Rock All Night (The Rock Star's Seduction #2) (17 page)

I awoke the next morning in Derek’s arms. I squinted blearily at the alarm clock by the bed.

10:52AM.

A pure jolt of adrenalin shot through my veins.

“Oh my God, get up, get up!” I shouted, shaking him roughly awake.

“Wha– wha’s wrong?” he asked groggily.

I hit the floor running, collecting my clothes and throwing his at him as he continued to loll on the bed. “It’s almost check-out time! We’ve got to go!”

He just lay there, looking at me like I was the strangest thing he had ever seen.

“Get up!” I said, hastily pulling on my panties.

“You did
not
just wake me up for that,” he said, his expression somewhere between amused and pissed.

“They’re going to charge us for an extra day if we’re not out of here by 11!”

“Kaitlyn,” he said in a tone of voice he probably reserved for small children and older folks missing a few marbles. “I’m a rock star. And a millionaire. The fuck do I care if they charge us another couple hundred bucks?”

I was used to looking for pennies and dimes in my kitchen drawer to buy Ramen noodles for dinner.

But when he put it
that
way…

“I… um…”

“Come here,” he said, grinning, and held out his hand.

I walked over to him, feeling just the tiniest bit stupid.

He pulled me down onto him roughly. I shrieked a little, surprised and happy.

“Now,” he growled as he pulled at my panties, “how ‘bout we get these off you?”

We wound up sweaty and wrapped in the sheets on the floor.

Waaaaaaay
past check-out time.

After a long, hot shower (and paying an extra $145.57 for missing checkout time), we left the hotel. I was feeling a little self-conscious without any makeup on – but since everything was back in my purse on the tour bus (along with my phone, and wallet, and computer, and just about my entire life), there was nothing to be done about it.

Derek noticed, though. “Why are you acting all weird?”

“Because I look terrible!”

“You look hot.”

“Liar – ”

But then he grabbed me right there in front of the hotel and planted an enormous kiss on me that made me weak in the knees.

I didn’t mind the ‘no makeup’ thing so much after that.

On Derek’s insistence (and because my grumbling stomach didn’t put up much of a fight), we walked to the nearest diner and slid side-by-side into a booth.

Before we’d even ordered breakfast, though, I started to get my first real inkling of just how famous Derek was.

For one, the thirty-something waitress freaked out when she realized who she was serving, and asked if she could get a picture with him. He graciously complied.

Then I noticed at least four other nearby customers taking pictures of him with their smart phones.

I expected it in settings like a rock concert. I mean, after all, thousands of people had
paid
to come see him. Of course they were going to lose their minds if he walked by (or jumped in their convertible, as we’d done last night).

And fancy hotels with paparazzi camped outside? Same general principle.

But now we were back in the real world, and people were still losing their minds.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” I asked.

“What?”

“The constant…”

I was about to say
attention,
and then I remembered who I was talking to.

He
thrived
on attention.

So I changed it a little.

“…feeling that you’re on display in a zoo, and everybody’s looking at you.”

He laughed. “That’s very
Slaughterhouse-Five
of you.”

For those who don’t know,
Slaughterhouse-Five
is probably the most famous book by Kurt Vonnegut. Although it’s an anti-war story about the firebombing of Dresden during World War II, it’s also a science fiction novel. Among other insane plot points, the main character and a woman he’s never met get abducted by aliens and put in a zoo on the aliens’ home planet, where the extraterrestrials watch them exactly like humans would watch a pair of chimpanzees in a cage here on Earth.

And, yeah, I
did
have
Slaughterhouse-Five
in mind when I said it.

Figures that Mr. ‘I’m a rock dude but I know the collected works of Chaucer’ would call me out on a Kurt Vonnegut allusion.

“Aren’t you so smart,” I said.

“Don’t they call that plagiarism?”

“Allusions aren’t plagiarism, jackass.”

He laughed. “Touchy, touchy.”

“I’ll show you touchy,” and I launched into a tickle-attack.

He turned it right back on me, though, and had me almost crying with laughter in seconds.

“Okay, okay, cut it out, you win,” I gasped.

“You know, tickling led to something else last night,” he purred in my ear.

“Yeah,
not
gonna happen,” I said, smacking his roaming hands.

“We could
really
get all
Slaughterhouse-Five,
” he teased me.

By the way, in that alien zoo? The two characters were naked. And though they started out strangers, they eventually ended up having sex. And since they were always on display, they basically had to have sex in front of an audience.

I assumed that was what he was referring to.

“NO,” I said forcefully.

He grinned. “I never get to have no fun…”

“You’ve had
plenty
of fun, mister. And you didn’t answer the question.”

“Oh, is this Journalism Time?” he asked mockingly.

“Yeah,” I taunted him right back, “this is Journalism Time.”

He looked around at the various restaurant patrons obviously whispering about us and trying to surreptitiously take pictures.

“Enh,” he shrugged. “You get used to it. Besides, I love getting up on stage – this is just kind of an extension of that.”

“Speaking of getting up on stage, Miles is going to kill us,” I said worriedly.

