Dirty Rock: A Rock Star Romance

by James, Vicki

  “I’ll admit, you’re full of surprises, pretty lady.”

  Her pelvis rose. “You’re going to come in a minute,” she teased.

  It made a burst of hoarse laughter rip at my throat before I pressed my hands to the side of her face and pulled her head closer to mine.

  “I might make it to a minute and a half just to spite you now.”

  “Bring on those ninety seconds, Sinatra.”

  A soft sigh fell from my lips. It was a noise I couldn’t remember making before. A soft moment of contentment. A desire to stay right where I was a little longer. Just like this.

  Stepping back, I smirked and undressed her slowly. Slithers of skin came into view with every piece of fabric I lifted, tugged down, and slid from her smooth body. The woman in jeans and a T-shirt, so simple and seductive, was soon a woman in black underwear that consisted of the thinnest bra to exist, and a little G-string I wanted to peel off with my teeth. Her skin was perfect—golden beacons of ivory silk staring back at me, screaming touch me. A thousand lyrics I’d never sung before bashed from every corner of my skull as I stared at her, taking over thoughts that would once have dominated this very moment.

  Too clean.

  No marks.

  No scars.

  No tattoos upon her arms.

  She’s mine in a time when touching her feels like a crime.

  “Fuck,” I whispered to myself.

  A taste. I needed a taste.

  I shed my clothes quickly, remaining in nothing more than tight, black boxer shorts as I stood between her parted legs. I pressed my thighs to the bed, my rock-hard dick resting on the mattress as I leaned forward and trailed an index finger under the seam of her underwear. I took my time with a gentle stroke here, a tease of my nail dipping into the crease of her thigh, and a soft thumb over her sensitive clit. Her eyes closed like I was already fucking her. It made me want to be softer. To drag this out for as long as I could get away with.

  I’d never wanted that before.

  After enough soft torture, I rolled her G-string down, letting it rest with tension over her knees as I took her in. I ran a single digit through her folds, my breath pouring free as that dangerous heat hit my skin. She was bare, smooth and silky, and I couldn’t stop myself from bending down and tasting her. I nudged her underwear down with my knee, and it fell to the floor, leaving me to devour her. The second I closed my eyes and dropped my tongue onto her, I was gone.

  This was more than honey, and it made me groan as I lapped her up, stroke after stroke. I pinned her down—one hand on her stomach, while my other squeezed her arse cheek, kneading it for fun, to bring her closer to me because I couldn’t get enough of her on my tongue.

  Her breathing picked up pace, and those sounds—no longer drowned out by music—were better than ecstasy.

  “You taste so fucking good, baby,” I moaned against her.

  “You…” Her comeback was cut short by a shudder running through her thighs, making them tremble as I nipped and sucked at her clit and slid a finger into her tight pussy. She contracted around me, and I built her up, pounding her with my crooked finger that was determined to break down her G-spot and claim the remnants as my own. “Oh…” she panted wildly, her arse cheeks tensing. “Oh…”

  I buried my face deeper, tasting it all. She was wet—slick—and I slid my nose down the centre of her, taking my time to taste her at her entrance, before running my nose up to her clit and then nipping it between my teeth.

  “Rhett,” she panted like a quiet prayer. I cast my eyes up and saw her looking down at me with both her hands fisted in her short hair. The sight of her coming undone made me painfully hard, and I vowed to not look away until she came around my fingers.

  With a slow, teasing blink, I moaned against her, my tongue circling slowly.

  Lyrics born from watching her banged off every wall in my mind, and when she tightened around me and her body stiffened, I watched her let go and climax… hard. Her cheekbones peaked, her eyebrows too, before all the air left her body and her stomach flexed, showing tight abs under tense skin.

  I’ll never take another hit.

  Never be another cheap trick.

  I’ll never miss the things that make me tick.

  As long as she says my name like this…

  Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

  I licked her up slowly, taking my time to push my fingers in and out to tease every last ebb of her climax from her.

