Rock Star Romance: Dan (Contemporary New Adult Rockstar Bad Boy Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 4)

by Jade Allen

  That wasn’t fake? Elizabeth thought blankly. It set a handful of butterflies flapping around her abdomen, then she scolded herself: This is a client, and a cowboy. Neither of those are good for dating.

  He seems more like an actor than a cowboy, a small voice in her said shyly. Rodeo cowboys are mostly tricks and charm.

  He’s still a client, she told herself firmly. Now focus on the task at hand.

  She started the car again and was making a three point turn when she noticed a brown box in the middle of the road, and the black sedan speeding away. Her heart stopped beating, and her mind raced with the possibilities: was someone trying to get something to her? Was she meant to run it over and damage her car? Was it simply something to slow her down—or worse, keep them there while someone picked them off with their weapon of choice?

  Drive! Kick them out, peel off and never look back!

  But she couldn’t. There was only one thing to do.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and put the car in park. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she unclipped her seat belt. Chase’s eyes grew wide with fear; he looked between the box and Elizabeth, and started to shake his head.

  “Wait…that black sedan probably left that box. Elizabeth, don’t—“

  But she was already out of the car by the time he ended his sentence. She took a nervous look around in each direction and shuffled over to the box, making sure not to cross in front of her headlights and block her best source of illumination. I wish I still carried a gun, she thought. Then again, it would not have been as useful at finding out what was inside as her hands and eyes would prove to be. She took another deep, shaking breath, bent over, and picked up the box. When it didn’t explode, she carried it over to the hood of her car and plopped it on the body of her Honda before opening the flaps.

  It was a plain white case file with inch high red lettering on the front: FOR ELIZABETH. She took the file in her trembling hands, noting how incredibly light it was. She opened the file to find a single sheet of a paper covering a glossy black and white print photo taken from outside a window. The camera was trained on a spot a pair of open drapes, where a woman in a large red sweater was standing without pants, holding a bottle of Jack Daniels. After a moment, Elizabeth recognized the sweater and the thick legs as her own, and the photo was from two days before. They’d been watching her—and worse, they had been watching her since before she knew she was taking the case. What the hell? What is this? A warning? A threat?

  Her mind was churning through the possibilities so fast she was beginning to feel sick. Elizabeth sprinted back to the driver’s seat and got into the car, handing the file off to Chase without thinking. He looked at the file with faint confusion, which quickly morphed into fear.

  “They’re watching you, too,” he whispered.

  Elizabeth nodded. “I think we should go get that footage now.”

  ****

  They were waiting for more than an hour at Chase’s house before Elizabeth suggested something might be wrong.

  “They didn’t say a time,” Chase kept insisting. He was sitting close to her on his red couch, and their thighs kept brushing against each other. The worry written on his face was getting harder to ignore, and it was starting to weigh on Elizabeth, too. She was as embroiled in this as he was, now—they’d been watching her every move, so who was to say they weren’t simply waiting to make a move when they were all in the same place?

  “Because that would be stupid,” Ella said absentmindedly as she paced the floor of the kitchen, her wiry body buzzing with energy. Then she stopped in her tracks and turned to Elizabeth. “Wouldn’t it?”

  “Not at all,” Elizabeth said gruffly, imagining all the ways they could sneak up on them while they were sitting there in his home. “Old guys like to do it that way, especially, in my experience. Taking everyone out at once is so much easier.”

  Both Chase and Ella groaned and put their faces in their hands.

  They’re not dead yet, Elizabeth. She sighed. “But I’m sure these things take time. Let’s give it a few more minutes.”

  “I’m taking a nap,” Ella announced, stomping from the room and slamming a door somewhere further in the house.

  Elizabeth turned to Chase in disbelief. “She can sleep at a time like this?”

  He shrugged. “Different strokes for different folks.”

  They sat in silence for a while, and Elizabeth finally got up the nerve to ask something that had been on her mind for a while.

  “So…you think I’m a good lawyer?”

  Chase turned to her and grinned. “A great one. People notice you, and I don’t think you notice them noticing you yet.” His grinned softened into a more serious expression. “But I do. And the funny thing is, you never noticed me noticing you.”

