Rockstar (4 page)

"Dumb? Thanks mate, love you too," he threw back, his amusement broadening his grin, a rarely seen expression. He looked at Zette and a fresh surge of anticipation rolled through him. "Seriously, don't worry. I've got it covered."

His amusement seemed infectious, JJ could practically hear the smile on Logan's lips. "Now why doesn't that surprise me?"

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JJ smirked, holding Zette's gaze as he lifted his glass to his lips and took a swallow. God he wanted her, that glorious hair spread over his pillow as she lay naked under him, those curves open to his exploration. She flushed at his look, as though she could read the erotic thoughts playing through his mind, and turned away to answer the waiter at her elbow, ordering coffee.

There was a telling silence on the other end of the phone.

JJ knew without asking that Logan was listening to the sounds of the restaurant, the distinctive tones of Zette's voice, and adding it all up.

"Tell me that isn't who I think it is?"

"Well, that would depend on who you think it is," JJ said, careful with his replies, keeping them generic. He didn't need Zette working out the content of this conversation, that would give too much of his plan away.

Logan laughed. "You bloody sly dog! That's got to be Zette Matthews. I didn't realise you two were acquainted. Christ, please tell me you haven't set your sights on her for this madcap scheme?"

"Maybe."

"Fucking hell! I wish I'd known that when you asked me to draw up those damn papers! There's going to be hell to pay when you divorce her," Logan groaned, using his most 'put upon' voice.

JJ just shrugged, most of his attention on his lovely companion as the waiter returned with their coffee. Where had the shy teenager gone? Because the siren who had replaced her bore no resemblance to the socially inept and 33

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nervous girl he remembered. Perhaps her mother had stepped in and done something to actually help her daughter instead of pursuing her own selfish pursuits.

"So? It's not like a little bad publicity ever bothered us before, is it?" He really didn't care what the papers said about him. To them he was the bad boy of business, the Mako of the corporate world. He didn't bother to correct their stories.

It made his competitors nervous and he liked them that way.

They were more liable to make mistakes.

"Crap, crap, crap..." Logan hissed. "No, but you never screwed around with the media's darling before. The woman can do no wrong in their eyes. Shit ... they're going to crucify us."

"So get someone to dig up some dirt so we have something to fight back with. That kind of person, there's bound to be a skeleton in the closet somewhere, start with the family and work from there," he ordered.

"I don't suppose I can quit now and save myself the stress can I?" Logan asked glumly. But JJ knew him, knew that already his eyes were sparkling with the light of challenge. He knew his would be, and they were cut from the same cloth.

"You could. But you won't," he said, and flipped his phone closed, ending the call. "You ready to leave Zette?"

* * * *

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"I wanted to thank you." Her voice was soft as he escorted her from the restaurant, the large hand he placed in the small of her back playing havoc with her senses. Why, of all the men in the world did she have to react to him like this? She didn't even like him.

No, that was the problem, the little voice in her head sneered, you
do
like him. You like him too much, despite the fact he's a rat who's going to make you sleep with him!

"For what?" He glanced down as he steered her toward the lift. She stiffened for a moment, her eyes flitting toward the front lobby. She'd assumed they'd be getting a cab to his place, which meant she'd have a little more time to compose herself.

"I thought we were ... I mean I assumed we were going back to your apartment?" she asked as they stepped into the lift, the doors closing and cocooning them in the small space.

Their own private world.

His eyes locked with hers and in an instant the temperature in the lift rose, the tension between them thickening until she had trouble drawing a breath.

"We are. I own the hotel. I have an apartment right here."

His lips quirked, a lopsided half-smile that did things to her insides that should be illegal.

"How else do you think I got a table at such short notice?"

He moved closer to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"So, what did you want to thank me for?"

"For helping with the concert," she gabbled, trying to subtly shift to the side to give herself some breathing room.

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He followed, the gleam in his eyes saying she wasn't getting away that easily.

"Since your team started helping, things have moved so quickly it's amazing!" She shook her head, still astounded. As soon as she'd made that call, the one agreeing to his insane proposition, JJ had been as good as his word. His team had arrived the next day, taking up the slack and freeing Zette up for the myriad of other vital tasks she needed to do. So far they'd managed to achieve more in two days than she had in two weeks. All she'd had to do was say what she needed, they went away and voila, it was done.

The lift door pinged their arrival and slid open. Zette slipped past him into the dubious safety of the corridor. It was a temporary reprieve and she knew it but when he got close, crowded her like that, she couldn't think. Her brain functions all ceased in favour of anticipation.

She drew a ragged breath as he sauntered out of the lift, an amused look in his eye. Damn it, he knew what effect he had on her, knew she went to pieces when he touched her.

Judging by the look on his face he was highly amused by the fact as well.

"No thanks necessary. We had a deal." His palm splayed over the back of her hips again as they stopped outside a door. She bit her lip, suppressing a shiver at his touch. His breath stirred the loose strands of hair at her nape as he leaned down to swipe his key card, his tone silky. "I help you with the concert, I get you in my bed. Remember?"

Zette flushed, shame rising hot and unsettling, making her stomach churn. Anger followed on its heels. Why had he had 36

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to remind her? She was trying to pretend, however unlikely considering how they felt about each other, that they were an ordinary couple out on a date. But instead he'd had to remind her what it was really all about. He was paying her for her

'services,' just not in money like an ordinary hooker.

She snorted to herself. Well, if she was expected to play the hooker, then she didn't have to pretend any feelings for him did she? Other than contempt.

"I'm here, aren't I? What more do you want?" She pushed through the door as soon as it opened and into the room beyond. It slammed shut behind her, the loud bang making her wince.

