Rock (Beautiful Book 4)

by Lilliana Anderson

  “Leisel, where have you been all this time?”

  “Marcus, over here. How long have you been dating?”

  “Lisa Russell? I’ve got an Uber pick up for Lisa Russell.”

  “Fuck.” I feel the word vibrate in Marcus’s chest. Now they know my legal name. Fuck is an understatement. “Come on.” Putting his arm around my shoulders, he hurriedly guides me forward and reefs the passenger door of the Uber open.

  “Lisa Russell?” The guy checks as I climb in.

  “That’s me,” I sniff, knowing I’m going to have to change my name all over again now. Fucking paparazzi. Marcus slides himself in beside me and slams the door on the persistent flashing of the cameras.

  “Fucking paparazzi,” he growls, and I give him a wobbly smile.

  “Holy shit. You’re Marcus Bailey,” the driver blurts. “I was literally just listening to you on the radio.”

  “That’s great kid,” Marcus says, his expression tight. “Think you can get us out of here?”

  “Of course. Blaxland, yeah?”

  “Ah, no. My car is two streets away. I just need you to get us there.”

  “OK. But I’m gonna need Ms Russell to change the destination on her app.”

  Hands hammer against the window, voices calling our names as the cameras click, click, click. “Mate, I’ll give you five hundred fucking dollars to step on the gas right now.”

  “Ah, Yes, sir. But I still need Ms Russell to change the address or cancel the call. This is my job.”

  Marcus grits his teeth and sucks in some air.

  “It’s OK,” I say, pulling out my phone. “I’ll cancel the ride.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he says, accelerating slowly to break free of the paps.

  “It’s done,” I say, throwing my phone back in my bag, freaking out even more because not only is my face going to be all over the papers tomorrow, I was caught with Marcus too. They’re going to have a field day with this.

  I rest my head against the back of the seat and close my eyes tightly, feeling like my whole world has exploded. Then the warmth of Marcus’s hand slides over mine. “This was never temporary for me,” he whispers, entwining our fingers and lifting my hand to his lips. “I won’t let you go.”

  “Marcus,” I whisper back, not elaborating because now isn’t the time.

  “Lisa.” He uses his free hand to brush his thumb along my jaw as he stares into my eyes, his beseeching, begging me to quit pushing.

  But I can’t.

  It doesn’t matter how we feel about each other in this moment, because we can’t be together without one of us giving up everything about ourselves. And I’m not willing to live in the spotlight, and I don’t think he can exist without it. We’ve always been doomed. I’ve been trying to tell him that all along.

  “This is two streets,” the driver says after clearing his throat.

  Marcus releases me, leaning to the side and pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “Thanks, mate,” he says, handing over the money he promised before getting out of the car. “Let’s go.”

  We transfer to his Porsche, and I can’t help but smile a little as I get inside and shuffle down in the seat, remembering our first outing together…although I suppose with the way that day ended, it should be classed as our first date.

  It’s only fitting it’s the car we use on our last night together too.

  “I’m about fifteen minutes away,” he says as he pulls away from the curb.

  “I can’t go to your place. I need to get home, pack, get out of here.”

  “Fuck, Lisa. Stop. You’re not leaving.”

  Pressing my lips together, I look out the window. “I’m not going to argue about this with you.”

  “Yes, you are. Because I’m not letting you run away.”

  “Goddamn it, Marcus,” I snap. “It’s not your choice.”

  He releases a slow breath that’s filled with tension as we drive in silence until my phone starts buzzing. Seconds later, Marcus’s does the same. He hits a button on his steering wheel and noise fills the car. Music and voices. “Theo,” Marcus says.

  “Jesus. I was worried you wouldn’t answer. Are you OK? Did you get away?”

  “Yeah. I have her with me. We’re going to mine.”

  “Fuck. That was intense.”

  “Thanks for having my back. I appreciate it.”

  “Of course,” he says. “Anything for family, man.”

  Marcus nods. “I’ll call you soon, OK?”

  “Sure. I’m just glad you’re OK.”

  He hangs up and wraps his hand back around the steering wheel with careful controlled movement. I can feel the tension radiating off him. “I was going to perform the song for him tonight.”

  “I’m sorry my drama ruined it.”

  He shrugs. “Probably for the best. I’m a shit songwriter. Theo wrote all of Matiari’s hits and my stuff is heavily edited.”

  “Doesn’t make you shit. Just different. I thought your song was beautiful. The audience would have loved it too. I know they would.”

  “Because you can write hits too, huh? To think, I fucking recommended you your own music.” He shakes his head.

  “Shows you have good taste,” I say, trying to lighten the mood a little. It doesn’t work.

  “Why couldn’t you just tell me?” he demands in a frustrated burst that I ignore.

  My phone buzzes again and I pull it out of my bag, Sandra’s name lighting up my screen. God, how am I supposed to explain this to her? She’s my best friend and until now, she didn’t even know my real name. Not that it really matters anymore. Since my cover’s blown, I’ll have to find a new best friend…. Maybe it’s best if I don’t make friends at all next time.

