RESTLESS: A Less Than Zero Rockstar Romance Prequel: Book 0.5 - Carter & Lianne

by Kaylene Winter

  RESTLESS

  A Less Than Zero Rockstar Romance: Carter & Lianne

  A Prequel Novella

  By

  Kaylene Winter

  © 2020

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  RESTLESS is the prequel to my Less Than Zero Rockstar Romance series about the members of the rock band “Less Than Zero” and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees.

  Each book is written as an “interconnected” standalone, focusing on the two main characters of that particular book. However, all of the characters’ stories take place simultaneously much of the time, so everyone pops up in everyone else’s book.

  I love to create a vivid world!!

  Bottom line you can read in any order, but if you want to soak up every last detail of my characters and their antics, you will want to read all of the books in the series, consecutively if possible!

  Contents

  Prologue: Carter

  CHAPTER 1: Lianne

  CHAPTER 2: Carter

  CHAPTER 3: Lianne

  CHAPTER 4: Carter

  CHAPTER 5: Lianne

  CHAPTER 6: Carter

  CHAPTER 7: Carter

  CHAPTER 8: Lianne

  CHAPTER 9: Carter

  CHAPTER 10: Lianne

  CHAPTER 11: Carter

  EPILOGUE: Carter

  Dedication

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  CARTER

  Present Day

  History never repeats itself.

  That’s a motherfucking lie.

  It’s also the motherfucking truth.

  It all depends on your perspective.

  “Holy shit, Carter. It’s like déjà vu.” My best friend Gus Reynolds stood next to me, slack-jawed. “It’s like seeing you play here for the first time all those years ago.”

  Gus owned The Mission, Seattle’s most enduring and iconic live music venue. We were watching my son Zane shred through one of the most intricate yet nuanced guitar solos I’d ever heard. Lost in the music, his face contorted with each note. Expressions mirroring the emotions he squeezed out of his instrument.

  Bliss.

  Rage.

  Sorrow.

  How I loved my son.

  How I’d let him down.

  Too many times to count.

  Now, Zane’s band, Less Than Zero—or LTZ as they were more affectionately referred to—was poised to steal my band Limelight’s rock-and-roll crown. At least, if I had anything to say about it. “Yeah, they’re good,” I finally answered Gus. Little had changed in the twenty-plus years since Limelight had played the same sticky stage. The club was perpetually dank and dark and smelled of old beer and Pine-Sol.

  My neutral observation masked my total and utter excitement. The kids on stage were poised for true greatness. I felt it in my bones. The energy throughout the club was electrified. Intense. Every single person here tonight knew they were witnessing something special.

  My son’s mop of dark, unruly hair hid his infectious grin and dark-brown eyes while he bounced all over the stage. A natural performer, he engaged everyone in the crowd. Drew them in. He’d learned from the best—me, but somehow for him it was effortless. At an early age his mother Lianne and I realized he was a musical savant. Tonight, I was in awe, just as I had been from the day and hour he was born.

  His other band members were spectacularly talented too. Lead singer Tyson Rainier had been Zane’s best friend from the time he’d moved back in with me at age sixteen. They’d bonded over their love of guitar, but Ty’s voice was like the second coming of Chris Cornell mixed with Geoff Tate and a little Johnny Cash in between. Ty was practically homeless when Zane first brought him over to our house. After hearing him sing just once, I took it upon myself to secretly ensure he had proper training. Like Zane, Ty was a musical unicorn, he’d deserved my investment.

  Rounding out the band were bassist Conner McLoughlin and drummer Jace Deveraux, who played the Seattle college circuit for years. They also had my stamp of approval. Solid, hardworking and talented, the duo provided a steady backdrop to showcase the two virtuosos in the band.

  Gus handed me a Diet Coke. “What did your management office say?”

  “They’re in.” I took a sip, simultaneously wishing it were a beer and lamenting I’d never have a taste of the hoppy beverage ever again. “I’m having this show recorded to send over for final vetting. The social numbers are out of this world. There shouldn’t be a problem.”

