Rock Me: A Rockstar Romance

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Rock Me: A Rockstar Romance Page 10

by Wood, Vivian


  He kicked into a higher gear, one hand teasing along the seam of her sex and the other pulling her right breast free from her bra and thumbing her hard nipple as he back arched and she tried to press herself somehow closer to him. She needed more, she needed him.

  Her body was responding to his talented hands in a way that it had never responded before, and she could feel heat pooling between her legs. She never wanted this to stop.

  He pulled off her soaked panties, still running his fingers along the seam of her sex, breaking off their kiss for only a second to whisper, “God, you’re so fucking wet for me” before bringing his lips back to hers with the hunger of a starving man. He stroked a slow circle around her now exposed clit and she saw fireworks, and another moan - much louder now - escaped. He flicked it softly, with just the right amount of pressure and ran his finger down through her wetness and slid it inside her. The feeling was exquisite, she squirmed, but she still needed more. Her hips had started rolling against him of their own accord and she couldn’t seem to stop them - not that she tried to.

  She reached for his jeans and cupped his hard, thick length over them, squeezing and running her hand up and down over the material. He gave another low growl. “Christ Serena, what’re you fucking doing to me?” She moaned into his mouth, encouraged by his words. She squeezed him harder, stroked him with the palm of her hand as she fumbled with his button, opened his zipper and dipped her hand into his underwear.

  He reached down and managed to pull off his jeans and his underwear by the time her aroused mind had caught up to what was happening. She could feel his hard cock stroking her slit, right at her entrance, when she heard her own voice.

  “Wait!” She surprised herself as much as she thought she surprised him. She broke off the best kiss she'd ever had, her mind hazy with lust and her voice laced with desire, despite the word she had spoken. He stilled his hand immediately, withdrawing from her and she felt like crying from the sudden absence of his touch.

  “I can’t, Rhys. Not like this,” she begged quietly. Of course, he had no way of knowing that what she was talking about was losing her virginity in the back of a limousine, but he clearly got the message and within seconds, he was sitting fully clothed again at the other end of the bench, not touching her at all.

  “Rhys, it’s just,” she began.

  “No, Serena. I shouldn’t have. Don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

  “Rhys, please, it’s not that, I-” she tried again, but he didn’t let her finish.

  “Drop it, Serena. Fuck.” He pulled his hands through his long hair and let out a long, frustrated breath.

  No more words were spoken between them on the ride back to his house. He didn’t so much as even look at her.

  Fuck. She should’ve handled that better.

  14

  Days had gone by since she had almost lost her virginity to Rhys in the back of that limo. He had gone out again after, but hadn’t told her that he was leaving or where he was going. Or who he was with… The pit in her stomach felt heavier every time she started thinking about who he might be spending time with. He’d been pretty riled up and for a man not known for monogamy, who was essentially and in truth single, she was quite sure he hadn’t spent the night moping around and crying occasionally like she had.

  In the time that had followed, she honestly couldn’t say that she'd spoken to him much. He didn’t seem interested in speaking to her, conversation between them, when it happened at all, was strained and mostly consisted of no more than a few words. They still went out every day, but not for more than an hour.

  Yesterday was just a quick trip to a nearby store for some groceries they didn’t need. He usually just had everything delivered and the last delivery had been perfectly on time.

  It was clear to her that he just didn’t want to spend more time with her than that. She'd tried talking to him, to explain, but he simply cut her off and refused to hear her out.

  Her skin still tingled every time he touched her, they had to keep up appearances after all and she desperately wanted him to kiss her again, but he barely even looked at her when they weren't out and even then, there was something different in the way he looked at her. He was guarded. Even when they were out, their kisses had been reduced to a quick peck on the cheek or forehead.

  She'd tried to satisfy the ache that still lived between her legs every time she relived the scene that had played out in the limo, but she hadn’t had any luck. It was still there. If her vagina could talk, she was pretty sure it would have been hurling insults and curses at her all week. In fact, she was quite sure it was getting revenge by denying her what they both needed by not being satisfied with her touch at all.

  Anders had been discharged from hospital, but other than that, Rhys hadn’t told her much of anything. Not what he did or where he went, he was never home unless it was to pick her up for their daily outing or when he would drop her off.

  Yesterday, she’d ventured into the home gym, hoping to blow off some steam for the first time since their last session with Marco. Rhys must have had Marco training him somewhere else.

  The novelty of being there without him had long since worn off, and she was just looking for something to distract her. She'd never been one for tedious exercise, but it seemed like as good a distraction as any. Distraction. The word felt ugly to her now and reverberated in her skull, Deacon's derisive voice screamed it at her all the time.

  Though she hadn’t seen him, he’d clearly been down there.

  Still, she had this crazy need to be close to him, so she grabbed a discarded t-shirt that he had thrown off god knows when and inhaled the scent. Sweat and Rhys’ slightly woody aftershave. Everything but Rhys himself.

  Milo had texted her the morning after the limo disaster, but he’d left her with more questions than answers. She scrolled back to their short conversation, staring at her phone like it could give her the answers she needed.

