by Kendall Ryan
I frowned, following the sound until I found a white envelope with my name scrawled on it in perfectly neat, very familiar handwriting. There was no address. Even if there were, I knew the mail carrier would never deliver a letter like that.
I picked it up, strode to the door, and swung it open just as Piper was pressing the elevator button in the hall.
“Stop,” I called out, my pulse hammering.
She spun around, her cheeks a full flush of color and her ponytail nearly hitting her in the face.
“Everything is in the letter,” she murmured, her eyes glassy with tears. “You said you didn’t want to see me, and…well, I want to respect your wishes.”
The way I hadn’t respected hers, my conscience repeated.
The elevator dinged open behind her, but I held up a hand.
“Save me the suspense since you’re here. What’s it say?” I asked, holding the envelope up.
“I…” She twisted her fingers in front of her. “I had sort of planned on you reading it. But, you know, it’s just…it’s a custody agreement I drew up. I wanted you to know that no matter what happens between us, you’ll never have to fight to see your child. What happened, what I did—that wasn’t because of you. When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t stop thinking of that day at the museum when you told me you never wanted to have children and how stuck you felt and…”
She shook her head. “It’s put much more eloquently in the letter. The fact is, I didn’t want to force you into something you didn’t want just because I was pregnant, but I know now that it should have been your choice. I’m sorry. But really, I want to respect what you want and I’m going to go. I promise.”
“Don’t you dare.” I took a few more steps into the hall and then showed her the envelope before I tore it in two.
“Jackson—” she gasped.
“I don’t want any custody agreement,” I said. “I want to have a family, and I want that with you. It was selfless, what you did. You were ready to raise this baby alone to protect me, and I…”
I shook my head, struggling to find the words. “That’s why I love you so much. You’re so brave. But you know what? You and this baby are mine, and you’re not going anywhere. Never again, you understand?”
She nodded, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “I love you, you know,” she said.
“I do know. And you should know that this is my choice. Not because you’re having my baby, but because this is what I want. A life with you and with little whoever he or she is.”
She nodded. “Then you can have it. Forever.”
“Forever,” I murmured. “I like the sound of that.”
Epilogue
Piper
“Would you hand me that stack of folders?” I asked my sweet husband.
We now shared the corner office that had once been the location of so many illicit encounters. I’d been promoted to junior executive—and not because I was fucking the boss. I’d refused for nearly two years until I was certain I’d earned the job title. But thank goodness it had been mostly a non-affair with our staff. Anyone with a set of working eyeballs could tell how perfect we were together. I was praised often and thoroughly for how well I had tamed the dragon. And not to mention, the merger we’d worked so hard on together went through without a hitch.
“Of course.” Jackson rose to his feet and set the stack of folders on the desk in front of me. But as soon as he sat back down, his eyes darted to his computer screen again.
“What are you doing?” He seemed so distracted this morning.
A glance over at Jackson’s work station revealed what I suspected all along. He was watching our daughter again.
While I was away on maternity leave, Jackson had surprised me by remodeling the office building to add a brand-new daycare facility for the office staff. Now all three of us came to work together, occasionally had lunch together, and the built-in security cameras played almost nonstop on Jackson’s computer screen. And if Mommy or Daddy had to work late, we’d bring Mae up to our office, where we’d order in dinner and let her play on the rug with the basket of toys we kept in the filing cabinet. It was a pretty sweet setup.
“She’s just waking up from a nap.” He smiled that smile of pure joy I’d come to love—the one he seemed to save just for Mae and me. I didn’t think I’d ever tire of it.
It was sweet how passionate Jackson was about keeping us all close. And for a man I was convinced didn’t want a child—well, let’s just say he’s already trying to knock me up again. It’d taken some work on his part, but he’d eventually won over my parents and Hailey. They’d accepted and welcomed him like the family he’d never had. My exacting alpha-male CEO of a husband turned into one big softie, and my misadventures with the boss ended up leading me to a lifetime of happiness.
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to my husband, John, my biggest fan, my support system, my rock, and the reason I started writing in the first place. I love you.
I would also like to thank the entire team at Waterhouse Press, particularly David, Jon, Meredith, and Scott. You guys have been incredible and I am simply in awe at your level of talent. A huge thank you to all the readers out there, I feel incredibly blessed to share my stories.
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Misadventures with a Rock Star
Available June 5, 2018
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Chapter One
Jett
Janet and Lindy tongued each other in a sloppy, openmouthed kiss. Lindy, platinum-blond with fair skin, smoothed her hand over the strap of ebony-haired Janet’s soft-pink camisole before pulling it down and freeing one of her plump, dark tits. Her nipple was a deep violet, and Lindy skimmed her fingers over its tip before giving it a pinch.
