Garrett: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance (Rock Hard Book 1)

by Lilian Monroe

  I was in so much trouble. This job was hard enough as it was, and I had so much riding on its success, and now I couldn’t even trust my own body to behave.

  Somehow, within less than a day, Garrett Wood had turned my world upside down. I’d gone from a strong career woman about to start a difficult assignment, to a horny, blushing, coming-in-the-hallway mess.

  I rounded the corner and headed towards the studio when I almost crashed right into my boss, Marcus.

  “Whoa, there, Matthews, slow down!” He said, catching my arms and chuckling. I shrugged away from him and huffed.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I just wanted to check on you. This is the biggest contract that our firm has, after all. And it’s The Mondays’ first public performance since we took over.”

  “I know that. But I’ve been working for you for the better part of a decade and you’ve never come to check up on me, no matter how big my assignments were.”

  His eyes gleamed with malice, and he smirked. “Well, you know The Mondays have a certain… reputation. You were so confident that you’d be able to tame them. I just wanted to see you work your magic.”

  My thoughts flew to the hallway where I’d been with Garrett and I felt like I hadn’t tamed them at all. If anything, he’d tamed me, and I had actually liked it. A lot. I glanced around and my stomach dropped. I realized it was this hallway where it had happened. Marcus was standing in almost the exact spot where I’d had a mind-melting orgasm just half an hour ago.

  I cleared my throat, squared my shoulders and stared at the man who was trying to ruin my career. The man who thought he could throw me to the wolves and watch me fail. The man who thought I would take his job. No, the man who’s job I would take. “Well, call me your Fairy fucking Godmother, Marcus, because my magic is about to be worked.”

  I brushed past him and found my spot in the studio behind the cameras. Recording started, and The Morning Show with Mark and Michelle was under way. The Mondays were the third guests, so I settled in to watch the recording. There was a small live audience, cameras, producers, interns—everyone was buzzing with energy.

  Then, finally, the band came on. Marcus appeared next to me, and his sharp elbows nudged me in the ribs. I ignored him. I already knew his weasel-like face had a self-important smirk on it, I didn’t have to turn to look at him to make sure.

  No, my eyes were glued on one man: Garret. Freaking. Wood. His black tee-shirt was pulled tight across his impossibly broad chest. His tattoos peeked out from under it, climbing up his neck and down his muscled arms. The heat inside me burned hotter and the rest of the world fell away.

  For the next five minutes or so, all I saw was him. I saw him moving fluidly on stage, making Michelle of Mark and Michelle blush, smiling for the camera. I saw him being a rock star.

  When Mark announced a commercial break and the band went towards the stage to start their musical slot, I breathed a sigh of relief. I finally turned to Marcus with a triumphant smile.

  “Told you I was magic,” I grinned.

  Marcus’ face darkened and he shot me a look loaded with venom. “We’ll see,” he said, and then turned on his heels and stalked out of the studio.

  The band started playing and I found a seat. Once again, I was captivated by Garrett. He caught my eye, singing straight to me as he strummed his guitar and I melted. I could still feel his hands on me, running over my body, my breasts, the space between my legs.

  I could feel it, but as he sang to me, I knew it would never be enough. I wanted more. His blue eyes blazed and I watched his hands slide effortlessly along his guitar as he closed his eyes and sang, and it felt like nothing else existed except him and me.

  My heart thumped, and I knew I was in trouble. I was fucking smitten, and there was nothing I could do about it. This muscular, tattooed, bad boy rock star had shown me what it meant to orgasm. He’d shown me what it mean to belong to someone, and I wouldn’t be able to rest until he had all of me, and I had all of him.

  He looked at me again, and warmth pierced through my chest.

  Then, their slot was over and they called for a commercial break.

  Today had gone well. The three of them had been true stars on the show. They hadn’t said anything that would require some damage control, and they’d promoted their new album perfectly. And they looked great, thanks to Lacie.

