Rock Mayhem: 8 Complete Rock Star Romance Novels

by Candy J. Starr

  The future had changed for us. Maybe our lives had been too charmed before, but that had only been one of many possible futures, anyway. Matty had his music, and I had so many things I wanted to explore. The two of us would do that together.

  My world went fuzzy as the pleasure built up inside me. I come, exploding inside from the pleasure only he could give me.

  Matty flopped beside me. Neither of us speaking. Neither of us needing to.

  Eventually, he moved. "We should get to this party," he said.

  "We should shower first," I said with a giggle.

  "We're never getting to the party, are we?" He raised himself up on his elbow and stared at me.

  I'd thought I'd never want anyone looking at my face again, but when Matty looked at me like that, I felt beautiful.

  If I could always see myself the way I was, reflected in his eyes, I could grow to love myself. Not as a pretty face, and not as a product on a billboard, but as a woman proving myself worthy of his love.

  ROCK STAR'S WAGER

  Ethan

  GIRLS IN BIKINIS FROLICKED around as the last rays of the sun warmed my skin, music pumped from the stereo and I had the world at my feet. Because the world agreed on one thing: Ethan Stockton equaled hottest thing in rock today.

  "This sure is the life." I handed my bandmate Miles a beer then settled on the sun lounge beside him.

  "Dude, you're the one who protested the loudest about coming here." Miles rolled his eyes, then he put on a weird, high-pitched voice. "Stuck in the middle of nowhere... one-horse town called Dullsville... this is going to suck donkeys' balls."

  "Yeah well maybe I was wrong about a few things. This town knows how to party. And I never, ever talk in a voice like your mother."

  We'd finished today's session with a few hours of sunshine left and an empty pool at our motel. This motel had been the only accommodation in town, far from my usual five-star style. Not rat hole level but definitely not luxury. Just your bog-standard motel. Well, it had been until we'd turned it into party town. Booked the entire place out so we had no annoying families in the rooms around us, hooked up speakers around the pool and got on a first name basis with the local booze store.

  You've seen nothing like that dude's face when we put in our order. We almost bought out his entire stock. He sent a truck over with the delivery.

  The local crew had called their friends to join us and they called their friends until we had people turning up from five towns over. A genuine rock star party in a small town like this had to be a huge deal. It'd be talked about for years to come, maybe decades. We'd be local legends. Might even get a statue put up in our honor. I'd look mighty fine in statue form, like a Greek god only with a much bigger wang than those statues have.

  Now, with the sun setting and a pleasant buzz on, I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.

  And, when I thought things couldn't get any better, two chicks mounted inflatable unicorn things in the middle of the pool and started wrestling each other. Made me whoop right out loud.

  "Fifty bucks on the blond," I said to Miles.

  "One hundred on the brunette." Miles grinned. "She's feisty as hell."

  "Go for her, my man," I said, knowing Miles would do anything but.

  I loved the ladies but Miles loved lurve, or some shit like that. He was worse than a chick, always wanting to find "the one". His perfect woman. For me, there were lots of ones. I didn't like to discriminate.

  We shook on it just as the brunette toppled the blond into the water. Miles grinned that smug grin of his. Every freakin' time. A smart man would never bet with Miles. Luckily for Miles, I wasn't a smart man. And I could never refuse a challenge.

  "I'll add it to the tally," I reached into the tub beside me, pulling out a new beer.

  "What's it up to now?" Miles grabbed the beer out of my hand. Like he couldn't get up and get one himself.

  "Close to a grand, but I'll win it back."

  "Or you could just hand over your Fender."

  I scoffed. Miles wanted that guitar so bad but he'd get it over my dead body. That guitar meant everything to me. It'd be like handing over my dick.

  Someone changed the music. One of our songs thudded out. I cringed. There was no denying our talent but only a tosser played their own songs. I sure could be a tosser at times but never that bad.

  "Turn that shit off," I yelled.