  Rejecting the call, I tap out a message that tells her I’m sorry and will explain soon then I message Kurt, who’s also tried to call, and tell him the same. To avoid any further contact, I switch my phone off and put it away.

  Marcus pulls into the parking garage of a modern apartment building and parks in his designated space without further words passing between us.

  “Come on,” he says, cutting the engine and getting out of the car. I hug my bag to my chest, afraid that if I go up there, his apartment will become my ivory tower and I’ll never leave.

  “What about Perry?” I ask when he opens my car door. “He’s waiting at home by himself.”

  “He’s got water, food and a doggy door. We’ll get up early and get him before the paps are even awake.”

  I wipe a hand over my face. “OK,” I say, taking the hand he offers me.

  I don’t know how I feel about going up to Marcus’s place. A few hours ago, there’s no way I’d want to be seen anywhere near his residence, but right now, I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure the pictures of us together are already all over social media. No secrets now…

  With his hand wrapped around mine, he leads me inside the building, entering the lobby with a security tag on his keys. He nods at the desk attendant/security guard as he walks us to the elevator bay and inserts a small plastic key to call the lift.

  As we enter the lift cabin, I close my eyes, trying to work my way through this. “I thought you’d hate me if you ever found out,” I say, my hand hurting from the pressure of his grip.

  “Pissed is the only word I have to describe it right now.”

  “How about betrayed?”

  He turns to look at me. “Are you trying to make this worse?”

  “No. I just want you to understand.”

  Dragging his teeth over his bottom lip, he tilts his head. “See, that’s what gets me. Because I would have understood. Out of everyone in this world, I’m probably the one person who would completely understand your actions. Hell, I even understand why you don’t want to go anywhere near the industry, or anyone associated with it. But what I don’t understand is why you didn’t trust me to understand. You didn’t even give me the chance. Just some bullshit about us not working because I’m
a rock star with a reputation for fucking groupies. I thought all I had to do was prove to you that I wasn’t going anywhere, that I had no interest in fucking anyone but you. But now I realise I never had a fucking chance.”

  “Why do you think I kept telling you I didn’t want you?” I whisper, just as the doors ping open.

  He throws my hand from his grip and steps off, placing his arm against the doors so they don’t close. “Get off the fucking lift, Lisa.”

  I wrap my arm across my middle, pressing my aching hand underneath my opposite elbow. “I think I should go home.”

  “Get. Off. The. Fucking. Lift.”

  I step backwards and shake my head.

  He takes a calming breath and holds out his hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know that. But I’m hurting you. Let me go so I can stop.”

  He reaches in and grabs me by the arm, tugging me after him. “Jesus, you’re a stubborn woman.” He pushes me against the wall as the doors slide closed, caging me with his arms on either side of my shoulders. “Get it through your head, I’m not leaving. You’re not leaving. You and me, we’re fucking forever.”

  My eyes burn. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I love you, dammit. I fucking love you and I know it’s real because I would walk away from all of this in a heartbeat if it means I can be with you.”

  “What?” He can't be serious.

  He rests his forehead against mine and softens his voice. “I will give all of this up to be a regular man with you.”

  My hands lift to his face, pressing against his cheeks as I fight the swell of emotion that floods my entire body. “You’d give up your music, your fame, for me?”

  He presses his forehead a little harder into mine. “In a fucking heartbeat,” he whispers, his voice strained. Fuck. He really does mean it.

  “Marcus.” My voice barely registers as my mouth searches for his, lips teasing. I’m overwhelmed by him. Marcus is a man with the world at his feet. He’s mentioned being tired and sick of the constant touring, but to hear him so willing to walk away from everything he’s built and worked for astounds me. “You’ll end up resenting me. I can’t let you do that.”

  “It’s not your fucking choice.”

  “God. Why are you so pigheaded?”

  “Because this, Lisa.” His hands move to either side of my head. “This is what we write songs about. And if we let it go because we’re scared of what’s out there waiting for us, what’s the fucking point in any of this?”

  “I don’t know,” I cry, struggling to fight when he is literally offering me everything I want.

  “I would rather write songs and sing them to you than play twisted versions of my heart to screaming fans. I don’t want to be famous if it means I can’t have you.”

  My heart catches in my throat as I melt at his words. “Then ask me again,” I whisper, my entire body shaking.

  Pulling his head back, he sucks in a ragged breath and meets my eyes with so much pain and passion in his I think I might die. “Do you want me, Lisa?”

  I press my lips together as a tear slides from my eye. “Yes.”

  He groans as he crashes our mouths together, his hand on the back of my head while his tongue dominates my mouth, kissing me intensely before pulling back, his breath shaky as his fingers brush through my hair. “Give me more,” he forces out. “I want to hear it all.”

  “I want you,” I whisper, and he kisses me again.

  “More.”

  “I need you.” He grips my hips and presses himself against me.

  “More, Lisa. Tell me how you feel.”

  “I love you,” I admit, my heart racing from speaking the words I’ve been petrified of acknowledging.

  “I fucking knew you did,” he says as he picks me up and carries me to his room, setting me on the bed and climbing over me, gently biting my bottom lip.

  “Yeah?”

  He nods. “I know what you want. And I know I’m the only man who can give it to you.”

