STARSTRUCK: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The Destroyers MC)

by Zoey Parker

  “Hey there,” she said in a high-pitched voice that instantly grated on my nerves. “I saw you at the audition. Looking to pick up girls?” She giggled.

  “No,” I told her curtly.

  “You sure? Because a guy like you…” She trailed her finger down the line of my shirt, letting her nail catch on the buttons as she went. “Well, I’m sure you’d have a lot of luck.”

  Feeling frustrated, I grabbed her hand and looked away from the door for one second to make my intentions perfectly clear. “I’m not interested.” And before I could stop myself, before this dumb blonde could say anything more, I added, “I’m waiting for my girl, so why don’t you get the hell—”

  But before I could finish telling her off, I heard a scream. I released the woman’s hand, jerking my gaze up in time to see that it was Abby who had screamed. She was struggling with a man in a navy jacket and dark slacks.

  Shoving the woman aside, I raced to Abby as quickly as I could, though I felt as though I was moving through molasses. When I reached her, she was shaking and crying, leaning against the wall. The man was running down the hall and disappeared around the corner before I could even think to go after him.

  “Are you alright?” I demanded, holding tightly to her shoulders.

  She gave a single shake of her head, then showed me what she had fisted in her hands. An Angels baseball cap.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Abby

  Kade spent the next three days trying to convince me to just stay at home, and I was a little ashamed to admit that it had been working. After that last attack, I was pretty shaken up. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore about what was going on—it was way too late for that. Uncle Caleb knew that I had a stalker and so did Kade; there was no more pretending. And that meant that I had to face the music: someone was out to get me. I wasn’t safe.

  I wasn’t safe to go out on my own anymore. Not to a friend’s party or a coffee shop or my favorite spa. Not even my hairdresser, because even if I could trust those people, there was no guarantee for the people who would also come in. Would I see that same man again? Would he jump out of the shadows or walk up casually in broad daylight?

  It was impossible to say, and that terrified me. I wanted to know something at least, but there was no predicting where or when he’d try again, only an assurance that he would.

  But when my agent called to remind me about another awards ceremony that night, I knew I couldn’t let my fear rule me anymore. A lot of that was due to my career. If I let this man scare me away from doing my job, I wouldn’t have much of a job for much longer. People were used to eccentric actors and actresses, but they wouldn’t appreciate one they never saw. And the movie industry was all about riding your wave of fame for as long as they could.

  All of that was true—and none of it was the real reason I wanted to go to that awards ceremony tonight.

  “There are going to be thousands of cameras there,” I argued with Kade, doing my best to convince him that this was a good idea. Even though I wasn’t sure that it was. “No one’s going to try anything crazy. It would be suicide! Why not just call the police up yourself, right?”

  Kade shook his head. “The last attack was in broad daylight, Abby. There’s no telling what this guy will do.”

  That was true, though I wouldn’t admit it because it would quickly weaken my argument. Switching tactics, I said, “I’ll be surrounded by people. It’ll be impossible for him to get to me. These things are all about schmoozing. I’ll be so busy talking to reporters and cozying up with bratty starlets that he won’t have the chance to get me alone.”

  Kade only folded his arms across his chest, his full lips tugging down into a frown. He looked sexy to me even just standing there, not willing to budge. I’d been trying to convince myself that things weren’t going to happen with us since he’d refused to kiss me in the living room that day. I wouldn’t force myself on someone who didn’t want me. But even as I tried to pull away and resist everything that was him, I couldn’t deny that the pull was still there. As hurt as I was by his constant rejection, I still found myself with the lingering desire to slide into his embrace and kiss him until my lips were bruised and swollen.

  “No,” he said simply. “It’s too dangerous.”

  I made a frustrated noise and began to pace. I had to go, didn’t he understand that? But no, of course he didn’t. In his mind, this was all about protecting me. That was his job, his only job in the end, and going to an awards ceremony probably seemed like the worst possible idea in the world to him.

  But I had to make him understand. This was important. “Kade…” My voice sounded pleading and tired and scared, too small for what I was trying to convince him of.

  His rigid stance softened at that voice, however, and his features turned tender instead of stern. “I’m not the bad guy here,” he reminded me softly, quietly.

  I nodded, stepping closer to him even though I promised myself I was going to keep some distance between us. “I know. You’re…” I was about to say something stupid like, You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, but caught myself just in time. “I know you’re not,” I said instead. “But…but there is a bad guy out there and—” I sucked in a quick breath, “—and I need to be stronger than him. I can’t let him dictate my life like this. I can’t let him win. Don’t you understand?”

  And I could see this time that he did. I saw it in his dark eyes as they softened beneath my pleas, and then grew determined at my need to stand up to my attacker.

  With a defeated sigh, he nodded. “Okay. We’ll go. But we’re doing this right; no chances this time. So you’d better use the bathroom before we go and avoid the damn alcohol.”

