Sing for Me: A Rock Star Romance Read online

  I stare back at her. "You do want to fuck me."

  Her voice is weak. Without a hint of confidence. "Well..."

  "You've been picturing me naked all night."

  Her eyes go wide then she presses her lids together. "I saw you naked. I couldn't help it."

  "Mhmm." What a load. I turn my attention to the freeway. When I look back to her, she has that same lust in her eyes. "You're thinking about it now."

  "I'm not."

  She is. And I won't have her getting her dirty fantasies wrong. "I'm better than whatever you're imagining."

  She presses her knees together. "Did you ever know that girls name?"

  "Stephanie." I think. "It's just sex. You'd know if-"

  "It's none of your business."

  "There's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

  Again, she crosses and uncrosses her legs. She's at her limit here.

  I ease off.

  I let the conversation quiet.

  My eyes go to the road.

  She turns on the radio.

  The station is playing In Pieces. As much I'm tired of hearing my voice flowing through the speakers, I have to smile. I'm moaning like I'm about to come.

  Well, not quite, but from the way her cheeks are blushing it's clear she's imagining that.

  Imagining us, together.

  She practically jumps out of her seat to change the station. The next preset is alternative rock. Then pop.

  Finally, she finds an oldies station.

  Her shoulders soften.

  Damn, either I'm reading this situation wrong and this girl never wants to see me again.

  Or she wants me so badly she can barely breathe.

  Usually, I read women easily.

  With her, I'm only sure of one thing: she wants to fuck me.

  She stumbles over her words. "I... Do you have a problem with oldies?"

  "That's why you changed the station?"

  She nods.

  "Just wanted to hear Build Me Up, Buttercup?"

  Her lips curl into a smile. "Actually, I was hoping for Happy Together."

  She has a nice smile.

  Even in the dark, it lights up those brown eyes.

  I give her a minute to sink into the catch oldie, then I look her in the eyes. "You want your first time to be good?"

  "I..."

  "I'm happy to oblige?"

  Her eyes go wide. "I don't need your pity sex offer."

  What the hell? "There's no pity involved. You want to fuck me. I want to fuck you. It's simple."

  "I... I don't date."

  "Me either." The radio station goes to commercial. I turn the volume down. "It's just sex. I might let you buy me breakfast in the morning, but it's not a date."

  Desire fills her eyes.

  But her lips stay zipped.

  She fidgets.

  Shifts her weight between her ass cheeks.

  Plays with her skirt.

  I don't push her.

  The rest of the drive to her friend's place, I stay quiet. She wants to fuck me. We both know it.

  There's no rush.

  After I park on the street, Meg helps her friend up the stairs. They whisper something to each other. If it was me and Tom, I'd know exactly how that conversation goes.

  You see those lips of his? Make sure you get his head between your legs before you fuck him.

  Maybe. I like being the one in control.

  Bullshit. You're in control 24/7. You just don't trust anyone enough to let go.

  Shit, now I'm thinking about making illicit demands.

  I'm not going there yet.

  Whatever the girls are talking about, they hug goodbye, Kara goes inside, and Meg rushes down the stairs.

  Only she trips on the bottom stair.

  Fuck, that's a bad fall.

  I get out of the car and kneel next to her.

  She's biting her lip, muffling a string of profanity. She blinks and a tear catches on her lashes.

  Her knee is scraped to hell. And it's bleeding. It's not life or death, but concrete is dirty. This cut needs treatment or it might end up infected.

  I look up at her. "You mind?"

  "I can clean up at home."

  I'm sure she can. But I'm not about to send her home with an injury. "Let me see."

  Despite the I don't need your help look plastered on her face, she nods yes.

  Her hands and wrists are okay, but her knee is in rough shape. It's a surface wound, no sprain or break, but it does need some TLC.

  I look up at her. "You have a first aid kit?"

  "At home. I can take care of it."

  I shake my head. "I've bloodied a lot of knuckles in my day. I'm bandaging that."

  She stares back at me. Who the hell do you think you are?

  I get it. I wouldn't invite a strange man into my apartment either.

  "We can do it at a 24-hour pharmacy," I offer.

  She presses her lips together. "No. My place will be faster."

  If I didn't know better, I'd think that was an invitation.

  ***

  Fuck, this room suits her.

  The floor is covered in clothes.

  The walls are covered in sci-fi posters.

  There's a stack of DVDs on her desk.

  And there's Star Wars everywhere.

  I know Star Wars is about as mainstream as any piece of media gets, but the thought of having an actual conversation about something besides music...

  She's got a Jurassic Park poster too.

  And The Matrix.

  Fuck, I like her more.

  But now I'm getting caught up in the same bullshit I can't stand. I'm falling for the idea of some innocent, nerdy virgin girl who wants to fuck me then watch the original trilogy all night.

  I don't understand her yet.

  I don't even know her.

  Women do this to me all the time. They think they know me because they've heard my songs.

  They think they can see into my head.

  And that I can see into theirs.

  That we're soul mates.

  But they never have a fucking clue.

  I nod toward her posters. "I like your decor."

  "I'm sure you've seen plenty of women's apartments with much better décor."

