Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2

by Mankin, Michelle

  The anesthesiologist visited briefly, followed by the surgeon. Then, before she was wheeled into surgery, my mother said a quick prayer aloud while she held one of my hands and Jewel clasped the other.

  ***

  Jewel

  “How long has it been?” Rush asked me again, his escalating tension putting me more on edge.

  “Half an hour.” I patted the seat beside me on the worn waiting-room couch. “Stop pacing. Sit.” I couldn’t touch or comfort him while he prowled the length of the twenty-by-ten-foot room.

  “All right.” He dropped down beside me. In the chair across from us, Brenda frowned as he took my hand and placed it on his thigh.

  “Any news?” Brad returned from the cafeteria, carrying a tray with steaming paper cups filled with coffee.

  “She hasn’t gone back yet.” Rush glanced at the wall monitor that reported each surgery patient’s status. “They still show her in prep. Why is she still in prep?” His muscular thigh bounced to a nervous rhythm beneath my hand.

  “They said it might take a while,” Randy said.

  “I know, it’s just . . .” Rush jumped to his feet as the surgeon entered the waiting room, and mumbled, “It’s too soon.”

  I rose with him, sensing something was wrong. Both needing comfort and wanting to offer it, I reached for Rush’s hand and squeezed.

  “McMahon family?” the doctor asked, lowering his surgical mask.

  “Yes, I’m her son. What’s wrong?” Rush’s voice was terse as he stepped forward, his fingers sliding free of mine. “Something’s wrong. Why aren’t you with her?”

  “I’m sorry.” Behind the lenses of his glasses, the surgeon’s eyes revealed his sorrow. “Her aneurysm ruptured before we could take her back. We lost her in the prep room.”

  Gasps of shock came from everyone, including me. My heart kept beating, but every beat was dulled by dread.

  “No. No. No.” Randy sagged against Brenda, his eyes wide and disbelieving. He seemed to withdraw, as if to pull his sharper emotions inside himself to prevent anyone else from getting cut, and also to privately process his pain.

  His wife didn’t say a word. Appearing stricken as well, Brenda threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck, looking after her husband for once instead of lusting after his brother.

  “If you would like to come back with me,” the surgeon said gently, “I can escort you.”

  “No.” Rush shook his head. “No, I don’t want to go back. This isn’t right. There’s been some kind of mistake.”

  My heart cracked as he struggled to comprehend what couldn’t be denied.

  Rush blinked hard, staring unseeing for a moment, then he glared at the doctor. “You were supposed to fix this!”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. McMahon.” The surgeon glanced between Rush and the rest of us, his expression weighted with regret and helpless frustration.

  I tried to reach for Rush’s hand again to lend him my strength, to give him something to hold on to, but he backed away from me.

  “I don’t believe you.” Rush’s voice was raw from strain. “I want to talk to another doctor. Get me another doctor.” He glanced around wildly, as if looking for someone—anyone—to refute the surgeon’s claim.

  “Rush.” Brad stepped forward. “Calm down. Let me help you.”

  He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, but Rush shrugged it aside.

  “I didn’t . . .” Rush’s voice cracked. “Didn’t have enough time with her.”

  “I know you didn’t.”

  “We just reconciled. I didn’t get to say a proper good-bye. This can’t be right.”

  “You got to see her. You talked to her.” Brad shook his head sadly. “But it’s terrible, I know.”

  “You don’t know anything!” Rush roughly brushed aside his friend’s second attempt to comfort him. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

  “Settle down, Rush.” Brad spoke quietly. “This is a hospital.”

  “If it’s a hospital, why didn’t they fucking fix her!” Rush shouted, his eyes wild, his movements agitated and frantic.

  “Let’s go outside—”

  “No.”

  Rush took a swing at his best friend, but Brad dodged the blow.

  Spinning from his momentum, his expression anguished, Rush kicked at a chair that was suddenly in his way. When it toppled over, he snatched it up and slammed it into the wall. It broke into jagged pieces that matched his ravaged expression.

