The Body Rock Series Boxed Set (Rockstar Romance)

by Flite, Nora

  Tomorrow, will we both be different people? I couldn't deal with the idea that I wasn't transformed. The me that had existed before Drezden and I had kissed was a far cry from the version of me that had to live with the fact we'd just made love.

  What will he act like tomorrow? What will my life be like now?

  Sleep would not come easy for me that night.

  That was fine.

  I needed every iota of alone time I could salvage to think.

  End of Book Two

  -FLAWED BODY ROCK-

  Book 3

  Prologue

  Drezden

  “What do you think is the most important thing you need to be a good guitarist?”

  I lifted my head. My father watched me, his fingers perched like sparrows on the strings of his guitar. What did you need to be a good guitarist? It was a weird question. Somehow, I knew it was the most important thing he would ever ask me.

  My lips peeled back to speak. Around me, the world shimmered. My father looked down with a grin so sweet it caused me pain. Above him, the sun burned until sweat ruined my vision.

  Then he reached out, bringing shards of pain and the cold reality of existence.

  Inhaling sharply, I sat up on the bed. The room was quick to solidify. White walls, the vague hint of sun through the covered hotel windows. My fingers scraped across my damp forehead.

  I hadn't had a dream about my father in some time.

  Why now? I wondered, the itch of his question still inhabiting my skull. The springs squeaked, reminding me of something far more pressing than my haunting memories. In the bed, right next to me, was the pale shape of another ghost.

  Lola breathed peacefully, blanket discarded like she was too warm. The dip of her waist tugged me in, leading me on a journey from her neck to her thighs. Fucking hell, she's even more beautiful when she's vulnerable. She faced away, showing me her spine, elegant fingers convulsing occasionally. I bet she's dreaming of playing her guitar.

  A crude buzzing noise started up. It cut into my moment, infuriating me further when Lola mumbled and shifted. In only my wrinkled shirt, I slid from the mattress just enough to find my discarded jeans. Strangling the source of the awful noise, my phone, I recognized the missed calls from Brenda.

  It wouldn't be the first time I'd hung up on her. It would, however, be the first time I'd so easily decided to ignore my responsibilities.

  The first time I'm choosing something—someone—over my career.

  The implications of that tightened my guts. In an attempt to not dwell, I buried the silent phone deep in my pile of denim. There would be time for introspection later.

  Rolling back, I gazed into the bleary blue eyes of one very naked Lola Cooper. Her hair was mussed, partially hiding the tips of her impossibly flawless breasts. “What is it?” she yawned, clearly half-asleep.

  She came awake the second I buried my mouth on hers.

  “Nothing important,” I said quickly. Speaking was a waste of air, of time. I needed to salvage every bit of existence I had. I wanted to taste her again; to claim her, remind her where she was and who I was.

  Who we both were, now.

  It made no fucking sense. I was sure if I tried to explain it, I'd just sound insane. My fingers dragged across her ribs, crushing her deeper into the rumpled blankets. They would have to speak for me.

  The knock on the door doused me with ice.

  Who the hell would dare interrupt me?

  “Drez.” Lola tightened, paralyzed by... what? The knocking? That did nothing to help my mood. “Go see who it is,” she whispered.

  “You don't need to whisper.” I ignored her suggestion to answer the door. I didn't care who it was, or what they wanted. I had a pretty good idea what it was about. I just didn't want to acknowledge it.

  When the knock came again, followed by the recognizable—and pissed off—voice of Brenda, Lola gave me a hard shove. I sat up enough to stare at her sobering glare. “Go talk to her. It's obviously important.”

  “Alright, I'm going. Fuck.” There was no disguising my disappointment. Peeling off of Lola, I jammed my legs into my briefs and jeans. My cock argued with me the whole time, threatening to break the zipper.

  Gripping the door knob, wishing I could snap it off, I yanked it open. Brenda stood there in all her frazzled glory. Her crimson strands were knotted in a messy bun. In spite of all the signs she'd rushed over to my room, she still had thrown on some shiny black heels.

