Rock Her (Rocked, #1)

by Liz Thomas

  Rock Her

  By Liz Thomas

  Copyright 2012. All rights reserved.

  Other Books by Liz Thomas

  Saving Cassilia (Available Now)

  Vampire’s Graveyard (Available Now)

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  Note from the author:

  This is meant to be an enjoyable light read. To make this book a little different I placed different songs in the story. Each song will have the name of the song and the artist it is by. It will be italicized. This should bring out the emotion of the story even more. You can see the list of songs and listen to them here: http://lizthomasauthor.blogspot.com/2012/12/rock-her-music-playlist.html

  Thanks to all the beta readers who persuaded me to keep and expand the Marine part of Kip’s life. It really did give him more depth as a person and made the story much more exciting. Thanks!

  Chapter One

  As the music faded and the drummer banged out the last beats of the song, the lights died. And Kip Jones spread his arms before the crowd and listened to them roar. He was loved, and he loved it. The last beat pounded and the lights went out. Kip ducked as the pyrotechnics blasted over his head and out over the cheering crowd. He always flinched when those blasts sounded off, bringing back horrible memories of Afghanistan, but it was only a flinch. The roar of the fans always protected him from any deeper emotions. He walked off of the stage slowly, taking in the applause for another great show. His last of this tour. He was going to miss it.

  He was thrown a towel by a back stage hand and he wiped his face. When he dropped the towel Annie Beecher was standing before him. He stopped abruptly before walking in to her. Well now, he thought to himself, look at those legs go all the way up to heaven.

  Kip grabbed a bottled water from a stage hand that happened to be walking by and looked the green eyed beauty up and down. He was high from the adrenaline of being on stage, and he left his manners behind somewhere between the first and second song.

  She wore a tight fitting skirt and an even tighter top. Her cleavage was screaming to be released, but she kept it under expert control. Kip figured she was about five foot eight, but she was wearing ridiculously high heels, so her actual height was anyone’s guess. Her bright red lips formed into a smile and she threw her hand out to him. And they are worth the climb, he finished his thought.

  “Mr. Jones,” she said loudly to be heard over the still excited crowd chanting ‘encore! encore!’, “My name is Annie Beecher. We spoke on the phone last week.”

  “Ah, Annie, yes! I have been so looking forward to meeting you!” Kip replied as loudly and looking her up and down again, obviously sizing her up for one of his oversized t-shirts that he hoped she’d be wearing in his hotel room in the morning. He took her hand and shook it.

  Annie noticed the eye fuck and let her smile waver just a bit. She pulled her hand from his. “I can’t wait to get started on the biography!” She yelled at him.

  Kip smiled wider, showing his perfect teeth. “I can’t wait to work with you, too, Annie, but as you can hear, it’s going to have to wait just a bit longer before we can start.” He threw his thumb over his shoulder back toward the crowd stopping in the stadium. “It seems I am not yet done tonight!” And if all goes right, he thought, neither of us will be done until morning.

  Annie smiled and nodded and swung her arm wide toward the stage as if to say, get to it then. “Hold this, will you?” Kip tossed her his wet towel and turned back to the stage. “Be right back.” He bounded out onto the flashing stage and grabbed his microphone. The audience went ear splittingly wild. He looked back towards where Annie was standing but she was gone.

  Afterward Kip met her in his hotel room. He was already there and coming out of the shower. Annie was shown in by one of his posse and the door was closed behind her. She watched Kip as he walked from the shower and saw his tattoos all over his arms and back. On his chest he had ink that looked like bullet holes. His back was covered with a large cross lined with barbwire and his left arm had a Marine Corps Semper Fi tattoo. His right arm was a full sleeve of beautiful women and serpents coiled together in a way that suggested a very interesting act of bestiality.

  When Kip saw her staring at his tattoos he quickly grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he shook his shoulder length hair and flung warm water throughout the immaculate room.

  “Great Show,” Annie said.