“He’s going to kill
you.
I’m
his meal ticket,” Derek joked.

“This isn’t funny – we have to call them – ”

“Alright, alright. After breakfast, okay? Let me have
that
much time alone with you, at least.”

Awwwww…

I melted a little bit, and didn’t mention Miles again until after we left the restaurant.

I brought the band’s manager back up as we walked out of the diner and down the street. We were passing by a car dealership, and it was hard to keep Derek’s attention with all the pretty, shiny things on display.

“Derek, we
have
to call Miles,” I pleaded.

“I can’t,” he said as he walked over to a beautiful, gleaming sports car.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I don’t know his phone number.”

“What?!”

“I don’t have everybody’s phone number memorized.”

“He’s your
manager!
If you’re not going to carry a cell phone, shouldn’t you at least know his
number?!”

Derek shrugged again. “He always finds
me.
I never want to find
him.
”

I was really starting to get worried now. “Derek, we have to let them know where we are – ”

“We should get a car,” he announced, apropos of nothing.

“…what?”

“We have to get to San Diego for the show, right?”

“Yeah, but – ”

“So let’s get a car.”

He immediately started heading for the sales office.

“Wait – we can just
rent
a car!” I said, running after him. “
I
can rent a car! Wait – no I can’t – ”

Damn credit card was back on the bus.

“We’re already here,” he said as he opened up the front door. Like it would be an annoyance to go anywhere else at this point.

“What the
hell,
Derek?” I whispered as I followed him inside the glass-and-steel showcase building. “We can’t just buy a car!”

Derek looked at me like I’d said the most ridiculous thing ever. “Sure we can.”

I was just about to launch into all the reasons this was a terrible idea when a twenty-something salesman in an expensive three-piece suit walked up. “Hi – I, uh – sorry to bother you, but, uh – are you Derek Kane?”

Of course it was going to happen like this. Of
course
it was.

“Yes I am,” Derek said happily.

“Oh, man – oh my gosh!” the guy laughed, and put his hands on his head as though somebody had just informed him he’d won the lottery. “Whoa, this is crazy – I was at your show last night, man!”

“Cool. Hope you had a good time.”

“Had a good time?! You guys
rocked
– you were freakin’ awesome! Holy shit, Derek Kane,
here!”

I don’t like talking about it, because I don’t want to sound conceited – but I’m pretty attractive. I get a lot of male attention. Lots of stares, lots of double-takes. Most of the time it’s not welcome, but it comes with the territory.

With Derek by my side, I might as well have not even been standing there.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly at my best without makeup – but
come on.

The guy just kept going on and on about Derek and Bigger and how awesome the show had been and how he had both their records and a couple of bootlegs and –

And then the guy paused, as though it had just now dawned on him
why
Derek Kane might be in this particular car dealership. “Hey, uh – I just realized… can I help you with anything?”

“Yes you can.”

And then Derek proceeded to buy a car.

Well… not so much ‘buy’ as ‘acquire.’

It happened pretty quickly.

First Derek said to me, “I liked those kids’ convertible last night. You want to get a convertible?”

“No,” I said loudly.

Derek ignored me. “I want a convertible. Show me the best convertible you’ve got on the lot,” he said.

The salesman – who, after he got over the worst of being star-struck, introduced himself as Tad – showed it to us.

It was absolutely gorgeous.

I about choked on the price tag, though: $78,000.

But Derek saw something else a few rows away, and walked over to check it out.

It was a beautiful little retro convertible with rounded lines and powder blue paint. Perfect condition.

“Oh yeah – sorry, I forgot about that one. 1969 Mercedes convertible,” the guy said. “We just got it yesterday – guy got divorced, had to sell it and get a cheaper car to pay off his lawyer. My heart broke for him when he gave me the keys, man.”

“I’ll take it,” Derek said.

“Don’t you want to know how much it is?” I asked, my mouth agape. There wasn’t even a ‘For Sale’ sign in the window yet.

“How much is it?” Derek asked.

“I think we’re listing it for $95,000,” the salesman said.

“I’ll take it.”

And just like that, we wound up in Tad’s office.

What followed was a comedy routine.

But as it turned out, the joke was on me.

“So, how did you want to pay for this?” Tad asked. “I could let you talk to our finance guy if you want.”

“Well, see, the thing is, I’ve got to be in San Diego for a show tonight, so I need to get out of here, like, an hour ago.”

The guy nodded sympathetically. “Uh huh, uh huh.”

“And it turns out I don’t have my bank card or anything on me right now.”

“Well, we could fill out the paperwork and run a credit check – which I’m sure would be excellent – ”

“Probably not. I don’t have any credit cards.”

I stared at Derek in disbelief.

He felt me staring at him and stared right back. “What? I told you, other people take care of all that.”

It was true: the rich really
were
different.

Especially the rock star rich.

“Could you just fill out all the paperwork and bill me later?” Derek asked.

“Ohhh,” Tad winced. He grit his teeth and made a sympathetic noise of sucking air into his mouth. “Oh, man, if it were up to me, I would
totally
front you the car, dude. But… I can’t. I’m so sorry, bro, but, see, the manager, he’s a real hardass – I need to run a credit check and file the paperwork and – ”

“I’m good for it, man, I just need to hit the road,” Derek explained impatiently.

