Emily’s smile glowed. “You guys were great. I recognized all the songs this time.”
Jack cocked his head to the side.
Emily looked down. “I downloaded all your songs when I got home Friday, I fell asleep listening to them.”
She’d told him that Nicki was the fan. He was honored that she wanted to listen to their catalogue. He set her on her feet and cupped her face in his hands. He leaned down and kissed her, pouring all the love he felt into it. She’d given him copies of her books, but he hadn’t had a chance to read them yet. He’d make time. “Baby…”
Her eyes shone up at him with lust, for sure, but something else, too. Love?
“Enough, you two,” Elliot said. He stood next to them, smirking. He rubbed his unruly black hair with a towel. “Encore time.” He clapped Jack on the shoulder.
Jack’s heart leaped in his chest. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure they should do “With You” as part of the encore. It still needed work, but he’d played that song for Em. She knew what it meant, and she was a private person. Jack swallowed hard and rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll be back.”
As Holden handed him his Martin, Elliot said, “Man, if you’re having second thoughts…”
Curt and Buzz nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we don’t have to do it,” Buzz said.
Jack looked at his brothers. They knew each other so well. “Thanks. How about ‘Empty Shapes?’ It’s been awhile.”
Curt cocked his head to the side. “What about ‘Letting You Go?’ The single and video drop Friday.”
Jack winced. He was sorry, now more than ever, they’d agreed for that song to be the third single. They’d shot the video in the beginning of April. As soon as they’d finished, he’d flown to L.A. because Christie’s friend Amber had called him, concerned that Christie hadn’t been answering her phone or door.
“Fuck, Jack, I’m sorry…” Curt said.
“No, it’s fine. We’ve been putting it off long enough.”
Buzz craned his neck around Jack. “What about Emily? Should we really be doing a song about your ex while she’s here?”
Jack looked over to where Em and Nicki were deep in conversation. Nicki had been here on Saturday when they’d done “With You” as part of the encore, and he’d told Em he had a surprise for her, but he hadn’t thought this through.
Elliot clapped Jack on the back. “‘Empty Shapes’ it is.”
Buzz and Curt nodded in agreement. “It’s better anyway,” Curt said. “We don’t need to change guitars.”
“What’re you gonna tell Emily?” Buzz asked.
“I haven’t a fucking clue.”
The band returned to the stage and killed the three-song encore. He glanced over and saw Nicki’s confused expression, so he winked at her. She nodded and looked relieved.
After the encore, the band cleaned up before doing the VIP meet and greet. Emily and Nicki waited in the dressing room. One of the fans was particularly handsy, and Jack had Jeff escort the young lady away. Most of their female fans were respectful, but every so often, one took liberties they weren’t entitled to. Nicki had been one of the worst, but she was with Curt now and never gave Jack another glance.
On the way to the dressing room, he pulled Buzz aside. “How you doing?” Jack felt bad he hadn’t been spending as much time with Buzz since Em had come into his life.
Buzz smiled. “I’m okay. I haven’t spent much time in the city”—Buzz shuffled his feet as he looked down—“a lot of memories.”
I’m such an asshole. “You wanna hang?”
Buzz looked back at him. “Man, stop it, okay. It’s not your job to babysit me. You and Emily have two days left. I really like her, and it’s good to see you happy. Listen, if you want to skip working out—”
“Not a chance.” Jack smirked. “Em insisted. She doesn’t want me to stop working out, says I have to maintain my body just the way it is.”
Buzz’s grateful smile was all Jack needed. He’d never have blown Buzz off, and he was glad that Em understood.
It was well after midnight by the time they got back to their room. Jack showered while Emily brushed her teeth and washed up. When he strolled into the bedroom, naked and ready, she was sound asleep. He looked down at his dick, like a divining rod pointing at Emily’s sleeping body. “Looks like we’ll have to wait.”
He crawled into bed, turned off the light, and spooned his girl.
