Dirty Rock: A Rock Star Romance

by James, Vicki

  “Boy?”

  “Girl,” she whispered. “My niece. And I’m not there to say goodbye. I thought I had time. Why don’t we have more time? Why do bad things happen to good people, Rhett?”

  I scrunched my eyes shut and swallowed down every ounce of regret I felt at having given her so much shit all day long. Had she been dealing with this while I was there, asking her if I should get my dick out for the cameras? Had she been handling this grief when I lost my shit with her in front of the band? Had she been taking care of all of us while I kicked off and felt sorry for myself like a damn child?

  “So, yeah, Rhett,” she said, making me look up. “I expect you to grieve a man you’ve never met. I expect you to lose yourself over someone you didn’t even know because that’s what I’m doing right now, and it’s all I can do.”

  “This is different.”

  She wiped a tear away. “Is it?”

  “My father chose to leave. Your niece didn’t.”

  Her breath quivered as she sucked in a sharp breath.

  “I fucking hate seeing you like this.”

  I did. She was the fixer… of so many things. I’d never given thought to who the hell was there to fix her up when she needed it. I’d, wrongly, assumed she never cracked. That there were no pieces of her glued back together, and that she’d always been perfectly perfect. Now, though, she was breaking. She showed me in every crease of her eyes, every shudder of her chest, and with every tear that fell down her rosy cheeks.

  I shuffled closer, cupping her neck. Her legs parted, letting me in. I didn’t think about any of it—about how we were almost too close, or how it could look wrong to those who hadn’t heard the words and secrets we’d exchanged. All I could feel was the tears that fell against the edge of my palm, and the way she leaned into my touch and closed her eyes.

  “I want to know how you do it,” she whispered. “I want to know how you shut off your emotions and ignore life back home when you’re half a world away.”

  “You don’t want to know what I do. It’s unhealthy, and it’ll all blow back in my face one day.”

  We were hushed truths, quiet whispers, and silent heartbreak as we stared at one another when she opened her eyes again.

  “I need to know, Rhett. Tell me. Because I’m close to breaking for good, and I’m begging you to be the one to save me.”

  “I can’t save you, Jules.”

  “You’re the only one who can because you’re the only one who’s real,” she whispered. “Tell me what you do.”

  “I drink too much, snort coke I don’t need, and I fuck anything that moves.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  Her beautifully vulnerable eyes searched mine, and she leaned closer. My breathing picked up pace when her gaze fell to my mouth.

  “Anything,” she said again.

  Oh, shit.

  “Jules, I don’t think…”

  Her lips pressed against mine before I could finish. For a moment, she just held them there as I watched on with wide eyes, expecting her to say she’d made a mistake.

  But with a hitch of her breath, her lips began to move, dangerously intoxicating as she pressed herself to me with everything she had. I stumbled back, my arms wrapping around her and catching her as she fell against me. A grunt escaped my throat, breaking us apart for less than a second before her hands dug through my hair, she searched my eyes one last time, and her lips found mine again. When my arse hit the floor and Julia straddled me to rest her firm little behind against my erection, I was fucked.

  My body was still healing from the attack outside the strip club, but none of that mattered with the booze in my bloodstream and a woman I never thought I’d want or have grinding against me.

  She felt light in my hands, but the weight of responsibility was suffocating.

  Julia.

  This was fucking Julia.

  God, she could kiss. That mouth was perfect, and that tongue was coaxing me into actually wanting my own destruction. The way she scraped her nails on my scalp and tugged on the longer lengths of my hair was quickly driving me crazy, and my hips pushed up to show her the effect she was having on me. I imagined fucking her against a wall from behind, and how sweet she’d look with her mouth full of my cock.

  Fucking Julia, man.

  This couldn’t happen. It would ruin everything.

  “J-Jules…” I forced out as our teeth clashed, and I tried to pull away, only for her to drag me back.