  A tiny, dark-haired pixie came up behind us. “Dad, let me settle the show on my own tonight. I won’t ever be able to take over this place if you don’t let me handle some of this stuff.”

  “Fine, Fiona.” Gus booped his daughter on the nose, causing her to wrinkle it in protest. “If you want to fuck around with Zane’s ego, offer to settle up with Ty.”

  I laughed. Fiona rolled her eyes and resumed her position behind the bar.

  Zane had become the de facto business manager of the band. Ty was too shy, he really only came alive on stage. Connor was distracted by family stuff. Jace had his hands full with LTZ’s social media. Leaving my son, man of little attention span, to handle the money. Surprisingly, he took the job very seriously. And, like everything else he put his mind to, he knocked it out of the park.

  He’d shit a brick to have Fiona in a room alone for ten minutes. She was a few months older, but they’d been playmates since they were born. Throughout high school and into adulthood, Zane had an unrequited crush on the gorgeous girl who was like a daughter to me. She’d been very careful not to lead him on, but he was determined to win her heart.

  Luckily, I’d set up a six-month tour for the band. None of these guys needed the distraction of a girlfriend when their career was just getting started.

  I was living proof.

  LTZ started one of their newer songs, a slow, sultry groove. Ty stood at the front of the stage like he owned it, scanning the crowd. His duct-taped Doc Martin tapped the beat. His eyes fixated on something in the crowd and in an instant, his entire demeanor changed. Almost like he’d been struck by lightning. The expression on his face was dreamy when his eyes locked on someone close to the stage.

  I made a move from the back of the club, wanting to see who caught Ty’s eye. Down in front were two young blonde girls, the shorter girl with loads of wild hair seemed to be the object of his fascination. She looked like a deer in headlights when Ty made eye contact with her. Ty was a very good-looking dude, which was another reason he made such a compelling front man. Many girls tried to get his attention, but his focus was on the band. Survival. Getting his life on track. He never took the bait.

  Until now.

  Moving stealthily closer, I dodged a couple of fans and kept an eye on Ty and the girl throughout the rest of the show. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, though she was more demure about it. After the show, I observed Ty approach her and have an awkward interaction. It didn’t surprise me, seeking out a young lady was unprecedented for LTZ’s singer. When he disappeared with her moments later?

  Also unprecedented.

  Unacceptable.

  The last thing any of the guys in LTZ needed were distractions, especially Ty. Connor was already practically married, though I didn’t foresee that relationship lasting long. Jace had no interest in a girlfriend, only a good
time. His crush on Fiona aside, my son was a horndog who’d never shown interest in a longer-term relationship.

  Which was good.

  Over the next few months, the guys were recording their first album then going on tour. With a distribution deal, my management team behind them and social media numbers that grew stronger every day?

  LTZ was poised to be the biggest band out of Seattle since Limelight.

  Fuck, yeah.

  Even though I was barely past forty, I made the guys suffer through my endless old-man lectures about keeping their cocks wrapped up, so I wasn’t worried about mistakes or diseases. Tonight, I was more concerned about my pseudo-son Ty’s fragile heart. After the considerable personal currency—both financial and industry—I’d put into LTZ, there was no way I’d allow the band to be derailed by some girl trying to get her hooks into one of them.

  I’d already been there and done that.

  With disastrous results.

  Motherfucking history would not repeat itself in this case.

  CHAPTER 1

  LIANNE

  Twenty three years prior

  Carter Pope’s long, black curls flew behind him when he skidded across the stage on his knees, punctuating the end of a guitar solo that ripped the hearts out of the entire sold-out crowd at The Mission. His eyes were squeezed shut, like he’d just had the best orgasm of his life. Sweat shone on his ripped chest, arms and abs, all of which were covered with tattoos ranging from musical scrolls to script to vines. One arm held his guitar away from his body, the other arm remained dramatically raised high in the air, thick leather-studded bracelets enclosed both his wrists. Two crosses hung from chains around his neck, pointing to a happy trail which disappeared into his worn, tattered leather pants.

