Sure, I’d fucked women. I mean, why wouldn’t I? They were constantly throwing themselves at me at shows, bars, wherever me and the band went. But it was hardly more pleasurable than jerking myself off.
But with Morgan there was a kind of raw electricity that buzzed through me even just thinking about her. And the fact that she stood up to me only made me want her more. She was strong and self-assured, not at all like the women that I’d been with.
I was sick of all these woman just spreading themselves open for me. Sick of them telling me I was a star, that I was a god, that I was everything. I mean, all I do is sing and play the guitar.
No, Morgan was different. Somehow, when she looked at me, she saw me. She saw the man behind the stage persona. She saw me and she wasn’t intimidated by me, and that made me want her so badly my whole body was aching.
I sat down on the couch where Morgan had been. I rubbed the front of my pants again and could feel the precum soaking into my boxers. I groaned, closing my eyes for an instant as my hand brushed back and forth over my pants, feeling my erection get thicker as my blood pulsed through it.
Oh, I wanted her. I wanted to wipe that defiant look off her face. I wanted to bend her over my knee, right here on this couch, and show her who was in charge. I’d lay her across my lap and lift that tight little white skirt right up around her hips and smack her ass so hard she’d have a handprint on it for hours. My handprint.
I wanted her face to crumple with pleasure and that pretty little mouth of her to gasp for me.
My cock throbbed in my jeans as I stroked it over the fabric, still not wanting to free it from my pants. I leaned back into the sofa and thought of Morgan’s perfectly plump lips, and what they would look like wrapped around my thick cock. I could curl my fingers in her long blonde hair and guide her head over my cock until she was moaning for me to—
“Oh! Sorry!”
I jumped up, shifting my legs so that my raging hard cock was as hidden as it could be. I whirled towards the door…
…and there she was.
Thank fuck I hadn’t taken my pants off yet.
That sexy little submissive blush was creeping over her cheeks, and she looked from my eyes to my crotch and then to the floor.
“Sorry, I, uh,” she stammered, smoothing her hands down the front of her blouse, her blazer slung over her arm. “I just forgot my briefcase up here.”
I followed her gaze to the side of the couch and grunted.
“So you did.”
But she made no move to get it. We stood there, staring at each other. I drank in her body, memorizing every curve. Her nipples were hard as diamonds, poking through the sheer fabric of her blouse.
Fuck.
I growled before I could stop myself, and the blush creeped from her cheeks to her neck. She whimpered, still standing exactly where she was.
“Well,” I said, feeling a smile creep over my lips. “Why don’t you come over here and get it?” I gestured to the briefcase, keeping my eyes glued on her.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth and her eyes widened, and then she nodded and took a step towards me. I stifled a growl as she got closer, the sweet scent of her perfume filling my nostrils.
Her briefcase was only inches from my feet. She stepped towards me, staring at me as her chest heaved up and down with every breath.
She stopped in front of me and my body screamed for her. My hands itched to touch her, and my thick cock throbbed for her. To be in her.
“What are you waiting for?” I almost whispered. “Grab your case.”
Another soft breath escaped her lips and I could see the pulse racing through her neck. She took another step towards me and leaned over, picking up her briefcase and straightening herself up again, now only inches from me.
“You like being told what to do?” I said again, leaning my head down so I could feel her soft, warm breath on my lips.
Her eyes lifted to mine and I searched for any hint of what she was thinking. I wanted her, and I needed to know that she wanted me too.
But she was unreadable. Her eyes were bright, her lips wet. I took another step closer to her until my chest brushed against hers, and I could feel her hard nipples against me, sending an electric thrill straight to my cock.
Morgan tilted her head up towards me as the tension thickened between us. I tilted my head down, her sweet breath just brushing my skin.
Her eyes flashed, and a smile played on her lips.
“Seven o’clock, sharp,” she whispered in a husky voice.
I froze, and Morgan took a step back. For a moment, the sting of rejection passed through me. This woman was saying she wasn’t interested in me? She would play the boss?
My whole body stiffened and I growled, shrugging. I dragged my fingers through my hair, keeping my eyes trained on the leggy beauty in front of me. Fuck, I wanted to sink my cock deep inside her, but it was looking like it would be harder than expected.
Then, blush stained her cheeks and my lips curled into a smile.
Gotcha.
“Seven o’clock, sharp,” I repeated. “Got it, boss.”
Morgan stood still, just inches from me. I willed my hands to stay by my sides, even though all I wanted to do was pull her to me and crush my lips against hers. As if she read my mind, her tongue slid out and licked her lips. I watched the movement as my heart thumped and my cock grew heavier between my legs.
Finally, Morgan took a deep breath and shook her head. “I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot, Garrett. I’m not a tyrant. That’s not how I work. I’m just trying to make your career the best it can be.”
I grunted, tilting my head to the side. She held my gaze, and I wondered again who this woman was. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman hadn’t been reduced to a puddle of desire when she met me. But that had gotten old.
Morgan was different. I shrugged. “Maybe I like thinking of you as a tyrant.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Why, so you can prove to me that you’re the real boss? That you’re in control here?”
