Rock Me: Sexy (New Adult Rockstar Romance) (New Adult Rock Star Erotic Romance)

by Quinn, Arabella

  Tyler shifted in the uncomfortable chair. “If it’s so fucking good, why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?”

  Scott took a gulp of his beer. “It’s fucking good, Tyler. I just don’t know if you guys will go for it. Or if you should, for that matter. I’m torn. For me personally, for Cold Fusion- this will clinch it. But I’ve been with you guys from the start. I think of you all like my own sons. And this might not… Ahh, hell, I don’t know.”

  Tyler couldn’t imagine why Scott would be hesitant about something that would propel the band to even higher stardom. “Sure we’ll do it. As long as you’re not talking about extending the goddamn tour. We’ve already lined up studio time to record the next album-”

  “No, the tour stays the same.” Scott ran a hand over his shaved head. “The next album release is already in the can, so we can’t fuck around with producing it late. But this opportunity would push that album multi-platinum, no doubt. And it will give me some negotiating muscle. I’m sure I could get you guys an even bigger slice of the pie. Myself, too.”

  Tyler tapped his foot impatiently. “What the fuck is it, Scott? You’ve got us headlining some giant festival? What could be bigger than Time’s Square on New Year’s Eve?”

  Scott took a deep breath. “It’s a reality TV show about Cold Fusion on tour.”

  A burst of laughter escaped from Tyler. “What? Are you kidding?”

  “Not kidding. The Vibe already ordered six episodes.” Scott was clearly studying his reaction.

  Tyler felt a buzz of warmth collecting in his veins, not unlike the high he felt right before he took center stage at a concert. He lived for that feeling.

  On stage, Tyler felt invincible. Like the fucking king of the world. Thousands of fans screaming his name, watching his every move, even idolizing him. And the moment he stepped off the stage, he ached to have that back. Like a fucking addict, he was always trying to replicate that feeling. Years back, he had gotten into a bad place trying to recapture that high with drugs and alcohol. Thankfully, he never could match that feeling satisfactorily, and he was able to pull out of his dark spiral.

  Now, he was itching to get out on the road again. Recognition from fans, media, publicity and promotional events all served to pacify him until he could get his next fix on stage. Alex called him a fame whore. So he liked a bit of attention? Was that so bad?

  But a reality TV show called to him like a beautiful but deadly siren singing her haunting melody and luring him to inevitable shipwreck along the rocky coast. He knew within seconds that he wanted to do it. He could even foresee the potential negative consequences for himself and his band quite clearly, yet the draw of the spotlight was irresistible.

  Tyler tried to wipe the silly grin off his face and appear more serious. “Jesus, Scott. That would change all our lives. And not necessarily for the better.”

  “Yeah, but I can already see that you want to do it. Tyler, this thing could make us all filthy rich. The worldwide recognition and promotion this will give Cold Fusion is enormous. From that standpoint, this offer is a no-brainer.”

  Trying to calm the adrenaline pumping through body, Tyler took a long drag of his beer. “Or we could end up looking like a bunch of dopes and this could crush everything we’ve worked so hard for.”

  Scott looked conflicted again. “That’s something we have to nail down. I have a meeting later with the head honchos over at the Vibe channel. I want you in on this so that we can get the flavor of what this show is gonna look like. Then, you’ll have to help me sell it to the guys. But if we don’t sign, I was told that they’ll find another band. The show is a definite go.”

  Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he thought. “Alex is not going to want this. Nick is a wildcard. Who the fuck knows what’s going on with him lately? Tommy would probably just roll with it... So, they’re going to just follow us around on tour and tape backstage footage? It wouldn’t be so bad.”

  Scott shrugged. “I imagine they’ll want to see interactions with fans and wild parties and stuff- just the regular rock and roll lifestyle. You would carry on as normal, except cameras would be following you all over the place. We’ve got some leverage because they want Cold Fusion. And I’m going to wield every bit of that leverage to keep creative control in our hands.”

  “Fuck. Alex will be so against this.”