  That got a few laughs and someone changed the music.

  A girl walked by wearing the teeniest string bikini you could wear without inadvertently flossing bits you didn't want flossed. I thanked the Lord for bikini makers.

  "Having fun?" she asked me.

  "Always," I tilted my beer can at her.

  She laughed and boy, when she laughed did everything jiggle. I loved that bikini.

  Then her friend called her.

  "Later," she said with a smile that promised so much. Then she winked and walked away. As she walked away, I loved that bikini even more.

  "I think she could be the one," I said to Miles.

  "The one?" he asked. "You just met her."

  "I mean the one in my bed tonight. I don't want to pin down my options too early in the evening but things might be going Miss String Bikini's way."

  I did have options, though. Lots and lots of options. The chick in the orange one piece looked promising, too. I wondered if they wanted to tag team. Two mighty fine chicks and one mighty fine me, that added up to a whole lot of fun.

  "Ever worried that one of these women might say no?"

  I flopped back on that sun lounge, laughing hard. Then I balanced my beer can on my belly and turned to Miles to set him straight.

  "No. That thought has never crossed my mind. Who'd say no to this, bro? I'm every woman's dream."

  I'd have probably been more modest if I hadn't drunk so many beers but there was no denying the truth. I had the looks, I had the money and I had the rock n' roll credentials. If there was a woman in this world who wanted more than that, I'd yet to meet her.

  In the meantime, I had more pressing issues.

  "You know what sucks?" I put the beer can on my belly again. "Having these ripped abs. If I had a soft, flubbery belly, it'd be much easier to balance my beer."

  Miles raised himself onto his elbow so he could glare at me.

  "Does being a total douchebag come naturally to you or do you work at it?" He snorted. "Seriously, Ethan, just shut up. But, before you do, how about you put your money where your mouth is?"

  "Balancing my beer on my cut abs? Nah, I know I'll lose. I've already tried it."

  "Not the beer, douche. The chicks."

  That made me sit up. "You want me to put money on picking up a chick? Dude, that'd be like shooting fish in a barrel. Babes don't have the word "no" in their vocabulary when it comes to me."

  Miles laughed. "There has to be one."

  "You pick one by the end of the night and I'll have her in my bed." I looked around, checking out this party. Miles could be setting me up for a fall. But seriously, this place crawled with hot country girls. Every single one of them wanting a piece of me.

  "You'll put up the Fender?" Miles asked.

  "Whoa, that's getting crazy."

  "What? Don't you have confidence in your charm and ripped abs?" Damn his smugness.

  "It's not that. It's just..."

  "In return, I'll write off your entire debt. We'll be back to square one."

  "And no more smugness?"

  "Sure."

  My beer-buzzed brain ticked over slowly. There had to be a catch, like someone had brought their grandmother along to the party, but I couldn't see any downside. No grannies in sight.

  "You pick the chick?" I asked. "I mean, you don't have the best taste in women..."

  "I pick. You pick up. You win. Too easy."

  I screwed up my face. "She's got to be someone at this party."

  Miles nodded.

  I held out my hand. "It's a deal. You've got an hour to pick so
meone. What could possibly go wrong?"

  With that, I got up. The string bikini chick danced on the diving board and she looked sorely in need of some company. I couldn't let her dance alone.

  No matter who Miles chose, I'd be getting laid tonight but it never hurt to have a backup plan.

  Sophie

  THAT DAMN NOISE HAD been going on too long. Way too long. Even with a pillow over my head, I couldn't drown it out.

  When famous sound engineer Billy Baxter bought the old Godfrey house to turn into a recording studio, everyone said it'd be a good thing for the town. Bring in money and get the economy moving. But I'd known from the start it'd be a nightmare. Sure, it seemed like a great idea on the surface but it wouldn't end well.

  And that noise was the proof.

  Some rock band had moved into the motel across my back fence and decided to throw an all-night party.

