Rock All Night (The Rock Star's Seduction #2) (10 page)

Ouch.

“It was like somebody flicked a light switch. One day he was sitting around with two weeks’ worth of stubble and Cheetos dust on his lips, and the next he was showered and ready to go find a guitarist and a drummer and start recording. And the shit that poured out of him… it was
dark.
At first. And then, finally, the good stuff won out… the good memories. And that was the stuff that eventually made it on the first album. So, yeah, I think it’s probably safe to say that you mean more to him than any other woman that I’ve ever seen him with.”

My heart was racing in my chest. It was filled with pain for Derek… and tenderness… and the hope that maybe, just maybe, I’d been wrong.

Then I made the mistake of looking out at the dance floor.

Reality rudely intruded.

“Great,” I said bitterly. “So I mean more to him than
that.
”

Ryan looked over.

Derek had his shirt off and was grinding on the floor with five or six different women, their hands running over his bare chest, grabbing the front of his jeans, clutching his ass.

Ryan sighed. “This is going to sound crazy, but… I think he’s doing this because of you.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“I think he’s trying to make you jealous.”

Mission accomplished.

“You’re saying he doesn’t do this every night?”

Ryan shifted uncomfortably. “You understand that no matter what I say, it’s not going to sound very good, right? But you shouldn’t hold that against him. I mean, he didn’t even know you were still alive until a few days ago – ”

“Just spit it out.”

He sighed. “Derek doesn’t
do
dancing. He doesn’t
do
after-parties. He doesn’t do photos – not like this. He’ll take pictures with kids, yeah, but not club girls. After a show’s over, he picks a woman… sometimes two or three… and immediately takes them up to his room. Or he’ll get Miles to send up a selection, like room service. He never hangs out at these things afterwards.
Never.
I’ve never seen him act like this, not once over the last two years.”

Despite my nausea at hearing about Derek’s sexual antics, my surprise was even greater. I stared at Ryan in open-mouthed shock. “…really?”

“Hey Killian,” Ryan called across the table as he pointed into the crowd. “Is what Derek’s doing normal? I mean, for him?”

Killian looked up from doodling on his guitar and followed Ryan’s finger.

“What, he’s still here?” the guitarist asked, confused – though I wondered if it wasn’t the ganja.

“Exactly,” Ryan said with a pointed look at me. Then he asked his bandmate, “You ever seen him do that before?”

Killian shook his head, mystified. “That’s a first.”

Then he pulled the joint out of his mouth and looked down at it comically, as though maybe he had accidentally gotten the extra-super-strength version without knowing it.

I could almost read his thoughts, like word bubbles in a cartoon:

Whoa… this is some gooooood shit…

I looked out at the dance floor and watched a woman, her miniskirt riding halfway up her ass cheeks, grinding her derriere into the front of Derek’s pants. I saw others raking their nails across his chest, rubbing their flesh against his –

I had to look away, nauseated.

“Yeah, well, he’s a real class act, then,” I said bitterly.

Ryan took a sip of his beer and said philosophically, “Yeah, he’s kind of messing things up. I told him not to do this sort of crap. I
told
him you were a nice girl, and he should just be cool and a gentleman with you, and not do this player jealousy routine.”

I stared at him again. “You two were talking about me?”

Ryan blushed a little. “Well… yeah. I was the first one he told when the Rolling Stone guy emailed Miles your name.”

“And you
strategized
with him?”

He groaned. “Don’t make it sound like that.”

“What should I make it sound like, then, exactly?” I asked, pissed.

“Like a guy trying to help his best friend get the girl who broke his heart.”

Oof.

That brought me up short.

“Is that what you’re doing now?” I asked warily.

He gave a short, mirthless laugh and looked away. “I guess.”

Him looking away reminded me of earlier, of that weird expression he’d had, like
Do I do this or not?

So I asked, “What do you mean, ‘you guess’?”

He didn’t look back at me, just took another sip of beer.

“Ryan – earlier you said, ‘I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.’ What did you mean by that?”

He finally looked over at me, and his eyes were soft and gentle.

“It means that Derek wasn’t the only one who fell for you years ago.”

My heart leapt into my throat.

I didn’t know whether to be alarmed, or flattered, or to feel horrible, because I just didn’t feel that way about him.

It wasn’t because he wasn’t cute, because he most definitely was. He was talented, and smart, and sweet –

– but he wasn’t Derek.

He saw my reaction and smiled gently. “I’m not hitting on you, Kaitlyn. You’re Derek’s girl.”

My hackles raised up. “I’m
nobody’s
‘girl.’”

He laughed. “Okay, forget that part – but I know you’re in love with him, and you always have been, even if you won’t admit it to yourself. You guys have a lot of unfinished business to attend to… and I think you should. I’m not saying that just because I’m his best friend, but because… I know what it’s like to want something for a long time and never get it.”

I wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort him, but I knew that would be a bad idea. It would quite possibly be cruel.

He kept talking. “And if you can have it, then you ought to go for it. Reach out and take it. Regretting things you
did
is a whole lot less painful than regretting things you
didn’t
do because you were afraid. Just… one word of advice: be careful. He’s my best friend, but… just be careful. Don’t give too much of yourself away. Not completely.”