  She was good at dancing to her favourite music and adjusting the sway of hips to the varying beats. I was good at this. Making her body quiver and beg for more with a gentle seduction of my fingers.

  Sliding them out of her carefully, I dragged them up over her clit, and her hand came down to grab my wrist and hold it still. The shock on her face made me raise a dark, heavy brow, and I got off on the watery twinkling of her eyes.

  She swallowed. I grinned.

  She shook. I stilled.

  Until I slid a hand down to her ankle, lifted it up, and rested it on my shoulder before I pressed a tender kiss to her calf, and trailed my nails up and down her thigh.

  Julia just watched me with wide eyes like she wasn’t sure if I was about to murder her or not.

  Carefully, I reached for her other leg, repeating the action as I hooked it over my other shoulder and spread her open in front of me.

  “You okay?” I asked roughly.

  “No.”

  “Good.” I alternated my kisses between ankles. “I thought you were going to break me.”

  “I’m older than you. I need a minute to catch my breath.” The twitch of her lips had me chuckling to myself.

  “My cougar.”

  “Yours?”

  I never took my eyes off hers as I pushed my boxers down, while her legs rested over my shoulders. I’d tossed a condom beside us both when I’d taken my jeans off, so I reached for it, ripped it open with my teeth, and I watched her watching me roll it on.

  Jules licked her lips, lost in the fantasy of our future. Her lust for this very moment was real. She wasn’t fucking me to get her name in the papers. She wasn’t letting me take her to make a name for herself. Julia was letting this happen because she wanted it.

  I rested my hands on the mattress beside her, teasing her entrance with my painfully erect cock. I wasted no time kissing her when she rested up on her elbows and pressed her greedy lips to mine.

  “You’ve got five more orgasms to endure before you get to go to sleep,” I mumbled against her mouth.

  “Yeah?”

  “I want to see myself inside you from every angle.”

  “That sounds exhausting.”

  “Think you can handle it?”

  “Get inside me, Rhett.”

  I groaned and pushed inside her with force, holding her spine as I rocked forward sharply. I filled her completely—the infamous rock star inside the immaculate publicist, dirtying her up as much as I possibly could, never for her to be clean again.

  She felt fucking amazing. I’d wanted to shock her with the size of me, like I did the others. But the others didn’t exist when I was inside Jules. It felt like they never had.

  I pressed my forehead to hers, replicating her open-mouthed stare as we looked into each other’s eyes.

  “Oh, fuck…” she breathed.

  I grunted, pulling back slowly before easing into her again. “I know.” The sensations set fire to my balls, creating tight veins of tension in my groin that felt like stardust begging to be set fucking free. I closed my eyes for just a moment before I opened them again and stared into her surprised, chocolatey eyes. “I wish I was bare.”

  I did.

  I wanted to take this condom off, throw it away, and slide into her naked.

  She held onto my shoulders and dug sharp nails into thick, inked skin. It made me move harder, faster, my arse working overtime as I stared into the eyes of this woman who’d only just come alive in my world.

  Or maybe it was that I’d
come alive because I’d finally noticed her.

  Whatever it was, I took it all. I took her, and I didn’t let her sleep until I’d become her new personal record.

  Six orgasms for Julia. One fucked-up mind and heart for me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I woke to the sounds of the ocean nearby.

  At least I thought I was waking. Everything seemed like a dream—the sunlight pouring in. The soft mattress beneath me covered in sheets that smelt like springtime. My body was relaxed. My mind a lazy drone of satisfied humming that ran through every bone, muscle, and pore on my skin. The best part of it all?

  I could smell bacon.

  It made my nostrils flare, and my eyes flicker open as I took in my surroundings. A window to my right had been opened—the white curtains pulled back to let the sound of waves and cold air float through.

  I sat upright, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My body ached, and it took a minute or two for me to acknowledge the throb of my thighs and the satisfied, heavy feeling in the base of my stomach.

  I’d fucked Julia Speed.