  Scott held up his hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First we have to get some more details. We’re not committing to anything today. We’ve got about another half hour before the meeting. Let’s grab another brew before we head out.”

  ***

  Tyler and Scott shared a cab to the address of the Vibe headquarters, a massive steel skyscraper that was ironically dwarfed by the behemoths surrounding it.

  Scott grabbed Tyler’s arm and stopped him before they entered. “Hey, if it even comes up today, don’t do any talking about money. Let me take care of all those negotiations.”

  “Yeah. I’m just here to listen.” He noticed the look of doubt cross Scott’s face.

  Tyler wasn’t exactly known for keeping his mouth shut, but Scott didn’t have to worry this time. He wasn’t all that interested in money. He wanted a good, fair deal of course, but he had learned long ago that money couldn’t solve every problem. He still couldn’t help the one person in his life that needed it the most; no matter how much money he spent trying.

  After spending at least 10 minutes going through a surprisingly stringent security check, they were sent to the 16th floor. The elevator doors opened onto a large open reception area filled with Vibe memorabilia and promotional posters from the channel’s various hit shows.

  Scott approached the reception desk while Tyler idly looked at some of the displays.

  Looking irritated, Scott returned. “Looks like they’re putting us on ice for an hour.”

  “We have to wait here that long? I haven’t even eaten yet today.” Waiting around was bullshit. Maybe he could get a bite to eat and then come back.

  Scott moved to the leather sofa and sat. “Don’t even think about leaving. It probably won’t be that long. It could just be a strategy to make us feel less important. Or maybe we just aren’t that damn important to them.”

  Shit. Scott was losing his so-called leverage already and they hadn’t even started the meeting yet. Tyler let out a long breath of frustration. He needed to remain calm. Despite looking more like a meathead, Scott was a shrewd businessman and knew what he was doing. He had made Cold Fusion the success that it was today and he had always steered the guys in the correct direction.

  Scott chose a magazine from the coffee table and started leafing through it. He spoke without looking up. “The receptionist recognized you. She’s probably calling all her friends right now.”

  Tyler looked at the woman behind the large wooden reception desk. She was glancing his way and giggling while she talked on the telephone in hushed tones. She was kind of cute. She would be even hotter if she pulled the bun out of her hair, lost the prim suit jacket and unbuttoned her blouse a bit.

  In fact, maybe he’d go talk to her. See if he could loosen her up a bit. Anything beat watching Scott read outdated gossip magazines. Unless Tyler was starring in them himself, of course.

  Scott looked up from his magazine and rolled his eyes, almost as if he could read Tyler’s mind. Tyler shrugged and strolled casually over to the reception desk.

  The woman’s face flushed as she saw him approaching. She whispered a little too loudly, “Oooh. I gotta go. He’s coming over here!”

  Tyler leaned against the desk and smiled. “Hi.”

  The woman stood up. “Hello, Tyler, er… Mr. Matthews. Can I get you anything?”

  Tyler slipped off his shades and flashed his trademark smile. “Call me Tyler. I guess my disguise didn’t work? You know who I am?”

  The woman giggled. “Um…yeah. And I’m a huge fan of Cold Fusion. I was at two of your concerts last summer. They were awesome.”

  “That’s
great.” It felt good to be appreciated. The feeling still hadn’t gotten stale for him.

  She looked up at him shyly. “Would you mind…”

  Her star struck gaze melted from her face when she focused slightly over his left shoulder.

  Tyler glanced behind him. Two young female employees were walking through a back set of doors and across the reception area, over towards the desk.

  One of the girls giggled and held up a stack of papers. “We brought down that urgent report that you needed right away, Rachel.”

  Rachel looked irritated as she muttered, “It could have waited.”

  Tyler suppressed a laugh as the girl handed over a stack of seemingly blank papers to the annoyed receptionist.

  The girl turned to Tyler acting surprised. “Oh my God! You’re Tyler Matthews from Cold Fusion! Can I get a picture with you?”

  Tyler shrugged. The more girls the merrier. What did he care?