  Milo: What the fuck happened, Sese?

  Serena: What do you mean?

  Milo: You and Rhys. What happened?

  Serena: Nothing! Really… Just a misunderstanding, but he won’t let me explain…

  Milo: Fuck. Okay.

  Serena: Why? Is he okay?!

  Milo: No, he’s like a caged fucking animal. I gotta run. Later, Sese.

  And that was it. Radio silence from Camp Milo from there on out. She’d tried reaching out to him, but the man who she had started seeing as her surrogate brother was ignoring her. She could see he was reading her messages, he was just choosing not to answer.

  Deacon and Annie had done a great job at keeping Anders’ overdose out of the press, as promised, but with sightings of Rhys and Serena in public having declined so drastically in such a short period of time, rumorrs had started running wild.

  She'd spoken to Mary and Katie, both of whom sounded really worried about her, but she'd managed to calm them down. They had wanted to visit yesterday, but the paparazzi were still camped out outside and she wouldn’t know what to say to them anyway. So instead, she had told them that Rhys and she had plans and searched for traces of him online.

  This is ridiculous, she thought, scrolling through the articles that had been published just since yesterday. Some journalists speculated that they had broken up, while others speculated that they were planning a secret wedding.

  One particularly imaginative journalist was quite convinced that she had been forced to abort Rhys’ baby by his band members who didn’t approve and weren’t ready for a Misery baby.

  Where did they come up with this stuff?

  With little distraction however, there were also scores of articles speculating about why Luc hadn’t been seen in weeks, several journalists unknowingly hitting the nail on the head with speculation about rehab and others reporting that Anders had been hospitalized, but that the reason for the hospitalization was unclear.

  News of the OD was under wraps for now, but it was clear that the vultures were circling
. People were starved for news from the band, but not enough news was forthcoming from the band itself, so some journalists seemed to have decided that they would just make news up.

  She kind of understood their frustration, however, since she had also been frozen out. Despite living with the Guitar Prince himself.

  Just then, her phone beeped, signaling an incoming text.

  Can’t talk now, will call later. Not going to be able to pick you up today. Will ask Annie throw the paps a bone to play with today, planning something big.

  -R

  Such a romantic! She smirked as she reread his text. What kind of bone was he planning on throwing? They hadn’t been out properly for days? She gave up…

  Resigned to yet another day alone, she grabbed her phone, earphones and Kindle and headed outside. These past few days she had spent so much time alone here, that she had explored every nook and cranny of the house and garden and she was pretty sure she knew it better than Rhys now.

  She stretched out in one of the loungers next to the pool, making sure that she was fully in the shade of the large umbrella, and started reading. She must have dozed off, because next thing she knew, her phone was ringing and Rhys’s face - giving her that smile she hadn’t seen in days- was staring out at her from the screen.

  What were the chances that the person you were dreaming about was the reason you woke up? Little to none. So she answered the phone, trying to force herself to be casual, but not entirely convinced that she wasn't dreaming.

  “Hi,” she answered in a quiet voice.

  In the back of her mind, she knew it probably wouldn't be long before he told her to leave. She just hoped that today was not that day.

  “Hey, princess,” he said. Where the hell did that come from? They hadn’t spoken more than a few words all week and now he was all relaxed and calling her princess again?

  She heard snickering in the background and someone making a catcall, someone that sounded suspiciously like Milo. At least she now knew that he was with the band. She’d been having nightmares that he was off having sex with a different girl every night again and staying at their houses so that he could avoid her presence in his own. Maybe he still had been and he was just with the band now… Her heart ached at the thought. She hadn’t seen him around with any girls. There was nothing on his social media pages or anything on him other than the few articles about their icy outings, but that didn’t prove what he had, or hadn’t, been doing.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry about the other night. I shouldn’t have done that. I was out of my mind, yeah? I never should have forced myself on you like that! I’m really, really sorry. Could you please forgive me?”

  Stunned. That had to be the only word to describe her feelings over what he had just said and the fact that he had said it at all.

  “Whoa, hold up there cowboy.” What was she, an idiot? Of everything she could have led with, hold up there cowboy? Really? Too late to take it back now, so she ignored the chuckle on the other end of the line and said her piece.

  “You didn’t force yourself on me, Rhys! Trust me! I wanted it just as badly as you did! I was definitely a voluntary participant, it’s just, I didn’t want to… ah… if the circumstances had been different, I really wouldn’t have stopped you.” He chuckled and then breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t say anything more about it.

  “So, we’re still doing… our thing?”

  “Yes, Rhys. As far as I’m concerned.”

  “Good. Great, actually. ‘Cause I’ve got a huge distraction planned for tonight. And I really need you there for it!”

  “Okay, anything I can do to help?”

  “I’m having some stuff sent over. Choose whatever you’re happy with and be ready by nine?”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah, princess, for now. I’m not going to have time to pick you up, so I’m asking Thomas to bring you to me, that okay?”

  “Sure, yeah. I like Thomas.”