  Of all the people I never thought I’d screw in my life, she’d have been at the top of the list, but there we were, well acquainted and, what? Lovers? One-night stand participants? Risk takers? Gluttons for punishment? Addicts of the forbidden?

  The slow smile came to life on my face, and I scratched the back of my neck as I took in her bedroom. It was so soft. A young woman’s safe space filled with bright whites, pretty pinks and delicate blues scattered among the furnishings and pictures. On the far wall was a large, unframed mirror over a vanity unit. There, sat a photograph propped upright. It featured two versions of Julia on it.

  Her twin.

  She had long, blonde hair to Julia’s short, dark. The only thing that looked even slightly similar were those seductive eyes. The other woman seemed more vulnerable, and somehow less attractive. She didn’t hold the same spark as Jules did. Behind all that wavy hair, I couldn’t see much life.

  My eyes roamed to the door just as Jules walked through it wearing nothing but my grey T-shirt from the night before. Her hair was stuck up, pushed behind both ears, as she walked towards me carrying a plate with two bacon sandwiches on it.

  That heart of mine galloped.

  “Fuck me,” I said without thought.

  “Let a girl rest, Rhett, sheesh.” She beamed as she lowered herself onto the bed, one leg dangling off the edge while she tucked the other under her bum and faced me. I looked down at the plate she’d placed between us before I looked up at her and took her in.

  “How?” I whispered.

  Jules frowned, resting her weight on one arm as she leaned closer. “How, what?”

  “How the hell haven’t I seen you before?” I leaned closer—our lips only an inch apart.

  “Too busy with your head up your own arse, maybe?” She smirked.

  “You’re fucking ridiculous, Jules,” I whispered, my amusement clear. “Insanely beautiful, actually.”

  “Are you still drunk?”

  “Totally sober.”

  “Huh.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I had no idea the Rhett Ryan Experience would be filled with so much flattery.”

  “You, more than anyone, know I only ever say what I mean. And that was some damn good lovin’ last night.”

  She huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes, that damn blush appearing right on cue. I wanted to sink my teeth into those cheekbones like they were two sweet little apples. I wanted to sink my teeth into all of her—to taste her again and savour every drop.

  “I brought you food.”

  “There’s something else in front of me I’d like to eat first.”

  She inhaled a long, slow breath, holding it in her chest for a beat too long that made it come out in a heavy rush that deflated her whole body. I really hoped that wasn’t regret she was trying to rid herself of. Regret was one of the few emotions I wasn’t feeling.

  Reaching up, I pinched her chin between my finger and thumb.

  “You okay?” I asked quietly.

  “I… don’t know.”

  “Don’t get responsible on me now, baby.”

  Her eyes softened, a look of sadness washing over them that made my chest tighten. She raised a hand to cup my cheek, and the two of us held each other for a moment.

  Eventually, her smile broke free. “Eat your breakfast. I promise that I haven’t finished with you yet. It’s my turn to show you who’s in charge around here.”

  “Has there ever been any doubt?”

  “When I was a jellied mess beneath you, I had my concerns.”

  “You were a beautiful mess. I’d like to make you a mess again.”

  “Lucky for you, we still have time,” she whispered softly.

  * * *

  My phone was dead. I smacked the side of it three times, like that was the sorcery it needed to regain power.

  “Here,” Julia said, coming up behind me. She pressed her body to mine before she leaned around me to reach for the phone. She snatched it out of my hands and walked over to her vanity unit to plug my phone into a charger. “See that? It’s like… magic,” she whispered sarcastically as she spun back around to look at me.

  I didn’t even have a response other than a dopey smile.

  Jules stood there in tight black leggings and a long, grey knitted jumper that fell halfway down her thighs. With ruby red lips and dainty little earrings hanging low, she looked like the catalogue image of perfect winter. She was my winter. She was the blanket I wanted to wrap myself up in. She was the heat I wanted to lay beneath. She owned the eyes I wanted to watch sparkle like lights on a tree. She was the present I wanted to unwrap every day. She was the hot burn in my chest that dark spirits gifted you with. She was the crackling fire I wanted to watch glow until I fell asleep.

