BANGED: Rock Stars, Bad Boys & Dirty Deeds

by Lexxie Couper

  Still holding her gaze, he drew her closer to his body, smoothing his hand down her back to cup her butt. “And I will gladly give up my career, my money, my fame, to spend the rest of my life with her, making her happier than she’s ever been.”

  Silence greeted his declaration.

  And then, tone completely ambiguous, Nick said, “Put my daughter on the phone, Jed.”

  Jed handed Chloe the phone.

  She took it, a slight frown dipping her eyebrows. “Hi, Dad. You pissed you didn’t get to walk me down the—”

  She stopped. Chewed her bottom lip. Stared at the base of Jed’s throat for a moment.

  Beside them, Josh let out another shaky sigh. Jed wanted to look at him, to see his expression, but he couldn’t pull his stare from Chloe.

  What was Nick saying?

  Whatever it was, she nodded. “I do.”

  Nick said something else. Jed could just discern the deep tones of his voice in the room’s silence.

  Chloe let out a wry snort. “I’m a Blackthorne, Dad. Did you really think I’d be normal? I’m just as ruled by my heart and my soul as you and Josh are, and I am completely and totally okay with that. I need you to be as well. I need you to trust me, trust my heart. And trust Jed.” She flicked Jed a quick look. “He’s not who you think he is, in the same way you’re not who most people think you are.”

  Nick said something. Chloe’s lips twitched. “Dad, Uncle Aslin told me all those stories about you trashing hotel rooms when you were in your twenties were just bullshit stories your agent made up. He told me you spent most nights in your hotel room when you were on tour, watching cheesy sci-fi movies on your laptop.”

  Jed bit his bottom lip to stop his surprised laugh.

  Josh, it seemed, didn’t bother, his chuckle soft but definitely filled with delight.

  Jed gave his new brother-in-law a quick glance. Josh gave him a look back that said, Whoa. Who knew?, his lips twitching like his sister’s.

  Returning his attention to Chloe, Jed studied her face. Strained to hear what Nick was saying to her.

  He couldn’t make it out. But she wasn’t angry. Or frowning. That was something, right? Maybe he was going to survive after all. Maybe.

  “I do, Dad,” she said, the words thick with an emotion that stirred something deep in Jed’s gut. “I really do. As much as you love Mum.”

  A beat of silence followed, and then she burst out laughing. “Grounded, Dad? Really?”

  He said something else, something that made her smile wider. “Yeah, yeah, Dad. Whatever.”

  She caught her bottom lip again at his unheard response, and then let out a low sigh, nodding. “I know, Dad. I love you, too. And Mum. More than you’ll ever know.”

  And with that, she tossed the phone to Josh. “Bugger off, big brother,” she said, snaking her hands up Jed’s back even as she grinned at Josh. “Dad said you can go now.”

  Josh caught his phone with one hand, shoved it back into his pocket, and cocked an eyebrow. “Did he now?”

  Chloe nodded. “He did. But he told me to tell you, Jed, that if you do anything to hurt me, he won’t just destroy your career, he’ll make sure no one ever hears from you again. Or knows where to look for the body.”

  Jed blinked. Chloe grinned. “He’s all bluff. Aslin Rhodes, his old bodyguard, would hide your body, so that’s at least one person who’d know, right?”

  “Oh, well,” Jed pulled a contemplative face, “that’s something, I guess.”

  She giggled. And then wriggled out of his arms. “Oh, oh, wait, Josh. Before you go, take a piccie of this.”

  She turned her back to her brother and gently removed the bandage covering the tattoo of the guitar/cello.

  “Jesus, sis,” Josh groaned. “Now Dad is going to kill you.”

  Chloe grinned up at Jed. “No, he won’t. He knows exactly what it’s like to be in love.”

  Josh snorted, withdrew his phone, snapped a shot, and then shook his head.

  “Make sure you tell him Jed and I got matching ones when you send it to him.”

