by Selena Kitt
The server quickly left.
“Couldn’t keep your hands off the client, huh? Knew you weren’t a sure thing. I knew this was all a waste, putting you in charge of the team.”
“Look,” I said, “I can explain.” I immediately cringed that it sounded as lame as it did in my stupid head or the movies.
“Explain what exactly, Alexa?” Her cordial voice was unnerving. “You’re simply working, right? With your brother?”
“What!” I said with a sneer of suspicion and disbelief. I looked from a clearly naked-under-that-towel Danny to my own scratched body in an equally salacious wrap that screamed, “I just got fucked and fucked good.”
She walked around the room, looking everywhere with her nose held high like she was considering buying the damn place. She stopped by the cart, lifted a silver lid, and snatched a French fry off our tray. She ate it nonchalantly like it was hers. Get your manicured mitts off my food! “I mean, you are just working, aren’t you? That’s all I see here. That’s all I’ll say I saw, as long as you point Nina in my direction. I don’t really care what you do or who you screw, and I have honestly enjoyed watching your wheels spin and seeing how your mind works, so I’d hate to lose your skillset on my teams. And that’s what I want from here on out … to rule it all, every great opportunity that should legitimately be mine because of experience. I’ve worked my butt off to get where I am, kissing that bitch’s ass, and you just swoop in off your freelance job and score the hottest client our company’s ever had? Yeah, I don’t think so. That kind of shit is gonna stop, starting today. Do we have an understanding? I think my condition is quite generous and beneficial to us all, don’t you?”
“No.” I growled. “You are blackmailing me!”
“You call it blackmail. I call it self-preservation and insurance for my success. Do we have a deal? I could just go rat you out right now, but I’d rather not. Like I said, I like your ideas.”
“Sure. Ideas you can claim as your own.” I shrugged.
“Perhaps. Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?”
“Sure. Whatever. What’s one more crap thing over my head?”
“You don’t have to take this shit, Lex.” Danny said. “It’s ridiculous.”
“It is, but I’d rather put up with this than get fired. I like my job and the people I work with, even you Raquel. This is against company policy, Danny, which we both knew, full well, before our clothes came off. Considering the alternative, it’s not really that bad.”
“I’m so glad you agree.” Raquel quirked her mouth like she was gonna hug me for choosing so wisely and making her day. After downing another fry, she brushed salt off her hands with a grunt. “I just came by to say you kicked ass in that concert, Danny. I thought you guys wrote nothing but trash, but it’s not all bad. You convinced me to buy your albums.” She waved and sang a wavy, “Good night, lovers. You can get back to your … celebration or victory party or family reunion or whatever you want to call this.”
“Whatever,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”
“You will. And I look forward to it.”
Yeah, ’cause she now has me by the throat.
As Raquel opened the door with giddy laughter, I screamed, spotting the crazy chick with the gun in the doorway before she did. As she turned her head to see what was so scary, a gunshot rang out, making me squeal and Raquel bleed from her stomach. My co-worker clutched her abdomen and folded in half to the ground, screaming her head off and sobbing. Blood drenched both hands, and she looked at them in shock. Her respiration turned spastic, her upper body heaving like an ocean buoy in a hurricane.
“He’s mine. He’s mine, you bitch.” The shooter looked at me and pointed the gun. Her eyes, moving from me to Raquel, went wide with rage when she realized her mistake. Through a clenched jaw, she growled, “You! That was meant for you. I hate you.”
The server had returned with strawberries just then and bashed her in the head from behind with the silver bowl in his hands. Red berries went bopping around on the carpet.
Danny rushed the psycho, tackling her to the floor just outside the door, and wrestled the gun out of her hand. She yelled and fought him. She was really strong and limber.
“I am not yours.”
With her down and pinned, I dashed to the bathroom, snatched a towel, and brought it to Raquel. I compressed her wound, and she was bawling her eyes out and moaning in pain. I stroked her hair and tried not to sob as I called 9-1-1. “Shh. Hold that down. It’ll be okay, Raquel. You’ll be okay. Hang on.” I quickly dressed as I spoke with the operator. “I called the cops and an ambulance. They’re on their way. Hang on.” Crouching to help her compress her wound again, I saw that bitch in the hall whip a knife out of her pocket. “Danny!” I shrilled because he had no clue, as he was too busy holding her down with his weight.
Since she’d been struggling against him, he tried to flip her over, but she was able to free her leg and knee him in the groin.
He sat up astride her, yowling in agony.
“A knife. She’s got a knife!” I yelled.
“No one can have you! You are mine.” Seething, she drew her hand back to spear him in the lower back. I rushed over to stop her, but the server quickly snatched the gun from Danny, who was still in evident agony, and shot the bitch in the forehead.