  She thrust her smart phone at her friend and leaned up close against his body. After the friend snapped the photo, she asked to switch places with her friend to have a photo taken with her.

  As they were taking the second picture, a stern voice bellowed. “Ladies, what is going on here?”

  Tyler turned to see an older woman, who was all business, scowling at the younger employees. She reminded Tyler of his elementary school librarian who had always yelled at him.

  “Wendy and Jean, back to work. Rachel, the Nakamura group will be here any moment. Escort them to the executive conference room straight away. It’s all set up and waiting for them. And I will take care of Mr. …”

  She turned to him expectantly. He answered, “Tyler.”

  Just then, the elevator chimed and the door slid open. A group of four Japanese businessmen filed into the atrium. Rachel quickly approached the men as the older woman steered Tyler away from the desk and toward the back corner of the room.

  Tyler laughed. She had practically dragged him away by the ear.

  “Mr. Tyler. I suppose you’re some sort of a celebrity that I’m too much of a dinosaur to recognize.”

  Tyler slid his thumbs into his jean’s pockets. “I guess you could say that. Uh, that I’m a celebrity. Not the dinosaur thing.”

  She arched her brow at him. “And who are you here to see?” She was clearly unimpressed by his status.

  Tyler watched Rachel lead the businessmen down a hall and out of sight. “I’m here with Scott Boyd. I’m part of the band, Cold Fusion.”

  She pressed her lips tightly together. “I see. We understand that your time is valuable, Mr. Tyler. I apologize for the wait. I will see what I can do to speed it up. In the meantime, try not to cause a riot amongst my employees.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Tyler grinned mischievously.

  The elevator chimed again and they both turned to watch a young woman emerge.

  “Ah. This must be Ms. Winston. Please excuse me for a moment, Mr. Tyler.” She left his side and approached the newcomer.

  This new girl immediately caught Tyler’s attention. She was stunningly beautiful. Tyler was used to seeing girls dressed in an overtly provocative fashion, flaunting their curves and highlighting their assets, so it was surprising that the sight of this girl, in her conservative business attire, had his blood pumping.

  Her dark wavy hair was pulled up loosely on each side of her face and clipped in the back. Her face was delicate, yet strong; her impossibly blue eyes were fringed by long, dark lashes, and her ruby red lips were full and sensuous. When she smiled at the harsh looking librarian lady, her whole face lit up.

  But besides her physical appearance, it was her demeanor that commanded attention. She looked confident and sure of herself. So sexy. Tyler couldn’t help but wonder what she would look like in his bed. Naked. Tousled hair. Limbs entwined in twisted sheets. Or better yet, entwined in his.

  If this girl had been looking up at him while he performed on stage, he would have pulled her from the crowd and anticipated fucking her all night long. His cock began to respond to his naughty thoughts, but the girl hadn’t even looked his way. Strangely, she was staring at Scott.

  Scott had been quite handsome in his day, but middle age, five years of marriage and two kids had softened him. Now he had an overhanging gut to go along with his shaved head and tattooed body.

  Tyler wanted her to notice him, to see a flare of interest spark in her eyes, for him, but she was whisked away by the librarian look-alike before he could make any move to get her attention.

  Disappointed, Tyler strolled over to the couch and sat next to Scott who looked entirely too pleased with himself.

  Scott leaned back on the couch smiling. “Looks like I’ve still got it.”

  Chapter 3

  As soon as I entered the Vibe offices, an efficient administrator whisked me away. “I’m sorry that the meeting has been delayed. I’ll set you up in one of our smaller conference rooms so that you can get some work done while you wait.”

  I had to work to keep up with her surprisingly quick stride. “That’s fine. I understand my assistant will be meeting me here?”

  She nodded as we walked along. “Yes. Mr. Black has let us know that a Mr. James will be joining you. I will send him in as soon as he arrives.”

  She waved me into a standard, but elegant, conference room. “Is there anything that you need?”

  What was I doing here? What I needed was a brain transplant. And food. “If you have anything to eat, that would be great. I missed my lunch. And coffee. Black. And I could use some notepads and pens.”