  “You are asking for trouble, Chloe,” Josh chuckled.

  Chloe closed the minute distance between her and Jed, slid her arms around his waist, and snuggled against his body. “No, now I’m asking to be defiled by my husband.”

  “And on that note,” Josh spun on his heel, and crossed the suite to the door, “I’m out of here. See you at dinner next Sunday night. At Mum and Dad’s place. It’s your turn to cook, remember.”

  “Tinned spaghetti on toast, then?”

  Josh turned at the door and gave Jed a pained look. “Please tell me you can cook?”

  Jed nodded. Then waved his hand in a so-so motion. “I can whip up a mean chicken and chorizo paella when I need to.”

  A smile stretched Josh’s lips. “Welcome to the family, Jed Brody. See you at dinner Sunday.”

  “Good—” Jed began, a heartbeat before Chloe rose up on tiptoe and silenced him with a hungry kiss.

  He heard Josh groan a second before the sound of the door clicking shut filled the room.

  And then he didn’t hear anything else but his wife’s moans of pleasure.

  There was, after all, some serious post-wedding defiling to be done.

  Wedding present number five, coming right up. The Untouchable was about to be well and truly touched.

  MORE FROM LEXXIE COUPER

  Thank you for reading!

  Dear Reader,

  Lust’s Rhythm is a story set in the Heart of Fame world, a series of stand-alone stories that all started with a mega rock star named Nick Blackthorne.

  Nick made an appearance in an m/f/m erotic romance I wrote called Tropical Sin and hasn’t stopped whispering in my head since. He really took over my muse and has constantly poked his head up in so many of my books, not just the Heart of Fame stories.

  I hope meeting him and his daughter Chloe whets your appetite to discover more of the Heart of Fame world. Trust me, if bad boy rock stars, scorching hot firefighters, sinfully sexy movie stars, and brooding bodyguards are your thing, you’ll love the stories of the Heart of Fame series.

  If you’re so inclined, I’d love for you to leave a review for Lust’s Rhythm. We authors truly do appreciate reviews for our books (even bad reviews, believe it or not); it tells us our words have moved you and that is what we write for. Leaving reviews helps get the word out about the stories that you loved (or hated, or felt meh about), which means authors can continue to do what we love: create even more stories for you to read. It’s a win-win situation. Yay!

  Thank you so much for reading Lust’s Rhythm. I hope you join me again.

  Sincerely,

  Lexxie Couper

  OTHER TITLES BY LEXXIE COUPER

  Now Available:

  Contemporary

  Stand-alones

  Triple Dare

  Dare Me

  Suspicious Ways

  Copping a Feel

  Endless Lust

  Timeless Wrath

  Shadow Whispers

  Down and Dirty Box Set

  Jorja: Secret Confessions

  Kat and Mouse

  A Sprite’s Tale (Christmas)

  Powerplay

  Can’t Stay Away

  Party Games Series

  Twister

  Suck and Blow

  Bandicoot Cove Series

  A Single Knight

  Sunset Heat

  Tropical Sin

  Heart of Fame Series

  Blackthorne

  Getting Played

  Blame it on the Bass

  Lead Me On

  Steady Beat

  Guarded Desires

  Muscle for Hire

  Love’s Rhythm

  Balls Up (A Heart of Fame story)

  Compliance (A Heart of Fame story)

  A Single Knight (A Heart of Fame story)

  Outback Skies Series

  Breathless for You

  Burn for You

&nb
sp; Bare for You

  Better with You (coming soon)

  Combustible (An Outback Skies/Heart of Fame story)

