A FILTHY Rock Star: a filthy line novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

  My hands slid down to the front of her jeans.

  I paused there to focus and savor the taste of her mouth.

  She could kiss, that was for sure.

  But I kept in control.

  Closing my lips hard and pulling away to make sure the sound echoed in the room. Getting things hotter - and wetter - by the second.

  I nibbled on her bottom lip and inched down, tasting her throat.

  She put her head back and let out a loud sigh.

  My fingers opened her jeans and when I saw the panties she was wearing, I grinned.

  It was fucking meant to be.

  “What did you like about it, babe?” I asked as I opened her jeans the rest of the way and inched them down her curve laced hips.

  “What?” she asked, breathless.

  I lifted my gaze and my eyes met hers.

  With my right foot, I stepped between her legs, on her jeans, and forced them down to her ankles.

  Without hesitation Liv stepped out of her jeans.

  My fingertips grazed the edges of her panties and I traced lines from her hips around to her ass and back forward all the way down to in between her legs.

  “You watched some woman suck my dick,” I said. “What did you like about it?”

  “Nothing,” she said.

  Still trying to be tough, huh, babe?

  My left hand eased up her body a little, my fingers spreading wide against her stomach. I felt her breaths fluttering. My right hand gently tugged against the side of her panties, feeling her wild heat pouring from her.

  The second my middle fingertip grazed her tender, damp petal, she jumped and grabbed my shirt.

  “You like that,” I whispered. “I can tease you until you collapse, babe.”

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  I moved my finger along her slit, feeling her throbbing to my touch. I pressed just enough to open her and moved away. She exhaled and leaned forward like she wanted to kiss me. I hooked my fingertip to her clit and flicked just once.

  Liv let out a cry and threw her head back.

  She stepped back and I let her fall down to her bed.

  She sat there, her hands clutching at the sheets.

  Looking down at herself, her panties disheveled, her deepest needs showing themselves.

  I slowly dropped to my knees before her and touched her inner thighs.

  As I spread her legs open, her eyes widened too.

  I licked my lips, giving the only hint of what I was going to do to her.

  I was tired of Line Whores dropping to their knees or bending over so I could try and get Liv out of my head. It was my time to taste her. Sample the temptation and make sure it was damn worth throwing away a deal for.

  “Nash…”

  My hands raced up her inner thighs and pressed against her core.

  Liv put her head back again, groaning as she lifted her ass off the bed.

  I moved faster, gripping the edges of those pink panties that had been driving me nuts for such a long time now.

  I tore them off her body and tossed them to the nightstand.

  She looked at me again, whimpering, realizing how fucking exposed she was to me.

  With her legs open and her panties gone, she was all mine.

  Her plump folds glistened with proof of her feelings for me. My hands rested on her hips as I moved forward, watching her body opening as though it were a flower in the morning sun.

  She was smooth and my lips kissed with force against her mound. I wasted no time in moving right down, the tip of my nose pressed against her slit, needing to devour the scent of all she craved. The sweetness attacked me in a way that made me growl under my breath. As if this innocent untouchable force could get any more perfect.

  I lifted my gaze and stared up at her as she stared down at me. Her cheeks a red rose flush color. I simply grinned as I lowered my eyes down to the pink rose hue of her folds, my tongue slithering in my mouth the same as my cock was in my jeans.

  As I helped myself to a taste, her body jolted like she had been struck by lightning.

  Nah, babe, not lightning… just the vicious tongue of a rock star…

  And that meant there was no turning back for either of us.

  She was officially ruined for the rest of her life.

  And I was officially addicted.

  I gave her the gentle warning of two calm stokes with my tongue.

  The boring shit she was probably used to from other men she considered lovers.

  Which was fine.

  I wasn’t a lover.

  I was a… fucker.

  A filthy fucker.

  I growled again and brought my hands down to her inner thighs. She trembled, fighting off the urge to jump from being ticklish.

  I turned my head a little and discovered Liv had a pretty little freckle on the left side of her sex. That’s where my tongue went, flicking and playing, knowing I was torturing her, which was only evident by the honey flowing so freely. Not to mention her hips rocking, begging for attention.

  I laughed and heard Liv gasp.

  “Nash?” she whispered in a breathless voice.

  I looked at her. Those bright blue eyes, angel eyes, willing to sing to me the road of purity and leaving excess behind.

  “What?” I growled.

  “What… why…”

  “Shut the fuck up, babe,” I said. “You’re fucking beautiful. You’re fucking perfect. You taste so delicious I feel like canceling any studio time, tours, quit the band, and live in this hotel so I could eat you until the end of time.”

  Liv bit her lip.

  I brought my tongue forward and licked bottom to top. Like a melting ice cream cone on the hottest summer day. At her clit, I swirled my tongue and she shut her eyes and whimpered.

  “Eyes open, Liv,” I said.

  Shit. Why’d I say her name? I never use names. Ever. There were never any names allowed between the sheets. Or on the sheets.

  Liv opened her eyes.

