Hot Mess: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players #1)

by Diamond, Jaine

  The fact that she’d given me the green light to take her out as soon as this project was done had me seriously fucked in the head.

  I was fucking waiting on her, when I swore to myself I’d never wait on anyone again.

  I tried to focus on my playlist. This was important to Summer, which meant it was important to our band. But I just got more distracted when Danica came into the dining room… watching her measure and remeasure as she fussed around, making the picture straight.

  She’d hung the image of my mom on the wall, and I looked at it over her shoulder.

  “That look straight from over there?” she asked me. “My level says it’s right.”

  My eyes dropped to her ass as she thrust one hip out. “Looks great to me.”

  Then “Super Freak” came on and she burst out laughing.

  “Your song choices are quite… eclectic… today.”

  “They’re Summer’s.”

  She smiled at me, with a flash of curiosity in her eyes, and went back to her work.

  I finally finished my playlist and sent the Apple Music link over to Summer with a note: Fire up your quarter-million-dollar speakers, baby.

  Then I set my phone aside. Danica had danced herself into my bedroom, and I went after her. I helped her hang up the beach photo, just to be close to her.

  This close, she had a faintly flowery, sexy girl smell; a smell that was now embedded in my subconscious with the smell of her come on my fingers.

  “What’s that scent?” I asked as we stood back and checked out the photo.

  “What?” She lifted her arm and gave her armpit a little sniff. “I guess I’m a little sweaty…”

  I smirked. “You smell like flowers and stuff.”

  “Oh. I don’t wear perfume. Lotion?”

  “Whatever it is… it’s good.”

  “You like it?” Not flirtatious. More like she was surprised I’d noticed or something.

  I looked her right in her soft blue eyes. “Makes me want to bury my face between your legs so I can taste you again.”

  Her eyes widened, her pupils dilating as she stared at me. “Uh… I have a lot more work to do.”

  Then she dashed out into the living room.

  I sighed.

  For the next few hours, I helped her hang curtains, stuff pillows, and organize shit in my closets. She even washed my new bedding before she put it on the bed.

  Then I had to take off. I had plans with Coop. My ex-bassist was in town and I told him we’d do dinner.

  “What time will you be done tonight?” I asked Danica before I left.

  “About ten, I think.”

  “What about dinner?”

  “I’ll just order in a bite when I get hungry.”

  “You know, you could come with me…”

  She smiled at me. “Thank you. But there’s a lot to do, and I’d like to get it done. I have a pretty busy week with other clients.”

  “Yeah? You do all this stuff for them, too?” At the moment, she was sitting on my bedroom floor with my socks in balls around her, organizing them by activity. Snowboarding socks, mountain biking socks, workout socks.

  “If they pay me to,” she said.

  “So you’re saying I’m paying you overtime tonight to organize my socks?”

  “Well, I could slow down. But that would just push our date back, wouldn’t it?” She smiled up at me again.

  Jesus Christ… She sat there on my floor with my clothes spread out around her, in her little cutoffs, with her shirt hanging off her shoulder, and fuck if I was gonna complain about whatever it cost me.

  “Organize away. I’ll be back at nine-fifty-nine,” I told her as I left. “Don’t leave until I get here.”

  “What if you’re late?” she called after me.

  “I won’t be.”

  * * *

  When I walked back in the door—at nine-forty-seven—my place was all cozy. Danica had my new lamps on, glowing in the living room and bedroom. She had the candles she’d given me—there were five of them now—burning on a metal tray on the new coffee table.

  And even though the candles were scented, the whole place smelled faintly of her.

  Danica was just coming out of the guest bathroom. “Hey, good timing. I’m all done for the night.”

  “Yeah? You’re done?” I let my eyes wander down her curves. “Fucking finally.”

  “For tonight,” she repeated.

  “Well, then. Let me see you out.” I reached for her, hooking my arm around her waist and yanking her against me. Then I laid one on her.

  I kissed her so hard and so good, she didn’t seem to know what was coming. Neither did I, exactly. Maybe the handful of beers I had with dinner made the decision for me, because my tongue was already in her mouth, and after a tiny hesitation, she kissed me back.

  So what did I care if we were violating her professional boundaries? Her mouth didn’t seem to care. Her tongue was all over mine, even as she tried half-heartedly to fend me off with her soft hands.

  “I’ll just… have to come back tomorrow night… with a few final items…” she told me between kisses.

  Then she managed to slither away—and right out the door.

  “Good night!” she called down the hallway as I stood in my doorway with my dick throbbing, watching her hightail it to the elevator. She’d even managed to grab up some of the cardboard and wrapping that some of my new stuff had been delivered in, and took an armload of it with her.

  Considerate.

  She pressed the elevator button and stood there smiling at me, looking flushed.

  I leaned on the doorframe and fucked her with my eyes.

  “You don’t have to go.”

  “See you tomorrow, Mr. Player,” she said politely.