  “Thanks,” Kip replied. “It was the last night of the tour. It was a lot of fun. Now it’s back to work.”

  “Not too soon, I hope,” Annie said.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make plenty of time for you, Annie, just as I promised.” He said.

  She gave him a sideways look.

  She’s not letting anything get by, is she? He thought.

  “For the book, of course,” he added.

  Annie looked down at her way too high shoes. “I know you wanted to meet tonight, and that is fine. But I wasn’t sure why. I figured you’d be beat after the show.”

  Kip smiled and walked over to the couch, flinging thin but well-toned body onto it. He patted the cushion next to him. “I don’t get beat, Annie,” He said.

  Annie saw then that this visit was to be more than strictly business. She realized that she knew all along that it would be but hoped to persuade him otherwise. Work on the biography could have begun just as easily tomorrow morning as it could have tonight. Now she was asking herself why she had actually agreed to come tonight. And then she asked herself why she had dressed the way she had. She walked closer to the couch but didn’t sit down.

  “Where’s the rest of the band?” she asked.

  “Oh, we scratch out enough of a living to afford our own rooms,” he said.

  Annie laughed. “I bet you do. Look, Mr. Jones…”

  “Kip,” he said. “Please. I am only thirty five. I haven’t reached ‘Mister’ status yet.”

  “Kip, then. I am very eager to get started, but…”

  “Then let’s do it. But what, Annie?” Kip asked, once again patting the couch.

  Annie sat down but on the farthest edge from him.

  “Well, Kip, I mean, I just thought we would start during normal hours, like tomorrow. You know, when we’re both fresh and can think straight,” Annie said.

  “Well, I am fresh, Annie. And if I might say, you look pretty fresh yourself,” he said half laughing. He looked at his watch. “Besides, it is tomorrow. I’ve got two thirty six am.”

  Annie smiled and looked down at her smooth legs. She realized she had turned her knees toward him, a clear come on. Why had she done that? She moved them non-chalantly in a safer direction. “Okay Kip, let’s get this out of the way now, shall we?”

  Kip raised his eyebrows at her.

  “I just came out of a very bad relationship, and all I can think of now is about not getting into another one. Besides, I have a lot of baggage. I am sure you wouldn’t want to get mixed up in any of it. And…”

  “And?” Kip said, his smile never fading.

  “And, anyway I have a rule,” Annie said.

  “A rule? Go on…”

  “I never date rockers, Kip. Never. I write about them. I don’t date them. Even ones like you that have the face and body of Adam Levine. It’s why I do such a great job. I don’t get personally involved. It makes the story pure. True. You know?”

  Kip looked at her, keeping his smile. He cocked his head to the side and sized her up again. He said nothing. Adam Levine? Damn, maybe I should cut my hair to have the full package.

  “Well?” Annie asked.

  “Okay, Ann
ie. I get it. And I apologize. I was acting like a dick anyway. I mean you look great. I am a sucker for a hot chick. I saw you tonight. I wanted you. And I acted like a dick. It’s not the first time. Probably won’t be the last time. Please forgive me.”

  Annie looked at him for a moment and then smiled. “Forgiven,” she said.

  “Good,” Kip said. “So, where shall we begin?”

  “Well, that’s really up to you,” she said. “But I like to get some initial back story to work with starting out. Like family. Where you grew up. What made you want to do what you do…Do you have any secrets? Stuff like that.”

  “Well, I have no living family,” Kip started. “My father passed away while I was in the Marine Corps. I’d really rather not talk much about that right now.” He looked down at her shoes.

  “You don’t want to talk about your father or the Marines, which one?” Annie asked.

  Kip looked back up at her and looked serious for a change. “Either one, really.”

  “Well, clearly there is a story there,” Annie said. “Are we going to talk about it at all?”

  Kip looked back at her shoes. “We’ll see.” He nodded at her feet. “Those shoes must be absolute torture.”

  “You have no idea,” Annie said. She kicked them off and they rolled on the floor. She opened her notebook and pulled a pen from the binder.