  Stimulated Series

  Blowing it Off

  Revving it Up

  Switching it On

  Paranormal

  Principatus Series

  Dark Destiny

  Dark Embrace

  Fire Mate Series

  Ty the Sexy Dragon

  How to Love Your Dragon

  Savage Australia Series

  Savage Retribution

  Savage Transformation

  Sci-Fi

  The Boundaries

  The Boundaries — Assassin

  The Boundaries — Agent

  The Boundaries — Animal

  The Boundaries Trilogy

  Mercy Series

  Highest Bidder

  Deadly Pleasure

  Captured Rapture

  Sci-Fi Stand-alones

  The Sun Sword

  Shifting Lust

  Other Titles

  Foreign Affairs Series (with Mari Carr)

  Princess

  Cowboy

  Master

  Hands

  Foreign Affairs Boxed Set

  Always Series (writing as Cherie M Hudson)

  Unconditional

  Unforgettable

  Undeniable

  ABOUT LEXXIE COUPER

  Lexxie Couper started writing when she was six and hasn’t stopped since. She’s not a deviant, but she does have a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get romances that can make you laugh, cry, shake with fear, or tremble with desire. Sometimes all at once. When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, an indoor cat who likes to stalk shadows, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.

  Contact Lexxie at lexxie@lexxiecouper.com, follow her on Twitter twitter.com/lexxie_couper or visit her at www.lexxiecouper.com where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.

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  The Rock Star’s Secret Baby

  (Ballybeg Bad Boys, Book 2)

  by

  Zara Keane

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  THE ROCK STAR’S SECRET BABY featuring CONFETTI UNDERGROUND

  When a beautiful former fling blasts back into his life, jaded rock star Darko Dunne’s peaceful seclusion on a private island comes to an explosive end. Faced with a band of ruthless criminals and a ticking clock, Darko and Muireann must pool their resources to rescue the baby he never knew he had.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Muireann, the heroine of The Rock Star’s Secret Baby, appeared as a minor character in my first book, Love and Shenanigans. I received a lot of reader mail asking me for the correct pronunciation of her name. Muireann is pronounced ‘Mwurr-in’ or ‘Murr-in’.

  ONE

  “There is a corpse in the guest bathtub.”

  Darko Dunne stopped strumming his guitar mid-song and stared slack-jawed at his butler. Even Bran, his Irish setter, deigned to open one lazy eye. “Say that again, Peters.”

  “A deceased individual is currently occupying one of the guest bathrooms.”

  “Who’s dead? Is it one of the cleaning staff?”

  “No, sir,” Peters intoned in his bland voice. “I’ve never set eyes on the person before.”

  With unsteady hands, Darko placed the guitar back on its stand. The dosage of his new antianxiety medication was too high. Yeah, that had to be it. No way could a stranger turn up dead on a remote island. “Where’s the body?”

  “In the bathroom of the first guesthouse.”

  Darko bounded over to the large desk that occupied one corner of his home recording studio and retrieved his Browning semi-automatic pistol. The action was one borne of impulse. Seven years in the British army had trained him well.

  At the sight of the weapon, the butler’s impassive expression faltered. “I’m hoping that won’t be necessary.”

  “So am I,” Darko said grimly and shoved the gun into his back pocket. He was already striding toward the door. Bran, apparently sensing something exciting was about to happen, roused himself and raced after his master. They thundered up the winding metal staircase that led from the basement to the open living space of the ground floor.

  “I’m assuming you’ve already called emergency services,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I tried.” The butler huffed and puffed in his attempt to keep up with his employer’s rapid pace. “The landline is down again. Besides, the person is beyond saving. I didn’t think it would make any difference if I informed you first.”

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Darko strode over the marble floor to the main entrance. “Do the others know yet?”

  “I don’t know about Mr. Saunders, but Monsieur Desrochers was in the herb garden when I discovered the body.” Peters flushed. “I might have emitted a small screech.”

  Well, well. Maybe Peters was human after all.

  Without waiting for the butler to retrieve their winter coats from the cloakroom, he wrenched open the door and ran down the short flight of steps to the courtyard. “We’ll take the cart to speed us up.”

  He slid behind the wheel of the small golf cart they used to transport supplies around the island. Bran leaped into the back, barking in excitement. A moment later, Peters clambered into the passenger seat, clutching both their coats.