  She reached out, fingers wrapping in the front of my shirt. It would have been funny if her face wasn't contorted in disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

  If vipers could talk. I closed my hand over hers pointedly. I was bigger, stronger, and didn't like anyone trying to man-handle me; managers not excepted. “Morning to you, too.”

  “Don't 'morning' me you giant dickhole!” It took everything she had, but she managed to move me forward and into the hall with a solid twist of her body. “Ignoring my calls? Are you fucking insane? What were you...” She never finished. I knew what she was seeing around me, or rather, who she was seeing. Lola was easy to spot in my bed.

  Pushing her out further, I shut the door behind me. “Yeah. She's in there.”

  For uncounted seconds, Brenda just stared at me. Pulling her arm back, she wiped her palm on the front of her blouse like she'd been touching something sticky. “You aren't even ashamed about it, are you? Jesus. Drezden, what were you thinking?”

  I was thinking that I wanted Lola. Nothing close to that rolled off my tongue. Instead, I squinted down at her while smoothing my hair. The situation, her anger, it almost made me crave a smoke. Almost. With Lola in my system, I didn't want for much. “Brenda,” I said flatly, “sorry about ignoring the calls. I'll get our stuff and get down to the bus in five minutes.”

  Her laugh was crisp; cynical. “Oh, no. You don't get to just walk away from this. Drezden, everyone saw you two last night! It's all over the fucking internet, my phone is blowing up, it's ridiculous! Were you drunk? Was she drunk?”

  Prickles went up my neck. “We knew what we were doing.” I wouldn't allow myself to think otherwise.

  “How the hell am I going to hide this?” She was watching me with... pity? Her emotions were all over the place. The lack of lipstick she wore hinted more at her distress than anything she'd said.

  My arms bundled over my chest. “You aren't going to.”

  “You're saying you don't think I can?” The bridge of her nose wrinkled.

  “No. I'm telling you not to bother.”

  With her hands falling to her sides, my manager froze. “I have to hide this. We all have to!”

  The vein on her forehead is going to split open. Pushing off the wall, I met her stare straight on. There was no room for argument in my tone. “I want the whole god damn world to know about Lola and me.” Let them see she's mine.

  Groaning openly, Brenda rubbed at her cheeks until they went raw. “You're joking! Drezden, if I bury this now, people will forget about it in a few days. Maybe less if we give them something else to gossip over. What would make you want to risk losing fans, gaining jealous stalkers, and—and just what are you after here?”

  There were a few things that floated up in my mind. I was the one who told Lola to take the risk. I was the one who wanted this.

  What am I after...

  And what's making me go down this road?

  The answer was both frightening and enticing.

  “I'm after my prize.” Showing Brenda my back, I twisted the door knob. “We'll be down in five.” Without another word, I closed myself away from the world.

  Closed myself off from everything but Lola Cooper.

  Chapter One.

  Lola

  The instant Drezden left, I was out of the bed. Sitting there nude was too much for me. The shock in Brenda's face when she spotted me, met my eyes, left me cold with shame. I shouldn't feel bad. I didn't do anything wrong. Not really. My confidence was shaken beyond any ra
tionalizing.

  The clothes from last night felt itchy, out of place as I slid them on. They smelled entirely of Drezden Halifax. Everything about me did.

  Running my fingers down my stomach, I glimpsed myself in the mirror above the bed. I look the same. I just don't feel the same. Frankly, it baffled me that I didn't feel more different than I did.

  It was a new day, but I wasn't a new person.

  Guess I shouldn't be so surprised that movies exaggerate how sex changes lives. Outside, a single raised voice pricked my ears. Brenda was shouting without bothering to stifle it. Whatever she was saying was too garbled to discern.

  Pulling my phone from my pocket, I stared at the missed calls and text messages. My battery was over halfway drained, the time flashing at me, warning how late in the morning it was. No wonder she's so pissed. We should have been on the road an hour ago. Scrolling through my voicemail showed Brenda had called me eleven times.

  My brother had texted me just once.

  'Call me.'