  Kip woke to Jack Treme pounding on the door. He stirred and then he pushed himself up on the couch. He looked around confused for a moment until the pounding on the door happened again. He staggered to his feet and shuffled across to the door, catching a glance of Annie bundled up on his bed in the other room. She was buried in a sea of silk and blankets. He spotted bare thigh between the waves of sheets, and decided her flesh was the silk. The sheets were only a cheap frame around the true masterpiece. And she’s wearing my T-shirt. I hate it when a plan comes together but doesn’t include me getting with the girl. Maybe I’ll get her next time, he thought.

  He ran his fingers through his hair and continued on to the door. He pulled it open and walked away, knowing it was Jack that was doing the pounding.

  “Damn Kip. Four o’clock is late in the day even for you,” Jack said as he walked in, leaving the door open behind him.

  “Stayed up all night, Jacky.”

  Jack followed him to the kitchen, where Kip was pouring himself a glass of Crown. He saw Annie stirring in the bed as he walked by the open door of the bedroom.

  “Well, that explains the late night,” Jack said as he took the bottle from Kip and pulled a mouthful from it. “Who’s the coin purse?”

  Kip took a drink from his glass. “She’s no coin purse. She’s my biographer. And we were working not bumping nasties.”

  “Biographer?” Jack said with incredulity.

  “Yes, Jacky. I’ve actually done more in my life than play bass and sing. I have a story to tell. She’s going to help me tell it.”

  “Kip, you don’t even talk to the band about your life,” Jack said before taking another pull from the Crown Royal bottle. “Now you’re going to put it all out there in a book?”

  “That’s right Jacky. You want to know more about me, read the book.”

  Jack studied Kip to see if he was being serious or yanking his chain. He decided he could not tell.

  “Well, you’ll have to give me a free signed copy when it’s done.”

  Kip tilted the glass back and drained the last of it, then reached for the bottle, taking it from Jack’s hand.

  “No Jacky. You’re going to have to pay.” He said and he filled his glass again.

  Jack gave Kip that look again, the one where he wasn’t sure if Kip was joking or not. Then Kip smiled a half smile at him before taking another drink. Jack still didn’t know what that meant. That’s what Jack loved about Kip. He was independent to a fault. He never went out of his way to let anyone inside his head. At least Jack had never seen it. Kip was loyal to a fault though, and the nicest guy Jack had ever met.

  Kip saw the confusion in Jack’s face. He relished in it. Just like his dad had always said, back before he didn’t say anything at all to Kip, ‘Always leave them guessing’. Kip was good at that.

  Jack motioned toward the bedroom with the bottle he had just taken back from Kip.

  “So, what’s wrong with her?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” Kip replied.

  “Well, I know she got here last night, so she’s been here all night and all day,” Jack said. “And you said you haven’t added her to your Kip list. So, what’s wrong with her?”

  Kip scratched his head and turned to walk back to the couch. “There is not a damn thing wrong with her. She must have a force field or something. She resisted the Kip charm.”

  “Interesting,” Jack said, following him to the couch.

  “Isn’t it though?” Kip replied.

  Jack took a seat on the leather chair next to the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Well, don’t worry, buddy. Happens to the best of us.” He smiled.

  “How would you know?” Kip said sarcastically.

  “Easy now, Kip,” Jack said. “Keep that up and I might not have your back tonight at the club.”

  “The club?” Kip asked. “Who said I was going to a club tonight, Jacky?”

  “We did, Kip,” Jack said. “Stabs and Lock and I. We decided. Come on. Let’s have an end of tour blow out. Bring your lady friend there along.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you at the club,” a voice sounded from behind Jack’s head. Kip looked up and Jack turned around in his chair. Annie stood there in Kips T-shirt with the silk sheet wrapped around her waist. Her hair was mussed, but she was still stunning. The perfect woman, Kip thought. Fresh out of bed and still a knockout.