  Elizabeth bristled. “What do you mean?”

  Chase hesitated, then turned his body toward her on the couch. “Well…we went to law school together.”

  His sentence was followed by ten seconds of silence; Elizabeth assumed he was joking. When he didn’t laugh, she gasped.

  “Your name was Charles,” she recalled. “We never spoke…I stopped seeing you around after a while, though. What happened?”

  His laugh was a long, hearty one, and by the time he was done, his eyes had teared up a bit. “Obviously, I found out I wasn’t the best at law abiding. Or studying, or taking tests…” he chuckled after he trailed off. “You were always better at that stuff than me. Everyone was. So I changed my name and became a rodeo cowboy, because gymnastics have to come in handy somehow.” He stared at his hands, off in some far-away memory.

  She laughed at his joke, but his tone was so sad that her heart broke despite his gentle smile. She touched his shoulder, bringing his attention back to her for a moment.

  “Hey,” she said. “Law school is for kids too stubborn to realize you can’t do anything with a philosophy degree. You’re doing fine; you made the right choice.”

  “Did I?” Chase asked bitterly. “I’m thirty, I’m single, and I’m throwing wild hints toward a woman I’m very interested in, but she’s not picking them up. And why? Because she’s probably gonna get whacked, and it’s all my fault!” His eyes were swimming with tears again; he pressed his hands over them and took a deep breath.

  Elizabeth was startled by his shouting, but even more disturbed by his tears. This is my fault, she thought desperately. How can I fix this?

  How do you want to fix this? Asked a sly voice in her head.

  Elizabeth pulled Chase’s hands from his eyes and held them between hers, and he stopped crying immediately. She leaned forward and kissed the tears from his cheeks, and he sat completely still, as though he were afraid to scare her away. Then she leaned back and gazed into his eyes, trying to decide if the sparkle in his eye still meant what it meant before.

  Suddenly, he was kissing her, pushing his hands underneath her silk shirt to feel the curve of her lower back as she pressed her body against him. It had been years since she let herself want anyone so badly, and maybe now—on what may be the final night of her natural life—was the time to act on foolish desires. She had his t-shirt over his head faster than he could get her bra off, and their bodies were in a tangle for a moment while they fought to strip the clothes away.

  Elizabeth finally tugged her panties and skirt over her wide hips, and relished the look of astonishment in Chase’s eyes as his electric green gaze took in her grapefruit-size breasts, full and tear-drop shaped, above the gentle curve of her soft waist. She did a slow turn for him, and he let out a low whistle of appreciation at the sight of the curve of her plump ass. She felt his large hands reach forward to cup her heavy cheeks, and she squealed and stepped backward—right into his erection. She felt his rigid staff slip between her thighs momentarily and shivered.

  “Cold?” he whispered, pressing his lips to her ear and slipping one hand in front of her to cup and knead her breast.

  “No,” Elizabeth moaned, unable to fi
nd anything else to say. Her pussy was soaking wet, and she caught sight of him in the mirror hanging above the couch—his eyes crackling with the energy of desire, his lips parted and moist as he watched her writhe in pleasure under the manipulation of his skillful fingers. One hand slipped between her thighs to play with swollen button of her clit, and she cried out and leaned her weight against the strength of his broad chest.

  “Lizzie, I want you so bad,” he breathed desperately in her ear, tightening his grip on her breast as he made slower, firmer strokes with his fingers on her clit. Her body was alive with pleasure, and her hips were moving automatically with the motion of his hand. Eventually, his breath grew too ragged, and he lost his patience.

  “I need you,” Chase growled. “Please, please…let me make love to you.”

  Elizabeth shivered and turned around, breaking his hold on her breast as she did. He cupped her chin as she gazed up at him, seemingly in awe over the features of her face—her soft brown eyes, her nose, the wrinkle between her eyebrows. In that moment, she really did believe that he had been thinking of her all these years. How did I never notice you? she wondered. Her eyes drifted down the incredible definition of his body and she let her fingers drift over his stomach and back. Then she smiled, kissed him, and pushed him on the sofa so he was flat on his back.