  Her tears were now on my cheeks, her breathing erratic, and those perfect little mewls of desperation were etching themselves on my brain to last a lifetime.

  “Baby,” I croaked as I tried to ignore her obvious arousal. It felt hotter than anything I’d ever experienced in my lap before. Her heat travelled through my body, coaxing me in. Her kiss made my eyes roll in the back of my head as I desperately tried to keep my thoughts pure.

  But, fuck, she was making it hard to resist.

  “You said anything, Rhett,” she gasped between desperate, heavy kisses. “Anything includes me.”

  “You’re…” different, I tried to say, but God, I wanted to screw her.

  “Anything. I can be that. I can be anything.”

  You’re not just anything. You’re better than me—better than the rest.

  “I can be forgettable… like the others,” she croaked weakly.

  Forgettable? With that mouth? I highly fucking doubt that.

  My body wanted me to flip her over, strip her of her clothes and dignity, and fuck her hard. It wanted to show her how seriously I took sex. It wanted to show her how I wasn’t just the master of the stage, but I could be the master of her, too.

  My mind, however, was at war.

  Fucking conscience. It chose now to show up for the first time in twenty-six years.

  Hooking my arms under hers, I ran my fingers through the back of her short hair before I grabbed the sides of her head and pulled her back from me.

  Her mouth was wet and parted as she looked down at me, panting. Sex shone from her eyes, mixed with undeniable grief. This woman I barely knew but had shared so much of my life with looked familiar, yet completely new.

  Another tear fell down her cheek, and I reached around to wipe it away with my thumb.

  “You don’t want this,” I told her softly.

  “You said anything.”

  “Yeah, and you’re not just anything.”

  She scowled, looking at me like I’d just punched her straight in the stomach. “You’re turning me down?”

  “No, look, it’s—”

  “You don’t want this,” she said softly, repeating my own words back to me.

  Couldn’t she see? Couldn’t she feel how much I wanted all of it? “Jules, stop. Just wait a minute and think—”

  “Fuck this.” She was up and off me before I could even blink, and my dick ached with a need to be inside her. The farther she distanced herself, the harder it grew.

  Go to her. Chase her. Let’s get the fuck inside her. If that’s how good she kisses, imagine how well she screws.

  Julia marched over to the table, poured herself a full glass of Jack Daniels, and she threw the entire contents down her neck like it was water. Her eyes scrunched together as she gulped it down, and all I could focus on was the fact that she could look like that with my dick down her throat.

  Jesus.

  I was an arsehole.

  With a painful, unsatisfied-erection-issue groan, I rolled over onto all fours and began to stand. “You’re not thinking straight, Jules. I’m trying to be the sensible one here.”

  A huff of sarcastic laughter fell from her lips as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Rhett Ryan has a conscience. Yeah, right.”

  “Hey. Look, I’m hard as hell right now. Do you have any idea how much willpower that took to—”

  “Turn me down?” Her eyes snapped to mine.

  “I didn’t turn you down.” I sighed, shoulders sagg
ing, and my hands hanging limply by my sides.

  She gripped her glass, letting her lips hover over the rim of it. There wasn’t even a full mouthful of alcohol left, but she clutched it like it held the blood that would keep her alive.

  “Maybe I should have gone to Hawk.”

  I pulled my chin back and raised my brows. “Hawk?”

  “He would have fucked me. He would have seen what I needed.”

  “Wait. You were just looking for sex… with anyone?”

  “I thought I could rely on you for at least one thing, Rhett.”

  My hand flew up to my heart, and I gripped my shirt tightly. “Are you serious right now?”

  “You couldn’t even do that right.”

  “I didn’t want you to regret anything.”

  “Well, now I’m full of regrets. So, thanks.” She drained the last of her glass and slammed it down on the table.

  “You wanted to use me?”

  “What’s the matter? Don’t like the way your own medicine tastes?”

  “I’m… speechless.” I stared.