  Damn, she really is defensive. Again, I try to decide if it's her nerves talking or if she flat out despises me.

  I'm not sure.

  She's got all this tension in her shoulders.

  And she's eye-fucking me.

  Either way, I am going to take care of her knee.

  I look her in the eyes. "First aid kit?"

  She points to the bathroom then takes a seat on the bed.

  This is a small studio. The bathroom is right there.

  It's as messy as her room. There's not much in the way of toiletries, but I find a little red first aid kit under the sink.

  I wash and dry my hands, bring the kit back to the main room, and crack it open. It's got almost everything she needs.

  "No anti-bacterial cream?" I ask.

  She shakes her head. "Just that."

  "Get the cream for next time." I open the rubbing alcohol and wet a cotton ball with it. My eyes go to hers. "This will sting."

  I drop between her legs until I'm face to face with her injury. My cock begs for attention.

  My cock has a lot to say about being between the cute virgin's long legs.

  But this isn't the time.

  I press the cotton ball to her scrape.

  Her eyes press together. Her teeth sink into her lip. "Fuck."

  I finish cleaning her wound then I toss the cotton ball aside. "Here." I lean close enough to blow cool air on her knee.

  Dirty thoughts fill my head as I finishing cleaning and bandaging her scrape, but I manage to keep them to myself. I look up at her. "Better?"

  She presses her knees together. Her eyes fill with need. "Yes, thanks."

  I push myself to my feet. "My pleasure."

&
nbsp; She clears her throat.

  She stares at me like she's not sure if she wants to undress me or kick my ass.

  "It's getting late," she says. "I should get to bed."

  "Sure." I take a seat next to her. "You have a cell?"

  She nods as she pulls it from her purse and hands it over.

  Perfect. I program my number into her phone then hand it back.

  The ball is in her court now.

  She nods thanks.

  I push myself off the bed and nod a goodbye. "Let me know if you need anything."

  Her eyes meet mine. "Listen, Miles. I'm sure you're great, but I'd really appreciate if you'd stop flirting with me."

  "If you stop staring at me like you're thinking about what you want to do to me."

  She opens her mouth but no words come out. Instead, her tongue slides over her lips as she gives me another long, slow stare.

  "That look, right there. You're thinking about fucking me."

  She says nothing.

  "Stop staring and I'll stop flirting."

  She presses her palms against her thighs. "I will." Her eyes go to my chest, my waist, my crotch.

  I clear my throat.

  She blushes. "I'll work on it."

  "I really hope you don't."

  Again, she stares at me like she's considering asking me to make her come. "Have a safe ride home."

  I nod. "Sweet dreams."

  I head to the bubble tea place across the street and load up on caffeine. The crowd here is young, college kids and teenagers. A few shoot me second glances but no one makes an introduction.

  When I’m finished with my drink, I move into the cool night air and start walking. I don’t want to be back at the house yet. I don’t want to be around all the bullshit of the party. Not when I have something interesting to occupy my thoughts.

  But there’s no reason why I have to be in Hollywood. I have another place to go.

  I call an Uber and direct the driver to my Uncle’s place in Malibu. It’s a long, beautiful drive. Pacific Coast Highway winds around the Malibu Canyon Mountains, with the deep blue Pacific Ocean on the other side.

  Most of the time, I don’t give a fuck about the view. I don’t care about the stars in the sky. I don’t see that shit the way I used to.

  I don’t see anything the way I used to.

  It’s half an hour to the mansion on the top of the hill. I trip the driver and let myself in.

  The place is empty.

  Of course it’s empty. Nobody lives here. Not anymore.

  Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve been here. The hardwood floors are still clean and sleek. The sliding glass door is still spotless. The kitchen is still... fuck, I don’t like looking around here. Ugly thoughts are filling my head.

  For once, I have a fun distraction. I’m not letting shit get me down.

  I head upstairs and step into the bathroom. My bathroom. It’s just as I left it—same turquoise towels, same shampoo and conditioner, same ancient razor.

  The water makes that same loud, heavy tap.

  The shower stream is that same hot, soft waterfall spray.

  Fuck, this must be my third shower today. I do too much shit that gets my dirty. Somehow, this one feels better than all the others.

  I rinse, soap, shampoo, condition.

  My head fills with all sorts of fucking ideas about me and the leggy virgin.

  Meg.

  She’s different.

  Interesting.

  God, the surprise that spread all over her face-

  Her cheeks all flushed and pink-

  That short skirt hiking up her long legs-

  I let my eyes close and I think about her. I think about pushing that skirt to her waist, pulling her panties to her ankles, and spreading her knees.

  Getting those legs wrapped around my waist.

  Pinned to my chest.

  Pressed against my ears.

  I think about tasting every inch of her cunt.

  Teasing her until she’s panting and cursing my name.

  Then filling her, slowly, easing her into it.

  And fucking her until she’s screaming my name.

  Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I wanted someone this much.

  I bring my hand to my cock and I get lost in dirty mental images.

  I’m going to introduce that woman to pleasure.

  I’m going to be her first.

  God damn, I come faster than I have in a long fucking time.

  Meg is already driving me out of my fucking mind.