In the middle of the night, he awoke to feel Emily’s lips close around his cock. He’d been having a sex dream. Emily had been stroking his cock and eyeing his erection with a wild hunger that made him throb. But now, he suspected that Emily had been providing external stimulation.
He was on his back, the covers tossed aside. Moonlight poured in through the windows, and a wide beam of it was across his groin. He watched as his engorged cock disappeared into her mouth, only to reappear a few moments later. She cupped his balls, gently rolling them, and her other hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Every so often, her hand would follow her mouth up the length of his shaft, and her tongue moved back and forth on the underside. She held his cock in place while her tongue circled the head. He felt a bead of cum form and watched as she eagerly lapped it up with her tongue.
She loved sucking his cock as much as he loved eating her pussy. His dick jerked in response to the image in his head of him eating her pussy while he plundered her with three fingers. His balls tightened, and he felt tingling at the base of his spine. “So close.” When he was fully in her mouth, she hummed, and he came hard.
She moaned as she swallowed, licking him carefully from base to tip, cleaning every last drop off. She sat up with a satisfied grin. She crawled up his body and straddled his torso, leaning down to kiss his lips.
He opened his mouth, enjoying the taste of himself on her tongue. Several minutes passed as Jack sank into the joy of making out with his girl. Her lips were soft, and she nibbled him with her teeth. “Give me five minutes, and I’m going to fuck you into tomorrow.”
Her hand traveled down his chest and grasped his semi-hard cock. “A, it is tomorrow.” She paused to kiss him, biting his bottom lip. “And B, I don’t think you need five minutes.”
He held her face in place so he could kiss her while she continued to gently stroke his cock back to hard. “What you do to me…”
Catching her off guard, he flipped their positions, sheathed himself, and thrust into her so hard her breath caught. “Too much?”
She chuckled. “You know I like it rough.”
He fucked her hard, pumping into her with such force her head knocked against the headboard. He quickly adjusted them and then resumed slamming into her. He dipped his head and took her nipple into his mouth. She arched her back, giving him better access. She moaned his name, and he felt her tighten around him. Her convulsions pushed him over the edge, and he came.
He rolled off and lay on his back. He needed to take care of the condom, but he couldn’t move. His heart pounded against his rib cage, and he struggled to get enough air in his lungs. Emily rolled onto her side, her breathing as erratic as his.
“That was fucking incredible, Jack.”
She lay in his arms with her head resting on his shoulder. Fuck the rubber. Even though his body was sated, Jack’s mind darted around with the uncertainty of their relationship. He loved her, but Em wasn’t in love with him. Not yet, anyway.
J
On Tuesday, Emily woke as the sun barely crept over the horizon. She crawled out of bed, trying not to wake Jack. He groaned in his sleep and turned onto his side. She slipped on his T-shirt, grabbed her laptop, and went into the living room. It was chilly, so she turned the gas fireplace on and sat cross-legged on the couch.
“Hey, why didn’t you wake me?” Jack said, running his hand through his hair as he walked naked into the living room.
Startled, Emily looked up. Morning sun cascaded through the seam of the curtains. She lo
oked at the time on her computer. It was after eight. She saved her work, put her laptop on the coffee table, stood, and stretched. Her leg ached from being in one position too long. She needed to do yoga and get her butt back in the gym to resume strength training. Jack gabbed her around the waist and hauled her to him. His lips crashed onto hers.
“Mmm,” she moaned against his lips. “Good morning to you, too.”
Jack glanced at her laptop. “Did you get a lot done?”
Emily nodded and rested her cheek on Jack’s chest. Her eyes stung from staring at the screen too long. She usually took a break every thirty minutes or so, to keep her leg loose and rest her eyes, but she’d been sitting at the computer for over three hours.
She felt Jack’s stomach rumble, which her stomach answered with a rumble of its own. And she needed coffee.
Still holding her, Jack picked up the room phone and ordered breakfast.
Thirty minutes later, they sat at the table, enjoying pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage. Emily smiled to herself, remembering their first breakfast together.