  “Rush!” I cried out his name as tears slid down my cheeks.

  I couldn’t stand to see him like this. He was drowning in his grief, waves crashing over his head. He was going under, couldn’t breathe for the pain, and I knew how it felt.

  “Don’t, baby.” He shook his head as I moved toward him. “Stay back. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t,” I said softly, approaching him as carefully as I would a wounded animal. “Just let me hold you.”

  When I reached him, he sagged as I wrapped my arms around him.

  “Jewel.” He dropped to his knees, his legs seeming to collapse beneath his burden, and I went with him. “This is all wrong.”

  He buried his face in my chest, and I felt and heard the sob that racked his much larger frame.

  “I know. I know. I’m here. I’m right here.”

  I wouldn’t give him false platitudes, wouldn’t tell him he’d be okay, because he wouldn’t. I knew from experience that his life would never be the same. But I would help him, would do whatever it took to get him to a point where the pain was bearable.

  For now, my job was to be there for him so he wouldn’t be alone. And I was.

  As he said good-bye to his mother at the hospital.

  As we returned to the empty farmhouse.

  As preparations were made for the funeral.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  * * *

  Rush

  “Where’s your side piece?” At the small table in the kitchen, Brenda peered over her cup of coffee at me.

  “Still sleeping.” Frowning, my eyes dry after days of weeping and exhausted further by preparations for a funeral that felt all wrong, I trudged slowly toward the carafe on the counter.

  “You two were so loud last night, we could hear you on our side of the house. I imagine she must be worn out. The way you go after her, it’s disgusting. Your mom just died.” My ex watched me with the intensity of a predator, an intensity that seemed to increase as each dark day passed.

  “Loving her isn’t wrong.”

  It was none of Brenda’s business what Jewel and I did in private. Yet, was it love on Jewel’s side? She’d never returned the sentiment. My ex had unerringly found a weak spot, a concern that had been nagging at me.

  My grip tightened on the carafe handle. I knew I was probably making things worse by using sex to lessen the pain. It was less than Jewel deserved, but touching her reminded me of life rather than death. Jewel understood, and she never turned me way. But how much longer would she stay?

  “It’s comfort,” I said. “Not that you would understand that kind of thing. There’s no give with you. Just disapproval and condemnation.”

  Brenda’s bitterness was a jarring contrast to Jewel’s sweetness. I counted myself fortunate that she was my brother’s problem to deal with, and not mine.

  “Comfort you pay for. It’s your money, I guess.”

  “What?” I spun around.

  She slid her iPad across the table at me, revealing an image of a driver’s license photo with Jewel’s face.

  “What’s that all about?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

  I knew Brad had been shielding me, which made me appreciate him now more than ever. But it was only a matter of time before word got out about Jewel. Only a matter of time before she left me.

  Was it only her kindness that brought her to Indiana with me? And was it only for pity that she remained?

  “She’s a hooker, Rush.”

  “Was a hooker.”


  Brenda gave me a smug smile. “You sure about that?”

  “Morning, all.” My brother entered before I could respond, but the seed of suspicion had been planted. “The viewing’s today.”

  “Not something I’m gonna forget.” I took a seat across from Brenda and stared into my black coffee. It matched my dark thoughts.

  “You gonna have her with you?”

  “Jewel?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Of course I am.”

  My brother’s face twisted into an ugly mask. “You’re going to make our last good-byes to our mother a media circus.”

  My grip tightened on my mug. “I can’t control what they do, Randy.”

  “You can think of someone else but yourself for a change. They want pictures of you and her together. If she’s not there, it’ll be a lot easier on the rest of us.”

  I needed her there, a hell of a lot more than I needed either my brother or his wife. “Easier for you, you mean. I’m not the only one being selfish, am I?”

  “You prick.” Randy bared his teeth, and Brenda put her hand on his arm.