  But all of that paled in comparison to the heat that seared through my body every time Garrett looked at me. When they walked off stage, I took a moment to compose myself, and then stood up and followed them back to their dressing room.

  My whole body buzzed with every step that took me closer to Garrett. He paused in the hallway, letting me catch up. His hand snaked around my back and he leaned in to me so I could smell his spicy, manly scent. My knees went weak and I closed my eyes to try to regain my composure.

  “How was that, boss?” He asked. The breath caught in my throat as his hand grazed my ass. Every time he called me boss it made my heart race. I didn’t feel like a boss around him. I could hardly control my own body, let alone anything going on outside of it.

  “It was great, Garrett,” I replied, not knowing if he meant the Morning Show or the orgasm he gave me in the hallway. He growled, and squeezed my hip before dropping his hand.

  The first hurdle at the Morning Show had been a success, but I knew I was in trouble. The problem was, I liked this kind of trouble.

  I liked it a lot.

  Chapter 9 - Garrett

  Morgan wasn’t kidding. By the time the day was over, we’d done about a million different interviews and a photo shoot for a magazine. Our new publicity plan was well under way. It was all leading to the Grammys on the weekend. If today was anything to go by, this would be a very, very busy week. But the thought of spending long hours doing boring interviews didn’t seem so bad if Morgan was there with us.

  After the slot on The Morning Show, I didn’t see Morgan for the entire day. We were driven from one place to the next with Lacie and Veronica, but Morgan left to go work from her office. While we waited to finish our last interview, Carter and I sipped some drinks in the dressing room.

  “What do you think of this new PR team?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  Carter shrugged. “It’s a lot of fucking work.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  We both turned as Maddox tumbled in the door, flushed and disheveled. I quirked my eyebrow and handed him a beer. “Where did you run off to?” I asked.

  “Nowhere,” he answered, avoiding my eye as he accepted the beer. “Bathroom.”

  Lacie, the makeup artist, walked in the door looking every bit as flushed as Maddox. I looked at Carter and grinned. She avoided looking at any of us, choosing instead to usher me to the makeup chair and start working on me.

  “How many times a day do you have to touch up my makeup?” I complained as I watched her exchange a glance with Maddox.

  “As many times as you appear on camera,” she shot back, finally meeting my eye. “And for the next week, that’s multiple times a day. I heard you loved having women all over you, you shouldn’t be complaining,” she grinned.

  I laughed. Any other day, it would have been true. I did love having women all over me—well, at least, I used to. But ever since Morgan walked in and made my heart stop, things had changed.

  I wanted Morgan here with us. I wanted to claim her curves as I pushed her up against the wall. I wanted to kiss her perfect mouth again and again. I wanted to unleash the beast inside me and show her what it meant to be mine.

  I wanted all that, and more, but I couldn’t have it. I was stuck in that makeup chair, waiting to do yet another interview.

  By the time the day was done, Maddox and Carter disappeared without much of a goodbye. I got in my car and headed towards my rehearsal space, wanting to do what I hadn’t been able to do all day: play some music. With all these photo shoots and interviews and TV appearances, it felt like we were less of a ban
d and more just vapid celebrities that wanted to be seen.

  It was a world that I wasn’t really comfortable with, but I knew I had to be a part of it if I wanted to continue being a rock star.

  It all reminded me of my ex-girlfriend, and the way she walked all over me to get with the next biggest star. This whole existence was fake. The photos, the interviews—all of it. The only real thing about it was the music, and we hadn’t even gotten to play that much today.

  I shut the door to the rehearsal space behind me and picked up my guitar. I sat down on the couch and leaned back, closing my eyes and strumming.

  For the first time in months, I strummed a new melody. I put together chords I’d never combined before, picking and strumming and actually writing new music.

  The whole time, I thought of her. Of Morgan.