  Darko turned the key in the ignition and eased the vehicle into motion. “Is the corpse male or female? Young or old?”

  “Male. Medium height. Heavy build. Forty-plus.”

  Darko’s fingers tensed around the wheel. The butler’s monotone was getting on his nerves. “This isn’t my next tour schedule, Peters. A man is dead. How did he die? And how the hell did he end up in my bathtub?”

  “My guess is strangulation. As for how he ended up in the tub—” the butler gave a one-shouldered shrug, “—your guess is as good as mine.”

  Ice-cold prickles pierced the back of Darko’s neck and they weren’t caused by the bitter December wind. “I don’t suppose six months of living on an isolated island in the middle of the Celtic Sea has driven you to consuming magic mushrooms with your breakfast omelet?”

  The butler stiffened in the passenger seat. “Certainly not. I abhor narcotics.”

  He sighed. “I suspected as much. So we have an actual murder victim on the premises?”

  “It would appear so.”

  Darko swore under his breath. “For all we know, whoever killed the man might still be on the island.” Keeping one hand on the wheel, he used the other to slide his mobile phone from his pocket and punch in 999, the number for the Irish emergency services. A few seconds later, he tossed the phone onto the dashboard. “Still no signal.”

  The butler cleared his throat.

  Darko held up one palm. “Don’t say you told me so. I know I should have sorted out the phone problem. Alan’s been bitching about it for weeks.”

  “Simply because you choose to isolate yourself from the world does not mean that Mr. Saunders wishes to be without Internet and mobile phone service.” Peters’s voice was bland, but Darko wasn’t fooled. “And in a situation like this—”

  “I’ll get it sorted. I promise.”

  A moment later, they pulled up outside the first guesthouse. Bran bounded out of the golf cart, ran to the door, and wagged his tail in anticipation. Darko leaned down and stroked his soft fur. “At least one of us is pleased at having his morning derailed by murder and mayhem.”

  Peters keyed in the security code and halted in the half-open doorway. “Perhaps we can let the dog go ahead of us. In case anyone is lurking.”

  He slid the pistol from his pocket. “I’m not putting my dog in danger. I’ll go first.”

  When they entered the house, a prickle of u
nease slid down Darko’s spine, but a thorough search of the downstairs rooms revealed nothing out of place.

  Peters hovered in the entrance, clutching Bran’s collar. He’d grabbed a vase from the hall table and was wielding it like a club.

  “Jaysus. Don’t hit me with that thing, will you?” Darko jerked a thumb at the ceiling. “Which bathroom is the dead man in? The en suite or the main one?”

  The butler’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “He’s in the main bathroom.”

  “I’ll lead the way.” Upstairs, Darko conducted a search of all the rooms, eventually pausing in front of the closed door of the main bathroom.

  Peters shifted his weight from one foot to the other but made no move to revisit the scene of the atrocity.

  Pistol cocked, Darko swallowed hard and kicked open the door. Sure enough, the hot tub contained bubble bath, rose petals, and a corpse. The dead man’s arms sprawled over the edge of the tub, displaying a tattoo on his left bicep—the ace of spades with a skull in the center. On the edge of the tub stood two half-full champagne glasses and a bottle of bubbly in an ice bucket.

  Bile surged up Darko’s throat, and his heart rate kicked up a notch. Were it not for the eerie stillness, the man in the tub might have appeared alive.

  On reflex, he patted his shirt pocket and felt the reassuring bulge of his meds. He’d already slipped his fingers into the pocket to extract them when an odd detail arrested his attention. Perched on the bridge of the man’s nose was a pair of sunglasses. A pair of very familiar sunglasses…Darko leaned forward to get a closer look. “What the actual fuck?”

  “Don’t touch anything, sir,” Peters said from the safety of the doorway. He held on to Bran’s collar to prevent the dog from entering the room. “The police will want to dust for fingerprints.”