  Of course all the people who'd thought the recording studio was a good idea didn't live near the only motel in town. Not that I had much choice. I'd inherited this house like I'd inherited pretty much my entire life. It wasn't what I wanted but it was what I got. And that didn't mean putting up with crap from some fly-by-night rock band.

  I'd tried ear plugs but they were industrial strength, not rock star strength. That thudding bass wasn't just loud, it shook the walls and made the floor pulsate. The house would need restumping from the force of those vibrations.

  Damn pillow did no good. I threw it at the wall.

  If I went over to that motel and sorted things out, I'd get riled up. And being all riled up wouldn't help me sleep.

  Half hour. I'd give them half hour, tops. Then I'd ring the police.

  Living life in the fast lane was fine for some but not when it interfered with other people's lives. People who needed to run businesses.

  10 pm. If they shut up now, I'd get six hours sleep before my alarm went off.

  Maybe five by the time I settled back down.

  With my head throbbing, I jumped out of bed and grabbed some painkillers. A bottle of sleeping pills sat beside them but sleeping pills made you groggy and I couldn't afford that.

  While I washed those tablets down, I stood at the window hoping the strength of my glare would hit those damn rock stars right between the eyes. I imagined a laser beam. Not a "hurting people" laser beam but a "going to sleep" beam. If I knocked them all out then peace and quiet would be restored.

  A flash of blue lights. The police arrived. That saved me the bother of calling them. It shouldn't take Officer Murphy long to break this party up even if he was an incompetent idiot.

  While I waited for that to happen, I headed to my bathroom and went through my nightly skincare routine. I'd neglected to do it earlier tonight. I'd forgotten last night and the night before. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I'd bothered. Lately, I'd been much too tired and too busy. But it was never too early to worry about wrinkles even if I was only twenty-three.

  I patted the cream on my face, trying to rub my button nose out of existence. When you have a button nose and aren't much over five-foot-tall, you get called cute way too often. No one takes you seriously when you're cute. But, short of surgery, there wasn't much I could do to fix it.

  The music made my bathroom window shudder. I craned my neck, trying to see what was going on.

  Surely it didn't take long to break up a party. "Turn off that racket or I'll throw you all in the clink," that's all they needed to say. Not difficult at all. And surely even rock stars wanted to avoid arrest.

  Maybe they'd been busted with a ton of drugs. Rock star drugs. That'd make Murphy's year. Not much ever happened in this town.

  A loud crash made me jump.

  What the hell? The party?

  Nope. It came from the living room. I went to investigate.

  Shards of china covered the floor. And there was an empty space on the wall where one of my mother's commemorative plates had been, the paint much brighter there than the wall around it.

  I hated those plates. Ugly things. But, as I swept up the pieces, I fought back tears. Even if I hated them, she'd loved them. They'd been some of her treasures and it would've upset her no end to see it shattered like that.

  I wrapped the pieces in newspaper and dumped them in the trash then grabbed my house keys.

  Those rockers had no right. No right to destroy my house and destroy my sleep. Someone needed to sort this mess out and, if I couldn't rely on the cops, I'd do it myself.

  Thrusting my hands deep in my pockets, I stomped down the street.

  Halfway to the motel, I remembered I still had on my tiny sleep shorts and fluffy unicorn slippers. Not exactly the most appropriate outfit for heading into war with the neighbors.

  I turned around, ready to go back home and change, then I stopped.

  Screw it. I'd tell those idiots to shut that noise off and get out of there. What I wore made no difference.

  As I got closer, the ground reverberated with the thudding of their music.

  I gritted my teeth. I hated confrontation but that didn't mean I'd back down when I needed to fight. If I shut this party down now, I'd get five solid hours sleep, and five hours beat the hell out of no hours.

  Hadn't those damn rock stars ever worked a day in their whole lives? Real work not just playing around? Had they ever had to get out of bed while it was still dark? Had they ever had to smile at cranky customers? Had they ever had to finish work and wanted to have a quiet drink and relax but instead had to sit down and do hours of paperwork?

