and the bright blue eyes called a name from the back of her mind immediately: Dale Cunnings, the Mayor’s aide. Disgusting creep. Mayor Hare had requested her help with an anti-drug crusade two weeks before, and when she’d refused, Dale tried to win her over with his masculine charm. Unfortunately for Dale, Elizabeth knew how to spot a sleaze ball on sight, and she brutally rebuffed him until she threatened him with a restraining order. She hadn’t been serious, but it had worked—or so she thought. If Dale was following her again, maybe she really would need to get that restraining order. She smiled when she thought of his potential reaction to the paperwork, and it lifted her spirits significantly.

  The sun was almost blinding in its brilliance, but Elizabeth thought it was just because she’d been in the courthouse since before dawn, like always, finishing up the remaining bit of paperwork from the last week. She represented two young shoplifters whose fathers bought their way out of serving time and scored them a few hours of community service. She was glad to see the end of the case; the teens had been rude on top of unrepentant, and she was sure she would see them again if she stuck around Claiborne. The types of teenagers she wanted to help weren’t born with silver spoons in their mouths, or at least didn’t take them for granted.

  The drive back to her house was short, since most people were already at work or school at nine thirty; Elizabeth loved driving her little Honda through the empty surface streets and counting all the elderly couples walking hand and hand past all the kitschy looking storefronts on Main street. The shops were all covered with fake wood paneling in front so that the town looked more “Old Western,” helping to draw in travelers. In the middle of March, there were few tourists drifting across their paths, so the shoppers were mostly stay at home mothers or teenagers ditching school. By the time she pulled into the driveway of her two bedroom house, she’d only counted three couples, and one hunch-backed old man with a bright green cane making his way into the bank.

  A soft chime sounded when Elizabeth walked into her darkened living room, startling her even though the sound was low; she started to panic before she remembered it was just the answering machine attached to the ancient landline she’d had installed. Her cellphone service would sometimes fade out in parts of town, and when her mailbox got full, there was no other way to reach her. Apparently, she had forgotten to clear her messages again. She walked across the room to punch the glowing red button and collapse into the easy chair next to the phone and began taking off her shoes.

  Beep. “It’s Matty. I was just wondering how you’re doing...maybe we could meet up for a drink? Call me; let me know how you are.”

  “Not nearly desperate enough to call you back,” Elizabeth said under her breath as she nervously tugged on the loose coils of her hair. I have to get this re-weaved, she thought absentmindedly. Maybe next week, in case I get in an interview.

  Beep. “It’s Douglass. Chase’s agent wants you to meet with him this evening, six pm. Don’t be late!”

  Dammit. She’d have to meet with him before she got a chance to line up another job; she’d been hoping the arena cowboy would drag his feet since his trial wasn’t set to begin for another few weeks. Why was he so eager? Guys like him got off so easy they often never had time to feel anxiety before they were out the door again. God knows she’d had enough arrogance for one lifetime, and Chase Brighton was probably so coated in it you couldn’t keep his grip in a handshake. Maybe I should just turn down this case, she thought desperately. But they’d probably try to fire me before I could quit.

  She opened her phone and caught sight of a headline from a news app on her home screen: HARE’S HARASSMENT WOES, read the block letters. The article detailed the dozens of sexual harassment lawsuits brought against Mayor Hare, many of which were settled out of court. It was just one more horrifying reason to get out of this town. I wish there were some way to take him out with me.

  Elizabeth stripped down to her panties and climbed under her sheets for a quick nap, vowing to search the want ads for a few hours before she had to go meet with her new client. If she was lucky, maybe she’d have something by the end of that week. If she was really lucky, perhaps the end of the day.

  And if luck had any real weight in this world at all, you’d have never been in this town in the first place, Elizabeth thought. Seconds later, she was fast asleep.

  ****

  When she woke up, she assumed the blackout curtains were doing their job, and the twilight in her room was artificial; then she remembered she hadn’t pulled the blackout curtains before he laid down, and she was out of bed so fast she nearly tangled herself in the sheets.

  Her bedside clock read five twenty eight. Fuck! There was no time to eat anything, or even do more than hop in and out of the shower. Elizabeth raced around her home, grateful she hadn’t acquired much in her short tenure in Claiborne; it made findin
g and organizing things far easier. Some of her things were still in boxes, in fact—never unpacked from her initial move. After the first six months, it was a priority issue, and after that it was about comfort. Elizabeth never felt welcomed by the little town, and being in a constant state of unease delayed her putting down roots until it was too late. The soil here was sucked dry, and she had to tumble on.

  It took her twenty minutes to shower and pull on her black pantsuit, and another ten to drive to the courthouse. Her fingers were gripping the steering wheel so tightly as she drove that her hands were numb by the time she pulled into the parking garage with five minutes to spare. Deep breath and focus. This might be your first and last time meeting this dipwad. Elizabeth straightened the lapels of her deep blue shirt and buttoned her suit jacket as she climbed out of the car. It was chilly for March, even for the evening. Maybe we’ll get hail again.

  The security guard on duty waved her through immediately, too engrossed in his Soap Opera Digest to bother greeting her or to look in her purse. The courthouse was oddly empty at this hour; normally it was swarming with cops, lawyers, and criminals from open to close. She got all the way to the third level before seeing another person—a lone janitor pushing a dirty mop around outside the men’s bathroom. There was a fluorescent light flickering above him, and it cast the entire hallway into a sickening yellowish glow that nearly caused Elizabeth to reconsider the meeting. What are you, superstitious? Just go to the conference room!

  Conference room D was the smallest room, but it was the only one with a couch. It also was without cameras, but she wasn’t worried about being attacked. When she pushed open the door, a waif-like woman with short red hair curling around her ears was sitting cross-legged in a desk chair while a tall, tanned man with dark brown hair stretched out on the plush green couch. The woman sprang to her feet as Elizabeth entered, extending one hand as she offered a tight smile, but the man didn’t move at all. Jerk.