  After she was finished taking in the glory that was Chase—sprawled out with his thick cock jutting straight up, ready for her body—she crouched over him on the couch, placing one leg on either side of his body and shivering as he took hold of her ass with both hands.

  The heat in his eyes was all-consuming; it was in every sound and motion he made, however small or subtle. He grunted as she lowered her wet pussy over his thick head, digging his nails into the meat of her ass she slid slowly down his shaft. Elizabeth moaned in happiness as she settled on him. He was so thick that he nearly stretched her past the point of comfort, but as she moved her body up and down the length of his member, the pleasure started to build.

  “Lizzie,” Chase moaned throatily, peering up at her curvy body as she bounced on his rigid cock. “You’re perfect!” He tenderly slid one big hand up her side, stopping at her breast to thumb her nipple and moaning softly in time with the rise and fall of her body. She felt every single inch of him as she moved, as if she could isolate each nerve ending being massaged by his magnificence in turn. It was dizzying, and the beauty on his face only gave her a deeper sense of unreality. To combat that, she placed her hands on his barrel chest to steady herself, and brought her hips down harder on his.

  “Oh, fuck!” Chase held onto Elizabeth’s soft waist, helping her to come down harder on him even as he gently undulated his hips against her downward stroke. Elizabeth rocked her hips against his in a forward and backward motion, and her moans increased as the head of his cock nuzzled against her velvety g-spot. “Yes, yes! Fuck me, baby, please.”

  Spurred on by his cries, Elizabeth tensed her thighs and slid up his wet shaft quickly, bringing her pussy down so hard on his cock that it knocked the breath out of her momentarily. She would have seen stars if she’d closed her eyes, but she didn’t want to miss the incredible view. Chase bit his lip and began to roughly thrust his own muscular hips upward, and the force of his strokes sent Elizabeth’s round breasts bouncing even higher and harder. She gripped her breasts, twisting her nipples as she bounced on the cowboy. Chase’s cries were nearing their peak, and his eyes were crazed with the intensity of his lust. Pleasure was crashing through her body with each quick thrust of his hips, and her toes began to curl as her pussy tightened around the thick shaft rocketing between her walls.

  She leaned over and pressed her breasts against his chest, kissing as him passionately as her lips and twirling tongue would allow. His hands were holding her ass to him as he thrust his cock wildly in and out of her pussy, pulling on her curls with one hand as he moaned deliriously into her kiss. Her body was brimming with desire and pleasure, and with one final stroke, he pierced the thin layer containing her ecstasy and sent it, roaring, through her body, so that she was trembling on top of him and screaming her pleasure even as he exploded inside her. He continued pushing himself between her legs meekly, both of them moaning and turning into to vague, blissful shapes on the couch.

  Wow, she thought. Elizabeth lifted her head to look at Chase, and found him wearing the same soft expression of wonder as she was. He moved his head forward and kissed her, holding the back of her neck so she couldn’t pull away.

  When he finally did pull back, he smiled at her—the same open, tired smile that he first gave her at the courthouse. He looked like he wanted to say something, then decided better. A distant thump signaled them to Ella’s awakening, and they looked at each other with bashful expressions.

  “We should get dressed,” Elizabeth said. She slid off of him and hurried to find her clothes, pulling them on before the discomfort crept back into her body and she was too terrified to move. She felt Chase’s gaze on her body as she dressed, and she caught him shooting her covetous glances as she put her shirt on over her bra. This is so weird, she thought. Weren’t we just in the middle of a crisis?

  As if on cue, a series of gunshots suddenly echoed through the house, shattering windows and vases in the front of the room, and punching holes in the walls and furniture. Elizabeth felt Chase tackle her and cover her body with his. They’re coming for us, she thought. They’re finally taking us down.

  The shots seemed to go on forever, echoing around the room long after the last bullets had sailed into the room. Her muscles were vibrating with fear, and her mind was racing, trying to assess her feelings to determine if she’d been hit. After a full minute, nothing seemed to ache, so she looked around the ruined living room before getting to her knees.

