by Lee Piper
Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2017 Lee Piper
ISBN: 978-1-77339-302-5
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Stephanie Balistreri
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
PRAISE FOR LEE PIPER
I loved this story. I couldn’t put it down! –Rabid Readers Book Blog on Rock My World
This book is full of wit, sarcasm, and it’s a smart and fun romance. –Uncaged Book Reviews on Rock My World
I have a feeling that Lee Piper will now be another rock star romance author favorite of mine –Lisa M. Mandina
This book captured me from the very first page. –The Book Addict’s Reviews on Rock My World
Lee Piper showed us the strength it takes to love someone who is broken and the mental struggle a person battles to just let it all go and live again. Not an easy task, as a real person or as an author writing about imaginary people. To have a reader actually feel a character’s emotions, feel their pain as your own is a challenging feat BUT Lee conquered this task. –Kameron Brook on Rock My World
Lee Piper showed a talented writing style that instantly had me and I couldn't turn the pages quickly enough. I don't want to forget to add that the cover is HOT! I'm super excited about this new series, so I cannot wait for the next one to come out. HIGHLY HIGHLY HIGHLY RECOMMEND! –The Power of Three Readers on Rock My World
Oh my gosh, this book was so good! I loved everything about it. I'll definitely be reading more Lee Piper books in the future. –Brandy Paige Roberts on Rock My World
Holy crap! The banter between these two is hysterical at times. –LHamp on Rock My World
This was a well written rocker romance and the sex scenes are HOT! –Margaret Lander on Rock My World
A great debut and I will be keeping an eye out for upcoming books from this author. –B2B Kelly on Rock My World
This is the first book I read by Lee Piper and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The banter between these two characters will keep you in stitches. –Delish, Devine and All Mine on Rock My World
Very well written. The author takes you straight into the story and keeps you interested and wondering how this may end. –Smut Lovers Wonderland on Rock My World
Author’s Note:
Rock My Body Is Book Two in the Mondez series. The storyline runs parallel with Rock My World and it is therefore advised that each book be read in chronological order to avoid any spoilers.
Much love,
Lee x
DEDICATION
To Chantal, who never doubted. Not once. This one’s for you.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
If I had a dollar for every time I asked my husband to listen to the latest section of Rock My Body, I’d be a gazillionaire. So thank you, Mister, for being my sounding board, cheer squad and spider killing ninja. I’d be lost without you.
Chantal, I would have given up long ago if it wasn’t for your phone calls, messages and continued belief in me. You’re the best cousin a girl could ask for—thank you.
To my beta readers, Tarina (holy shit, this book would have been a total mess without you!), Rosie (I still have no idea how you squeeze in the time to read my work but I am forever grateful), Lesley (one of the most beautiful people I know), and Mum (I can’t believe you liked this one), thank you for reading my manuscript and for offering super helpful feedback. There’s a swagger in my step with you by my side.
Thank you to Stacey and the team at Evernight Publishing for taking a gamble on me. You guys are beyond awesome and I love working with you. Let’s do it again sometime.
Jay Aheer, your book covers blow me away. Every. Damn. Time. Thank you for bringing my vision to life in such a kickass way.
To my editor, Stephanie, one day I’ll know the difference between ‘which’ and ‘that’. Not sure when but I’m hopeful it’ll be soon. You are a goddess among women, thank you.
A huge shout out to the team at Enticing Journey Book Promotions and all of the bloggers who jumped on board to help spread the world about this firecracker. You rock my world.
Readers, I am so flipping humbled by your support. Thank you, thank you, thank you for joining me on this rollercoaster.
And finally, to those of you living with mental illness, to those who feel broken, imperfect, and alone. I want you to listen to me carefully because shit’s about to get real. Ready? You’re not broken, you’re not imperfect, and you’re definitely not alone. I see you, I am you and do you know what? We’re motherfucking beautiful.
ROCK MY BODY
A Mondez Novel, 2
Lee Piper
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Was it something that I…?
Or was it…?
There’s something in the way you move.
—MONDEZ, “Stranger”
My running shoes pounded the hard sand as I kept my eyes locked on the horizon. On a day like today, any rational person would pause and slowly breathe in the cool ocean spray of Geographe Bay, Western Australia—spring in these parts was especially beautiful after all. They would then probably marvel at the white, sandy beach as it stretched uninterrupted for miles in front of them, before casting their eyes toward the sparkling aquamarine water which mirrored the endless blue sky above.
I wasn’t that person.
Hell, in that moment I was the physical embodiment of internal pandemonium. And I tried so hard to remember everything my psychologist, Doctor Powell, taught me about working through my anxiety-induced panic attacks—they had become more and more prevalent in the past few months—only nothing came to mind except the bleeding obvious.