  “Yes,” I admit again, crying because my life feels shattered but held together, and it’s this man above me with his relentless pursuit who’s making that happen. I love him.

  “Tell me again.”

  “I want you, Marcus.”

  He runs his tongue over the shell of my ear. “What else?”

  “I need you.” He hums appreciatively as he slips his hand between us, shoving my panties to the side as he thrusts two fingers inside me.

  “And?” He lifts his head and moans, his eyes fluttering closed as my juices coat him and I rock my hips to meet the depth of his movement.

  “And I love you.” He curls his fingers inside me, massaging my g-spot. Oh god.

  “Will you stop pushing me away?” he asks, thrusting his fingers deeper. “Quit telling me we won’t work and let me be the man you need me to be?”

  A moan leaves my mouth as I nod. “Yes. I want that,” I gasp. “I’m yours. Completely.”

  “Yeah. You fucking are,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers from inside me before running my juices over my bottom lip then pushing inside my mouth. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted.” I suck on them, moaning as I taste myself on him, my core tightening at the dark desire flooding his eyes as he watches his fingers move past my lips before he withdraws them from my mouth, running them down my chin until his hand wraps around my neck. “And I’m never letting you go.”

  I gasp, my nipples going rock hard as he squeezes, balancing on his knees as he frees himself from his jeans then shoves my dress up, tugging at the side seam of my panties until it breaks and they’re nothing but a scrap around my other thigh. “Then squeeze harder,” I force out, losing my mind as he pushes his big cock inside me and tightens his grip.

  My hands wrap around his forearm, my lungs fighting for air as he pummels with his hips. In and out. In and out. He fucks with agonising precision, a slow torture of the senses dancing along that fine line between pleasure and pain.

  “You are so fucking perfect for me, Lisa. So perfect.”

  My body ignites, my nerve endings surging as I tip my head back and open my mouth as my climax hits with a blinding light. He releases my throat, and a word escapes, the only one that matters. “Marcus.”

  His hips jam against mine as he hisses through clenched teeth, spilling himself inside me. “Fuck. I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Good,” I force out, trying to catch my breath. “Because you know what’ll happen if you ever stray.”

  He laughs as he leans down and kisses me softly. “I could never. I don’t cheat.”

  “Promise me. Promise me I’m the only one. Promise me you’ll never make me share you.”

  He brushes his fingers through my hair as he looks into my eyes, conjuring up the maximum amount of sincerity a person can possess. “I promise you. I have zero interest in any woman but you. I love you. Only you. There’s no one else as perfect for me.”

  “OK,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes as I nod. “Let’s run away together.”

  He grins. “We’re not running away. We’re choosing a happy life.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Fourteen

  Marcus

  “Where do you want to live?” I ask, tracing my fingers up and down Lisa’s arm as she presses her body against me, her hand moving lightly across my chest. She feels so right in my arms, perfect in my bed. I’ve actually never brought a woman in here before, so that’s something huge in itself. Since I met her that day in the studio, I’ve become one hundred percent unequivocally devoted to her. I can’t think about another woman. I can’t imagine ever wanting to think about another woman. I met her and my world changed. She’s everything I was looking for. Even if she lied about who she was.

  As much as I hate that she didn’t tell me, I can understand her reasons behind it. Being famous isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and when things go bad, the whole wo
rld has an opinion. My success came off the back of a tantrum I threw onstage. When your emotions are pushed to the limit and you live life in the public eye, someone is inevitably going to have a camera phone trained on you when you crack. Sometimes it makes you more famous, sometimes it ruins your career.

  “Let’s go to the country,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to my skin.

  “Hmm, we can have horses.”

  “And chickens.”

  “You want chickens?”

  She nods and tilts her head up so she can see me. “I’ve always dreamed of being completely self sufficient. Grow my own food, be one with nature. It’d be incredible to shut off all the noise and forget about money and fame. It blackens the heart.”

  I nod. “Can we make like, a sex dungeon in this country ranch of ours?” I ask, primarily teasing but kind of liking the idea of a room dedicated to getting our kink on and testing our limits.

  “We can do whatever you like.” She presses herself up, arms folded across my chest as her breasts brush against my side. I’m not even sure what time it is. But it’s pitch black outside and we’ve already had sex three times. I’m guessing it’s close to midnight. “It’ll be our private world.”

  I twirl my fingers through the messy length of her hair. “Our world. I like the sound of that,” I say.

  “I’m still kind of blown away by you wanting to leave with me. Are you sure it’s what you want? Because you can change your mind and I’ll understand. It’s a lot to give up.”

  “I’m sure.” I give her hair a gentle tug and she smiles. “Remember when I first met you? All I wanted was to stop, take a moment and make a real connection with someone who wasn’t interested in me for my fame. I wanted to remember what it was like to be normal so I could appreciate this extravagant life I’ve been given, come back fresh so I could finish out my contract with a clear head. But the longer I spent with you, the further I fell, the more I realised that I hate this life. I hate the man I am when I’m Marcus Bailey, rock star. I like who I am with you, just Marcus, the guy who will do anything to be with his girl.”