He took another sip of beer. When I didn’t say anything and just sat there with my mouth open, he put down the bottle and said with exaggerated humor, “Well,
this
isn’t awkward at
all.
If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to excuse myself. Maybe go break my rule about hooking up the same night.”

He moved to stand –

“Ryan…” I said feebly.

“Kaitlyn, it’s cool,” he said, and gave me another smile that almost broke my heart. “I didn’t tell you those things for any other reason than to let you know I care about you. So when I tell you this, you know I’m telling you the truth: he’s in love with you. He just has a messed-up way of showing it. And you ought to let go. Let yourself live a little. Just… be careful. I like you way too much to see you get hurt.”

I nodded mutely, sad that such a great guy was saying such amazing things –

Had felt this way about me for so long –

…and yet I just couldn’t return his feelings.

He paused, waiting to see if I would say something… and then he smiled sadly, resigned. “Have a good night, Kaitlyn. See you tomorrow.”

“You, too,” I said quietly.

Then he got up, gave me a wink, and took his beer and waded into the crowd.

I should’ve felt better, because he was almost immediately set upon by a half-dozen cute girls.

But I didn’t.

I just felt hollow and sad.

Then I looked over at Derek, clowning on the dance floor, surrounded by women trying to fuck him in public –

And I got furious.

I stood up from the table.

“Leaving so soon?” Killian asked in a mellow haze.

I looked over at him in surprise, having forgotten he was still there. “Yeah, I… I’m taking off. Goodnight, Killian.”

“Goodnight, luv,” he said amiably.

I forced my way into the crowd and left the bar.

Ten hours after I’d arrived at the Dubai, I finally made my way up to my room. It was small but lovely – beautifully decorated, with a luxurious king-size bed. There was a large glass window that looked six stories out over the Sunset Strip, with all its lights and cars and revelers on the sidewalks, even at 1AM. The glass was double-paned, though, so the room was quiet as could be, with no more than a whisper from the air conditioning vent.

There was my bag, waiting for me in the middle of the room. I put it on a nearby chair, opened it up, and dug out my super extra-large t-shirt that I slept in. I stripped off my clothes and smelled them. Ugh – stale pot smoke. Same with my hair. Blech. I desperately wanted to slip into bed and just forget the entire last three hours had ever happened, but I couldn’t bear the thought of smelling like this, not one second more. I slipped into the bathroom and took a short, hot shower. The hotel’s exotic soaps and shampoos washed away my makeup and the funk, but nothing could wash out the image of Derek being pawed at by his writhing, oversexed admirers. If I could have directed the spray of steaming water directly into my brain, I would have. I tried to think of something else, but the more I suppressed my rage and hurt and jealousy, the more they devoured me alive.

I quickly toweled off, applied some moisturizer, and slipped into my oversized top. The non-stop go-go-go of the day had finally seeped in, and the bed was calling out to my weary body –

When suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Bam bam bam.

What the fuck?!

I glanced over at the hotel room clock. 1:40 AM.

My stomach turned.

What if it was Ryan, drunk off his ass, coming up here to profess his love?

Jesus
that had been uncomfortable down in the bar.

Sweet, but incredibly uncomfortable.

I didn’t know how I could tell him I just wasn’t interested.

Or – horror of horrors – what if it was
Riley?

My skin crawled just to think of it.

I fearfully went over to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” a deep, dark, powerful voice said.

Derek.

OH MY GOD.

I looked through the peephole just to confirm that it
was
him – and that he didn’t have any of his little hoes along with him, looking for a threesome.

No, he was alone in the hallway, and still wearing his sunglasses. He looked pretty tense.

My heart pounded as I undid the chain, the lock, and opened the door.

There he was, chest and arms delicious under his tight-fitting tee.

Well, well, looks like one of his bitches gave his shirt back to him.

“Do you know what time it is?” I asked angrily, the image of him half-naked on the dance floor fueling my ire.

He looked at me from head to toe, a little surprised.

I was suddenly aware that I had no makeup on – and that the only thing I was wearing was an oversized t-shirt that barely reached halfway down my thighs.

He hadn’t seen me without makeup since, oh, the very first time we’d met.

And he hadn’t seen me in this little clothing since the night we’d spent together.

I suddenly felt very vulnerable and a little self-conscious…

…until he pulled off his sunglasses and smiled, turning the full force of those emerald green eyes on me.

“You know, you look great with makeup on… but you’re absolutely stunning without it.”

Heat rose up inside me, and the iceberg inside my chest thawed a little.

But he wasn’t getting off
that
easy.

“I said, do you know what time it is?” I repeated, annoyed.

“Yeah. It’s time to talk,” he said, and pushed past me into my room.

“Hey!” I almost yelled, but dialed it down when I realized my neighbors next door were probably sleeping. “I didn’t say you could come in here!”

He looked around the room, peeked in the bathroom – almost like he was searching for someone. When he turned around, he looked a lot more relaxed. Relieved, almost.

“What the fuck are you doing, barging in here at two in the morning?” I demanded.

“I saw you talking to Ryan.”

