Lucas: A Rockstar Romance (The Sinful Seven Series Book 1)

by Connie Lafortune

  “Come for me, baby. I know you want to. Just let go.” I’ve always been a sucker for come on-demand, and with Lucas, even more so. My orgasm was slowly building but just knowing he wants it, demands it, tips me over the edge. I come so damn hard, and with one more thrust of his hips he follows me into the brink of insanity.

  This right here is the most awkward part about having sex. Do I just get up and leave or do I stay? Decisions, decisions. “Keep the bed warm, I’ll be right back,” he says. Well, that was so much easier than I thought. Come to think of it, he did tell me he had all day long when I asked him if he was busy. Truth be told, there’s nowhere else I’d rather spend my day off than in bed with him.

  The bed grows cold without him, but on the plus side I can ogle his tight ass as he saunters into the bathroom. I bet I could bounce a quarter or two off of those sculpted globes. I seriously need to lose that train of thought before he gets back; otherwise, I might start giggling and that wouldn’t be very sexy, now would it?

  While he’s busy doing his thing, I take a minute to admire the view. His loft is amazing. So open and airy, and the clear lights he has hanging from the beams give it a luminous glow. It’s breathtaking at night since it’s reminiscent of stars glowing in the night sky. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to see it again tonight.

  Of course he’s hard as a rock as he struts out of the bathroom, making my thighs clench in anticipation. “Is food good for a hangover? ‘Cause my head’s pounding and all I’ve had is a cold cup of coffee.”

  “Absolutely. And make sure you drink plenty of water. Not that I speak from experience, but my girls are known to get tanked from time to time. Do you have stuff in your fridge? If so, drink the water and I’ll make breakfast.” I’m elated when he opens his fridge and starts pulling out eggs, bacon, and a loaf of bread. He then sets a pan on the counter along with salt and pepper. I’m just about to start preparing everything when he sidles up behind me.

  “Here, put this on. I wouldn’t want you burning these gorgeous tits since I’m not done with you by a long shot.” My heart is beating erratically as he slips the shirt over my head and arms. He then brushes his fingertips over my tits in a circular motion. Leaning in, he whispers, “After breakfast, I’m going to have you for dessert. So let’s get cracking.”

  12

  Lucas

  I have no words to explain what went down with Abby yesterday. Not only did we spend the day fucking, eating, and watching movies, I took her up to the rooftop. Never, ever, has anyone been up in my space with the exception of the band. What the fuck was I thinking? I’ve never met a woman before who is so in sync with my every thought or desire. It’s scaring the bejesus out of me. I’m not a one flavor kinda guy, but there’s something about Abby that I trust. Which compels me to lower my guard when I’m around her. Because of that, I need to back off. She’s very distracting.

  She crawled out of bed at the crack of dawn since she needed to open the shop today. As much as I’d love one of her fancy coffee drinks, I made my own, showered, and dressed at breakneck speed. Not sure why, since I don’t need to be at Trevor’s for another two hours. I must admit I’m getting antsy with the concert a few days away. Hell, I’ll just get there early and see if I can set music to some lyrics bouncing around in my head. It just might take my mind off of the big day.

  I quietly slip inside the house and go downstairs into the studio. Being soundproofed, I won’t disturb Mrs. C or anyone else who’s trying to catch a few extra Z’s. Grabbing my guitar, I open my notebook and begin messing around to see if I can’t create the perfect song. I’m so caught up in the moment that I have no clue how much time passes when Trevor enters the room. He doesn’t interrupt me when he slouches against the couch. We give each other a brief nod and I continue doing what I’m doing.

  After I master the piece, I sing the lyrics I jotted down a few nights ago while Trevor uses his hands to tap out a rhythmic beat on his thighs. My blood is pumping through my veins when I think how awesome it will sound when everyone gets here.

  Once I’ve finished, Trevor hands me a cold bottle of water out of the mini fridge before asking, “Wow, when did you come up with that song and how long have you been here?”