Tad put his hands up like he was afraid he might have offended his hero. “Oh, hey, I wasn’t suggesting anything – I mean, you’re
Derek Kane –
of
course
you’re good for it! But, see, my manager – ”

Derek gave me a raised eyebrow. “See why I don’t like managers?”

“Because they reign in irresponsible behavior?” I asked sarcastically.

“Exactly,” Derek grinned, then turned back to the salesman. “Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure!” Tad bubbled, and turned around the multi-line phone system on his desk so Derek could reach it.

“I thought you didn’t have Miles’s number,” I said as Derek punched out a number.

“I don’t,” he said, then put the call on speaker as it started to ring.

It took a few seconds, but finally a voice answered.

“Hello?”

Ryan.

I leaned my head against my hand. I felt a headache coming on.

“Hey, Ryan!” Derek called out.

Tad the salesman just about lost his mind. He bounced up and down in his chair like a five year-old on a sugar high and kept mouthing,
Is that Ryan Miller?! Oh my god, you’re shitting me! Is that Ryan Miller?!

“Dude – what the hell happened to you?”
Ryan asked.

“Life.”

“Is Kaitlyn with you? Because we can’t find – ”

“Hi Ryan,” I said meekly. “I’m okay.”

There was an awkward pause. Then –

“Uhhh… hi, Kaitlyn.”

I’m sure I was blushing scarlet. I was just thankful Ryan wasn’t there to see it.

“Miles is about to crap a brick,”
Ryan continued.

“Tell him I’ll be there for the show tonight,” Derek said.

“I’m not sure that’ll be good enough. I’m pretty sure he wants a human sacrifice.”

“Remind him he works for us, not vice versa.”

“Derek – ”

“I
said
I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, I remember you saying that another time, too. This isn’t going to be a replay of the Cleveland incident, is it?”

I frowned and looked at Derek. “What’s the Cleveland – ”

“I SAID I’ll
BE
there,” Derek said testily. “Look, I need a favor.”

A loud sigh.
“What is it? You need me to send somebody to pick you up?”

“No, no… but can you put something on your credit card for me?”

Ryan’s voice immediately became super-suspicious.
“…what, exactly?”

“A car.”

He relaxed.
“Oh, yeah, sure. Where are you – Hertz? Enterprise?”

“No, a dealership.”

There was a long pause.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Dude, you know I’ll pay you back – ”

“Why don’t you just RENT one?”

“That’s what
I
said!” I called out.

“Listen to Kaitlyn, sounds like she’s the only grown-up there – ”

“Uh, I’m a grown-up,” the salesman volunteered. Then, excitedly: “Hi, Ryan!”

“What? Who’s that?”

“That’s Tad. He’s going to sell me a 1969 Mercedes convertible.”

Stunned silence. Then –

“…what?!”

“It’s beautiful, man. You gotta see it,” Derek enthused.

“It really is beautiful,” Tad agreed.

“And how much IS this beautiful car, exactly?”

“Ninety-five,” Derek said.

“Ninety-five hundred? That’s not so – ”

“Thousand,” I spoke up. “Ninety-five
thousand.
”

There was a choking sound on the other end of the line.

Derek and Tad both just scowled at me like I was the big spoilsport of the party.

“Ninety-five thousand DOLLARS?”

“Dude, you have an American Express Black Card – you can totally put this on there,” Derek cajoled him.

“Derek – this is CRAZY – ”

“Come on, man.”

“Get something cheaper!”

“But I want THIS one.”

“Derek – ”

“Come on, you handle my money – just take it out of my account and pay yourself back.”

I frowned. “He handles your bank account?!”

“Derek – ”

“I’d hate to miss the show tonight,” Derek said nonchalantly.

There was a pause on the other end.

“You DICK,”
Ryan said, though he didn’t sound quite as outraged as the bare-bones words might suggest.

“Just sayin’.”

“This is Cleveland all OVER again – ”

“Not if you help me out, it isn’t.”

Another sigh – this time, resigned.
“If I do this for you, do you PROMISE me you’ll be at the show on time?”

“Yes. Uh… where’s the show?”

“This is NOT inspiring my confidence.”

“I’ve got to know where to go, don’t I? So where’s the fuckin’ show?”

“Viejas Arena. San Diego State University.”

Derek looked at Tad. “Can you get me directions to that?”

Tad could not have been happier to help out. “Oh, yeah, for sure!”

“Okay. I’ll be there,” Derek reassured Ryan.

“I’m NOT messing around, Derek – ”

“I’ll BE there.”

“FINE. Uh… what’s the sales guy’s name again?”

“Hi Ryan! It’s Tad,” the salesman said cheerily.

“Mm,”
Ryan muttered.
“You take American Express, right, Tad?”

“Yes we do!”

Fifteen minutes later, we were on the road to San Diego in a powder-blue 1969 Mercedes convertible, fully paid for.

And I have it admit…

…it was pretty fucking awesome.