“Wicked smiles will get you in trouble, young lady.” From the lustful gleam in his sparkling blue eyes, she knew he was remembering their first breakfast, too.
She looked at Jack over her orange juice glass and batted her lashes at him. “I have no idea what you are referring to,” she said in a prim tone.
Jack stood. He’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants but no shirt. Emily wanted to lick him everywhere. Jack’s phone bleated from the bedroom. Jack glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Shit. Buzz.”
Jack walked to her and pulled her up against him. “Rain check?” He waggled his brows up and down.
Emily pouted. “Okay.” Jack was being a good friend to Buzz, and Emily would never want to come between them.
“I need this.” He grabbed the hem of the T-shirt and whipped it over her head and pulled it on. Emily stood there naked, gaping at him.
Jack grinned, grabbed his phone, and dialed Buzz back. “On my way.” He smirked at her as he opened the door only far enough so he could slip out.
Emily picked up a pillow off the couch and threw it at the closed door. She smiled as she went into the bedroom and quickly dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt. She unrolled her yoga mat in the living room and sat. Stretching both legs out in front of her, she inhaled deeply and bent forward, wrapping her hands around her feet. Her left leg was fine, but the muscles in her right leg didn’t want to cooperate. She closed her eyes and tried to relax the muscles in her thigh.
When she heard footsteps outside the door, Emily sat up. Jack had only been gone a few minutes. “What’d you forget?” she said. When the door didn’t open, she realized Jack must’ve forgotten his key card. “Coming.” Emily stood and opened the door, but no one was there.
She looked out into the hallway and didn’t see anyone, but there was a faint whiff of perfume. A housekeeping cart was parked in front of the room three doors down. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
The chambermaid came out of the room with an armful of sheets. When she saw Emily, she asked, “Miss, do you need something?”
“Were you outside room thirty-seven twenty-one a minute ago?”
“No, I’ve been in here for ten minutes. Is everything okay?”
Emily nodded. Her new novel had a suspense element, so her imagination must be running amok. Maybe one of their neighbors stopped to check their phone. “Thank you.” Emily suppressed a shudder and went back into her room.
chapter
SEVEN
Jack strummed his guitar as he watched Emily work. She was jotting down notes for her new book because she had a dream last night that sparked an idea. He felt more connected to her than ever because that happened to him, too. They’d won their first Grammy for “Empty Shapes,” a song he’d written in the middle of the night after waking from a dream. Em had such laser focus while working that he felt like she didn’t know he was in the room.
Christie used to say that all he cared about was his music. It wasn’t true; he’d loved her. But she’d grown to resent the amount of time he spent in his studio. Jack loved music, and she’d accused him of loving it more than her, which he’d dismissed because it was stupid. But watching Em work now, locked in her own world, maybe he understood what she’d meant.
He knew when he was working on a new song that he had tunnel vision. And yeah, he spent seventy-five percent of his life on the road, but Christie knew that going into it, and he’d spent plenty of hours running lines with her. It only started to be an issue after they’d moved to California. Jack was beginning to think that had been the beginning of the end.
Christie was an amazing actress, but it took a lot of hard work to get ahead in any creative industry. She’d told him the night they’d met that her dream was to move to L.A., get discovered, and be a famous actress. She’d been so young, barely twenty-one, and naive. She’d also been sweet and caring, and Jack had been attracted to those qualities as much as he’d been to her physical beauty.
Maybe she’d really thought she’d be one of the lucky ones to be an overnight success. Jack doubted that overnight success was even a thing, but it made for a good headline.
Jack’s text alert sounded. Jeff’s typical text: Garage 5
He closed his notebook and set his acoustic in the stand. “Gotta go.”
Em wrapped her arms around him. Tilting her head up, she kissed him hard. Damn. Not that he didn’t love it when she kissed him like that, but he had to leave. And now he wanted to stay; he wanted her. “Baby, I have to go,” he groaned.
