Taming His Rockstar

by Morgan, Samantha

  “Nice to meet you too,” I say, shaking the hand he holds out.

  He thinks about it for a few seconds. Then he reaches into his pocket and brings out a small card.

  “That’s my business card, but it’s got my phone number and email on it. You know” — he shrugs nervously in that cute way of his — “in case you want to chat sometime.”

  I take the card from him and slip it into my purse. After a few more words, I watch him and Dan leave the club arguing about something.

  “He’s going to make up with his girlfriend,” Jane replies, gazing fondly at them.

  I’m not surprised. Jane’s a romantic.

  “I know,” I respond as I pick up my glass and empty it.

  “Seems like you were having a nice time with Ryan,” Jane says as she sits down on the chair Ryan just vacated.

  “I was,” I admit. “He’s a really cool guy.”

  “So, you’re going to call him?” she asks.

  I think about it for a few seconds and end up shrugging. “I don’t know. He was nice and funny, and I’m starting to think there is something wrong with me because he seemed like the perfect guy, and he didn’t even stir me up one bit.”

  “Don’t worry. Give it time. Anyway, it’s great that you at least got out the house and talked to someone.”

  “It is,” I agree with her. “And thank you for dragging me out.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” She glances back at the crowd around us. “So, anyone out there you fancy?”

  I don’t have to look back before I shake my head.

  “I figured as much.” Jane gets up and tugs at my hand. “Come on, let’s dance instead.”

  I glance at the dance floor, and even though a small part of me wants to get out there and sweat a little, a bigger part doesn’t. So, I shake my head again.

  “Nah, but you can go on. I’ll just sit here and see if any other nice, cute guy turns up to flirt with me.” She gives me a look, and I smile and squeeze her hand. “Hey, I’ll be fine, okay? I mean, I came out, flirted, and I enjoyed myself. And I’d be really pissed off if you don’t enjoy yourself because of me.”

  “You sure?”

  I nod and watch as she dances her way back and into the crowds. I smile when she wiggles her ass in my direction and blows a kiss at me. Then she turns around and begins to move to the song. I watch her for a few minutes before turning around.

  “Refill?” Jake asks before I even speak.

  I nod and smile at him. “Thanks,” I say when he brings it back and frown when I realize my drink is no longer red. “What happened here?”

  “Figured you’ve gone from I wanting to work up the courage to have fun to just wanting to feel good.”

  “So more alcohol?” I ask.

  “No, just sweeter.”

  I pick up the new concoction and take a sip. It is sweet, as he said. But not too sweet. Fruity sweet. The best kind of sweet. I sigh and lean on the bar.

  “So, are you like a psychologist or something?” I ask him.

  He grins — seriously, this dude is missing out on some real business here — at me and picks up a used glass from the bar.

  “I’m a bartender, so yeah you could say that.” He rinses the glass and returns it to the rack behind him. “Just saying, I’m pretty good at reading people.”

  “Really?”

  He nods. “For example, I could have told you that Ryan guy was not your type from the moment he stepped up.”

  Ryan pretty much said the same thing, and I agreed with him. But hearing it from Jake makes my hackles rise.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  He gives me a lazy smile that says he isn’t bothered at all by my indignation. I wonder if he would feel the same way if he knew who I was? “He’s more the kind to charm and tease you until you invite him to your place. And you.” He leans on the counter, his face close to mine, and I suddenly get the feeling that his grin is more arrogant than breathtaking. “You’re the kind of person who’s waiting for a guy to tell you to come to his place.”

  It’s hard to tell if he’s flirting with me. It’s annoying to realize that somehow this jerk is somehow having an effect on me. So, I decide to do what I always do when challenged and lean even closer to stare into his eyes.

  “And I suppose you think you know me that well, don’t you?” I lean in even closer and give him my most flirtatious smile, licking my lips in a way I know sends men buckling at their knees and panting in thirst. I know because I’ve seen it work a dozen times. “I bet you even think you can get me into your bed.”