  I bet the answer was no. A huge big no.

  They spend their time making noise. And taking drugs. Drugs and sex and noise making, that was their life's work. They were the three things I hated the most. Well, the sex I didn't hate so much but I had no energy for even thinking about it since I'd taken over the florist. There was no one in this town I wanted to do it with, anyway. I'd die a lonely old spinster before I'd look at most of the local guys. Well, I'd look at a few of them but that's as far as I'd go. Their worlds never extended beyond sports and drinking.

  Even if the fairy tales I once believed in had been ground to dust, I didn't want to settle for less.

  Cars lined the streets outside the motel. Was every person in town at this party? Shutting it down wouldn't make me the most popular person around but then I guess the party element were never going to be my friends, or my customers.

  As I walked through the forecourt, Larry the motel owner ran out of his office with a huge shit eating grin. The kind of grin that said he'd be full of apologies but wouldn't do a single thing to make this right. Why would he? He'd be raking in the cash off those guys so he'd bend over backward to make things easy for them.

  I waved him aside and kept walking.

  The lights on Officer Murphy's car still flashed. Fool had forgotten to turn them off again. At least he was still here.

  The office building took up the front part of the block. The units came off it in two rows to make a U shape around the pool. At the bottom end of the grounds, a fence with a few measly trees in front separated the motel from my house. If Larry continued letting these guys have noisy parties, he'd need to install something a bit more sound insulating than that flimsy wire fence.

  Once I got around the side of the office building, the party hit me. The noise, not just music but people yelling and laughing. The smell of booze and pot. Waves of fun rolled off the place.

  Annoying fun.

  Before I even got to the pool, I spotted Murphy with a beer in his hand.

  "What's going on?" I asked him.

  "He signed it. Look." Murphy held up a CD case. "I never thought there'd be real live rock stars in Collinsville."

  Murphy was no better than anyone else at this party. All starry-eyed. I should've known better than to rely on him.

  "Do you intend to do anything about this noise?" I yelled to be heard over the music. "You know, your job."

  He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "Not much harm do
ne. Boys will be boys."

  "Jeez, Murphy, that's a piss poor effort. Harm is being done. Harm to my sleep."

  "Lighten up, Sophie." He slapped my arm. "Maybe you should join in."

  I huffed and pushed past him. A girl in a very skimpy bikini gyrated at the poolside, so intoxicated she almost fell in.

  "Susie Kingston, you should be ashamed of yourself," I yelled to her. "Your mother would kill you if she saw you like that."

  Susie just laughed.

  There were speakers all around the pool. I'd never seen so many speakers outside of a concert. But I needed to find the source of the music. Something with an off switch. The massive stereo sitting by one of the motel units, that had to be it.

  I marched over to that unit, ignoring the stares burning into my back, ignoring the person approaching me with a drink, ignoring the laughter from Susie and her friends that trailed my steps. The pounding in my head thumped louder than the music but I kept my head held high. They could laugh all they liked, they always had.

  I resented them all, resented that they could spend their Sunday nights at a party and that they lived such carefree lives. You'd think a lifetime would harden you against small-town mockery and gossip but it never did. There were people in this town who could do what they liked and then there were people like me, the kind who had to work their guts out for everything and still had a constant backlash against them.

  I'd turn that music off and discuss this situation with whoever was in charge. That's all.

  A girl in the pool squealed. As I glanced over to see why, I almost tripped on something. Damn trash littering the place.

  Not trash, a baseball bat, just lying on the ground. I picked it up. I'd put it somewhere safe before someone else tripped on it.

  That bat felt good in my hand, though. I swung it, liking the feel.

  Lack of sleep will make a person crazy.

  Even while I walked, a voice inside me screamed that this was a really bad idea, but I could barely hear that voice over the music. My thoughts focused on one thing, only. The music, my enemy.

  It only took one swing. Not even a hard swing.