  “Don’t fucking close your eyes or I will leave,” I warned.

  She nodded.

  I kept my eyes locked to hers as I took her with my tongue.

  I wrote the words to Left Away and left her crying in a different way. Her body thrusting from the bed to my mouth. When my tongue entered her, she wiggled left to right. All these little hints of what she would be like when I finally fucked her.

  My tongue danced the rhythm to You Only Cry and that’s when Liv let go of the sheets and reached for me.

  Her nails grazed my shoulders and she touched the outsides of her legs with shaking hands.

  “Close, babe, huh?” I whispered, my breath purposely spreading across her body.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Say it louder.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Louder, babe.”

  “Yes!” she screamed. “Fuck, Nash. Don’t fucking stop.”

  The deep command in her voice told me I had swallowed down the last little bit of innocence. The sweet and pretty girl looking to head east and sit in cafes and write books was now at the mercy of everything wrong with me.

  Everything filthy…

  I moved my hands from her inner thighs and grabbed her hands. She tried to interlock her fingers to mine but I wasn’t here to fucking hold hands and talk about our feelings.

  I put her hands to my shoulders and my hands back where they belonged. My left hand slid up her soft and smooth skin, resting at her lower belly. My right hand easing up her inner thigh, my thumb gently resting against her tight slit. I massaged and her hips instantly danced.

  “Oh, fuck,” she whispered.

  She was on the edge.

  My tongue coaxed her over that edge, suckling against her clit, savoring her honey as though it was my only way to live. Fuck oxygen… I needed Liv’s pussy.

  She pulled at my shoulders, gripping to my shirt, pulling so hard, she started to rip my shirt off as she fell back to the bed. Her back
arched and the curve of her body could make any good man go insane.

  Which she was fucking doing.

  As she came, her hips drove up from the bed, then back down, then back up again. She was trying to ride my tongue, but she was trying to get away from me too. And that wasn’t going to work. I had a little trick to show her. A rock star’s secret weapon. Fuck, I was the lead singer of Filthy Line. I made a living with my mouth. And I was going to make it a night to remember for Liv with my mouth.

  Her hands pushed at my shoulders as she whispered my name.

  I put her hands back to the sheets and wrapped my arms around her legs and pulled her closer to me.

  She let out a breathless cry as I dove in for more.

  I drank her sweetness until I got my fill. Watching her body tremble as I took her to a whole new level. I paused for a moment to kiss her. My lips to her lips, a soft kiss, my mind racing with more thoughts than I cared to admit at the moment.

  I pulled away and gave her a sense of relief.

  Two seconds later…

  I turned my head again and pressed my lips against her tender nub. She gasped, realizing we weren’t done yet.

  I stayed right there, one spot, one movement, knowing there was a second wave of pleasure just begging to get released.

  “Nash,” she purred. “Nash… fuck… Nash…”

  I moved harder and faster.

  And then she exploded for a second time.

  Her body tightening and lifting from the bed. She made a quick move, grabbing for a pillow and threw it over her face as she cried out.

  I kissed her sweet and honey laced lips one more time and eased myself away.

  Liv left her legs wide open, slowly peeling the pillow off her face. She stared at the ceiling.

  I was on one knee before her beautiful body.

  I blew a kiss to her slit and licked my lips, reminding myself just how good temptation tasted.

  When I stood up, she finally looked at me.

  Her cheeks were red, white… fuck, they were blue, orange, and teal too… why not?

  Those blue eyes of hers were coming to terms with what just happened.

  I blew a kiss to her, making sure I did the same to both set of lips.

  Then I grabbed myself something to drink from the minibar and went out to the balcony to smoke a joint.

  I figured I deserved it.

  Since I just tossed my rock star career down the drain.

  * * *

  Liv came outside with a sheet wrapped around her body.

  I took a hit off the joint and offered it to her.

  “No,” she said. “I don’t need anything else to feel…”

  She shook her head.

  I grinned.

  She was high as fuck from coming. And there was nothing wrong with that. Especially if you had never felt it before.

  I turned and leaned against the railing.

  I could still taste her and smell her.

  She was all over me.

  No fucking way I was going to shower tonight and waste it.

  “You called someone over here to fuck you, babe,” I said in a low voice.

  “So what? You do the same thing.”

  “I’m a rock star.”

  “So?”

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Liv.”

  “So because I’m beautiful I can’t enjoy myself?”

  “No, babe. You deserve the best. Not some fuck boy rubbing cologne samples from a magazine on his clean shaven neck.”

  “Oh yeah? You suddenly know everything I need?”

  I moved toward her and leaned down, my lips against her ear. “Ask your pussy that question.”

  Liv elbowed me. “You’re disgusting. You can leave now. I’m finished.”

  I laughed. “Bad ass groupie now, huh?”

  “Fuck you, Nash. I am not a groupie. I am not a Line Whore.”

  “You’re right about that, babe,” I said.

  Liv looked up at me. “Oh?”

  “You’re not a Line Whore,” I said. I stroked her cheek and leaned down, pressing my lips to hers. “You’re my whore, Liv.”