  “Yes, Ms. Winston. I’ll get that to you right away.” She turned and left.

  I sat in the room empty-handed. Without my briefcase, I was lost. I dug through my purse. No paper. No pens.

  I put my purse aside and picked up my phone. I should have asked Hugo who this popular rock band was. I had been expecting it to be some teenybopper heartthrobs, but one eyeful of the sad middle-aged rock star in the lobby had me worried. It was worse than I thought.

  When Hugo didn’t answer his phone, I texted him. How ridiculous was it that I was heading into this meeting without even knowing a thing about this rock group? If Hugo texted me back at least I could scour the internet and find out a bit more about my rock band. I groaned. Maybe I didn’t want to know.

  Less than five minutes later, a woman entered the room wheeling a cart. “Ms. Winston? Here are the items you requested.”

  I practically salivated as she unloaded a platter of cut up fruit, another platter with an assortment of sandwiches, a cup of coffee, a bottle of water, and an assortment of notepads and pens.

  “Thank you.” I dove into the mini sandwiches before the girl had wheeled the empty cart out of the conference room. Maybe the prospects for this project wouldn’t seem so dismal on a full stomach.

  I pulled a notepad in front of me and picked up a pen. I loved organizing my thoughts into lists. It always helped me to focus, but this time I stared at the blank page while worries swirled around in my head. I was about to meet with high-level executives, including the president of a successful TV station and I was so woefully unprepared. This was a disaster in the making. And worst of all, my career depended on it succeeding.

  I threw down my pen in disgust and began attacking the spread of food with earnest. My mouth was stuffed full of turkey sandwich when I sensed a presence in the doorway. I looked at the man watching me from the hall and swallowed hastily.

  I waved him into the room while I took a sip of coffee to wash down the mouthful. “It’s about time you got here. You must be my assistant. I was beginning to think you’d bailed on me.”

  He sauntered into the room and flashed me a devastating smile. “I’ll give you assistance if you share your food.”

  My God. He was handsome. Turn your insides to jelly handsome. And cocky. In fact, he looked like trouble with a capital T. But Hugo had said that he’d shown great promise and I trusted Hugo’s judgment implicitly.

  What was up with th
e jeans, the five o’clock shadow and the messy hair? Not that it didn’t have my pulse racing, but it wasn’t exactly professional. “Did Hugo spring this reality show project on you last minute, too?”

  Michael James shrugged. “I just found out about it an hour ago.”

  “Me too! So typical of Hugo to put us in this awkward position.” I gestured to the food. “They sent in enough food for five people, so help yourself.”

  “Thanks.” He loaded up a plate and sat next to me.

  I had a better chance to look him over while he was eating. Damn. He was wearing a loose zip-up jacket, but even that couldn’t hide the fact that he had an athletic body. Trim and muscular. I could barely look him in the eye for fear of embarrassing myself. He was frightfully handsome and my stomach was going all squishy inside.

  Get a grip, Katie. I was his boss and I needed to establish my authority and create a strong working relationship right away. I had to ignore the x-rated fantasies that were popping into my head, the crazy images of ripping off his clothes and climbing all over his naked body. I shivered slightly.

  Michael didn’t seem to notice my flushed face as he polished off two turkey sandwiches in record time. He took a sip from the water bottle and then turned to me. I felt a tingling of sexual awareness as he stared at my chest. I knew my shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a peek of my cleavage.

  My skin burned with desire as he ogled my cleavage. It wasn’t the first time a man had stared at my chest, Hugo did so practically every time I saw him, but this time my breath hitched as I felt a warm heat gathering between my legs. My response to him was electric. There was no way he couldn’t feel it. It was palpable in the air. I started leaning forward, unconsciously drawn towards him.

  “So … Kaitlyn.” His eyes slid up to my face. “What do you think of this project?”

  I blinked as realization flooded through me. He wasn’t looking at my cleavage. He was reading my name off the temporary badge. Disappointment coursed through me as my face started to flame. What the hell was wrong with me?