“Maybe I am,” I growled, and I watched her lick her lips again. She swallowed, and the desire raced through me again.
“What, you’re in control?” She shook her head again. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be here as your PR manager. Seems like you’ve been out of control for a while. You’ll have to prove it to me before I believe it.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” I grinned, taking a step towards her.
She didn’t move when I lifted my fingers to her cheek, tucking a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes for a moment, and I watched as she tried to keep her breath steady. I leaned forward, letting my lips hover just over her ear.
“I can show you what being in control really looks like.”
She shivered, and the faintest whimper escaped her lips. Then, she took a step back and squared her shoulders.
“See you in the morning.”
“Can’t wait,” I replied, and it was true.
Chapter 4 - Morgan
My heartbeat didn’t slow down until I got home. I closed the door and leaned against it, closing my eyes and taking deep, raking breaths. I could still smell him, that manly, musky scent that was making my head spin. The heat of his body was intoxicating, and it had taken all my strength to stop myself from running my fingers up his chiseled chest.
I leaned against my door, dragging my fingers through my hair as the heat of desire sparked through my body.
This was bad. Very, very bad.
“What got into you?”
I jumped at the sound of Cassie’s voice. My roommate was dressed in grey sweatpants and an old tee-shirt, her hair slung up in a messy blonde bun. I shook my head as I struggled to regain my composure.
“This assignment is going to be tough.”
“What, The Mondays? Are they as bad as the tabloids say?”
“Worse,” I replied, brushing past her to hide my blush. Cassie laughed. She kn
ew me too well.
“Don’t tell me you’re attracted to one of them. They act like total assholes! Trashing hotel rooms and always with different women on their arms. The lead singer—what’s his name, Garrett something? He’s the worst of them.”
Jealousy ripped through me like a flame before I could control myself. The thought of him with another woman made me angrier than I’d like to admit. I dropped my bag on the floor and shrugged into a hoodie.
“I’m not into them,” I lied. Cassie laughed.
“Right.”
“I’m not!” I protested as she raised an eyebrow. I laughed, turning towards the kitchen. I opened the fridge and looked inside without seeing anything. All I could think of was him.
“Alright, let’s assume that I believe you,” Cassie said, leaning in the doorway. “Which I don’t, by the way. But let’s assume that I do. Why will it be difficult?”
I shook my head, closing the fridge and reaching for a jar of peanut butter instead. “They’re just typical famous people. Coddled and spoiled and used to getting their way. Egos big enough to fill stadiums.” And from the look of the bulge in Garrett’s pants, his ego wasn’t the only big thing he had.
“I guess that’s part of the job description. People do fill stadiums to see them, after all.”
I blushed again, tucking my chin into my chest to hide it as I grabbed a spoon and dipped it into the jar. “Yeah.”
“You still think your boss put you on this assignment as punishment?”
“I think he wants me to fail. Our CEO said he was impressed by me, and Marcus didn’t look happy. I think he thinks I’m after his job.”
“Which you are.”
“Well, yeah.”
“So, it’s sabotage.”
“Yeah.”
“You think you’ll be able to fix the band’s image?”
I sighed, sticking another spoonful of peanut butter in my mouth. “I don’t know.” Not if I keep soaking my panties every time I’m in the same room as the lead singer.
Cassie walked towards me and wrapped me in a hug. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah. I hope.”
Before I could ask her how her day was, my phone buzzed. It was Veronica, texting me the photos she’d snapped at the rehearsal. She was a magician. The photos were good. I thumbed through them, my heart stopping when I got to the last one.
It was Garrett, and I was almost certain I could pinpoint the exact moment it was taken. It was the moment he finished the last song, when he was staring at me with the heat of animalistic desire in his eyes. It was the moment that the ache between my legs became almost unbearable.
I stared at the photo for a few moments, and then shook my head. I glanced up to see Cassie staring at me, a smile playing on her lips.
“Not attracted to any of them?”
She laughed when I huffed, rolling my eyes and finally chuckling along with her. “He’s good looking. I’ll give you that.”
Cassie held out her hand and I handed her my phone. She looked at the picture and whistled. “I wish a man would look at me like that! Who was he staring at? It looks like he’s eye-fucking the hell out of someone.”
I cleared my throat and took my phone back, tucking it into my hoodie’s pocket. “Not sure,” I said. “They were just rehearsing.”
I said a hasty goodnight and avoided my roommate’s pointed stare as I brushed past her and went to my room. I flopped onto the bed, closing my eyes for a second and then reaching into my pocket and pulling out the picture.
God, he was sexy. I could still feel the way my skin sizzled when he looked at me, and the way my center ached for him. And when I went back for my briefcase, and he was just inches from me…
…I needed to get a grip. Even looking at that picture, my nipples were hardening and desire was starting to flood my veins.
This was bad, bad news.
I’d been assigned an impossible job, designed to sabotage my climb up the career ladder. That was hard enough. I didn’t need the added complication of being unbearably, incomprehensibly and dizzyingly attracted to Garret Freaking Wood.
I put my phone on the nightstand and peeled off my clothes. A cold shower would sort me out. Then, I could re-group and get ready for the morning.