  I didn’t even argue with him.

  ***

  I dressed to impress tonight. My gown was liquid black, shimmering like waterfalls of crude oil about my body, unforgiving. It put my breasts on display as the neckline dipped low enough that it actually stopped in a V at my natural waist. The straps looked like black guitar strings, interwoven in a grid-like pattern that narrowed as it looped across my shoulder blades in a crisscross and spread out again at my lower back just above my firm rear. It was long enough that it actually dragged on the floor in the back, even with the five-inch heels—Kade’s only concession to my demands beyond letting me go tonight—and if it weren’t for the slit that went to my upper thigh, I probably would have tripped at some point.

  I looked like some dark underworld goddess, and I did my makeup and hair to match it. I wove black lace through my hair and smeared my eyes until they looked like deep, dark smoke, making my blue orbs pop out more than ever.

  Kade walked just behind me, close enough that he would likely be in the pictures, but not so close that people would assume we were a couple.

  Unfortunately, I found myself thinking errantly.

  We walked the red carpet and cameras flashed from every angle. I stopped to autograph pictures of me and to take pictures with fans who were screaming along the sidelines, even though it sent my heart racing and made my palms sweaty.

  They’re fans, this is important, I had to remind myself through it all even though I was terrified.

  Finally, we made it into the lobby where the fans at least weren’t trying to storm the gates to get to me. I did as I was told and avoided the champagne, but I nibbled lightly at several of the snacks and chatted with other actors and actresses until the actual awards ceremony started. I gave at least five impromptu interviews and hoped they wouldn’t be taken out of context too badly, and at least one of them asked about Kade.

  “Is this your latest beau?” the female reporter asked.

  My heart quickened, but I played it off easily. I laughed and leaned toward her conspiratorially to tell her in a stage whisper, “He is gorgeous, isn’t he?”

  The reporter laughed with me and the interview ended without any definitive answer one way or the other. Not that it mattered. It would be splashed across the
pages in the morning with theories about who he was and how we were involved. I couldn’t make myself care.

  I won the award that night and gave a short little speech about how it was so important to me, how it was life changing, and about how grateful I was to have been given the opportunities I’d been given.

  Like I hadn’t worked my ass off to get there.

  When I walked off stage, one of the staff called me over. “Ma’am,” he said, whispering quickly into my ear. “You have a call. You may take it in the back.”

  I thanked him, then turned to find Kade. He was watching me like a hawk, his dark eyes smoldering. I motioned with my head that I was going somewhere else, and he got up immediately, coming over to me in long strides. I went to the back to take the call; Kade hung back only a little, close enough to get to me, but far enough to give me some semblance of privacy.

  He was getting good at the bodyguard thing.

  When I answered the phone, I expected that it would be my agent or someone who hadn’t gotten my temporary number yet, but wanted to congratulate me. But as I answered, I heard the voice that sent chills down my spine and gave me nightmares.

  “If you don’t start doing as you’re told, I’ll have to hurt someone else, too. And the next someone won’t be as lucky as your friend.”

  “What?” I demanded, about to ask what he was talking about, demand who was hurt, but the line went dead before I got the chance. I turned to Kade with wide, desperate eyes and said, “Oh my god.”

  I made Kade drive me to April’s. She was the only person I had ever truly considered a friend and I knew in my heart she was who he was talking about. I told myself over and over again that she was fine, she was alright, but I didn’t believe it, not even as I ran up the steps to her modest little house and banged on the door.

  The door that easily opened with the first knock.

  I swallowed heavily, shaking, terrified of going inside. But I had to because April was in there. I was about to rush in, calling out “April!” but Kade grabbed me by the shoulders.

  “No! I go in first. You wait in the car and call the damn police,” he ordered, then rushed into the house.

  But I didn’t go back to the car. Instead, I hurried in after him, terrified that all I was going to find of my friend was a body. She’s alive, she’s alive, I told myself over and over again. But until I saw her crying on the floor with her back pressed to the bed, I didn’t believe it.

  “April!” I cried, rushing over to her.

  Kade, who only just realized I was behind him, cursed, but didn’t stop me as I wrapped April up in my arms. She sobbed heavily into my shoulder as I stroked her hair. She was a mess. Her hair was tangled and her face was peppered with angry, swollen bruises. One eye was sealed shut and her lip was busted open, blood half dried on her chin and the corner of her mouth. And the rest of her looked about the same. Bruises on her arms and her legs, probably her stomach, too, though I couldn’t see that. She was shaking like a leaf, clearly terrified, and was muttering incoherently about a man attacking her.

  I looked over at Kade finally, his face taut with anger. “We need to get you to the hospital,” he said. And in that moment, tears in my eyes, fear in my heart, I was incredibly relieved that he was here.

  He called an ambulance and they drove her away to the hospital, assuring us that, though banged up, she would be fine.