Breathe, Riley, just breathe.
Way to be helpful, Doctor Powell.
So instead, I ran. Yeah, Doctor Powell was not going to be impressed. She always told me that rather than fixing the problem, avoidance exacerbated it because sooner or later I would have to deal with the issue I was trying to evade anyway. She was right, of course; the memory of my horrendous morning at work refused to dissipate. I shut my eyes for a split second as the recollection of my patient’s beseeching voice sent a sharp lancing pain through my stomach. “Nurse, what’s wrong with my baby? Why is he so quiet? Answer me, please.”
I stumbled, righted myself and then forced my legs faster. Stupid stomach.
The salty sea breeze whipped my straight blonde hair into my eyes and I agitatedly brushed it aside, for once not caring if I was channeling my inner Angora rabbit.
Her cries were unrelenting. “Nurse, please. Help. Help.”
Only I couldn’t.
It was hopeless.
And if she was being honest with herself, my patient knew it too. After all, it was obvious from the twelve-week scan that the eventual outcome was never going to be good.
Why didn’t she listen?
Her obstetrician and I continuously spoke to her, counseled her, even bluntly told her the likelihood of her son surviving delivery was slim-to-none. But she persisted anyway. Faith, she called it. I snorted. More like delusion.
Tears stung my eyes. I hated feeling helpless, and that’s exactly what happened in the labor ward today. As much as I tried, I couldn’t force the little heart to beat, I couldn’t take away his mother’s agonizing grief. Hours later, I couldn’t
even block out her hysterical sobs.
I couldn’t do a goddamn thing.
So, rather than find a quiet spot to sit with the tormenting emotions and analyze each of them in turn like a scientist with OCD, I escaped to the beach for a run. There was no doubt about it, avoidance was definitely my coping mechanism of choice. However, in my defense, it turned out to be one heck of a workout. Surely, that was something, right?
Right?
I shook my head.
If someone happened to be strolling along the coastal promenade at that very moment and glanced down at me on the shoreline, it would have looked like I was being chased by an imaginary rabid dog which had just been burned with a branding iron. And then stung by a bee. Honestly, the speed I maintained was ridiculous, even by my standards.
I’d never pushed my body so hard. Even in my darkest days I always kept a little in reserve, but not in that moment. Heck no. Instead, I forced my legs faster again, ignoring the lactic acid as it slowly burned its way up my calves. My lungs were almost bursting and my vision blurred dangerously but still I didn’t stop.
At breakneck speed, I blindly rounded the rocky outcrop. It jutted toward the ocean like an old woman accusingly pointing her crooked finger up at the sun.
And then wished I hadn’t.
Oomph.
I hit a cement pillar. Well, one which swore like a drunken sailor. Even my best friend and housemate, Grace—arguably the most foul-mouthed woman in the history of the universe—would have been impressed. I flew through the air and landed flat on my back, sprawled out on the damp sand. I couldn’t breathe. Literally. Rolling over until I was crouching on all fours, I gasped, choked and quite possibly retched, pleading with my lungs to filter through some much-needed oxygen.
“You all right?”
I was too busy heaving to reply to the deep, male voice. Probably for the best; his gravelly tone sounded like sin-wrapped temptation. Instead, I dropped my head onto the sand, begging my breathing to return to normal. Unfortunately, when it finally did, embarrassment set in along with my ever unhelpful inner monologue.
Oh, my God, I fell over in front of a total stranger, who does that? Maybe he was looking the other way and didn’t see? Who am I kidding, he totally did. Probably filmed it and everything. Knowing my luck, by this time tomorrow I’ll be an internet sensation, there’ll be memes and everything. Sweet Lord in heaven, I actually want to crawl into a hole and die.
“You okay to sit up?” His low, husky voice cut through my internal meltdown.
“No,” I mumbled into the sand, ignoring the fact that my thighs instinctively clenched together at the sound.
Is he kidding me? There’s no way I can face him. Not only will he think I’m the most uncoordinated woman alive, but his voice is sexy enough to feature in a Kendrick Lamar song, for God’s sake. I’m not strong enough to deal with that shit.
“You ever gonna sit up?”
“Nope.”
He snickered again. “So, you’re gonna stay like this until the tide takes you out?”
“That’s the plan.”
I could almost hear the man smile and felt heat rushing to my cheeks, though didn’t for one second forget my weakness for badass musicians—real or imagined—and my consequent decision to steer clear of them at all costs.
“Look, if you sit up I’ll promise not to say a word about the epic fall you just had. Okay?”
I swore under my breath. Mortified, that’s what I felt. Completely. Fucking. Mortified.
“Come on.” His large hands gently gripped my shoulders, shifting me to sitting position. I inhaled sharply as the contact of his fingers against my bare skin sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine.