Hard hands dropped onto her shoulders, spinning her around. A gasp escaped her as he pushed her back against the door, his body pressing hard against her. The look on his face hard, anger flashing in his eyes.

"What more do I want? You
know
what I want!"

His lips crashed down to claim hers, plundering and demanding. His larger body, all masculine lines and hard planes, surged against her. Pressing her against the door, her breasts flattened against the broad plains of his chest.

As soon as his lips touched hers her anger shifted, found an alternative outlet. He'd forced this, forced her into this situation but she refused to let him make her a victim. She'd use him as much as he was using her. Use this as a way to exorcise him and the weird hold he seemed to hold over her for good.

She met him kiss for kiss; hot, open mouthed kisses that drove the flames between them higher.

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His hand slid into her hair, scattering the pins as he pulled her head back. His lips blazed a trail of fire down her throat.

Cheeks burning, she moaned and wriggled to get closer, revelled in the feel of that deliciously male body pressed into hers.

His hand reached down, pulling her thigh over his hip. It splayed over the back of her thigh, smoothing over her bare skin under the skirt. She gasped as he shifted, pressing closer, feeling his arousal through his pants. A hard promise pressed right where she needed it most. Her pussy clenched hard at the thought of him filling her, taking her. Even here against the door, she didn't care.

Her fingers bit into his shirt-covered shoulders as he pushed her skirt higher. His breath was hot on her neck as he toyed with the lace edges of her underwear. Tracing the edges with his fingertips until Zette nearly melted, groaning with anticipation and frustration. So near and yet so far. She needed him to touch her, to realise the promise he was making with those soft touches.

He chuckled, his lips nuzzling under her ear as she rocked her hips, seeking more. "Oh, you like that, do you? What else do you like? This..."

His fingers swept under the lace, right into her slick heat.

She gasped, a small cry on her lips as he stroked over her folds, parting them and finding her clit with unerring accuracy.

"Oh yeah, you like that," he murmured as his fingers moved against her, stroking again. Pleasure spiralled through 38

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her, robbing her of the ability to speak. "Let's up the ante, shall we?"

He moved, just slightly, and slowly slid a broad, blunt-ended finger into her. Her knees buckled as she felt him slide into her, then pull back. In and out, then circling her own slick heat over her clit until she was almost out of her mind with pleasure.

"Oh God ... that feels fantastic."

She felt, rather than heard his chuckle. "It's about to get a whole lot better sweetheart," he promised as he moved, shifting her in his arms. Her eyes widened as she felt the broad head of his cock pressing at her slick entrance.

He didn't give her time to argue. A rush of wet heat flooded her body, bathing the swollen head as he pushed forwards. She bit her lip, their mingled groans of pleasure sounded in the quiet room, as he pushed into her body, stretching her. He was a big guy. She wasn't a waif by any stretch of the imagination but she was delicate, so his lack of speed despite the anger swirling between them said a lot about him. She knew he'd never hurt her, not in this way.

"God, you're tight. And wet. I knew you'd be like this." He slid into her more with each thrust forwards, working into her body by small degrees. Finally he was buried in her to the hilt, impaling her on his cock against the door.

"Don't stop," she ordered as he paused for a long moment, his hips flush against hers. She could feel every pulse and twitch of his body buried inside her. She needed more, far more. His jaw was tight with tension, his eyes closed as he 39

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breathed deeply. The expression on his face was almost one of pain.

His eyes snapped open at her words, holding hers with a bright, almost feral look. Their hazel colour searing in clarity.

"I don't intend to, sweetheart."

He set up a fast rhythm, his hips driving against hers. She urged him on, her fingers working on his shirt buttons. Trying to get them open so she could touch him and run her hands over the hard muscles she could feel under the expensive cotton.

With a growl of frustration she gave up trying to feed the fiddly little things through the holes and just tore it open.

Buttons pinged, scattered over the carpet at their feet. She ran her hands over him with a sigh, pushing the shirt back to indulge her needs.

He chuckled against her neck, not slowing the movements of his hips. "Feisty little thing, aren't you?" She raked her nails across his back for an answer, gasping as his cock pulsed inside her.

"You have no idea," she murmured, giving him a hot look.

Where the attitude had come from she had no idea. But it worked. Something she could hide behind; a woman of the world. She could have sex and damn well enjoy it if she wanted to, none of this 'nice girls didn't' nonsense.

She closed her eyes, leaning back against the door as he drove harder into her, his movements shorter and more powerful as his need drove him. His thrusts were easier now, as her slick excitement coated his shaft. A moan passed her lips as he thrust again, stopping deep inside her to rotate his 40

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hips. The head of his cock pressing inside her in ways that made her eyes roll back in her head.

She ground her hips against his, needing more as the tension in her belly spread out. Her whole body tightened in anticipation, her clit aching as he drove her nearer and nearer to her climax.

"That's it, let it go babe," he murmured in a soft voice, kissing along her neck. His lips hit the spot behind her ear and she nearly did, a shudder running down her spine. "Come for me Zette. I want to feel you come all over my cock."

That did it. His voice, the crude words whispered so softly, his hard cock driving into her soft depths. She shuddered again, her body tightening to breaking point and then beyond.

She cried out, his name on her lips as she shattered apart in his arms. Coming harder than she could recall before.

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Rockstar

by Mina Carter

She was beautiful. There was no other word for it. JJ lay on his side, the early morning sun creeping around the edges of the long drapes at the windows as he studied the woman lying next to him.

Her hair was fanned out on the pillow around her, its rich darkness a marked contrast to the white bedding beneath. A tumbled mass of silken curls he ached to touch, remembering the feel of it against his skin through the night.