Rock Hard Series: Book 1
Garrett
A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance
Lilian Monroe
www.lilianmonroe.com
Twitter: @Lily_Author
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Copyright © 2018 Lilian Monroe All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author except for short quotations used for the purpose of reviews.
Chapter 1 - Garrett
Whoa.
When our band’s manager, Tony, said we were getting a new Personal Relations team, I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting her. She walked into our rehearsal space wearing a fitted white blazer and a white skirt that was just begging to be ripped off. Her tight little waist and full, soft curves were screaming at me, and it took all my self-control to tear my eyes from her body up to her face.
That’s when she hit me with the don’t-fuck-with-me stare, and every muscle in my body tensed.
Especially the throbbing, thick muscle between my legs.
Oh I’d fuck with her, alright, no matter what stare she gave me. Looking at me all defiantly only made me want her more.
Before she even opened those soft pink lips of hers, I knew she was mine. One way or another, I’d claim her as my own, and I wasn’t going to let the look in her eyes distract me from that. I liked a challenge, and something about the way her eyes ran over me made my whole body spark.
It was probably wrong. It was probably inappropriate, seeing as she was supposed to be ‘fixing’ our image, or whatever. Supposedly, we needed a whole new PR team to help us get ourselves together. The past six months had been crazy, and up until she walked in, I didn’t want a new image at all.
But now?
Now I’d let her fix my image all day long. She moved those hips from side to side as she walked towards me and my blood turned to fire.
“Morgan Matthews,” she said, extending her hand towards me as I sat on a stool, my lucky guitar resting across my lap. Was it just me, or did I see a spark in those bright baby blue eyes of hers?
“Garrett–”
“Wood,” she interrupted with a little sexy smile playing on her lips. “I’ve heard of you.”
Her eyebrow quirked up just as I lifted my palm towards hers, sliding my guitar off my lap to hold it in my other hand. When she slipped her hand into mine, I had to stop myself from growling. Her skin was soft and supple, milky white against my tattooed skin. My forearm bulged as we shook hands and her eyes ran over it. Her hand felt tiny in mine, and every single bit of me itched to wrap my arms around her.
But no, that would be inappropriate. Probably. Right then, I was just trying to breathe normally. Her eyes lingered on mine. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and I stifled another growl. I watched as her gaze dropped down and roamed over my hard, muscled body.
I might have flexed a little when she did that.
Then, I saw her glance at the bulge in my pants.
Fuck.
That’s when I knew I was in trouble.
It wasn’t until Tony cleared his throat that I dropped her hand, and immediately regretted doing so. My palm throbbed where her skin had touched it, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, lifting my guitar back up to hide the tent in my pants. Tony shuffled beside me an introduced himself.
“Boys,” he said, turning to Carter, Maddox and I. “This is your new PR team. Meet Lacie, your new hair and makeup guru,” he pointed to the pretty little blonde behind Morgan. She was cute, in a normal kind of way, but she didn’t make my cock throb the way the vision in the white suit in front of me did. Tony continued as I struggled to listen to him. “Veronica, your official, behind-the-scenes photographer,” the good-looking brunette to Morgan’s left nodded, “and of course, the gorgeous Morgan Matthews, your new Personal Relations Manager. Also known as your new boss.”
Oh fuck no. There was only one boss in this room, and that was me. Morgan might have been looking at me like that, jutting her chin out and letting her eyes wander over my broad, muscular chest like she was in control, but she was wrong. She might not know it yet, but she was mine. Personal Relations was just about to get a lot more personal.
I just had a to find a way to show her how much she wanted me.
Carter and Maddox mumbled some pleasantries, and I managed to greet the other two women without too much trouble, but my eyes always drifted back to Morgan. She turned away from us and set her briefcase down on the ground next to the long, tattered sofa in front of our gear. I watched the sheer white fabric of her skirt stretch over that perfect ass of hers and struggled to keep all the blood from rushing between my legs.
I was hard. So fucking hard it hurt.
When she turned back around, she swept her arms open and smiled in a way that sent a bolt of lightening through my chest. She looked at me and tilted her head to the side, challenging me.
“Well,” she said in a low, gravelly voice that made my cock even harder. “Let’s hear what we’re working with.”
Oh, she was going to get it. She thought she could waltz into our rehearsal space, the biggest band since the fucking Beatles, and talk to me like I was a nobody?
Anger flared in my chest, alongside something else. Something deeper. Pure, raw desire raged through my veins, sending deep, pulsing waves of lust straight between my thighs. My eyes blazed as I stared at the woman, the vision, the bad, bad girl in front of me.
She saw me staring and sucked her lower lip between her teeth. Gotcha.
She caught herself, then, and rearranged her features to the stone-like businesswoman that had walked in. But I could see the blush spreading over her cheeks. She reached her delicate fingers up to brush her long, blonde hair behind her shoulder, and took a seat on the sofa.