  Seeing that message throttled my mood. He knows what Drezden and I did. Imagining how obvious we'd been at the club, how we'd danced—how we'd kissed—in front of so many people... If I thought no one would find out, I'm a moron. A part of me had suspected, maybe even hoped, the world would recognize the pull between the singer and myself.

  Faced with the reality in my head-throbbing state was different.

  There really is no way to turn the clock back.

  That knowledge sent warmth to the crown of my skull. In the world of facts, there was comfort. Drezden couldn't hide what had happened, neither could I. The lack of options was... freeing.

  The sound of the door opening made me twist. He entered, seeking me out with that gaze capable of transforming me into honey and silk. Green irises rolled over me, intangible, yet still lifting goosebumps. “Is everything alright?” I croaked, wishing for moisture on my tongue. “Brenda sounded really pissed.”

  Drezden gave me no chance. The blankets tangled around me, far less constraining than his fingers in my hair. He tasted stale, less sweet than usual. I didn't care about that... he was intoxicating any time of the day.

  But I did care about what my manager had been upset about.

  My limbs felt far away as I nudged them on his shoulders. I succeeded in forcing his lips off. That sharp nose rubbed on mine, the two of us magnetic, stuck together at all seconds. “Drez, what did she say to you?” The breathy way I spoke wasn't intimidating. He indulged me, sitting back and straddling my hips. I was glad I'd dressed. It would have been astronomical to deny him anything with only skin between us.

  “Take a guess,” he said. There was a strange smile dancing on the corner of his mouth. I ached to kiss it away, but resisted.

  “Angry about us not being ready and on the tour bus. That,” I sighed, “or about how I'm in your bed right now.”

  His fingers crawled down, playing with the top button of his jeans. Just seeing that had my heart jumping, wishing he wouldn't go further while praying otherwise. “Try both.”

  Both. Of course it's both. Shimmying up the mattress, I pushed my hands on his thighs. My goal was to detach, to scramble and hurry so we could get downstairs and appease Brenda. I didn't want her mad, I didn't want anyone mad, I didn't want—

  Firm hands closed over mine, pressing them like flowers meant to dry in a book. Drezden stopped my struggle. In an instant, he made me freeze where I was and stare up at him. What's that expression he's wearing? His forehead was scrunched, but his mouth was relaxed. Drez's tone didn't match those tempting lips one bit. “You're upset about this, aren't you?”

  It was such an obvious observation. I had to bite back the laugh of disbelief. “You may be used to Brenda getting mad at you, but I'm not. I don't think I really want to get used to it, either.”

  The tips of his thumbs drove into my skin, suffocating the veins along the backs of my hands. He waited until I hissed outward; only then did he speak again. “Tell me why this is bothering you, Lola.”

  “I—what?” Isn't it clear?

  The turmoil growing in his unfairly handsome face told me it wasn't. “Are you regretting what we did? Regretting last night?”

  Last night. Just the words turned my face hot. A thickness overtook my throat, everything numb but the pain in my hands. The pain Drezden was so eager to cause. I didn't care, what he'd said... Now I understand what his expression means.

  Drezden suspected I thought what we'd done was a mistake.

  I couldn't move my arms. With Drezden so near, I didn't need to. The tension in his face melted when I bent forward, closing the gap and kissing him fiercely.

  I didn't regret last night.

  I couldn't regret it.

  If I even considered it a mistake, in any capacity, I'd fall too far into black guilt. My right forearm throbbed at the thought, the tattoo of a castle writhing in my mind.

  “Lola,” he gasped, releasing me, only to trap me again as he gripped my cheeks. The heat in his eyes boiled over. On the edge of the world, I waited to hear what he would say. My heart tangled with my tongue, abandoning me to breathless silence. “I told Brenda we'd be down in five minutes.”

  It took me a second to devour the words and make sense of them. I was laughing before I knew it. Of all the things to say in this moment. Wiping the corner of my eye, my smile stretched wider. “Think she'd mind waiting fifteen?”

  “Of course she will.” He scratched a nail down my long neck, a path to my collar bone. “She'll hate twenty even more.”