  “Morning.” Jewel walked into the kitchen and took in the scene. Her brow creased beneath her tangled hair. “Everything okay?”

  My fingers had pulled and twisted her auburn hair during the night. Before my world had turned upside down, I’d savored its silkiness. Been gentle with her. Been more cognizant of her needs.

  Guilt churned in my stomach, along with the coffee and my darker emotions.

  “As if you really care?” Brenda spat the accusation at Jewel. “How much is he paying you to be up with him all night?”

  Jewel took a step back, her cheeks turning pink. “I . . . he doesn’t . . .” She glanced at me, her pretty mouth turned down with hurt, and her eyes bleak.

  “The press broke the story,” I said gently.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, baby. What they do. What others think.”

  “That’s sweet. But not realistic.” Randy shook his head. “But then, that’s your manufactured world of make-believe.” He lifted his chin to Brenda, and she stood. “Think about what I said, Rush. If not for us, think about her.”

  “Think about what?” Jewel shifted nervously from foot to foot, the hem of my shirt skimming her upper thighs.

  “Nothing important. Come here.”

  I opened my arms and she stepped into them without hesitation. As soon as I had her in my grasp, my churning emotions settled.

  Unfortunately, that brief interlude of peace didn’t last.

  ***

  Jewel

  Rush was still by the window when I returned from taking a shower that evening.

  I quietly closed the door to his room and tossed my damp towel in the hamper. Either hearing me or seeing my reflection in the glass, he stretched back his arm to me. Padding quickly across the wood floor, I took his hand and he reeled me into his side.

  “What took you so long?” he asked.

  “The hot water takes a while to heat up.”

  “Not that long.” He lifted a brow. “I know this old house like the back of my hand. Know every branch on this tree. I chose a wrong one once, and when my mom caught me sneaking out, she grounded me for a month. Plus, your skin’s cold, so ’fess up.”

  “I ran into Brenda in the hall.”

  His brow furrowed. “This hasn’t been pleasant for you. I’m sorry.”

  “I can handle her. Don’t worry about me. I’m worried about you. Today was hard.”

  “Yeah.” His gaze drifted back to the front yard, and he stiffened.

  “It’s supposed to help, the viewing and talking to others about what she meant to them.”

  He didn’t speak for a long moment, and when he did, his voice was gruff. “She did so much in the community I wasn’t even aware of.”

  My voice wobbled as I said, “‘Be a woman who serves behind the scenes. The joy’s in the giving, not being recognized for it.’ My gran used to say that.”

  “You’ve suffered loss too. And I’ve neglected you.”

  He touched my hair, the first non-desperate touch in days. It gave me hope. Maybe my being here was making a difference.

  “Your mom was a special lady. I’m glad I got to meet her.”

  “I’m glad you did too. You’re giving like my mom, you know.”

  “No.” I shook my head firmly.

  “You’ve supported me, comforted me. You’re a loyal, caring friend to Cam. Why can’t you see the good I see?”

  “I’ve made too many mistakes.”

  Rush pressed his lips to my hair. “I don’t believe in scales for redemption like you seem to. Doing something bad doesn’t erase all the good things you’ve done. Most of the time, good deeds shine brighter in bad circumstances.”

  “Like the words in your song.”

  “Like you.”

  But he didn’t know. Wanting to hold on to him and his good opinion a little longer, I hadn’t told him everything.

  “My white iris. My beautiful gem. I love you, Jewel.” He turned to me and slipped his hand beneath the oversized shirt of his I was wearing. Grasping the hem, he lifted it over my head. “So pretty.”

  In front of the window, I stood nude in a patch of moonlight, and yet I didn’t feel self-conscious. How could I with him looking at me like that?

  When I placed a palm on his sandpapery cheek, he covered it with his, then moved it to his mouth. Pressing a warm kiss to the center of my palm, he made my scalp tingle. Then he sent shivers throughout my body when he touched the tip of his wet tongue to my skin.