  He stares at me. Right into my eyes. He’s are green. Smoky green. The kind of green that changes color and becomes bright when the lights hit them right. The kind of green that’s getting me all hot and bothered. So bothered I almost miss his answer.

  “Sure I can,” he says with so much confidence it should piss me off. Then he stands up and takes a step back. “Don’t see the point though. Seems like too much work.”

  I start to get mad at him, ready to fly off the handle, and then I pause and smile.

  “Nice try.”

  He smiles back. “Nice to know you’re not one of those.”

  “You mean those girls who start protesting and then dare you to do just that?”

  He nods. “It’s usually fun when they wake up in my bed the next morning.”

  He’s still arrogant, but I have to admit, it’s kind of funny the amount of confidence he has in himself. Of course, his smile alone tells me he has a pretty good reason to be confident.

  “Don’t you think you should attend to the other customers?” I say to him as I lift my straw to my mouth.

  “Not my problem anymore. Finished my shift a few hours ago but was covering for a friend. She’s here now, so I’m off the clock.”

  “Then what are you still doing here?”

  “Good question.” He pretends to think about it. “I don’t know. But I think it has something to do with the beautiful woman sitting in front of me with the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen.”

  It’s a clichéd compliment, and I’d roll my eyes if anyone else said it. From him, I have to clear my throat before I speak again and pray the flashing lights are enough to hide my blush.

  “Is that the best you can do?” I ask, giving him a cocky grin.

  “Not really. Although I have to admit, I do most of my best work in the absence of a crowd and preferably on a flat surface.”

  From romantic to dirty in the space of a few seconds. I have to clutch at my drink. Still, this was not my first rodeo.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that same line and like a hundred of its other cousins. More often than not, it ends up with me in my bathtub with my vibrator while the idiot snores off in my bed.”

  He shrugs. “They are idiots. And I don’t see why you would need to go to the bathroom to use that vibrator when we figure out a better use for it. I mean, won’t be bad if you had some appetizers before the main course.”

  He’s good. I have to admit that. Most men would’ve shut down when they heard the word vibrator. Too insecure to handle the mention of something else they see as competition. The ease with which he took that in stride told me I’m in dangerous waters. But I’m too deep now to go back. I just have to push through and hope it doesn’t get any deeper. And even more that I don’t get any wetter.

  Fortunately for me, Jane takes a break from dancing to check up on me. I smile at her as she takes the stool she vacated earlier.

  “Nice to see you’re really enjoying yourself,” I say to her.

  She grins at me, then smiling gratefully at Jake as he drops a cold glass of something in front of her. “Boy, you’re really good at figuring out what people need, aren’t you?”

  “I try,” he says with that damn smile of his.

  “So, you ready to come dance?” she asks me after emptying almost half her glass.

  I think about it and shake my head.

  “You sure? Or you wan
t to get out of here?”

  “Not yet,” I reply, not ready to admit why I still want to stay. “Why, you’re not dancing again?”

  Jane looks at the dance floor and shrugs. “Not really fun getting guys to rock with you when Travis is not here to get jealous.”

  I smile as I remember how this would’ve played out in the past. Jane and I would step on the dance floor while Travis stayed behind because he didn’t like dancing much. Jane would find some hot guy to dance with, and she’d make sure she did it as explicitly as possible. And when Travis decided he had taken as much as he could, he’d walk up to the dance floor, pull her off, and they would find the nearest available place they could get it on. Then I would listen to Jane complain in the morning about how something was sore or how something ached, this said with the biggest smile in the world. Looking at her now, I can tell she’s already missing him, so I’m not surprised when she reaches for the purse she left with me for safekeeping before she went to the dance floor and retrieves her phone.

  “I’m gonna call him and find out what he is up to,” she says as she wanders away from the bar.