We had our first big spot on television in the morning, and the band needed to do well. They’d have a short interview and then a performance on The Morning Show. If I wasn’t on my A-game, the whole thing might be a disaster, which would mean our week-long promotional streak would be that much more difficult leading up to the Grammys on Saturday. And if they didn’t nail that, the album launch that I’d been hired to oversee would almost certainly flop.
So yeah, there was a lot riding on the next few days, and a lot riding on The Morning Show with Mark and Michelle.
One thing was certain: I couldn’t let this attraction to Garrett Wood get in the way of doing my job and keeping my career intact. But when I laid down in bed and remembered the look in Garrett’s eyes, the heat in my veins intensified once again. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to sleep, hoping that this attraction would fade by morning.
Chapter 5 - Garrett
Any other day, I wouldn’t be up at seven AM. Well, I might be up, but I’d be going to bed after a night of partying. But that day I was showing up at the Morning Show studio bleary-eyed and yawning.
Another car pulled up beside me, and Carter got out. He nodded to me and the two of us walked towards the studio’s tinted glass doors. The air was crisp and tasted almost sweet. A thin layer of dew covered every surface, and the sun was trying its best to warm up the city.
I hadn’t been up this early in a long time, and everything looked very different.
I took a deep breath and glanced around me. I knew I was looking for her—for Morgan. I didn’t know what her car looked like, but I was scanning the street for any sign of her. I needed to see her big blue eyes and hear the musical sound of her voice. I longed to feel her perfect body next to mine and run my hands over every inch of her. She’d done something to me the night before, and I felt like I’d gone into a tailspin.
Sleep had evaded me. All I could think of was the fire in her eyes and the way my body reacted to her presence. It wasn’t like other women. It wasn’t like I just wanted to blow my load and be done with it. It was almost like an ache for her, deep in my chest. I wanted her. I wanted her in a way that I’m not used to wanting a woman.
I wanted her to be mine, and I wouldn’t stop until she was.
And that morning, I was craning my neck as I opened the door to the studio, looking for any sign of her.
I was being desperate. Desperate and pathetic—not exactly what you’d think America’s biggest rock star should act like.
Carter grunted to me as he walked through the open door. “You seen Maddox yet? He was already gone when I got up.”
“Nah.”
The receptionist saw us walk in and her eyes widened ever so slightly. She jumped off her chair and stammered something about a dressing room, waving us forward to follow her.
See, that’s what I was used to.
I was used to women looking me up and down and melting in front of me. I was used to them looking at me with those come-fuck-me eyes, quivering every time they hear my voice.
I was used to being in control.
What I wasn’t used to was being told to show up somewhere at seven AM. I wasn’t used to a woman looking at me like Morgan did, with defiance and desire waging a war in her eyes. I wasn’t used to seeing defiance win out.
But something about it excited me. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase, or me wanting something that I’d been told I couldn’t have.
For some reason, though, I didn’t think it was that simple. The way my blood turned to fire when I saw Morgan walk in yesterday was something other than me just wanting something I’d been denied. It was attraction on multiple levels.
I followed the receptionist, watching her ass sway
from side to side. Usually, I’d be wondering how I could get her alone and give her every inch of me. I’d be waiting to see her face covered with a mask of ecstasy while we fucked in the bathroom, or the dressing room, or the hallway. But that morning, even checking out the receptionist bored me. I didn’t want her at all, as cute as she might have been. She didn’t do anything to me. My cock didn’t even register the presence of a woman.
And that scared me.
The receptionist led us through hallways, past rooms marked ‘Studio A’ and ‘Studio B’ towards the back of the building. We stopped in front of a door with a laminated sign that read ‘The Mondays’.
“Here’s your dressing room,” the receptionist says, flicking her eyes at me and biting her lip.
I just grunted in response and grabbed the doorknob, ignoring her obvious advances. I pushed the door open and made a noise when two people jumped apart. I chuckled when I saw Maddox with the makeup artist—what was her name? She flushed, smoothing her clothes down and tucking her hair behind her ears. Maddox shifted in his seat, avoiding my eye.
“Did I interrupt something?”
“No,” the makeup artist stammered. “Not at all. Just finishing up Maddox’s hair and makeup for the show.”
“Right,” I said, catching Maddox’s eye in the mirror. “Just finishing up, eh?”
“Careful,” he growled. Something flashed in his eye and my eyebrow twitched up. Maybe I won’t go there. I looked from him to the girl and shrugged, sinking down on the sofa and taking out my phone. I thumbed through it lazily, from one social media app to the other, waiting for the one thing I knew I wanted to see: Morgan.
I heard her before I saw her. The click-click-click of heels sounded down the hallway outside, and I heard Morgan telling someone where to set up for photos.
The assertiveness in Morgan’s voice turned me on right away. She was used to being in charge, and I could tell she got things done. But I wanted to see her with nothing but desire burning in her eyes. I wanted to hear the tone of her voice when she moaned my name, or when she was consumed with pleasure at my touch. I wanted to hear her voice change when she saw what a real man could do to her. I wanted to hear her voice when she knew that she was mine.
Garrett: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance (Rock Hard Book 1) Page 2