  I take a long swallow and let the cold liquid quench my thirst before answering. “I had the lyrics written for a few days now, but I just started working on the music when I got here this morning. Not bad, huh?”

  “Not bad? Hell, it’s fucking fantastic! I can’t wait until the other guys get here so we can jam with them. It’s going to sound mind-blowing.” We run through it a few more times and once we’re finished, Jet and Willow come strutting in. Timing is everything.

  We spend the next few hours perfecting the song, and then once we’re happy with the way it all comes together, we take a break. “Hey, anyone want to run to Java Joe’s to get us a caffeine fix?” All heads turn towards me at the mention of the coffee joint I frequent daily. The place where I vowed to avoid like the plague, today of all days.

  “I’m good,” I answer way too fast, and now I have three pairs of eyes drilling a hole in the back of my head. So I just turn around and stare right back at them. They don’t back down. I mumble, “You don’t want to know,” and go about my business.

  “Lucas, I’m not touching that one. I’m going upstairs to make us a strong pot of coffee. I have a gut feeling we’re going to need it. Willow, want to help me slap something together so we have the strength to go on?”

  “Sure thing. Now you boys get your second wind, because after the break we need to seriously get our practice on.” We all salute the queen bee and crack up laughing once she leaves huffing and puffing, leaving Jet and me alone in the quiet room.

  “So, inquiring minds would like to know why you don’t want to get the coffee.” Fuck, I just know Jet will not let this one go. He’s like a pit bull with a bone.

  “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I swear I’ll deny it.” Jet holds up his fingers. Boy Scout’s honor. And I know for a fact he wasn’t a fucking Boy Scout, but I just tell him to get it over with. “I kinda hooked up with my favorite barista, and it was more intense than I ever thought it could be. End of story.”

  He slaps his leg and whistles through his teeth. For some reason this pisses me off. I rarely share my sexcapades with the band since they called me a sex addict and wanted me to go see a shrink. Hell, I’m only twenty-three years old and at the prime of my life! While others are consumed with playing Minecraft all day, I’d rather be playing with the opposite sex.

  “That sucks since you love going there, and it’s the closest one to your house. You best hope she gets fired so you can continue going there.” You have to forgive him, his reasoning makes little sense on any day.

  Our conversation is interrupted by Jet and Willow carrying two trays full of sandwiches, pickles, chips, and a steaming pot of coffee. Just what we all needed to carry us through the rest of the day.

  We call it a wrap, as the sun dips below the horizon. After putting all of our equipment in its rightful place, we all pitch in and clean up the mess we made in the kitchen. After we worked off our first feast, we made nachos, sliders, and cheese fries. Not the healthiest, but so damn good.

  By the time we’re finished, I’m exhausted since I’ve been here since first light. So, when Willow offers to give me a ride home, I can’t find it in me to refuse. We say goodbye, get a warm hug from Mrs. C—I think we woke her up with all our banging around—and head out. By the time Willow pulls up to my front door, I’m so done.

  “Thanks for the lift, Willow. I don’t think I would have made it home, I’m so tired.” She takes me by surprise when she gives me a one-armed hug.

  “Anytime, Lucas. Get some rest. We have a lot going on in the next few days.”

  “Don’t remind me. I’m exhausted just thinking about it. See ya tomorrow.” I close the door behind me and wave as she drives away. All I can think about is thank fuck I can use the elevator since I won�
�t make it up four flights of stairs.

  Sliding the door closed, I kick off my shoes, drop my backpack, and collapse on the bed. Where Abby’s scent cradles me in her arms and I fall into the deepest sleep I’ve had in a very long time.

  ***

  Abby

  I go about my day in some kind of daze. While his scent lingers on my skin from last night. Whether or not he wants to admit it, we have a connection. It’s vibrant and beautiful when we’re together and it’s not just about the sex. It’s there when we’re talking, texting, or just messing around in the coffee shop. It’s provocative and all-consuming. Neither of us wants to verbalize it for fear of ruining the intensity we feel. But I wouldn’t be pursuing him like I am if I didn’t think he felt the same way.