  I watch her walk away and turn my attention back to Jake. He just stares at me, and I stare back, and for a moment, it feels a little awkward. Or I feel a little awkward because Jake seems perfectly content just staring at me. Unable to bear the silence anymore, I let him have this round.

  “So, what’s life like as a bartender?”

  “Money sucks, but hours are flexible enough that I can pursue other interests,” he replies, leaning close with a drink in his hand I figure he has gotten himself during Jane’s recent interlude.

  “What interests?”

  “A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” he replies with a grin and a tilt of his head.

  “I bet you make a lot of tips,” I say, starting to feel just a tad bit tipsy from the drinks.

  “Enough to rent my place and buy myself a bed that very few have left complaining.”

  “You just had to say that, didn’t you?” I grin at him and flutter my fingers teasingly in his face, finally deciding to enjoy the moment and not fight it. “You just had to mention how good you are in bed. Why is that?”

  He thinks about it for a few seconds. Then he stands straight.

  “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want it to be too much of a shock when I finally ask you to come to my place later.”

  My mouth hangs open in surprise, and I swallow first before I reply.

  “And what makes you think I’d say yes?”

  He doesn’t answer me at first. Just gives me a small smile as he turns around the bar to come and sit down beside me, stopping to grab a leather jacket from behind the bar.

  “I don’t think you’d say yes.” He rests his chin on one hand as he stares at me. “I also know it’s not the end of the world if you say no. If anything, it just means one more attempt at hooking up that ended in a denial.”

  “So, you do this regularly then?”

  He chuckles at that. “Funny enough, up to this moment, I’ve made it a point to never date anyone I meet at this bar.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “You seem so . . . good at it.”

  “Good at flirting? Yeah, I’m a bartender. I need to make rent, and I’ve found out women tip better when I smile at them. Some men too.”

  I don’t doubt that for a second. “So why now, and why me?” I ask, wondering if somehow he figured out who I am and is just playing along, trying to score with a famous rock star. I mean, I don’t mind that. It just . . . hurt a little.

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” He leans toward me, his face so close I see flecks of grey in the green of his eyes. So close, my breath makes the hair on his face ripple, and I fight to control it. “Something tells me you’d probably be more trouble than you’re worth, and yet I still can’t seem to convince myself why that’s a bad thing.”

  “I could say the same about you,” I reply in a breathy tone.

  I start to feel it again. That itch at my back. Right in the middle of my collarbones. And again, it takes Jane to save me. This time, she tugs at my hand rather insistently.

  “We’ve got to go now.”

  I snap out of the spell Jake’s gaze has casted on me and turn to her. “What?”

  “Travis is going to call back in five minutes, and I plan to be in bed with my vibrator in my hand when he does,” she replies with a suggestive wiggle of her brows. “Come on.”

  But I don’t want to leave. Not yet. Still, I’m not sure I want to explore this thing with Jake. Like him, something tells me he is probably more trouble than he is worth, yet I can’t seem to convince myself that it’s a bad thing. And when I seem to be stalling forever, he gets to his feet and turns to Jane.

  “Actually, Katie and I were just about to head to my place.”

  Jane pauses and takes a step back, blinking several times in shock. Then her lips curve in a grin so wide I’m surprised she doesn’t crack her face.

  “The two of you are . . .” She stops and stares at him.

  I could end it right there. I haven’t agreed to go back with him to his place, and all I need to do is say just that, and it will be the end of it. I’ll be back at home, in my empty bed with my new vibrator for company, and God knows he’s the one I will be thinking of when I get off. Why settle for the fantasy when the real thing is in front of me?

  “Yep,” I say, getting to my feet. “I’m going home with Jake.”

  And my back stops itching.