She immediately stepped back but had a wicked gleam in her eye. She wanted him to stay, too. His heart stuttered. He forced his legs to walk him to the door. His hand rested on the doorknob. Why’s this so hard?
“Jack.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“When you get back… I’m going to need you to fuck me.” She turned and sauntered into the bedroom.
He quickly turned the knob, opened the door, stepped in the hall, and closed the door. He took two steps in the wrong direction and leaned up against the wall. “Where have you been all my life?” When his text alert went off again, he knew he was late. He was never late. He took a deep breath, pushed off the wall, and started in the wrong direction again. Shit. He turned and ran to the elevator.
On the ride down, he checked the text. Jeff again: ?!
He laughed as the elevator doors opened. He hustled over to the SUV waiting to take them to the radio station. As soon as he closed the door, the SUV lurched forward.
The guys had knowing smiles on their faces and looked at each other but not at him. Even Curt had beat him. “Sorry.”
“For being happy?” Elliot asked.
Jack grinned. “Em’s amazing.”
“Is she coming with us?” Curt asked.
Jack’s heart sank. He wished. He refused to ask her because he knew it was too soon, and she had a job.
Elliot smacked Curt upside the head, dislodging a chunk of his blond hair from his signature ponytail. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What?” Curt said, fixing his hair. “Oh shit, sorry, man.”
Jack sighed. “It’s okay. Nicki seems great.”
Curt beamed, and his blue eyes sparkled. “She is. I’m...I think I’m falling in love with her.”
Jack was truly happy for his friend. When Curt’s ex-fiancée had ended their engagement, he’d been heartbroken. Curt had a gentleness about him that Jack never wanted to see crushed.
“That’s cool, man,” Elliot said.
“Yeah,” Buzz said, looking out the window.
“Buzz, maybe it’s time you got back out there,” Curt said.
Buzz looked at them and shook his head. “Not ready.”
Since they’d been on tour, to Jack’s knowledge, Buzz hadn’t indulged. He was introverted, and alcohol had always helped him loosen up
enough to be more social. He had it under control until he’d met Sally, who didn’t drink but loved pot. After Buzz fucked up his knee skiing, pain killers entered the mix, and it went downhill from there.
When Sally had overdosed, Buzz had gotten her to the hospital just in time, thank God. She’d been in a coma for four days; the worst four days of his life he’d said. When she woke, she’d blamed Buzz because she’d found his stash and had a party. Jack never understood how that had been Buzz’s fault. She went into rehab and broke up with him when she’d gotten out. Turned out she'd met a guy in rehab, which was a huge no-no. There was a reason they told recovering addicts not to dive into any new relationships.
Buzz kept falling until his parents had surprised him at his apartment last summer. He was unconscious on the kitchen floor. Poor Aunt Mel had thought he was dead. Uncle Garth had called 911, and they’d rushed him to the hospital. Turned out he’d slipped on spilled water and hit his head. He had a mild concussion, but he hadn’t OD’d.
Buzz went into rehab and had been sober ever since. Two hundred and twenty-one days. Jack was so fucking proud of him. He tried to play it down, but Jack could always tell when he was struggling. Like yesterday morning. They’d worked out longer than usual. Jack was glad to help.
When they got to the radio station, the crew had their guitars and Buzz’s Càjon box drum ready to go. They played ten songs, a mix from all their albums. They took questions in between songs from the audience, and they loved it. Playing huge venues was great, but they lost a certain intimacy that they all enjoyed when they played to a smaller crowd.
After the gig, they went upstairs for the interview with the afternoon DJs, Brandon and Bobbi. Brandon was cool, and he asked a lot about the inspiration for the songs on their new album, since they’d played their third single “Letting You Go.”
“Wow, that’s a great song,” Brandon said.
“Thanks.” Contrary to popular belief, every song he wrote wasn’t about him. But this one was.
No More Yesterdays: A Rock Star Romance (Rocked in Love Book 2) Page 6