  Jack stood and turned to her. His jaw dropped at her beauty, and the fact that her nipples were giving Kip’s T-shirt some new wear points. Then he gathered his wits. “Hey, the biographer is up and about!” he said.

  “Calm down, Jacky,” Kip said. “She doesn’t do Rockers.”

  Jack looked deflated. He glanced at Kip and back to Annie, who was heading back into the bedroom. “Hell, I’m no rocker. I just play drums. I am respectable, not like this degenerate here.” He pointed to Kip.

  Annie laughed from somewhere in the bedroom, out of sight. “You’re in a rock band. That gets you on the ‘no’ list.”

  Jack turned to Kip, who looked amused on the couch. “She has a list,” Jack whispered and he shrugged. Kip shrugged back.

  “And you’re on it, Jacky,” Kip said. “That’s something.”

  “But it’s the wrong list,” he said, smiling. “It’s the exact opposite list of the one I want to be on.”

  “Well, it gives you a starting point, right?” Kip said with a laugh.

  “Actually, no,” Annie said from the bedroom. “It’s the opposite of a starting point. He has to work backwards from the no list until he gets to zero. Then he has to work his way up the yes list. I am afraid it doesn’t look good for… who are you again?” she finished as she walked from the room, dressed but barefoot. She headed to her shoes which were exactly where she left them when she kicked them off last night.

  “Oh, Sorry,” Kip said. “Annie, this is Jack Treme. We usually keep him caged behind the drums on stage and rarely let him out and about when we’re not doing a show. His claims of being respectable are, well, way off.”

  Annie gave him a quick smile as she sat on the couch and reached for her shoes.

  “Jacky, this is Annie Beecher. She’s going to be my biographer, like I said.” Only my biographer, apparently, he thought.

  “Annie the biographer, Let me ask you something. Do you know how hard it is to get this guy to do any talking about himself?” Jack asked.

  “I’ve noticed, yes,” Annie replied, grinning.

  “So, do you have a plan?” Jack asked.

  “A plan?”

  “To get him to talk. I’ve known this g
uy for four years now, and all I really know about him is that he can sing, and make his guitar speak better than me,” Jack said.

  “Well, that doesn’t take much, Jacky,” Kip said.

  “No, I really mean it, Annie,” Jack said. “He’s a hell of a guy, really. But he doesn’t talk about himself. You’ve got your work cut out for you, I can tell you that.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out last night. I guess I am going to have to work some of my Annie charm on him,” Annie said, smiling a knowing smile at Kip.

  “You heard that?” Kip asked, embarrassed.

  Annie shrugged. “I am a good listener. It makes me good at what I do,” she said.

  “Ah,” Kip said.

  Jack looked between the two of them. Then, “Hey really, how’s about you come along with us to the Steel Rain night club tonight?” Jack said.

  Annie shook her head.

  “Aw, come on. How are you going to write Kip’s life story if you don’t follow him wherever he goes? And Kip at the club is a huge part of his life, believe me.”

  Annie was reaching for her other shoe and she paused. She looked up at Jack and then at Kip.

  “Actually, you’re right, Jack the drummer.” She said, then picked up her shoe and slipped it on her foot, wincing as she did. “But I am still afraid I have to pass for tonight. I have another appointment, I am afraid.” She looked at Kip. “Sorry, Kip. I know I should spend all of my time with you working on this book, but I could not get out of this meeting.”

  Damn, kip thought. “No problem,” he said.

  “But,” Annie continued, “My meeting is not far from the Steel Rain nightclub. Maybe when my meeting is over I can come find you there?”

  “Actually, I haven’t even…” Kip started.

  “That will do just fine, Annie. Looking forward to seeing you there,” Jack cut in.

  Kip gave Jack a sideways look.

  “Annie, I haven’t agreed to go to the club. I hadn’t planned on it,” Kip tried to finish.

  “He’ll be there,” Jack said as he slammed the half empty bottle of Crown Royal down on the coffee table and walked around to escort Annie out. “Won’t you Kip?”

  “Jacky…” Kip said.