  “Kiss me, Rush,” I said, not too proud to beg. I was always so hungry for him.

  “Not yet.” He put my dampened palm on the cool windowpane. Moving behind me, he lifted and pressed the other one there too. “Keep them there.”

  “It’s snowing,” I said, feeling like it was a sign. A Christmas gift from above.

  No one had felt like celebrating the holiday after his mother had passed. But could the flurry of white be his mom and my gran telling us to keep on living our lives with their blessing?

  I shivered as Rush nuzzled the side of my neck.

  “Are you warm enough now?” He pressed closer to me from behind, and I realized he’d removed his boxers. His cock was hard against my ass, hot and already sheathed.

  My mind blanked. Forgotten were blessings from above, sorrows, all of it. Nothing mattered but him.

  Wriggling my ass slightly, I said, “I could be warmer with you inside me.”

  “Done.” His palm glided down the length of my spine before he used both hands to spread my thighs apart.

  “Rush . . .”

  I pulled in a breath when he positioned his cock at my entrance. I was already ready, needing him as much as he needed me. As the days had passed, my desperation often matched his. I wanted to make the most of every moment, afraid of what would happen after the funeral.

  I was afraid for him. Afraid for us.

  He loved me. But what if love wasn’t enough?

  “Now,” I said. “Please.”

  “Kiss first.”

  Eagerly, I turned my head, and he captured my lips and plunged his wet tongue in my mouth, even as he drove his hard cock inside me. In and out, tongue and cock in rhythm, he made me crazy. I whimpered into his mouth, throbbed around his cock.

  He broke the seal between our mouths. “Open your eyes, baby. See how beautiful you are.”

  “I see us.”

  In the glass, we were beautiful together. He looked at me with a rapturous expression, and it stayed that way as he moved inside me.

  “You’re so perfect.” He cupped my breasts in his capable hands. “So hot.” He strummed the tightened tips with his talented fingers. “So sexy,” he said, paying homage to my body with his.

  I came undone on his next deep stroke, struggling to keep my eyes open so I could savor our reflection in the glass. I held the ima
ge in my mind of how we looked in that moment, our bodies worshiping each other, and memorized another of him coming.

  It seemed in that moment that anything was possible.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  * * *

  Rush

  I picked up my ring from the bathroom counter after my turn in the shower. Sliding it on, I turned around and Brenda was there. Right there.

  When she turned and shut the door, I got a really bad feeling. My ex and me alone, and me wearing just a towel . . . it definitely wasn’t a good thing.

  “What are you doing?” My eyes narrowed in suspicion, I tried to move past her, but she blocked my exit out of the narrow space.

  “Trying to talk some sense into you.” She came closer. Steam and my unease hung heavy in the air.

  “You’ve got nothing to say that I want to hear.”

  “What if it’s about her?” She placed her palms on my chest and stroked her thumbs through the droplets on my skin.

  A long, long time ago, her touch would have turned me on. Now it just nauseated me.

  “You’re jealous of her.” Calling it like I saw it, I pried her hands from my chest. “Does Randy know you’re in here with me? I mean, fuck, he’s just right down the hall.”

  “What does it matter? We have a history, Rush.” She glanced up at me through lowered lashes, but her eyes didn’t seem sexy to me anymore. Just calculating.

  My stomach churned.

  “Step aside, Brenda, or I’ll move you aside.”

  “Don’t be like that. You’re making a mistake with her. She’s a prostitute. She’s been with lots and lots of men, hundreds maybe. I can’t even imagine it. Can you?”

  The churn in my stomach increased at the thought of Jewel with anyone else. Ignoring it, I shook my head.

  “Do you really think she’s into you?” Brenda flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve heard you throwing the words at her, but she doesn’t say them back. Is that your arrangement?”

  “What do you know about it?” My entire body tightened, my arms at my sides stiffening and my fingers curling into fists.