I bellowed and staggered back and coughed, almost puking, as blood, flesh and brain matter flew everywhere. “Oh my god.”
With blood seeping onto the carpet, Danny had to work off a heave as well, his hand curled over his mouth. He was still staggering in pain.
The server, looking down in shock and horror, hyperventilated and broke down sobs. He crumpled to the floor, his hand shaking, the gun falling from his limp fingers.
“Danny! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine.”
I clutched his arm, and he stumbled up to his feet. He lumbered over to the bathroom and got some water for Raquel because she said she was thirsty. He bent down with me to let her sip from the cup, and I compressed her wound with the towel. She thanked us both.
“Who was that bitch?” Raquel cried. “Oh my god. What a freak!”
I shrugged. “We don’t know. Some stalker that’s been obsessed with Danny for months. Stay with me, okay. Are you doing all right?”
“Uh, think so. It hurts, and I feel weak. But … I think I’m okay.” She was much stronger than I would’ve been with a freaking bullet wound in the gut.
I washed up in the sink, but Danny took another shower to get that psycho’s blood off of his skin as the server called the manager.
When Danny came out, his skin looked red and raw from how hard he must’ve scrubbed his body. He was shaken and an emotional mess. “I love you, Alexa, and I’m never letting you go.”
“Love you too.”
We embraced each other and exchanged soft kisses.
“I’m glad it’s finally over,” he said. “I’m glad that psycho is dead and that she can’t hurt you. I’d die if I lost you, Lex. I love you so damn much.”
I just held onto him, shivering at what a close call that was. I’m shorter than Raquel, so if that had been me, the shot could’ve been fatal. Life was too short to waste on shit and games.
Cops and paramedics came, as well as a medical examiner, and Raquel was looking pale and weak, but she was still awake and talking coherently about the incident when they wheeled her out. I was so worried shock would set in or that she’d lose consciousness, but she was hanging in there.
Danny, the hotel server, and I were tied up for hours, answering questions with authorities as they investigated the scene.
The room service hero was not arrested for the fatal shot, which I feared he might be.
Right there, police ID’d Danny’s stalker as Gracelyn Hutchinson, the daughter of an IT tech multi-millionaire.
Nina put two and two together, but not even caring about my turmoil for one second, she fired me on the spot, as soon as she spotted m
e in the lobby.
So, lucky me, after all that, I had no job at Momentum.
But the one thing I did have, still, and hopefully for life, which gave me great comfort and a well-spring of hope for the future, was Danny Zane. And that was all thanks to a quick-acting hotel server and my weird, messy lust that had somehow, someway turned into love.
For new release info, sign up for Daizie’s Delicious Dirt.
* * *
If you liked the beginning of Danny and Alexa’s steamy romance, look for their follow-up novel, Kinky Steps, as they take their sexy times to an edgier level and face new challenges in bringing their relationship into the light.
* * *
Want a more in-depth look at life in the kink?
Check out Sorority Saint: Domination & Dance Collide by Daizie Draper.
When Jason, a brash and cocky jazz musician and house Dom, comes to the aid of a shy, conservative dancer who is mugged outside the club where he works, he offers to scratch her curious itch and teach her about BDSM in exchange for her dancing in his music video. But the heat their opposite proclivities stir up is too scorching hot for them to ignore, but indulging in passion just might destroy them both.
About the Author
*** USA Today Bestselling Author ***
Daizie Draper is a happily married sex fiend, who loves to write naughty stories that mix the sweetness of chocolate with the bite of leather. She likes sensuality, kink, fruit, impressionistic art, spanking and beauty. She hates big bugs, freedom crushers, injustice, artificial orange and onions. Along with 27 other people in the world, she has never read Fifty Shades of Grey.
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ROCKSTAR Rough by Minx Hardbringer
1
Josie
It’s the first day of my new job and I’m running twenty minutes early. I’m so nervous about my first real job in the industry that I got up three hours early, and even though I spent a ton of time doing my hair and makeup, I’m still running way ahead of schedule. In this business, appearances are everything, and I don’t want to come off as too much of a square on my first day.
Both of my parents are in the music business, and I’ve seen what can happen to assistants who rock stars perceive as nerds. It would be like sharks smelling blood in the water, and this entire tour would be a living hell. My squirming and discomfort would become a constant source of hilarious entertainment for every member of the band and crew with even a hint of a mean streak.
Nope.
That’s not going to happen to Josie Harvard. I’ve been working with bands since I could walk, and I just graduated with a degree in music management. My dad is a pretty big deal in the industry and he promised me a job right out of high school, but I turned him down. I wanted to go to college, and I wanted to get my first job on my own merit. Well, as much as I could. Everybody knows who my father is, and my mom has been a favorite songwriter of many pop and rock groups since before I was born. My family name may open doors for me, but I don’t want it to carry me through my career.