Janet let out a low moan, sucked Lindy’s bottom lip into her mouth, and released her creamy tits from the scant blue tube top she wore. They kissed each other more frantically, groaning, pinching and twisting each other’s nipples.
“That’s hot, man,” Zane said, stroking the bulge under his jeans.
Zane Michaels was the keyboardist for our band, Emerald Phoenix. I loved him like a brother, but he hadn’t matured past his teen years. I couldn’t deny the ladies looked great, but this wasn’t anything I hadn’t witnessed many times before.
Lindy was now nestled between Janet’s firm thighs, her pink tongue sliding between the folds of Janet’s purple pussy. Zane looked about to explode.
And I couldn’t have cared less.
Oh, Janet and Lindy were hot as hell. I’d had them separately and together, and they both gave killer blowjobs and let me fuck not only their pussies but their tight asses as well. Janet loved to be handcuffed to the bed, and Lindy let me spank her as hard as I liked.
Tonight, though? I wasn’t interested.
Same old, same old.
I still had my post-performance high, but I wasn’t looking for the usual orgy, despite Janet and Lindy’s show and the rest of the scantily clad groupies milling around looking for attention. A redhead was perched on the lap of Bernie Zopes, our drummer, and the backup guitarist, Tony Walker, was getting a BJ from two women who looked like they might be twins.
Nah, couldn’t be.
I’d already pushed a few hotties away after one shoved her tongue into my mouth and grabbed my crotch.
“What’s with you, man?” Zane had asked.
I hadn’t given him a response.
Truthfully, I didn’t have one. I just wasn’t in the mood. Not for this, anyway.
Zane passed me the joint he was smoking, but I waved it away. I no longer smoked. Bad for my voice. I’d already turned down his flask as well as the many drinks and drugs offered by the chicks in attendance. No booze. Not tonight. And I didn’t do anything harder
than that.
Not in the fucking mood.
One more concert, and one more drug- and booze- and groupie-filled after-party.
If anyone had told me five years ago I’d be tired of this scene, I would have laughed in his face.
Now?
Janet and Lindy finished their show and stood. Janet strode to Zane and unbuckled his belt, while Lindy walked toward me.
“Hey, Jett. You have way too many clothes on.” She cupped my crotch, my lack of erection apparent. “Not happy to see me tonight?”
“Nothing personal, sweetheart. Just not in the mood.”
“I always did love a challenge.” She nipped at my neck.
“This isn’t a challenge.”
She pulled back and glared at me with her dark-blue eyes. “Everything’s a challenge. I want you tonight, and I’m going to have you.” She snaked her tongue over my bottom lip.
Well, what the hell? Fucking Lindy was no hardship, and I didn’t have anything else pressing to do. My groin began to tighten.
But was it because of the blonde grinding on me? Or the auburn-haired, brown-eyed goddess I caught a glimpse of across the room?
Chapter Two
Heather
Several hours earlier…
“I know you love this band,” Susie said. “Come on. Please?”
Susie was my roommate and a good friend, but she was a notorious rock and roll groupie. The woman had a pube collection, for God’s sake. She’d sworn me to secrecy on that one. She hadn’t needed to bother. Who the heck would I tell? Pubic hair didn’t regularly come up in conversation. Also, keeping locks of rock stars’ gorilla salad in zippered bags made me kind of sick. I’d turned her down when she offered to show it to me.
“Sorry, Suze. Just not up for it tonight.”
“I’m so sorry Rod Hanson turned down your rewrite. But sitting around wallowing in self-pity on a Friday night won’t make it any better.”
“And going to a concert will?”
“A concert and an after-party. And watching Jett Draconis and Zane Michaels on stage is an experience every woman should have at least once.”
I did love Emerald Phoenix’s music, and yes, Jett Draconis and Zane Michaels were as gorgeous as Greek gods. But…
“Not tonight.”
She pulled me off the couch. “Not taking no for an answer. You’re going.”
Why was I here again?
I stifled a yawn. Watching a couple of women do each other while others undressed, clamoring for a minute of the band’s attention, wasn’t my idea of a good time. The two women were gorgeous, of course, with tight bodies and big boobs. The contrasts in their skin and hair color made their show even more exotic. They were interesting to watch, but they didn’t do much for me sexually. Maybe if I weren’t so exhausted. I’d pulled the morning and noon shifts, and my legs were aching.
Even so, I was glad Susie had dragged me to the concert, if only to see and hear Jett Draconis live. His deep bass-baritone was rich enough to fill an opera house but had just enough of a rasp to make him the ultimate rock vocalist. And when he slid into falsetto and then back down to bass notes? Panty-melting. No other words could describe the effect. Watching him had mesmerized me. He lived his music as he sang and played, not as if it were coming from his mouth but emanating from his entire body and soul. The man had been born to perform.
A true artist.
Which only made me feel like more of a loser.