  I’m driving home when my phone rings. I accept it on Bluetooth. I don’t even get a chance to say hello when Beth screams in my ear.

  “Have you been holding out on us, Abby Cadabby? Spill your guts right now.” What the ever-loving hell is she talking about?

  “I just got off my shift at the shop and I don’t have time to play games. I’ve never been good at guessing, so you tell me what I’m so secretive about.”

  “How long have you and Lucas been hooking up?” Um, I didn’t see that one coming at all. Not in a million years.

  “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. Lucas? I wish. Look, I’m just about to go under the tunnel and I won’t have service. Talk later.” She’s screaming in my ear when I click off. How the hell does she know?

  I thought for sure she was going to grill me about the hottie from the club the other night. Of course they didn’t believe me when I told them I didn’t know his name. Blaming me for holding out so I could keep him all to myself. Yeah, right. This came out of left field and might be the reason why I feel like I’m having a heart attack. Seriously.

  I’m stressed and dazed when I pull into my parking spot. They’re already here, flagging me down with a million questions. I get out of my car, slam my door, and ignore them. To say I’m pissed would be an understatement. Nothing like feeling cornered after you’ve had a long ass day.

  “What the hell, you guys? I just had the day from hell and all I want to do is shower, put on my comfy clothes, and go to bed!”

  “After you answer all of our burning questions, we’ll grant you whatever you want.” They have the nerve to follow me inside without an invitation. Wonderful.

  “Whatever, but I’m not having this conversation until I’ve showered and had a chance to relax. Keep yourself occupied until I’m finished.”

  My mind is going a hundred miles an hour while I’m in the bathroom. Do I spill my guts or keep on evading the truth? Sometimes, I think it would be great to let them in and tell them I’m fucking a guy that everyone has the hots for, but then another part of me wants to keep it a secret. My secret! See, this is the exact reason why I don’t have close friends. They always want to get up in your business, and when they do they ruin everything. This time I won’t let them win.

  Stalling won’t help, so once I’ve taken my sweet time, I step out and face the music. Cheryl is alone, and for reasons I can’t explain I’m glad she’s the only one here. “Where’s Beth? I thought she wasn’t leaving until she knew the truth?”

  “She had an SOS text from her mom and needed to take off. You know what that means, right?” I do feel bad but only a little.

  “Yeah, and I feel bad that her mom’s on a bender but glad she’s smart enough to get the help she needs. Coffee?”

  “I’d love some. And you can relax with me. I’m not as inquisitive or gossipy like Beth is, but I think you know that.”

  “I do, and I appreciate it. But why the hell does she think I’m sleeping with Lucas?” I wait with bated breath, because how she answers my question will determine my response.

  “Well, it’s quite incriminating. And, truthfully, I don’t know how you’re getting out of this one. She witnessed you running out of his loft this morning, pulling a sneaky walk of shame. And you and I both know there’s no one else living there that you’d be sleeping with. Unless you have a thing for Mr. Robinson.”

  Eww. Yep, she’s right. I’m totally screwed. My mind can’t find a way to backpedal on this one, so I let out the biggest sigh ever and try to figure out what to tell her. She beats me to it.

  “Look, you don’t need to explain a thing to me. If you’re lucky enough to be getting laid by your man-whore, then I’m happy for you. In fact, I thought you and this man, who will remain nameless, made a cute couple. Just sticking in my two cents for what it’s worth. I promise I won’t tell Beth, but we need to come up with a plan. Otherwise, she’ll hound you until the day you die. In a way, her mom’s bender saved you both.”

  Yeah, I’d never wish anything bad on anyone. That’s not who I am, but Cheryl’s right. This could be the big break I needed. Now we just need to put our heads together to figure out a plan.

  13

  Lucas

  I should have known that the silence wouldn’t last. That my father wouldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak. Really, what did I expect? That I could just return my monthly check and there wouldn’t be any repercussions? That he’d let it go without wanting to know why? If it is my fucking money, then I should have the right to accept or refuse it. Am I right? I am so done! I don’t need his money or his damn time. I’ll meet him at the Bistro one last time to tell him exactly that. And then I’m off to practice with my band so I can prove to him once and for all that I don’t need him or his connections to succeed.