I shrugged like,
Yeah – AND?

“What did he say?”

“
Stuff,
” I snapped. “What the fuck do
you
care?”

“I want to know.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I want to know, what did all of those little hoochie mamas out on the dance floor say to
you,
exactly?”

He waved my words off impatiently. “That didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, I’m
so
glad to know that a bunch of naked women throwing themselves at you doesn’t mean any– ”

“
What did Ryan say?”
he said, almost angry now.

“None of your business! Maybe if you hadn’t been dancing with your skanky
groupies
you could’ve stuck around and heard for yourself – ”

He stood there and listened to me talk, but I could tell his impatience was building – and then the dam broke.

“Fuck this,” he growled, and stepped forward and kissed me.

Slammed me up against the wall and just
owned
me.

I was so stunned at first that I didn’t even realize what was happening – I was just overwhelmed by the adrenaline rush, the smack of my back and ass against the wall, his warm, hard body against my curves, his lips pressing insistently against mine, no tongue yet, but his mouth feverishly moving over my own –

After the shock passed, my first reaction was… complicated.

Part of me was going
YES!

My heart was racing, my blood was boiling, my insides were fluttering with joy and desire.

But part of me was yelling
NO!

Not in a ‘feeling threatened’ way – more like an outraged way. Like,
You think you can just waltz in and have me this easily?

So I fought back. I wriggled against him, pushed my hands against his chest –

He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the wall next to me.

And he kept on kissing me, his tongue slipping softly between my lips.

Ohhhh DAMN.

I wanted this.

I wanted it so bad.

So I opened my mouth and let him in.

Ohhhhhhhh God.

He slipped inside me, kissing me passionately, our tongues caressing. He pressed his pelvis against me, and I could feel him, thick and large and getting harder, his cock quickly growing, getting longer and bigger, pressing forcefully through his jeans against my belly.

If I wasn’t wet before, I was now.

Damn
I wanted him inside me so bad.

He let go of my left wrist and dropped his hand down to my thigh, reaching up under the hem of my t-shirt. I felt his fingers clutch at my bare ass, squeezing me, gripping me. His fingertips brushed lightly against my pussy, sending my desire soaring even higher. He moved his hand down my ass cheek, the tips of his fingers caressing the wetness of my lips, toying with them, stroking them.

I gasped with pleasure when he did that –

And immediately breathed in the cloying smell of perfume.

Women’s perfume.

Lots
of it. A whole barrage of different scents.

The image of him on the dance floor suddenly leapt back into my mind, with those women writhing all over him – except now, in my imagination, they were naked, and he was naked, and they were servicing him and laughing at me, all of them, even Derek.

Everything inside me went cold and angry all at once.

I started struggling and squirming, trying to turn my face away from his – but he just forced himself on me more, maybe thinking it was all still fun and games –

“Get OFF of me!” I yelled. I slammed my free hand against his chest, breaking contact, sending him spinning away at an angle with a stunned look on his face.

“What the
hell?!”
he asked, more surprised than angry.

I turned away from him. I didn’t want to look at him – I
couldn’t
. Because of the horrible images in my head… and maybe because my body was still incredibly turned on, and I was afraid of how easily I might still give in.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Anger gave me the power to look at him, just briefly. “If you want to sleep with me, maybe you shouldn’t come up here smelling like your
whores.
”

His jaw set, his expression darkened, and for a second I was actually a little afraid. He was far more powerful than I was – we were alone – he could do whatever he wanted to me –

And then one side of his mouth pulled up in amusement.

“I don’t fuckin’ believe this,” he muttered.

Now I wasn’t afraid, I was just pissed.

“Believe
what?
That I’m not happy to be your second or third fuck in a row tonight?”

He sighed heavily. “You know what that was down there? That was to make you jealous. That’s it. Seems it worked a little
too
well.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Ryan had been right.

Derek stepped closer to me and put a hand tenderly to my face. I flinched, but he kept it there, gently cupping my cheek.

“I don’t want them. I want
you.
You were playing so hard to get this afternoon… down in the bar, then in the locker room… I’ve always wanted YOU, Kaitlyn. Just you.”

I was breathing harder, my heart was pounding, and he moved in to kiss me –

Maybe it was the perfume, which I could still smell on the air.

Maybe it was my famous boneheaded stubbornness.

Either way, I turned my face away from him.

He paused, his lips a millimeter away from my cheek. I could feel his breath on my skin, hot and ticklish.

Then his hand fell away, and he stepped back.

“Okay, this is the way it’s going to be from now on,” he said. His voice wasn’t exactly cold, but all the passion was gone. It was more like he was being… firm. Stern.

I glanced over at him. He still looked vaguely amused, but he looked a little pissed, too.

“If you want me,
you
make the first move. I’m not going to make another one. If you
don’t
want me, then fine. I’ll be the rock star, you’ll be the journalist, and it’ll be cool. No harm, no foul. But no passive-aggressive bullshit from you about how I live my life. No snarky little comments or hateful stares just because other women are into me.

“You want me? I’m yours. But
you
let me know.”

And with that, he strode across the room, opened the door, and was gone before I could even answer.