I watched her, mesmerized. She crossed her legs in front of me and I craved—I needed to see what was between them. All I wanted to do was dive head-first between her long legs and taste that sticky, sweet honey that I’m sure was pooling between them.
Somehow, I managed to nod to the boys and we continued with the rehearsal.
We needed to rehearse, and we needed the PR team. My rockstar antics had been getting lots of press lately, and it wasn’t all good. We’d left a couple hotel rooms in less-than-stellar condition, and the backlash was getting more heated. That, and a couple failed ‘relationships’, and our once-popular band was taking a big hit in the papers.
Carter and Maddox weren’t innocent, either. They had their fair share of ink in the tabloids, between Carter’s messy divorce and Maddox’s legal troubles. Everything had happened at once, and for the past six months we’d been on a collision-course with ourselves.
So, between the three of us, yeah, we needed a PR team.
Somehow, we’d written a new album and we were launching it this week. I’m not sure how, but the raw pain that we’d all been going through had come out in equal parts of music and self-destruction. We needed a professional image re-do, and sleeping with the PR Manager probably wasn’t a good idea.
As we rehearsed, I strummed my guitar and sang into the microphone as best I could. I watched as her lips parted and her eyes never strayed from me. She stared at me like no one else existed and it electrified me. Her eyes roamed from my eyes, down my tattooed neck and over my hands as they strummed my guitar.
Was she wondering what it would feel like to be strummed by them? What it would feel like to have my deft, skillful fingers playing her like I was playing this instrument?
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Or maybe she was wondering what I was hiding in my pants. The thing that the tabloids loved to gossip about. The thing that had made many a groupie blush. The big, thick instrument that was rock hard between my legs.
Whatever she was looking at, her gaze made my whole body burn with desire. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone before. I wanted to take that defiant gaze and show her who the real boss was. I wanted to spread those lily-white legs and show her what a real man could do.
I wanted to claim her, and I wanted her to love every minute of it.
Chapter 2 - Morgan
I thought I was prepared.
I thought I was ready.
I thought I knew what I was getting myself into.
… I was wrong.
When Garrett Wood stared at me with those deep, dark eyes of his, I felt like I was stripped naked right then and there in their rehearsal space.
Maybe that’s what I wanted.
It took every ounce of professionalism to hold his gaze, and all my self-control to keep myself from melting to a puddle on the floor. A sticky, wet puddle.
As soon as he shook my hand, my panties were soaked and clinging to the lips between my thighs. Then, when he started singing, staring at me the whole time, I felt the familiar tremors coursing through my body and I thought I might come right there on the sofa just from the sound of his voice.
I’d heard the stories. I saw the bulge in his pants. My imagination could fill in the rest. As I sat there, I could almost feel his hands sizzling across my skin, and my body ached with a need for him. I’d felt it before, but not like this. This was stronger, more urgent. It was a need to be filled.
He strummed his guitar and belted out the last note of his song, singing into the microphone as if he was playing for a crowd of thousands and my body ached. My nipples hardened to little pebbles, brushing against the silky fabric of my blouse. I closed my eyes for just a second as a blush claimed my whole body.
No.
This was wrong.
This was so, so wrong.
Sure, he was hot. He was a rock star after all. But he was my client. He was the client of my career. I knew that my boss gave me this assignment because he thought it was doomed. I knew he wanted me to fail, so that I wouldn’t be a threat to his job anymore.
I knew that everything was riding on this assignment. My career, my future, my livelihood.
But right there, on that sofa, with Garret singing just for me and my panties soaking through. My whole body thrummed with pure, unadulterated lust and none of that mattered.
Because all that mattered was the want. The want that coursed through my veins like it never had before. I wanted him so badly it made my head spin and my body thrum with every beat of the song.
And that was very, very bad news. I could play the hard-ass manager. I could be the cold, professional bitch, but I wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. Sooner or later, if he didn’t realize already, Garret would know how much I wanted him.
How much I needed him.
I needed to know what was between those powerful, muscular legs of his. I needed to feel those rough, tattooed hands on my body and I needed him to take me.
I blushed as the band finished their final song. I’d never wanted a man like this before. I’d never felt the raw, powerful energy of a true man. With just one look, he’d demolished all the walls I’d built and made me want him in a primal way that I’d never experienced before.
I wanted to be his. All his.
I jumped when Veronica moved beside me to whisper in my ear.
“They’re good,” she said, almost reverently. Her eyes were glued on the bassist, Carter. I cleared my throat and nodded as she lifted her camera and took a few candid shots of the band.
She looked at me and grinned. “This is going to be the easiest job of my life,” she said, lifting up her camera again.
I tried to smile. I wasn’t so sure.
My whole body was just one big, flushing, sopping wet mess when they finished playing. Garrett put his guitar down on a stand and stood up, stretching his arms over head. His fitted black t-shirt lifted up, and I could see a strip of skin on his lower stomach. My breath caught in my throat as I saw his powerful lower abdominal muscles and the tattoos that covered his skin. His stomach carved a muscular ‘V’, guiding my eyes straight between his legs.