What I need to do is keep things together for the Troubled Kids, but make it look effortless and fun. I have to be a mom, confidant, and shit kicker all in one, but it has to look like I’m just one of the guys at all times.
So, rather than humiliate myself, I park my car down the street at a taco place and wait for fifteen minutes out of sight. I may or may not have scarfed down two breakfast tacos too. I’m probably running so early because I forgot to eat breakfast.
The moment of truth finally arrives, and I climb the steps onto one of the nicest tour buses I’ve ever been on in my life. The record company has spared no expense for these guys, and I realize I’ve been hired to tour with the label’s it rock band. They’re moderately famous right now, but I can tell by this bus that the label is planning to launch them into the fame stratosphere with this tour. People put in years with the record company before they have a chance to work with bands this big, and I landed it on my first job?
Dad.
I’ll have to remember to have a talk with him when the tour is over. I knew the Troubled Kids were big, but they aren’t really in one of the genres of music I listen to often. I hadn’t fully grasped the level of prestige they held, and this tour is probably an essential part of their career trajectory.
I don’t feel any pressure, though.
That was complete sarcasm. I have to keep it together because I can’t let these guys see me sweat. If Dad helped me get this job, he must think I can handle it. So, I’m going to make him proud.
“Hi everybody, I’m Josie.” I say and every head on the bus whips around to look at me.
Crap. That was smooth. I could always quit the music business and go back to school for nursing or something. As the eyes of the band and crew take me apart piece by piece, I can feel my knees starting to shake. Fortunately, I have a savior in the crowd.
“Hi, Josie. I’m Andy. Good to have you aboard.” He says and crosses the bus to shake my hand.
Andy is the bassist for the Troubled Kids, and he is a childhood friend of lead singer and bad boy extraordinaire, Zach Verona, who I don’t see anywhere on the bus. He’s also my savior and new best friend, whether he knows it yet or not.
“You want a drink?” Andy asks me with a smile.
“At eight a.m.?” I look at him skeptically. I mean I understand that rock stars love to party, but still.
“I meant a soda. You’re funny, and besides, I don’t drink. So, I won’t be offering you any adult beverages any time soon.” He says and winks at me.
And, now I feel like an asshole. I know that Andy had been in rehab last year for a drinking problem, but I let it slip my mind because I’m nervous. If I’m going to make this gig work, I’ve got to focus.
“Sure, I’ll take a Diet Coke.” I answer with a smile.
“I’ll take one too while you’re in the kitchen.” Andy says to me and winks again.
“Right. I’m the assistant. I’ll be right back.” I say, but I punch him in the arm playfully on my way past.
“Ow, what was that for?” He says and feigns both physical and emotional pain.
“For being a jerk on my first day. I’ll get your soda, but you’re going to be nice about it. You got it?” I say and smile impishly at him.
“Yes Ma’am.” He says and salutes me.
I get the sodas, and take a deep breath when I’m out of sight. This introduction meeting could be going better, but at least I’ve made a friend. We’re scheduled to leave in a few minutes, and Zach still hasn’t graced us with his presence yet. I’m giving him five more minutes to get on the bus, and then I’m going to have to hunt him down.
I take Andy his drink and the rest of the band introduces themselves to me. Stephen Blessing is the lead guitarist, and the most unique looking of the group. He’s tall, lanky and keeps his long hair tied up in a bun on top of his head. It’s dyed lavender right now, although I’ve seen press pictures with it just about every color in the rainbow. Stephen has so many piercings I don’t know how he makes it through security to get on an airplane, but I guess I’ll find out on the international leg of this tour. He’s also very quiet and shy.
Marco Jonsson is the drummer, and he’s pretty quiet too. He’s very polite and takes the time to introduce himself to me, but that’s about it. Marco is half Puerto Rican, and his big arms are on display thanks to the tight black t-shirt he’s wearing. Drumming must be a great workout.
Then there’s Zach. He arrives just as I’m about to get out my cell and start trying to find him. One look at him, and I know I’m in trouble. The way he carries himself screams big swinging alpha male, and he’s gorge
ous. He’s exactly the kind of man I know better than to swoon over, but my heart still thunders in my chest the moment I lay eyes on him. His dark, tousled hair and sexy stubble make the butterflies in my stomach dance to the rhythm of my pounding heart.
Pull your shit together, Josie.
Zach breezes onto the bus as if he’s not late, but he freezes when he sees me. It’s just for a moment, but I catch it. Then, he looks me up and down like a piece of meat at the market.
“You must be Josie, my new assistant.” He says and brushes his lips across my knuckles after taking my hand.