  ***

  I’d spent most of the night with April, until they finally kicked us out. I didn’t want to go home and leave her, but the nurses insisted that she needed her rest. Kade told me that I did, too. But when we got home to that big empty house, I couldn’t sleep. I knew it without even trying.

  “It’s my fault,” I told Kade in a tiny whisper as he walked me to my room. I was still wearing the gown from the awards ceremony and, it made me feel like I was a little girl playing dress up.

  In two long strides, he was right behind me, his large hands automatically going to my shoulders. He gripped them firmly and I shuddered at the roughness of them. “It’s not,” he told me, conviction laced in his voice. “It’s not your fault, Abby. Don’t you ever believe that.”

  I bit my lip to keep from arguing with him, because I truly did think it was—but I wanted to believe him. Desperately, I wanted to.

  “We’ll catch this asshole, Abby, I promise you.”

  Such conviction. Such determination. It had been a mystery why I had found myself falling so intensely for this man, but standing there with his hands on my bare arms right then and there, it wasn’t any mystery anymore. How could I not want him?

  Slowly, uncertainly, I turned in his arms until I was staring at his chest. “Kade…”

  “Yes?” he asked, his voice low and rough. His right hand moved from my arms to go to my chin, one finger forcing it up so that I was looking into his dark eyes. “Abby?”

  I swallowed hard, daring myself to go through with it. Daring myself to do what I so desperately wanted, what I still half believed he wanted, too. “Please, just for tonight, I need…” I broke off, unable to say just what it was I needed, but I found that I didn’t have to.

  Kade tilted forward ever so slightly, leaning down to me until I felt his warm breath across my face. He closed the space between us and I felt his skin touch mine, our mouths coming together like that was where they belonged. I sighed and shuddered at the same time, pushing myself up to make the kiss harder, to make it linger.

  It was everything I wanted and not enough.

  He pulled back finally, the kiss which I thought he meant to be chaste having turned into something that was only a step away from pure, unbridled passion. And I hadn’t even tasted his tongue.

  “Please,” I tried again, breathless this time. “Help me forget tonight.”

  I could see uncertainty warring in his eyes and knew that he did, in fact, want me. I didn’t know what it was that was pushing him back, what it was he was fighting with himself over, but I knew which side I wanted to win.

  Please choose me, I thought silently, waiting for him to decide.

  When he did, it happened in a flash. His hands renewed their grip on my arms and jerked me forward, slamming my body against his. My breasts flattened against his rock hard chest, my nipples growing hard as his mouth found mine again, this time not even trying to be gentle.

  His lips parted to let his tongue slip out, sliding against my mouth until I opened it, inviting him to explore. He did so eagerly, his tongue sweeping the inside of my mouth and dancing with my tongue.

  My hands moved forward on their own, my fingers brushing against the silky shirt I’d insisted he wear that night, wishing that it was bare skin. He sucked in a breath when I hooked my fingers into his belt loops to pull him even closer.

  “Abby,” he said—the only thing it seemed he could say—then he kissed me again.

  As our tongues dueled and we bruised one another’s lips, my hands went to work. They went to his shirt, undoing the buttons as quickly as they could until they granted me access to that silky hard flesh of his body. His hands were working themselves, moving from my arms to slide down my back, dragging across bare skin where they could find it, until they reached my hips. He jerked them forward, pressing himself against my middle, and I felt him beneath his black slacks. He was hard, there was no question.

  I managed to get his shirt opened and pushed the two halves away from one another so I could slide my hands over his broad chest and lower. He let out a groan as my fingers dipped down over his abs, which tensed at my touch. I went lower still, my fingers sliding along his belt because I couldn’t get any lower. My hips were still crushed against his.

  His hand had found the slit in my dress and he was massaging my upper thigh eagerly, pleased by my bare skin. His hand moved along to my inner thigh, stroking there until I let out a shuddering moan of pleasure, my head falling back slightly as I did so.

  Not missing an opportunity, his mouth found my neck and peppered kisses there, open mouthed and sl
oppy, his tongue dragging across my skin as he went. I suddenly wished I was taller if only so that his mouth could find my breasts and attend to them in the same way.

  He might have been thinking the same thing, because he let out a growl and gripping my inner thigh—close, but not close enough to my molten core—he lifted me higher. I let out a whimper as he gripped me tightly, burying his face in my cleavage. He nipped at the sides of my breasts, then laved at the spots with his tongue.

  My hands had buried themselves in his dark hair, clutching at him, holding him near me. I hadn’t noticed we were moving until he threw me down onto my bed.

  I stared up at him, my chest heaving. “Please,” I heard myself beg.

  His eyes flashed and the tiniest of grins found his full lips. But he didn’t come to me, not right away. He took his time to slide off his shirt, exposing the rest of his chest and those large, muscled arms that could toss me around so easily. With hungry eyes I watched as his hands moved lower to undo his belt. He whipped it out and tossed it aside before popping the button of his slacks and undoing the zipper.