  But this will still end the way it always ends—

  We'll fuck.

  We'll have fun.

  And we'll part ways.

  No feelings. No bullshit. No falling in love.

  ~

  The story continues in Sing Your Heart Out. Turn the page for a teaser.

  SING YOUR HEART OUT TEASER

  Get Sing Your Heart Out Now

  I've never paid less attention to my favorite movie. Somehow, it's less interesting than Miles's fingers grazing my wrist.

  That's all it is for the entire movie. He runs his fingertips along my inner wrist.

  I order myself to shrink away from his touch, but I can't do it. His hand feels so damn good.

  The movie ends with the T-rex attacking the raptors. Credits roll. Lights turn on. Miles pulls his hand back to his lap, no doubt playing nice now that his protective friend is watching.

  "Excuse me." I push out of my seat and make my way to the bathroom. I always have to pee after a movie. Today, it's a great moment to regain control of my senses.

  I barely know Miles. But I do know he's the only thing that can get my mind off how much I miss my big sister.

  It's worth the risk. If I can figure out how to mitigate any complications.

  ***

  Kara, Drew, and Miles are waiting outside the theater.

  Miles taps my shoulder with his. The simple gesture sets my body on fire.

  "Why don't you walk Kara home?" Miles says to Drew. "I'll walk Meg."

  A defensive look spreads across Drew's face.

  Kara throws me a pretty please look.

  "Yeah, I was telling Miles about the great boba tea place by my apartment. It's only open till three, so we better hurry," I say.

  "Right." Miles catches on immediately. "See you later."

  Drew looks at me. Once again, his expression is equal parts playful and protective. "If Miles gives you any trouble, tell me. I'll take care of it."

  I try to laugh it off. "It's just bubble tea." I grab Miles by the shirt and pull him in the direction of my apartment.

  I take the first right. It's faster to stay on the main road, but I'd rather not risk Drew or Kara getting the idea to come with us.

  The side streets are dark. This time of night, the only illumination comes from the moon. I have to concentrate to avoid tripping on the uneven sidewalk.

  Miles walks beside me. "You have the same idea I do?"

  "I doubt that."

  "Your friend and mine. He needs to get laid and he's looking at her the way a dog looks at a bone."

  "They're just friends."

  Miles shrugs. "Doubt it."

  "Why?"

  "You didn't notice them eye-fucking?"

  "No, I did. Just... she says they're just friends. I don't have any reason to doubt her." I turn at the next intersection. My apartment is about four blocks away. Not a ton of time to figure this out.

  "I like your skirt," he says.

  "Thanks."

  "You wear it for me?"

  "In your dreams."

  A laugh escapes his lips. "Oh, no, I had a dream about you already, and it was a lot more fun."

  My heart pounds against my chest, but I'm not about to show it. "You did not."

  "I did. In fact—" he leans even closer "—you were wearing something a lot like that skirt."

  I press my knees together.

  "Only without any panties."

&n
bsp; Deep breath. He's only fucking with me. It's a story. "I don't believe you."

  "I didn't save my sticky sheets."

  My lungs fail me. They're supposed to be breathing in and out, but they're still. "You didn't...You're just flirting."

  "No. We're past that point." He brushes my hair off my shoulders. His voice drops. It's low and sincere. "You want me, and I want you. There's no reason to hide that."

  He drags his fingertips over my shoulders. My hips shift. I squeeze my thighs together as he tugs at the straps of my tank top.

  The expression in his eyes in earnest.

  He's still calm, but he's not entirely casual.

  "Okay." I nod. I do want him and I can tell he wants me. "What does that mean?"

  Miles stares into my eyes. "It's up to you. I'm not going to push you to do anything you don't want to do."

  "Oh."

  "If you're not ready, I'll walk you home. That's it."

  I follow him to the next corner. Only two blocks now. "And if I am ready?"

  "Then I'll make sure you come so hard you forget your name."

  ***

  The elevator has never felt slower. Or smaller. Miles is three feet away but it feels like three inches. I have to respond to his offer.

  I almost jump at the ding. I almost fall when I step into the hallway.

  It's fifteen feet to my door.

  Ten.

  Five.

  Zero.

  I pull my key from my purse and slide it into the lock.

  Miles moves closer, pinning me to the door. His chest is against my back. The warmth of his body sets me on fire.

  This is already intense as hell.

  Miles runs his fingers over my cheek. "Did you make your decision?"

  His fingers trail down my neck and shoulders.

  I don't understand it. How can he have such a sweet touch when he acts like he doesn't give a fuck about anything?

  He brushes my hair behind my ear. "Turn around."

  I release the key and turn. My eyes find his. He's staring at me, into me, through me.

  I want him.

  I want to do this.

  Miles presses his hand into my lower back, pulling my body into his. Our stomachs, our crotches, our thighs connect. Our lips are six inches apart. Then three.

  My eyes close as our lips press together. It's been a long time since I've kissed anyone. I let him lead. It starts soft, a peck, then he's sucking on my lower lip.

  Damn, he tastes good. I moan. I melt into his touch, letting him pull my body closer.

  His tongue slides into my mouth. He shifts his hips, pinning me against the door.