  Of her perfect body and velvety-soft pussy. Of the way she moaned into my mouth as I kissed her and arched her back when she came. I thought of the way it felt to have her pressed up against me, and the animal instinct in me that awoke whenever she was near.

  Within an hour, I had the makings of a great song.

  “Haven’t heard that one before,” a voice said from the doorway. I turned to see Morgan, leaning against the door jamb, hands in her pockets as a smile played over her lips.

  She wasn’t dressed in her usually sexy-as-hell professional clothes. She was wearing a plain white tank top and a casual denim mini skirt, and she looked perfect. Her tits strained against the white fabric, and my cock immediately twitched in my pants. I stopped playing my guitar, tilting my head and looking her up and down.

  Fuck, she was sexy.

  “How long you been standing there?” I asked.

  “Not long. Tony told me I’d probably find you here. She shrugged, pushing herself off the door and letting it close behind her. Tony, our manager, knew me too well. Not that I minded Morgan being here. She dropped her purse and tucked a long strand of golden hair behind her ear. Her eyes flicked to mine as her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and the fire inside me roared.

  I wanted her so fucking bad it hurt.

  She looked at me and took a deep breath.

  “Look, Garrett,” she started, glancing down at the floor. “I’m attracted to you.” Her eyes lifted back up to mine, and I saw a thousand questions in them.

  “But what happened today can’t happen again. We need to keep this professional if it’s ever going to work. You guys need to have a good show at the Grammys, and my boss reminded me very clearly today that I need that to happen as well.”

  “Who? That weaselly-looking guy at The Morning Show? That’s your boss?”

  “Yeah. Not that I’d expect you to care what happens to me, but if you fail, then so do I.”

  “What? What did he say to you? Fuck him!”

  She grinned. “No comment.”

  I put my guitar to the side and stood up, walking towards her. When we were only inches apart, I moved my finger under her chin and tilted it up towards me.

  “So you’re telling me you don’t want me? That’s why you’re here?”

  Fuck that.

  She took a long, shuddering breath. “I’m not saying I don’t want you. I’m saying I can’t.” She looked away from me, and I ran my finger down her neck and along her collarbone. “What happened today…” she inhaled. “My job is important to me.”

  “I can see that,” I said, letting my fingers drift down between her breasts. She shivered, closing her eyes. “But you want me.”

  She looked at me then, and I could see the force of her longing. Her eyes begged me to touch her. She bit her lip and a blush warmed her cheeks and my balls immediately started boiling with cum. I let my hand drift down her stomach, tracing the waistband of her skirt and wrapping my arm around her back.

  “I want you too, Morgan Matthews,” I said dipping my head towards her ear. My breath on her skin made her shiver, and she leaned ever so slightly into me. “And I’m a man who gets what I want.”

  “Are you?” She breathed in a hushed whisper.

  “Yes,” I replied. I pulled her closer with my arm around her waist, tilting her head up towards me with my other hand. “But I want you to say it. I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to. If you want it to, this will end today. Just say the word.”

  She whimpered, biting her lip and rolling her hips towards me. My cock strained against my jeans and she moaned, pressing herself against it.

  “Say it,” I whispered. “Tell me what you want.”

  Her breathe caught in her throat and she swallowed. “I want…,” she breathed as her hands curled into my shirt, pulling me closer to her.

  “Say it.”

  “I want you.”

  I grinned. “You like it when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

  A second ticked by, and then another. Finally, she said the word I’d been dying to hear. She barely whispered it, just breathed it as if she could hardly believe she was saying it out loud.

  “Yes.”

  Then, it was like thunder clapping. The tension between us exploded and I crushed my lips against hers. I pulled her against me until she melted into my arms. She kissed me fiercely, bringing her hands up to grasp at the fabric of my shirt, clinging onto me as she kissed me again and again.

  Chapter 10 - Morgan

  Every thought melted from my head when his lips touched mine, leaving only the white-hot desire that flooded my body. He wrapped his strong, muscular arms around me and pulled me to him until my chest was pressed against his. His kiss was hard and insistent, teasing my lips open as I tried to get even closer to him.