  My mouth watered just looking at him.

  My pussy flooded with desire when I saw the distinct bulge of his hard cock.

  He’d been pursuing me for months, but I’d held him off. Not because I didn’t want him. Everyone wanted him. He was the sexiest, coolest musician on the club circuit right now. And charming as hell. The thing is? I deserved to be more than a notch on his bedpost. After all, I’d just been promoted from soloist to principal dancer at the Pacific Northwest Ballet.

  A ballerina of my stature had options. I had my pick of lovers. Hot, young models. Wealthy older men. Tech geeks. I wanted the budding rock star, and I’d have him. When Carter and I eventually fucked—and we’d fuck, make no mistake—I wanted him to be hooked.

  Together, we’d be Seattle royalty.

  The rock star and the famous dancer.

  I could see it so clearly.

  When Limelight finished their set, I positioned myself on a stool in the grimy bar. No need for Carter to think I watched his entire show. The fact I was even here after I’d played coy about whether I was coming or not was enough. With every ounce of willpower I had, I fixed my gaze straight ahead, while I slowly sipped my vodka soda with lime.

  Waiting.

  Anticipating.

  “Aren’t you a vision.” Carter’s hoarse voice was close to my ear, the floral tattoos on his hands visible where they rested on each shoulder. “Have you been here long?”

  I smiled, composed myself and leaned back into his embrace. “I caught the last song.”

  “Liar,” he whispered, causing my entire body to shiver with anticipation and need.

  Turning slightly, I tilted my head up to rub my nose on his scruffy chin. “Prove it.”

  In an instant, my barstool was spun around and Carter stepped in between my knees. He clutched my hips, yanking me forward so his still-hard cock rested against my core. Letting me know it was for me. He leaned in close and brushed his lips along my ear and down my neck. “I’m so fucking obsessed with you, Lianne. Please put me out of my misery.”

  Before I could reply, his lips found mine. His tongue pressed inside to begin a mating dance with mine, tentatively, then more aggressively. Carter’s hands moved to cup my butt, pulling me tighter to him so he could grind his cock against me as we kissed. I wound my arms around his neck, not caring that he was still sweaty from his performance. No, the opposite. He turned me on like I’d never been turned on before.

  Lost in our public make-out, I was startled when a loud round of applause interrupted the moment.

  “Fuck yeah, Pope!” Beau Bixby, Limelight’s lead singer clinked his Rainier beer bottle against drummer Siggy Bengstton’s own brewski. “Lianne, you look especially lovely tonight.”

  I rolled my eyes and disentangled myself from Carter, smoothing my skirt back over my legs, which were clad in thigh-high black stockings. I wore a simple off-the-shoulder black jersey sweater and black combat boots. My hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail. Topping off my look was a black velvet choker and giant silver hoop earrings.

  “After party at our pad?” Limelight’s bass player, Lucas Williams and rhythm guitarist, Frankie Rossini joined us at the bar.

  “Fuck yeah,” Carter mumbled, never taking his eyes off me. “Lianne, come with us.”

  “I don’t think so, guys.” I picked up my drink from the sticky bar. “I’m not into it.”

  Frankie scoffed and walked away, muttering, “Uptight bitch.”

  Carter’s eyes bored into mine, challenging me. I stared right back at him, not willing to bend for him or any man. “Come with me,” he mouthed.

  I raised an eyebrow. Shook my head.

  “We’re outta here, see ya back at the junkyard.” Siggy gave us a middle-finger salute. “Carter, settle up with Gus, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Carter answered, not looking away from me.

  I reached under the bar, where my purse was dangling from a broken hook. “Well, Carter. I’m going to head home.”