  She heard the buzzer for the gate go off in the house.

  “I think whatever you’ve sent over is here Rhys, so I’ve gotta go.”

  “See you later, princess!”

  What was it with this princess thing again suddenly? Sure, she loved it! But why was he doing it? The band really should have been called Mystery. She heaved a sigh and headed inside to open the gate.

  He seemed to have bought another entire shop by the looks of the boxes and garment bags being carried into the living room by the delivery people.

  She signed off for the delivery and waited until the gate closed behind the van before returning to the living room. She started tearing open the packages right there. Why not? She was alone anyway. The cleaning lady wasn’t even in today.

  Shortly after she’d first moved in, she'd insisted that they didn’t need a full-ti housekeeper, at least for the ti that she would be here. Rhys was still paying her full salary though, so she’d encouraged her to pursue her education in her spare time and maybe find something she was passionate about. She’d practically kissed her and Rhys had chuckled as she mumbled something about kids and rushed out. She still checked in every morning when she wasn't here and made sure that the groceries were delivered on time.

  Her breath caught as she took in the first dress he had sent over. What the? The last time he had sent over clothes, they had been elegant, beautiful designer masterpieces. These dresses were not that.

  Five dresses in all. All in the same scandalous style. He wanted her to dress up like a showgirl?

  The first dress she opened was made only with round white pearls, held together by an almost invisible layer of material underneath and she was quite sure the beads wouldn’t even cover her ass. The neckline was low enough to barely cover the nipples of a less-endowed girl and while she hadn't been standing in the front of the queue on the day when those had been handed out, she certainly hadn’t been standing in the back either. There was no way those would cover her entire breasts.

  The next three were, however, just as short and skimpy but instead of beads, they had feathers. Lots of colorful feathers and sequins and tight bodices that she wasn't sure would cover much of anything really.

  The last one was the one she ended up choosing because she liked its color best.

  It also had feathers, but only a few tasteful peacock feathers flaring up over the low neckline. The corset bodice of the dress looked like it would be skintight, but it was a beautiful, shiny turquoise that she loved.

  The “skirt” was black tulle that she was certain would be see-through in the light, but she had a beautiful black pair of panties that she thought would cover her up enough and look like they were meant to be a part of this dress.

  The rest of the boxes and packages contained headgear, accessories, jewellery, makeup, perfume and shoes.

  She carefully sifted through the purchases he had made and selected the rest of her outfit. If she was going to look ridiculous, she was going to do it properly.

  Still, she should just check whether this was a joke or if this was really what he wanted her to wear.

  She pulled out her phone from underneath the heap of feathers, sequins, lace and heaven only knew what else and fired off a quick text.

  Serena: You serious? Showgirl?? I’m going to look ridiculous in all of this!

  His reply was almost instantaneous.

  Rhys: You never look ridiculous. You’re going to look sexeee.

  Serena: Sexeee? Really?

  Rhys: ;)

  Rhys: Don’t worry, you’re not the only one dressing up for this

  Serena: You’re dressing up like a showgirl too? What’s your dress look like?

  Rhys: Haha. Pretty. I always look pretty. Bet I could pull it off.

  Serena: That you do, sir. That you most certainly do. But I think we’ll need to test your theory about pulling it off soon.

  Rhys: Gotta go princess. Lots to do. We’ll see about testing my theory later…

  For some reason, her mouth had go
ne dry at his last text.

  Serena: Right. See you later

  If she was going to do this right, she had better get started on getting ready. If it had been anyone other than Rhys that had asked her to wear this, she would never have gone through with it, but it was Rhys asking, so she simply sighed as she grabbed everything that she needed and headed upstairs to her bathroom.

  15

  So, she’d nearly broken a couple of bones getting into this dress, but it was 9:00 on the dot and she was ready. Finally. Bones intact.

  She gave a final look at her reflection and headed out toward Thomas and the car that would take her to Rhys.

  About fifteen minutes later, she stepped out of the SUV that Thomas had parked right out in front of a club, her eyes wide.

  She had gone all out with her makeup and had spent almost an hour giving herself dark smoky eyes. She had even applied so glitter. She’d taken her long, dark hair up and had pinned a smaller peacock feather into the updo. Turquoise feathered earrings dangled from her ears and she had paired the outfit with black skyscraper heels.

  She felt outrageous outside of the club but once she stepped inside, she saw that the entire club looked outrageous. It was made up like an actual burlesque club and whoever was paying for this little shindig had spared no expense in making sure that it fit the theme down to every last detail.

  There were servers circulating with champagne in coupe glasses, harlequin dancers on aerial silks everywhere, flashing lights and even a girl up on stage doing an act and stripping down to her pasties.

  She didn’t see anyone she knew coming in, but as if he were calling out to her, she felt a pull toward the left side of the stage and sure enough, there he was.

  He was dressed as a 1920s gent and looked like he had stepped right out of a party at Jay Gatsby’s house, straight into this party. The look worked for him, although who was she kidding - all looks worked for him.

 

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