  “Thanks for nothing.” She started to march towards the door, but fuck that. I grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around to me. She stumbled, and our bodies came flush together. Her tits pressed against my hard chest, and her swollen lips shone under the light from our kiss.

  Fuck me—I wanted those lips again. I wanted to watch her as I sank inside her, never looking away from pretty brown eyes and that intoxicating pink blush.

  “You’re beautiful, Julia.”

  “Go to Hell.”

  “So beautiful,” I whispered.

  “I hate you.”

  “I’m okay with that. I’d rather you hate me now than hate me in the morning,” I told her quietly. Damn it. I could still taste her on my tongue. I could still feel the sharp sting of her nails in my hair. Visions of how she might look naked ran through my mind as I held her gaze. But her grief shone back, commanding the majority of my attention.

  “I’m sorry about your sister,” I whispered. “I’m sorry about your niece. What I’m not sorry for is putting your best interests before my need to lose myself inside you. Believe me… I wanted that. I want that. Maybe one day I’ll get it… but not like this. And isn’t that a revelation for the both of us? I’m an arsehole, baby, but no way am I screwing your grief out of you. It doesn’t work that way.”

  Julia swallowed, and her eyes filled with more tears.

  “Now I’ve tasted you once, though, I don’t know if I’ll be that good guy for you again. My willpower only goes so far. The next time you come here wanting sex, you’d better be ready for it. Next time, I won’t stop a damn thing until I’m inside you. Then, I’ll make you feel everything and nothing all at once. But not this night.”

  It took just a moment for another tear to fall before she yanked herself out of my grip and made her way to the door. It slammed shut behind her, and I watched the prospects of a good night disappear along with her tight little arse.

  But all I could think about was her sadness.

  And how I hadn’t taken it away.

  “I should have taken it away,” I said to nobody but myself.

  Chapter Nine

  I didn’t want to be around anyone after that. I’d stripped off, wrapped my hand around my dick, and I’d gotten Julia Speed out of my system. The next morning, after a restless sleep, I showered and stayed under the scorching water for a while, enjoying the feel of it beating down against my sore shoulders—the night before somewhat pushed to the back of my mind. Sleep had made the memory of it hazy, and I was starting to believe it had all been some weird dream the drugs and alcohol had cursed me with.

  Julia Speed and Rhett Ryan.

  What kind of twisted shit was that?

  Fortunately for me, I didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts. After dressing in black skinny jeans and a grey T-shirt I’d paid extra to have holes in, I stood in front of a full-length mirror and took in my reflection. I looked as smug as I felt.

  This was it.

  Youth Gone Wild was playing our last stadium gig of the American part of the tour later that night, and I planned on blowing the roof off The Staples Center. It was a dream come true—a moment I’d been wishing for my whole life.

  My focus fell to the ink on my right arm—specifically to the gothic castle I’d got as one of my very first tattoos. That castle represented the dream. The dream to be someone no one thought I could be. I’d have my own castle one day, and I’d sit in it with all my memories, and I’d be thankful for every bad thing that I’d ever thought had broken me. Those broken moments are what make us whole in the end. Or so my mother had promised.

  “Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be perfect. Every broken stone you stand on leads to the smooth grass or the soft sand eventually. When you get to where you’re meant to be, you’ll be thankful for the journey, no matter how rough. Remember that, Rhett.”

  When I eventually found the rest of the band early that afternoon, they were ready and waiting in the main suite, each one of them sat around the coffee table again. There was a Tessa-shaped woman draped over one of the sofas—her arm around Presley’s shoulder as she ran her fingertips idly through his hair. Every one of them was looking up at Dicky who had a phone pressed to his ear.

  It was only when I took a closer look at them that I realised they were all frowning.

  Stepping closer made Tessa’s head snap up in my direction, and a soft, almost welcoming smile played on her lips.

  “Morning, Rhett,” she said quietly.

  “Hey.” I chucked my chin. “What’s up?”

  Presley looked at me, offering me a nod in greeting. “Dicky’s pissed.”