  She made me want to write.

  I was lyrical as fuck.

  Shuddering the thoughts away, I watched on as her eyes drifted down over my clothes. Same shitty jeans, a clean, yet basic, black Ralph Lauren T-shirt, and my denim jacket again.

  “I’m not sure you’re going to be warm enough for our walk,” she told me. “That jacket won’t protect you from anything. It gets cold around here.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured her before I glanced out of the bedroom window that overlooked the ocean.

  After we’d screwed again, we’d laid in bed and… talked. This house was Julia’s safe haven away from the celebrity life. Her cottage sat beside four others in a row along the shoreline of Mersea Island—a place I’d never even heard of before. Julia told me how she and her twin sister would escape here whenever they got the chance. When she eventually saved enough money of her own, she approached the owners of her favourite cottage, and she made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. She’d paid way over the value of the place, but in Julia’s words, sometimes you’ve got to lose a bit of cash to gain a lot of value in your life.

  That kind of stayed with me as she talked endlessly about her relationship with her sister, Sarah. She talked about her with so much reverence, it wasn’t until we’d finished that I realised she hadn’t mentioned her parents once. I decided not to ask too many questions about that. I, more than anyone, knew how awkward those conversations could be.

  What did I actually care for, anyway?

  She stepped towards me now, tugging on the edges of my jacket. “Your face has fallen. What are you thinking?”

  I took a careful step back, feeling weirdly vulnerable. Vulnerability wasn’t something that sat too well with me, not even when alone and drowning in my own thoughts. But Jules being Jules held on tightly to my jacket and tugged me right back to her.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “We still have time.”

  “Why do you keep saying that? About time? We still have time…”

  She shrugged and forced a smile. “I just want us to enjoy today.” She took my hand and began to guide me downstairs, not saying another
word.

  I wanted more answers. I wanted to tap inside Julia’s head and take a peek around at what was going on in there. How was it possible? How was it possible to spend so many years with someone and not see them for who they really are until they forced you to? I couldn’t get the damn question out of my head.

  Not as we walked through her low-roofed kitchen with all the wooden beams. Not as we passed through her perfectly designed living room without a remote control out of place. Not as we stepped out into the garden and Julia pushed her arms through a thick padded coat before locking up the house. I couldn’t get the mystery of her out of my mind as she took hold of my hand again and guided me to the most idyllic, secluded beach I’d ever seen.

  I couldn’t do anything but look at her as she talked with ease, and I let her earlier words float around in my head.

  We still have time.

  But what the hell happened when we didn’t?

  Chapter Twenty

  After three years of being chased by fans and the press, I’d forgotten how addictive peace could be. Real peace. Not the quiet of a hotel room when my blood was swimming in Jack Daniels. Not the silence of my bed when the drugs were tearing through me. Not the suffocating bubble of being under the shower, or the temporary peace brought on by headphones and music.

  Real peace.

  Ocean waves, sandy feet, and the cold wind against your skin.

  Nowhere to be, no one to see, no commitments to fulfil.

  Zero responsibilities.

  No people to please.

  Julia held my hand for most of the day as we walked up and down the beach, skimming stones across the sea, dropping our arses into sandbanks to watch the water, and even when we stopped at some country pub that only had two other customers and a docile dog inside it. She’d held my hand as the old fire crackled and we drank a pint of the local ale, doing nothing but laughing about things that had happened on tour. Coops when he accidentally set his room on fire in New York. Big D when he’d gotten caught with his fingers in an intimate place of a married woman backstage. Hawk and the way he’d tripped over the wires during a gig and face planted in front of thousands of fans, only to make it look like he’d meant to do it. Dicky and his ridiculously high blood pressure and lack of adventure. But Jules really lit up when she talked about her two favourites, Tessa and Presley.