  She jumped back and wiped her lips, realizing where my lips had been.

  “You never gave yourself a taste?” I asked.

  “Disgusting,” she said. “Go.”

  I grinned. Those beautiful blue eyes were still filled with lust. Not an ounce of regret showing.

  And that was maybe the most dangerous part of it all.

  She wanted more.

  And I had more to give.

  I walked back into the hotel room and spotted the pink panties that sort of started this whole thing.

  I hooked my pointer finger around them and tossed them over my shoulder.

  A little souvenir.

  Or better yet…

  The start to a new and favorite collection.

  12

  OLIVIA

  “Honey, I’m home!” I announced to my empty and stale smelling apartment.

  It was the middle of the night.

  But there was no way in hell I was staying in that hotel room a second longer. Not with Nash. And not with myself.

  The worst part was that I felt no regret at all.

  Not a drop.

  It was exactly what I wanted and what I needed.

  Owen had texted me twice. First, he wanted to know what kind of fucking game that was. And second to let me know I was a rotten bitch and deserved whatever disease I got from Nash. I didn’t respond. No need to. Poor Owen, right? An attempted booty call only to get tossed aside by the lead singer of Filthy Line. There was no defending it and no coming back from that.

  I should have felt bad.

  I should have felt regret.

  I should have felt something.

  But I didn’t.

  Even as I walked through my apartment, everything in place where I left it, I felt nothing. I dropped my bags and walked into the kitchen. The fridge was empty except for some orange juice that was expired. My lips craved a drink. Something to make my mind forget about it.

  Fucking Nash.

  My legs started to quiver, a tingling feeling that crept up my inner thighs and right to you know fucking where.

  And if the night wasn’t crazy enough, I couldn’t find my panties. I trashed the bed in the hotel room and looked under it and everything but they were gone. Which told me Nash took them. That prick of a rock star had wanted those panties from the second I mentioned them the day I walked to the limo to go on tour with the band.

  I resorted to a cold shower.

  That lasted two seconds before I screamed and turned the water to hot.

  My nipples tightened and poking out from the cold water did not help matters.

  Even with the warm to hot water hitting my body, it still wasn’t helping.

  I cupped my hands over my breasts and gritted my teeth.

  I couldn’t get control of myself.

  Nash had seen one of my boobs. Just one still. But he had seen everything else. He had tasted everything else. His tongue… that mouth… his eyes…

  I looked down at myself.

  Everything he said was probably the same sweet crap he spewed to anyone with a slit and a pulse. It was all a game for him. It was another performance. Just like on stage. When each night he’d tell the crowd that it was his favorite city.

  I was just part of that performance. The show. The concert.

  His mouth. His tongue.

  I shut the water off and got out of the shower in a hurry.

  I wrapped the towel around me and rushed to my bed.

  With the towel on the floor, I climbed into the bed naked and curled up under the covers.

  I had to forget Nash.

  Or maybe…

  Instead of just a boob here and there… and instead of his tongue here and there…

  Maybe I just needed everything from Nash just once.

  Only once though…

  * * *

  There w
as a big meeting at SLECK RECORDS and I was told to show up. It intrigued me because I was told by my father to show up. I was told by Toby to show up. And I was told by Nash to show up. I wasn’t sure if this was a good meeting or a bad meeting, but there was only one way to find out.

  I felt hungover even though I wasn’t.

  Or at least I wasn’t hungover from drinking.

  It was a different kind of hangover.

  A Nash hangover.

  Ugh.

  I showered and opted to grab breakfast on the way because I had no food in my apartment. Eve and I texted for a few minutes, just catching up on stupid stuff in life. She was texting about Jerry and I was texting about being in my own bed. Yet there was a huge part of the story I didn’t tell her.

  I arrived for the meeting and brought nothing with me.

  I wasn’t an executive. I wasn’t a record company person. I wasn’t a rock star.

  I was a writer.

  And my attention was set on going a few thousand miles in the opposite direction and finding my version of normal and happiness.

  Bad enough Nash and I had crossed the one line we were told not to cross.

  Excuse me… the one line HE was told not to cross.

  This had nothing to do with me.

  I enjoyed it.

  I enjoyed myself.

  So much so that I walked into the meeting room with a smile on my face that caught my father’s attention.

  “You must be happy to be back home, huh?” he asked. “Smiling that big.”

  “Yup,” I said. “And there was no trouble.”

  I heard Jess laugh.

  She was a bitch.

  And I was pretty sure she had a thing for my father.

  She was twenty years younger than him. Which in a sick way made her temptation for him for sure. Not that I could blame my father either. My mother was once his trophy but now he kept her hidden at home with unlimited wine and young men to do whatever with.

  Even more reason to get out of this city and this side of the country.

  “Something funny?” I asked Jess.

  “No trouble?”

  “I’m sorry, did I stutter?” I asked. “Nash isn’t in jail. The band isn’t headline news. They aren’t trending…”

  “Easy now,” my father said. “There were a few incidents.”