  My body remembered everything he'd done to me last night. It had done a wonderful job burying the one incident marring the event. When I arched into him, hands trailing down his back, it was the hem of his shirt that reminded me.

  That scar. His scar that he hid from me while we were having sex. I'd spotted it without his knowledge while he slept. Shame raked at my heart; Drez's teeth on my jaw ate it away. His talent in singing warred with his skill in melting my brain.

  Beneath us, the springs squealed with his weight on me. Drezden had teased me last night, spoiled me by taking his time. Now, he yanked free the shirt I'd put on only minutes ago. It left my hair tangled, worsened what sleep had done to my brunette strands.

  I was battling with the side of me that wanted to just forget. Why did I care so much about that stupid scar? Drezden was promising me with his deft fingers, his warm lips, that he could take me away from my paranoid worry. If I just let him break down the shards of concern that warned me he was hiding himself, I could liquify under his muscles and thrumming chest.

  A single hand, reaching between us to stroke the outside of my jeans, won the fight.

  I stopped holding on to that one worry.

  Metallic teeth vibrated apart, Drez tugging my pants down my thighs. He didn't remove them all the way, just enough to reveal my panties between us. The front of his denim was unyielding with his obvious hard-on. Crushing against me, he ground his hips in gentle waves. If the fabric of my underwear hadn't been ruined last night, it was now.

  Circling my arms around his shoulders, I kissed his neck, muffled my gasp. I'd craved him after our dance in the club. I thought I couldn't have wanted him more than that. But then I actually had him. It's worse, knowing what waits. It was like tasting air, learning to breathe for the first time.

  His hand guided to my lower back, forced me to curve my chest against him. With his free fingers, he unbuttoned himself, slipped his denim out of the way. Though it was the texture of his soft briefs and not the roughness of jeans, Drez's erection wasn't gentler.

  “Shit,” he grunted, hoarse with his need. “We have a problem.”

  Heat stung my cheeks; he'd stopped moving, but my own hips were writhing against the shape of his cock. The fact there was only thin fabric between us was driving me mad. “What, what's wrong?” Is it the time, has it already been twenty minutes somehow?

  Drezden paused, caught up as he stared down at me. His nostrils flared, and I thri
lled knowing I was making him openly lose control. “Fucking fuck,” he said, clenching his jaw. “Last night was my last condom.”

  A vinegary taste flooded my mouth, choked me. His last? How many does he go through? It was a stark reminder of how different our lives were—or had been. I didn't carry condoms on me, I'd never thought about needing them on the tour. My expectation of the journey had been full of hard work, sweat, and potential opportunities. All of which have come true, to varying degrees.

  And here I was, under Drezden Halifax, learning that in spite of my growing arousal, the painfully sexy singer was out of condoms.

  How many had he gone through before me?

  Scrunching his forehead, Drezden dug his palm into my spine. The motion coaxed me to rub my damp panties on his swollen member, both of us moaning in response. “This is god damn awful.” Laughing as hollow as a drum, Drez shook his head. “How terrible is it that I don't want to stop?” Seemingly goaded on by my whimper, he rocked against me firmly.

  Sparks ramped up in my brain. The pressure inside of me, just from his sliding against the outside of my covered slit, was maddening. “I—then don't.” Don't stop, I thought selfishly. I knew I was giving him permission to do something dangerous. If I'd made bad choices before in my life, this one trumped them all.

  The very last thing I needed was to end up pregnant.

  Encouraged by how I was helplessly rubbing against him, legs trembling, Drezden bent low and stole a kiss. The discussion was over; perhaps there was no reason to have one. If he had been giving me an out, I'd missed it. Was he going to just fuck me anyway? I wondered in a daze.

  Teeth cut against my earlobe. “You really want this, don't you?” he whispered.

  All I could manage was a tiny squeak.

  His chuckle was sinful, driving my senses higher. Easily, he hooked his fingers into the top of my underwear. The air was cool against my melting pussy.

  I couldn't see anything but Drez's temple, his hair tickling my nose. He must have pushed his briefs out of the way, for the smooth, glorious weight of his cock bounced against my belly. “Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he taunted, speaking against my throat.