  I rolled my eyes. Back to the Mr. Player shit?

  She dashed onto the elevator and disappeared.

  I went back inside and adjusted my dick in my jeans. Fucking painful.

  This chick was torturing me… and I couldn’t even be pissed at her for it. She had all her adorable little professional principles, and I was trying to respect them.

  I didn’t respect them, honestly, but I kinda admired her for trying to stick to them.

  Especially if it was torturing her anywhere near as bad as it was torturing me.

  If it were up to me, we’d be fucking on the floor right now.

  Now there was a thought…

  I groaned.

  “Calm the fuck down,” I told my dick as I wandered into the kitchen. “One more day and she’ll be ours.”

  And now I was having a one-way conversation with my dick, out loud.

  This girl was literally driving me nuts.

  I opened the fridge and slugged back some pineapple juice, like half a jug of it, just trying to cool off. Then I walked through the apartment and checked out her work. All her little touches… I could feel her everywhere. The cushions on the couch, which I’d never buy for myself. The soft, shaggy rug she’d put under the new coffee table.

  She was right about everything.

  It looked fantastic.

  And it felt better. Way better. It was the same apartment, but it was like a whole new home.

  My home.

  Danica had left little pink sticky notes everywhere, with her pretty handwriting on them. Almost every cupboard or drawer had one on it. Your dish towels are in here now… Stuff like that.

  When I walked into the bedroom, I found a sticky note by the bed. She’d turned down the sheets for me, like in some hotel, and there were three pillows lined up at the head of the bed in matching gray pillowcases.

  The note said: 3… just in case.

  I smiled to myself.

  Then I went to take a shower. Seriously considered jacking off… but I didn’t. I wanted to talk to Danica again before I went to sleep. And I knew where that would lead.

  After I showered, I stretched out on my new bed, naked. I really wasn’t anywhere near ready to sleep. I’d
probably listen to some tunes, maybe play some guitar later. But I got comfy and I texted Danica.

  Me: Nice touch with the pillows

  Within a minute, my phone buzzed with her response.

  Danica: I try to exceed client expectations.

  Me: Seriously youve done a great job

  Danica: It’s not done yet.

  Me: You really gonna let me take you out when its done?

  Danica: Yes.

  My dick twitched, happy as fuck about that.

  I slid my hand down over it and gave myself a slow stroke.

  Me: What r u wearing?

  Danica: On our date?

  Me: Right now

  Danica: Mom jeans, a baggy sweater with holes in it, granny panties and a sweat stained sports bra.

  I grinned.

  Me: Youre turning me on

  Danica: Is it possible to turn you off?

  Me: Not if youre you. R u in bed?

  Danica: You are a player.

  Me: I can play this game all night

  Me: Why dont you come back here and show me your granny panties

  Danica: Maybe next time. I have to delouse my hair and scrape back my nail fungus.

  Fuck… she really was determined to fend me off.

  Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t working.

  Me: Seen your nails babe. No fungus in sight. You promised me a date. Dont let me down

  Danica: Yes, I promised. Hopefully the lice will be gone by then…

  Me: You really know how to kill a guys hard on

  Total lie.

  Danica: It’s a talent.

  Me: You should get some sleep. You wont be getting any tomorrow night

  Danica: Tomorrow night I’m finishing your place.

  Me: Yeah and after that I’m taking you on a date that may never end

  Danica: Right afterward? I was hoping to have time to get this mole cluster removed and lance off the warts first. But suit yourself.

  I laughed. And squeezed my rock-hard dick.

  Me: Nice try. Tomorrow night

  Danica: Ok. I should sleep… so I won’t have to run late tomorrow and miss our date.

  Me: Good night gorgeous

  Shit. By the time we were finished that conversation, I was aching hard.

  I turned the phone to silent and put it aside. If I didn’t jerk off, I was seriously afraid I was gonna blow out an artery or something.

  As I worked my dick with my hand, I closed my eyes and thought of Danica’s mouth… her juicy lips. I was already breathing hard, and my heart thudded in a desperate rhythm. I thought of her calves, and her ass in those little cutoffs. Her smooth, bare thighs…

  I thought of her smile and her long soft hair.

  I thought of her on her back in my bed, legs spread and my tongue snaking up her pussy as she made all kinds of pretty little sounds.

  I came. I didn’t even try to draw it out or toy with myself for a while. I just needed to get off before my heart exploded.

  Hours alone in an apartment with Danica and not being able to touch her… That goodbye kiss… Her flirty texts…

  I couldn’t take it anymore.

  And it hit me, as I collapsed on the bed… that I’d passed the point where I cared about getting hurt.

  I’d dropped my guard with her—and switched into hungry mode.

  I was officially more hungry for Danica Vola than I was afraid of getting hurt by her.

  And coming with my dick in my hand while I thought about her pussy?

  Jesus Christ. I was seeing stars and my whole body was still trembling.