  “Why?”

  Big D turned to me from the other couch, his face sombre. “It’s Julia.”

  Julia.

  The name made my stomach twist and my jaw tick, but I held myself together as I took a seat in the space next to Pres.

  “Oh, yeah?” I cleared my throat. “What about her?”

  “She’s not answering her phone.”

  I scowled. “Julia always answers her calls.”

  “Julia,” Dicky barked as he paced back and forth, a hand on his hip. “The first four voicemails were shitty. I apologise. Now, we’re getting worried about you. If you haven’t contacted any of us in the next hour, I’m sending security out to search for you. We don’t need this today. We do need you.” Dicky sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Call me back. Please”

  He ended the call and tucked his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

  “None of this makes sense. Did she say anything to you, Tess? About anything?” Dicky asked her.

  “No,” Tess answered. “Nothing. She was a little quiet when I spoke to her last night on the phone. Not her usual self. I asked her if she was okay, and she said she was tired.”

  If Julia had done a runner because of what happened between us, the band would never forgive me. Hell, I’d never forgive myself, even if I did what I thought had been right.

  “What time did you speak to her?” I asked Tess.

  She glanced at Presley. “What was it? Just before midnight?”

  “Something like that.” A little smirk played on his lips, and the subtle look they exchanged told everyone in the fucking room they’d been in the middle of pin the tail in the pussy.

  Jesus.

  Midnight.

  That was after I rejected her.

  I stood again, feeling weird. “We all know she wasn’t herself yesterday. The way she kicked off with that interviewer wasn’t like her. Maybe she just needed a day away from this shitshow.” I was on the defensive, and I knew it. I could hear it in my voice; feel it in the gentle quiver that ran through it as I spoke.

  Tessa’s eyes narrowed a little. “Do you know anything, Rhett?”

  “I know that we don’t have time for this today. We’re playing Staples Center, man. Staples! With or without Jules, we need to get our
shit together and focus on tonight. If we don’t, we’re going to blow the very thing we’ve been working towards, and none of us want that.”

  A phone began to ring, cutting me off.

  Dicky reached for his but shook his head when he pulled it out. Tessa reached for hers, too. When she studied the screen, she pressed a finger to her lips to silence us, and she accepted the call.

  “Hey, Jules, where you at?” she asked casually, her eyes roaming around the room. My chest tightened. “Yeah, they’re all here. No, nobody’s mad. Everyone just wants to know you’re okay.”

  Dicky motioned for Julia to be put on speaker, but with a shake of the head and a scowl from Tess, he quickly retreated, a heavy sigh of frustration falling from him. He knew better than to fight with her. Tess always won her battles.

  “England?” she gasped. “Today? But, Jules. This is their last gig of the tour. They need you. What’s happened?” Tessa glanced up at me sharply, as though she hadn’t meant to. “Yeah, why?” Her eyes never left mine, but a weird sense of acknowledgement washed over Tessa’s face as Julia spoke, and I swear I saw her nostrils flare slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that. No, I get it. Yeah. I’ll take care of whatever you need me to. Don’t. Don’t worry about that. It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

  “Shit, what the fuck is going on?” Hawk whispered angrily as he shuffled to the edge of the sofa and cupped his hands together.

  I was certain someone had my heart in their grip and was twisting it into fancy knots I couldn’t undo.

  “I understand,” Tess said quietly, her attention falling away from me to the floor. “Take care, Julia. See you when we get back home.”

  Tessa ended the call to cries of, “What?” from those around her.

  She stood tall and held her hands in the air. “Listen, guys. Don’t shoot the messenger, okay?”

  “What’s going on, Cherry?” Presley asked in that seductive fiancé voice that always got his woman to do what he wanted her to do.

  “Julia didn’t want to tell the band, and she tried to hold it together yesterday, but she’s had a family emergency and needed to go back home to London as soon as possible—”

  “London!” Dicky growled. “Julia is in London?”