I looked away, brushing my hair behind my ear as I tried to swallow back the burning hot blush that creeped over my cheeks and neck.
No, there wasn’t going to be anything easy about this job.
Tony jumped up and clapped Garrett on the shoulder. “Nice!” He said, nodding his head up and down with a big cheesy grin on his face. “Now you just need to play like that at the Grammys next weekend, and we’ll be well on our way to a successful album launch!”
He looked at me for reassurance. I got up from the sofa, brushing my hands down the front of my skirt and nodding.
“Yes, exactly,” I said, avoiding Garrett’s piercing gaze and focusing instead on the wild-looking bad-boy drummer, Maddox. “I’ve already started working on your image. We’re going for ‘rugged’, not ‘out of control’. We have a full schedule of interviews this week. Then, you’ll be going to New York for three days with a full schedule, and back in time for the awards ceremony. You’ll play at the awards the day your new album drops, hopefully to record sales. And it all starts tomorrow morning.”
I took a step towards the band as I talked, and Garrett groaned when I said the last words.
“I don’t do mornings,” he said, his eyes daring me to challenge him.
My eyebrow lifted up and I squared my shoulders, putting my hands on my hips as I forced myself to hold his gaze.
“No?”
He shook his head, and a grin floated over his lips. My knees quaked, and another tremor passed through my body. I could feel the slick wetness between my legs as I took another step towards him.
“Well you’d better start. You’ve got a spot on Mornings with Mark and Michelle, which is the biggest morning show in America right now. You guys might not realize this, but you need this spot if you want to keep being rock stars.”
I spat the last word out, quirking my eyebrow up and jutting my chest out towards Garrett. I saw him bristle, and I knew I’d struck a chord.
He turned towards me, his eyes turning black as he opened his mouth to speak. He towered over me, his huge, muscular body at least a foot taller than me and twice as wide. I stood my ground as he took a step in my direction, trying to hide the raw desire that made my whole body flush. No one else moved.
Then, Garrett’s shoulders relaxed. He looked at me for another second and surprisingly, shrugged and sat back down on his stool.
“Fine,” he said. “You’re the boss.”
He looked at me as he said it, and the fire blazing in his eyes made another wave of—something—pass through my body. I cleared my throat and nodded to Tony and the rest of the band.
“Good,” I said, avoiding Garrett’s eye. “So we’ll see you tomorrow morning. The cars will pick you up from your houses at seven AM.”
And without waiting for anyone’s response, I strode out the door and practically ran down the hallways until I was outside.
When the fresh air hit me, I took big, gulping breaths to try to calm myself. Lacie and Veronica weren’t far behind, both of them looking as flushed as I felt.
“Well that was… interesting,” Lacie said, glancing back through the door. Veronica made a noise and patted her cheeks.
“It was warm in there.”
“Yeah,” I replied, unable to come up with something else to say. “Pretty hot.”
Lacie looked at me and grinned. “Garrett seemed to be giving you the eye.”
“Stop it.”
“He was!” Veronica laughed. “I saw it too. And how about Maddox?”
It was Lacie’s turn to blush.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh don’t pretend you were taking p
ictures of anyone except Carter, Veronica,” I said and she giggled.
“Well it’s not my fault we were in a small room with three very—uh, big— rockstars.”
Lacie giggled again and slapped her on the shoulder. “Come on, Vee,” she said. “We need to plan the styling for tomorrow afternoon’s photo shoot. Didn’t we pass a bar on the way in? We could brainstorm over a drink.”
I nodded to them. “Enjoy, ladies. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Later, Morgan,” Veronica called out over her shoulder. “Go rub one out or something. It’ll help.”
“Oh shut up,” I said, the blush creeping over my cheeks again as the three of us started laughing. There was one good thing about this whole situation: I had my two best friends here alongside me.
That, and a very, very sexy client to deal with.
Chapter 3 - Garrett
“You coming?” Carter said as he opened the door, glancing over his shoulder at me.
“Nah, not feeling like a beer tonight. Early morning, remember?” I grinned, rolling my eyes. Carter laughed and shrugged.
“Your loss.”
I turned back to the cable I was coiling as I heard the door click behind me, and my mind raced to this evening. I replayed every image of Morgan in my head: the look she gave me when she walked in that made me want to show her who was boss. Crossing her legs on the couch right in front of me. Squaring her shoulders and pushing those perfect tits out towards me when she was trying to stand up to me.
I’d had to stop myself from pulling her to me and showing her who the real boss was. That look in her eye told me that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
Even now, as I put the last of the gear away, my cock was throbbing. I brushed my hand over the front of my jeans and my cock pulsed against it.
I groaned.
It had been a long, long time since I wanted a woman this much.
Garrett: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance (Rock Hard Book 1) Page 1