  What the hell was gonna happen when I actually got her naked?

  I was either gonna be disappointed by the real thing when it didn’t live up to my fantasies… or when this girl’s pussy squeezed my dick, I was very possibly gonna have a heart attack.

  Thing was, I was willing to take the risk.

  Something told me she’d be worth it.

  When I’d caught my breath, I reached over for some of the tissues that my interior decorator had so thoughtfully left on one of my new bedside tables, to clean up. As I did, I noticed my phone had lit up with an incoming message… from Danica.

  Actually, there were three of them.

  Danica: Sorry, I feel bad about lying to you.

  Danica: The truth is I’m not wearing anything. I’m trying to sleep and I’m thinking about you.

  Danica: Good night, Ashley.

  I groaned, then reread her messages.

  Fuck, but I needed inside this woman.

  Tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Danica

  The next evening, I went over to Ashley’s place to take care of all the finishing touches. I had a few nice-looking, low maintenance bachelor plants—hardy cacti that wouldn’t die when he went away on tour and totally forgot to water them for months at a time—and the last round of storage bins for his closets.

  I had everything in a couple of giant shopping bags when he opened the door, and his manners had definitely improved since our first meeting, because he took them off my hands right away. He put them in the kitchen and stared at me as I stood in the entryway.

  Granted, I was expecting him to stare. Or at least check me out. He always did. And tonight, I was wearing a sexy outfit for our date later on.

  This one was different than the sexy outfits he’d seen me in before. Leather-look leggings, black and skin-tight, which I saved for very special/sexy occasions. And a flirty, sleeveless blouse, gray with subtle sparkles.

  I’d finished it all off with one of my tangled-chain bracelets with little silver skull charms on it and a couple of my favorite vintage rings. And some subtly smoky eye makeup. My hair was down, with loose waves at the ends.

  I felt incredibly ready for a date with a rock star, style-wise.

  The rest of me? Less ready. More like excited/nervous, especially when Ashley looked me over the way he did.

  Slowly. Thoroughly.

  Hungrily.

  “I’ve got plants!” I announced, like it was the most exciting thing that could ever happen, and started digging them out, setting them on his counter in a line. There were four of them, each in a black pot. “Where should we put them…?”

  Then I busied myself with finding new homes for his cacti, and after that, organizing the last of his closet stuff into the bins.

  I’d thrown in the organizing service for free, but I hadn’t actually told him that. I didn’t plan to. I really didn’t mind doing it.

  Honestly, I would’ve come hang out at his place and organize his socks and towels and stuff for free any day. I liked decorating and organizing, and he was definitely my favorite client, ever.

  He was my unicorn, after all.

  Ashley waited, patiently, while I finished my work.

  The exact second I was done, he took me by the hand and said in a low voice, “Work time’s over. Play time starts now.”

  Then he yanked me toward the door.

  His hand was on the doorknob when he suddenly stopped. I almost bumped into him. He swiped his hand over his face, turned to me, muttered, “Fuck it,” and kissed me.

  Hard.

  Just like he had last night, he thrust his pierced tongue into my mouth… and heat flashed through me. The butterflies flitted to life.

  But this time, I was a little more prepared for it.

  I mean, I’d expected him to kiss me at some point tonight.

  I’d even brought condoms in my purse.

  Lots of condoms.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him right back, with all the hunger and passion I’d been dying to unleash on him for weeks now…

  To hell with taking it slow.

  His arms went around my waist and he crushed me against him. Then he started walking me backward, toward his bedroom, while we made out.

  I went along, eagerly.

  Maybe it would’ve been nice to go out on a real date… but to hell with that, too.


  He wasn’t really my client anymore, so no guilt there. He hadn’t even been billed for my services yet, but whatever.

  My sister had officially given me her blessing to hook up with him, and I knew she wasn’t into him, so no guilt there either.

  He’d been trying to get with me for a while now, and I was tired of playing it careful. There was nothing to make me hesitate anymore.

  I wanted him, and he wanted me.

  Why wait?

  By the time we got to the bed, my lips were bruised and I was desperate to get his clothes off. Not only was it time for us to do this, but it was time for me to release the damn brakes and make a move. Let him know how badly I wanted him.

  I’d only been fantasizing about this moment for weeks.

  By now, I had vivid, detailed ideas about all the delicious things I wanted to do to him and his dick… over and over again. So I was gonna do them. Tonight.

  I was going to fuck him.

  In fact, I was pretty damn determined to give Ashley Player the ride of his fucking life tonight. I realized he was a rock star and a player and all, so that was probably a tall order.

  But I had some game…

  I tore off his T-shirt—and got an eyeful of his bare upper body for the first time. My breath caught.

  Oh. Lord.

  I’d seen his body in photos. Seen him onstage at concerts with his shirt off, all sweaty and cut and inked. And that was awesome all on its own, but it wasn’t this.