  “Ella?” Her voice carried through the house, but there was no response. “Ella?”

  Chase took off without a word deeper into the house, calling his agents name. The air around the house was eerily still and silent; she didn’t hear sirens yet, which meant they might still be around. Who was it that was firing? she wondered. Her body was curiously empty of feeling, so there was no fear when she moved over the broken glass to peer out the window to take in the grisly scene before her.

  Holy shit.

  There were clear tire marks in the street where a car had just peeled off. Ella was right: this was a setup. Elizabeth would have bet money that it was the black sedan, but they were long gone by now. Normally, a vehicle leaving the scene would upset her, but it turned out that things hadn’t actually gone so well for the shooters themselves. Two of them had gotten caught in the crossfire; one was lying near the curb, and the other one was trying to compress the bullet wound on his neck with his own fat hands. Elizabeth stalked over to him, and his beady eyes darted around the scene in panic, presumably looking for a weapon.

  She watched Donald Douglass gasp below her, one hand still searching for his gun in the grass. His gaze contained a look of such pure hatred that Elizabeth knew he thought he wasn’t long for this world; he wasn’t begging for help or even mercy—only trying to take her down with him.

  She spotted his gun lying ten feet out his reach, partially covered in his own blood. Bingo. Elizabeth snapped a bare branch from a low hanging tree, bent over, and used the stick to pluck the gun from its place in the soil. It looked oddly like her own gun, but that was locked in her safe at home; then she flipped over the handle and saw the serial number etched in the butt. This is my gun. They were trying to set me up…for murder.

  She returned her gaze to Donald, and saw with satisfaction that his eyes were filled with terror now. She smiled bitterly. “You know I’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”

  She crouched in front of him and cupped his fat chin with one hand. He tried to spit at her, and a bubble of blood blossomed at the corner his lips, but nothing else. He shot her another look of hatred, then the fire of contempt slowly died away. He made a noise like a sob, and seemed to be pleading with her t
o do something.

  “What is it, Donald?”

  “K-Kill…m….” he couldn’t get any further, but Elizabeth knew immediately what he meant.

  “I’m not gonna help you die, Donald,” She promised. “In fact, I’m going to do much worse.”

  ****

  EPILOGUE

  “So…Brazil?” Chase was staring at a stack of brochures and pamphlets, trying to decide which destination looked the most promising.

  “Nowhere too hot,” Elizabeth said. “Hmm…London?”

  “Too foggy,” Chase said, yawning and stretching on the bed next to her. “Can’t we decide this in the morning? I’m beat. Honestly, they had me testifying against Hare all day.”

  “At least you didn’t end up having to testify against Ella,” Elizabeth said morosely. “That was a nightmare.”

  Chase looked at his pamphlets again, preferring not to think about how his agent had tried to trade him to Hare for her own safety. “Yeah, well…I’m still tired. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

  The hope in his voice did the trick; never one for taking orders, Elizabeth seemed to respond to gentle suggestions and slightly-less-than-gentle suggestions. She was also incredibly particular about the way her house was situated: Chase had to organize his belongings every two weeks for the first three months of living with her. Now that they were six months into their unlikely relationship and the trials were finally dying down, she was afraid she was being difficult, but Chase assured her otherwise.

  “This is your house,” he reminded her constantly. “Your space. You do what you want with it, and tell me what you want me to do with mine.” His smile was breathtaking, as usual, but no less comforting though he gave this speech often. “I have no problem with that.”

  Elizabeth felt lucky—for a lot reasons; lucky that Hare’s men had botched their shooting so severely; lucky that Ella trying to double-cross them had thrown the shooters off rather than strengthen them; lucky that the man she represented turned out to be not only innocent, but sweet and passionate and full of life. He’d been by her side during the worst of it, and he’d shown no signs of leaving yet; even so, she woke often with nightmares of an empty bed, or bloodstains next to her body in the shape of a man. Whenever she woke up, he would hold her to her chest, and tell her not be ashamed of her recurring fears. She couldn’t conquer them all, and she’d done so many already.