Jett Draconis was my age, had hit the LA scene around the same time I had, and he’d made it big in no time. Me? I was still a struggling screenwriter working a dead-end job waiting tables at a local diner where B-list actors and directors hung out. Not only was I not an A-lister, I wasn’t even serving them. When I couldn’t sell a movie to second-rate producer Rod Hanson? I hadn’t yet said the words out loud, but the time had come to give up.
“What are you doing hanging out here all by yourself?”
Susie’s words knocked me out of my barrage of self-pity. For a minute anyway.
“Just bored. Can we leave soon?”
“Are you kidding me? The party’s just getting started.” She pointed to the two women on the floor. “That’s Janet and Lindy. Works every time. They always go home with someone in the band.”
“Only proves that men are pigs.”
Susie didn’t appear to be listening. Her gaze was glued on Zane, the keyboardist, whose gaze was in turn glued on the two women cavorting in the middle of the floor. She turned to me. “Let’s make out.”
I squinted at her, as if that might help my ears struggling in the loud din. I couldn’t possibly have heard her correctly. “What?”
“You and me. Kiss me.” She planted a peck right on my mouth.
I stepped away from her. “Are you kidding me?”
“It works. Look around. All the girls do it.”
“I’m not a girl. I’m a thirty-year-old woman.”
“Don’t you think I’m hot?” she asked.
“Seriously? Of course you are.” Indeed, Susie looked great with her dark hair flowing down to her ass and her form-fitting leopard-print tank and leggings. “So is Angelina Jolie, but I sure as heck don’t want to make out with her. I don’t swing that way.” Well, for Angelina Jolie I might. Or Lupita Nyong’o. But that was it.
“Neither do I—at least not long-term. But it’ll get us closer to the band.”
“Is this what you do at all the after-parties you go to?”
She giggled. “Sometimes. But only if there’s someone as hot as you to make out with. I have my standards.”
Maybe I should have been flattered. But no way was I swapping spit with my friend to get some guy’s attention. They were still just men, after all. Even the gorgeous and velvet-voiced Jett Draconis, who seemed to be watching the floor show.
Susie inched toward me again. I turned my head just in time so her lips and tongue swept across my cheek.
“Sorry, girl. If you want to make out, I’m sure there’s someone here who will take you up on your offer. Not me, though. It would be too…weird.”
She nodded. “Yeah, it would be a little odd. I mean, we live together and all. But I hate that you’re just standing here against the wall not having any fun. And I’m not ready to go home yet.”
I sighed. This was Susie’s scene, and she enjoyed it. She had come to LA for the rockers and was happy to work as a receptionist at a talent agency as long as she made enough money to keep her wardrobe in shape and made enough contacts to get into all the after-parties she wanted. That was the extent of her aspirations. She was living her dream, and she’d no doubt continue to live it until her looks gave out…which wouldn’t happen for a while with all the Botox and plastic surgery available in LA. She was a good soul, but right now her ambition was lacking.
“Tell you what,” I said. “Have fun. Do your thing. I’ll catch an Uber home.”
She frowned. “I wanted to show you a good time. I’m sorry I suggested making out. I get a little crazy at these things.”
I chuckled. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“Please stay. I’ll introduce you to some people.”
“Any producers or directors here?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Mostly the band and their agents, and of course the sound and tech guys who like to try to get it on with the groupies. I doubt any film people are here.”
“Then there isn’t anyone I need to meet, but thanks for offering.” I pulled my phone out of my clutch to check the time. It was nearing midnight, and this party was only getting started.
“Sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Susie asked.
“Afraid not.” I pulled up the Uber app and ordered a ride. “But have a great time, okay? And stay safe, please.”
“I always do.” She gave me a quick hug and then lunged toward a group of girls, most of them still dressed, thank God.
I scanned the large room. Susie and her new gaggle of friends were laughing and d
rinking cocktails. A couple girls were slobbering over the drummer’s dick. The two beautiful women putting on the sex show had abandoned the floor, and the one with dark skin was draped between the legs of Zane Michaels, who was, believe it or not, even prettier than she was. The other sat on Jett Draconis’s lap.
Zane Michaels was gorgeous, but Jett Draconis? He made his keyboardist look average in comparison. I couldn’t help staring. His hair was the color of strong coffee, and he wore it long, the walnut waves hitting below his shoulders. His eyes shone a soft hazel green. His face boasted high cheekbones and a perfectly formed nose, and those lips… The most amazing lips I’d ever seen on a man—full and flawless. I’d gawked at photos of him in magazines, not believing it was possible for a man to be quite so perfect-looking—beautiful and rugged handsome at the same time.
Not that I could see any of this at the moment, with the blonde on top of him blocking most of my view.
I looked down at my phone once more. My driver was still fifteen minutes away. Crap.
Then I looked up.
Straight into the piercing eyes of Jett Draconis.
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