  By the time I’ve finished my little pep talk, I’m walking into the restaurant. The walk wasn’t long enough to calm my nerves, so it’s crucial that I take a few deep breaths before approaching the hostess station. If nothing else, it’ll buy me a little extra time so I don’t flip the fuck out when I see him. I know it’s too little too late when his hand unexpectedly lands on my shoulder. Some fathers might pull their son in for a manly hug or, god forbid, a kiss. Not mine. A hand on my shoulder will be the only sign of affection I’ll ever know.

  “Lucas, you beat me. I think that might be a first. Let’s talk.” He waves off the hostess as he ambles by, not bothering to check in. I know they’re used to it by now, but it doesn’t make it right. I give her a brief smile and shrug my shoulders as I pass by. She winks, so all is good.

  We both pull up a seat at a little corner table, which is his norm. It’s secluded and quiet, a good place to air out our dirty laundry. We wouldn’t want the powers that be listening in on this one, now would we? Well, I don’t plan on staying long. Short and sweet. That’s how I roll.

  The waitress saunters in, introduces herself, and takes our drink orders. We both order a coffee and then she disappears much too soon, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

  “I’m sorry, Lucas,” my father begins. “For not being honest when you were old enough to understand. I should have told you, but I thought your life was good enough to spare you all the sordid details. My fault, so please don’t jeopardize your quality of life because of me. Take the money that you so well deserve.”

  What the what? “Deserve? That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not a full-fledged Knight like Landon. I’m just a private joke that your family discusses when they don’t think anyone’s listening. Thanks but no thanks. I don’t need or want your money—” I stop in mid-sentence when the waitress appears out of nowhere and places our cups on the table.

  “Have you decided what you’d like to order or should I give you both a little more time?” Once again my father dismisses her with a wave and mumbles something which sounds like more time. Oh hell, if he only knew.

  “Lucas, there’s something else you need to know before finishing that sentence.” I pretend I’m busy fixing my cup of coffee so he doesn’t see how badly my hands are shaking. My adrenaline’s off the charts and I’m about to crawl out of my skin.

  “What could you possibly tell me that’s any worse than what
I already know?” My spoon has stirred the cup at least a dozen times already but I can’t stop.

  “Your trust fund is child support payments that your biological mother set up for you years ago. It’s not my money, Lucas.”

  Okay, stick a fork in me. I’m done! Like his big reveal is going to make me accept this money with open arms. I don’t want to cause a scene, so I lean over the table and when he inches a bit closer I say, “Listen, since I’m only going to say this once. I didn’t want your money before and now that I know it’s hers, I want it even less. I’ll earn my own living, my way. Thanks for the breakfast invite, but I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. Bye, Dad.” I stand up on shaky legs, hold my head high, and leave my father with his head in his hands. Did he really think it would make a difference whether it was his money or hers? Not in this lifetime. Maybe, just maybe, I would have liked to grow up with a mother’s unconditional love instead of the root of all evil. Money. Did anyone ever think of that? Obviously not.

  I don’t bother going home, I just keep walking and walking and walking. My head’s spinning and I’m not sure I know how to make it stop. Not only am I an illegitimate child, my birth mother’s been paying child support all these years. Like, WTF? I know I can’t let this new piece of information fuck with my head since I need to concentrate on our last practice session today. Thank fuck I didn’t mention a word to the guys about meeting up with my dad this morning. This is one secret I’ll be taking with me to the grave.

  By the time I make it to Trevor’s, my mind’s clearer and everyone’s downstairs messing around. We spend the rest of the day and night practicing until we get it just right.

  Then and only then do we order takeout pizza and binge Breaking Bad. It’s exactly the kind of hectic day I needed to take my mind off of my fucked up life. Truthfully, I’m not sure how the hell I’m going to make ends meet without that money, but if I need to find a job, then I will.