  Deep down, I knew this would happen if I came here tonight. I knew I’d give in to the burning desire inside me. I knew I’d want him too much to resist. I knew all those things, and I didn’t care.

  It’s what I wanted. I wanted him.

  His hand slipped up my shirt and slid up my spine, sending a new wave of sparks flying through my body. I moaned into his mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck as he ground his hips towards me.

  The huge, hard thickness of his erection pressed into my belly and I gasped. Garrett pulled away from me then, dropping his hands to my hips and pulling them closer to him.

  “You feel that, angel,” he growled. “You feel what you do to me?”

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  He sat down on the couch, pulling me with him so that I was sitting astride him. My skirt rode up my hips and he slipped his hands under it, teasing the outside of my legs as the warmth of his hands flooded through me. All that covered me now was the thin, white lace thong that I’d put on under the skirt. It was completely soaked through, clinging to my lips with the dampness of my desire. He groaned again as I rolled my hips towards him.

  “You are a bad girl,” he growled, running his hands back towards my ass. He squeezed it, spreading my cheeks. The freshness of the air on my most private part made me gasp.

  That made him grin, and another torrent of desire ripped through me. His eyes were dark, staring at me with unbridled lust. I pushed my hips against him, the hardness of his cock making my head swim. I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply, pushing myself down on him and wishing there weren’t so many layers of fabric between us.

  I wanted him. Badly.

  Then, I gasped as he brought his palm down on my bare ass cheek. The sharp crack of skin on skin filled the room, and the pain quickly sent a new wave of pleasure through me.

  “You know what happens to bad girls,” Garrett said, reaching a hand up towards my face to run his thumb across my lower lip.

  I whimpered, unable to form words as the power of my desire became overwhelming.

  “Do you?”

  I shook my head as he ran his thumb over my lip once more. He growled, dipping his thumb into my mouth as my lips parted to accept it. He let me suck his thumb for a moment as his eyes locked on mine.

  “Bad girls get punished.”

  Smack.

  Another sharp
crack of his palm on my ass made me cry out, Garrett’s other thumb still in my mouth. I dragged my teeth over it, letting the pain dissolve into pure pleasure. I let out another moan, rolling my hips towards him again as he slapped my ass again, three times in quick succession.

  Smack-smack-smack.

  I screamed, closing my eyes and letting my head drop back as the pleasure made my head spin.

  “Bad girls get punished,” he said again. “And they like it.”

  He grabbed my ass, squeezing it for a moment before pulling my hips towards him as he rolled his against me.

  “You think you can come in here and tell me what to do?” He growled into my ear, squeezing my ass and spreading my cheeks wide again. “Huh?”

  “No,” I moaned.

  “You think you’re the boss?”

  “No,” I moaned again, the sopping wetness soaking right through my panties.

  “You think you’re anything other than mine?”

  I gasped then, opening my eyes and staring at him. His eyes were burning dark and low as he stared into mine. He nodded, giving my ass a gentle tap.

  “You’re mine, Morgan Matthews. From this moment on, you’re no one else’s.”

  I gasped, my chest heaving up and down as I reached down between us to run my fingers over the bulge in his pants. When my hand covered it, my eyes widened and I stared at him, gasping.

  Garrett chuckled, one hand on my ass and the other tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “That cock is the only cock you’re going to get from now on. You got that, baby girl?”

  His eyes were blazing. His hand stroked my ass cheek as he growled.

  “You”

  Smack

  “Are.”

  Smack.

  “Mine.”

  Smack.

  I didn’t know why, or how, but his words sent my body careening towards the edge. He hadn’t even touched me. My pussy was just barely brushing against him, wet with the incredible desire that he’d ignited inside me. I screamed just as he caught his lips between mine, moving his hand from my ass down the front of my panties.