  His tattooed hand traced my hairline. “Stop by the party. Just for half an hour.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Please.” Our eyes remained locked. Carter motioned to the bartender for a pen, and turned my palm over to write down the location of the famous Limelight crash pad. “I just want to talk to you, I promise.”

  “Maybe.” I pulled my hand away.

  “See you there.” Carter stepped back “I gotta settle up.”

  And then he disappeared back into the crowd.

  Thirty minutes later, I climbed the dilapidated steps up to the “Junkyard,” which certainly lived up to its name. Old furniture, burned-out cars, and piles of garbage littered the yard. The house itself looked like it would implode from rot and decay at any moment. The porch was soggy. When I reached out to open the door, it swung open.

  Carter’s boyish face gleamed with happiness. “You came!”

  “I’m here.”

  He opened the door wider to let me in and yelled, “Yo, guys! My future wife just arrived.”

  CHAPTER 2

  CARTER

  Three months later

  Lianne Rocks was, hands down, the most beautiful, talented woman to ever walk the face of the earth. What she was doing with me, I didn’t know. I was a Puyallup Indian reservation kid. Son of a raging, heroin-addicted father, who died when I was ten. My mother was singularly focused on tribal activism, with little time for me.

  I moved to Seattle to pursue my rock star dreams when I was seventeen, just to get away from the madness.

  My girlfriend of three months lay sleeping next to me, her strawberry-blonde hair draped over my arm, which was wrapped around her shoulder. Porcelain skin peppered with a smattering of light-red freckles danced along her nose. Long, black eyelashes fluttered in sleep. Her long, lithe dancer’s body wound together with mine.

  God I loved her. Loved her with every fiber of my being.

  “Are you staring at me again?” Lianne’s gray eyes opened drowsily. “You’re so weird, Carter.”

  “What?” I ran my hand down her flat stomach to her thatch of trimmed, red hair at the juncture between her legs. Cupping her sex, I inserted two fingers into her soaked channel. “I can’t help that I want to
fuck you right now, babe.”

  Lianne opened her legs to allow me easier access. “You’re such a silver-tongued devil.”

  “You don’t really like sweet talk, do ya?” I plunged my fingers in and out of her, spreading her slickness all around her pussy. “I. Want. To. Fuck. You.”

  She turned in my arms, causing the sheet to fall away from our naked bodies. Her pale-pink nipples pointed up from her nearly flat chest. My mouth immediately fastened on one of them, nibbling then sucking. Lianne threw her arms above her head, watching me. “So, fuck me then.”

  I kissed my way down her concave stomach, stopped for a few minutes to give her clit a little tongue action, then reached down to grip both her ankles in my hands. Bending her knees up to her stomach, I placed her feet on my shoulders and turned my head to kiss and suckle her destroyed big toes, one after the other. Dancing took a toll on my lady’s feet, so I always showed them a little extra love.

  Then I feasted my eyes on the prize. Her pink, puffy pussy glistened below me. I canted my hips so my cock nudged her opening. Lianne’s eyes closed when I pressed inside her tight channel.

  “Fuuuuuuuucckkk,” I groaned when she contracted around me like a boss.

  “Carter Pope, fuck me like you mean it.” Lianne clenched and unclenched my cock with her pussy. God love a dancer and her control of every muscle of her body.

  I slammed my hips forward, moving her body with the effort. The headboard banged against the wall. Again. Slam. Bang. Again. Slam. Bang. “Ohhh, Carter,” Lianne moaned. “Do it again.”

  Picking up the pace, I rammed into her over and over. The bed thumped on the ground. Lianne was a loud lover, her squeals of pleasure always egged me on. I let go of her legs, reached under us and grasped her tiny ass in my hands so we didn’t lose momentum when I rolled us over. My vicious kitten clawed her nails down my back, drawing blood. Our mouths slammed together.

  Biting. Nipping. Sucking.

  Then I slammed her back down on my cock almost violently.

  If it were physically possible to crawl inside her, I would have.