  Chapter 7

  Jake lives in a studio apartment, and even before we walk in, he’s already apologizing for the state of the apartment. Which means I’m expecting utter chaos since I know exactly how dirty some men can get. He manages to surprise me when we walk in and I find the apartment relatively neat. While he runs around picking up empty pizza boxes and returning cushions to the single couch in the living space, I find myself admiring a painting in the middle of the room. I know it’s erotic because of how it makes me feel, even though it’s not the usual depiction of naked women and blooming flowers that most erotic art is.

  “It’s a cock.”

  I turn around slowly and find Jake holding two glasses in his hand. I glance down at it. “I thought you were supposed to stop with the alcohol after I agreed to come home with you?”

  “Just juice,” he replies. “I’m going to need you sober enough for the next part. Besides, I didn’t need alcohol to get you here tonight. We both know it’s why you came to the bar.”

  I can’t argue with that, so I turn back to the painting and finally find it, buried amongst the mishmash of colors. A big and bold phallus with fountains of colors spewing out the top. I turn and point to the remaining paintings hanging on the wall.

  “So, you’re a collector?”

  He shrugs. “You could say that. Some of it is mine though.”

  He says it noncommittally, but I know enough about art to hear the pride and devotion in his voice. This is more than a hobby to him. I look at the paintings one by one, seeing a mishmash of styles. It should have led to chaos. Yet in this apartment with its big-ass TV and entertainment center, single couch, and bachelor’s vibe, it works well. Perhaps because of the man standing in the very center of the room. He’s watching me over the rim of his glass, and I wonder if he’s waiting for me to grant him permission to approach. I hope he’s not one of those. God knows, I’m attracted to him on some whole other level. It’d be a huge turnoff if he turned out to have a submissive bend.

  “This one is yours.” I point to the erotic art. “Isn’t it?”

  “Why do you say that?” he asks as he walks toward me.

  “It kind of screams you. It has this underlying sexual tension beneath. Like you’re trying to mask that part of you beneath layers of color.” I lick the rim of my glass and smile when I hear him hold his breath. “Still, it manages to shine through, nevertheless.�
�

  “You’re playing with fire,” he says in a deep voice that vibrates with a million sexual thoughts all aimed at me. It’s been a long time since I got wet because of a man. This is the first time I got wet before he even places a hand on me, and I remember thinking we haven’t even kissed yet. “You want to get burned?”

  I give him my laziest smile. “I’m starting to think you’re all talk and no bite.”

  He returns my smile, and his has my knees buckling. “Come here,” he orders in a lazy drawl that has me moving before I can even process the actual command.

  I strut toward him sexily. At least, I hope I do. It’s hard to concentrate on my gait when I can see his cock straining at his crotch. I mean literally. It pulses and jerks right in front of me. I get to him, and he wraps his hand around my hips and pulls me to him as he crushes my mouth in a kiss. Somehow, he manages to remove the glass in my hand and drops it next to his on a coffee table. A move that makes me ask just how many times he’s done that.

  My fingers immediately go to his shoulders, and I grip them, my nails digging into him as I move closer into him. His tongue probes at my lips, and I part them immediately, moaning when I taste him right in my mouth. His hands on my hips are like steel bands, yet his grip on me is a light caress that feels like the whisper of the wind. I want him to hold me tighter, need to feel the strength in his hands. Not that I’m too focused on that. No, my brain is still getting used to the onslaught of his tongue in my mouth. That tongue doesn’t stay still. It strokes the insides of my mouth, an erotic wrestle with my tongue that has me getting tipsy with pleasure. I press closer to him, moving my hips so I can feel the hardness of his cock thrusting against me. Knowing I’ve done that to him makes me get drunk on my power, and I begin to move against him. He returns my thrust with a motion of his hips, and I feel the imprint of his cock even harder. I whimper. A loud sound of sheer helplessness that I can’t believe comes out of me as I begin to ride the steel column of his erection, my sex fairly dripping wet now. If only I could make the clothes between us disappear. But I figure if I do this long enough, rock against him hard enough, I can push myself over the edge I’m slowly approaching.