Please don’t moan, please don’t moan, please—
And then he laughed.
Fuck.
It was deep, throaty and by far the most panty-obliterating sound I had ever heard. I squirmed in the sand. Nope. The movement did absolutely nothing to ease the sudden tension between my legs.
“Open your eyes, angel.”
“Do I have to?”
“At some point, yeah.”
I sighed, peeked out the corner of one eye and then forgot to breathe. Again. My other eye instinctively popped open and I’m pretty sure my mouth did too.
Holy shit.
Two bright blue eyes gazed laughingly down at me. His straight nose, full lips, and chiseled jawline led to what was in all seriousness, the most stunning male physique I’d ever had the pleasure to ogle.
Wow. I mean… Just wow.
I swallowed.
A grey t-shirt slick with sweat stretched across the most unbelievably ripped upper body in the history of pecs and abs. This guy was strong. Not bodybuilder strong, more like I’m-gonna-push-you-up-against-the-wall-and-have-my-wicked-way-with-you strong. In other words, everything I’d ever dreamed about strong.
My stomach almost folded in on itself.
Through the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, I could see broad shoulders, strong biceps, washboard abdominals. and—I almost groaned out loud—my most favorite of all body parts, the distinctly molded V leading directly down to…
I licked suddenly parched lips.
Beautiful.
He laughed again.
Slapping a hand over my mouth, I gasped. “I actually said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, God.”
If there was ever an ideal moment for a king tide, it was now.
Thankfully, the beautiful stranger ignored my mammoth foot in mouth and held out a hand for me to grasp, his pupils dilating when our fingers touched. Dazed, I wasn’t at all prepared for the quick jerk of his arm and ended up face first in his muscular chest.
Oomph.
Again.
Seriously, can this day get any worse?
A short while later, we were slowly making our way back along the foreshore. I refused to look at the man strolling next to me, doing so would only end in further embarrassment and I’d had enough for one day. Sadly, the guy in question would not let me walk back to my car alone—I had smacked into him pretty hard—and if I wasn’t so concerned about doing or saying something stupid, I probably would have thanked him for his kindness.
I sighed. If only I was one of those girls who could easily make sparkling conversation wherever they went. Don’t get me wrong, Mum did everything she could to improve my awkwardness. She dealt with it like a long-term disease, one which needed continual treatment. I was systematically signed up for dress and deportment classes, hair and beauty lessons, public speaking programs, the works. Being the daughter of a world-renowned cardiologist and a bored housewife meant that from childhood I’d had to endure more glittering charity galas than I cared to remember. But despite everyone’s best efforts, I still didn’t know what to do with myself when surrounded by anyone other than close friends.
It sucked.
I shook my head and stared down at the imprints my shoes made in the sand. There was no way a deportment class could have prepared me for colliding with the hottest man ever to grace running shorts. And there sure as hell was no guidebook outlining what to do after openly gawking at said man and blurting out how beautiful his cock was. I bit my lip to stop an anguished groan.
“You’re blushing.”
I glanced up before quickly looking away again.
He nudged me teasingly. “Why are you blushing?”
I kept quiet.
“Forget it, I already know why anyway. You’re not the first woman to lose her shit over my—”
I stopped and glared up at him. “Enough, okay? This has already been the day from hell and you’re only making it worse.”
His mocking smile slipped. “Hey, I’m just joking around.”
“Yeah, at my expense.”
Shrugging one shoulder, he replied, “You kinda make it easy. All I have to do is look at you and your skin flushes pink or you say something fuckin’ hilarious.”
I blu
shed again.
Damn it.
He grinned. “See?”
I made a frustrated noise in the back of my throat and stalked off in the direction of my car. I needed to get as far away from the guy as possible, his earthy scent was messing with my equilibrium and the way his lips quirked up in the corners made me want to bite something. Hard.
So I unzipped my pocket and hastily fished out some keys, only heavy footsteps chased me.
“Wait up.”
Internally, I groaned; however, not wanting to appear rude, I took a deep, steadying breath and slowly turned around.
In my peripheral vision, I spied a group of bikini-clad women openly admiring the mouth-watering man candy as he winked and leisurely jogged past them. “Ladies.”
Great, a live audience. This is going to be beyond awkward.
He rounded the top step and held out a large hand while I warily stared down at it. “My name’s Dominic, by the way.”
After a moment’s pause, I reached out and clasped his fingers, biting my lip at the heated contact of his skin and the power it could wield over me if given half a chance.
“Riley, Riley Sears. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I mumbled.
Thanks, Mum.
“Trust me, Riley Sears, the pleasure’s all mine.” His lopsided grin had me dumbly gaping at him for a while.