by C. Tyler
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2018 C. Tyler
ISBN: 978-1-77339-617-0
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: JC Chute
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
I want to dedicate this book to those crazy people in my life who have always kept things fun and exciting. Without them, my world would be much more dreary.
A ROCKSTAR IN HER BED
C. Tyler
Copyright © 2018
Chapter One
September
My ears still hum from the concert as I’m led through the hall to the back room of the theater. A smile stretches across my lips, and I don’t bother hiding it when my guide opens the door. I’m immediately presented with a massive space filled with roadies, band members, and what look like old stage pieces from plays put on in the venue. For a moment, I’m invisible, but then a tall, attractive young man with nearly black hair and bright green eyes spots me. His face lights up with a smile.
“Holy shit!” he declares as he slips off a hollow boulder and jogs towards me. “Chris! The hell are you doing here?”
I meet him in stride and wrap my arms around him tightly. “You didn’t think I’d miss you guys coming to town, did you?”
“You should’ve given me a call or something, Sis.”
“And miss the look on your face? Nah!” I laugh as we part. “Oh my god, you’re so sweaty.” I push at him playfully and he laughs. I’ve missed my brother. Max, my fraternal twin brother, is the rhythm/lead guitarist of the band Diesel Weasel, and I dare anyone to say that name and not smile at least a little.
He’s been with them since the beginning, and about four years ago they finally hit it big. They composed the textbook earworm of a song that was just the perfect level of infectious. Once it wiggled its way into your brain, you couldn’t get enough, and somehow, it eventually found its way to the radio. That was just the beginning. The doors to stardom had been thrown wide open, and nowadays, Diesel Weasel is given the chance to play venues way bigger than someone’s backyard. It’s been a crazy whirlwind ever since.
Once I’m discovered, the rest of the guys come forward and offer me hugs, too. Within this sea of wild and goofy, there’s Max with the guitar, Tommy on drums, Jason on bass, and … smack! The pain now radiating through my ass is compliments of the last and final member of the group, Adam.
“Hey, sexy,” he chimes with a dimple-filled smile as he steps around after landing the sharp slap. He’s brandishing that damn smirk that makes me want to hit him. “Long time no see.”
“Asshole,” I grumble in response.
“Come on, man,” Max half-heartedly complains. “I don’t need her kicking your ass.”
Adam holds up his hands in mock surrender before shooting me a wink and stepping back.
Adam Cleary is many things, and irritating is definitely among them. The man goes out of his way to annoy me whenever I’m around the whole group, and given he’s on rhythm/lead guitar and lead vocals, he’s not going anywhere. Neither of us is, actually, so moments like this have become the norm.
He’s roughly six-foot-four, lean, good-looking, and he knows it. His chocolate brown hair is always styled in a modern version of a 1950s pompadour, his sapphire eyes are always sparkling, and his full lips are currently hidden just beneath a thick Fu Manchu with chops. The facial hair should look utterly ridiculous on any man of any age, but somehow, he pulls it off. I don’t know if it’s his inherent ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude that makes it work, or the fact that he’s relatively young at twenty-nine, but whatever the reason, he can get away with almost any fashion choice.
Adam continues to grin while I rub my ass briefly. Honestly, I think he hit me almost as hard as he could. A small part of me actually hopes he hurt his hand, but I doubt it.
“Anyway,” I sigh as I shift my attention back to Max. My smile returns almost immediately. “How’s the tour going?”
Max lets out a loud, obnoxious, almost comical groan before grabbing my arm and leading me away. He proceeds to tell me about everything: the good, the bad, and the insane. While we catch up, we’re surrounded by a swarm of activity. They guys don’t have long before they have to be on the road again for their next show, and I honestly can’t stay too long, either. But this is what life’s become. Max and I both have hectic work schedules, then tack on the fact that he lives on the East Coast, me the West, and he’s in the middle of touring, well … let’s just say, seeing one another is tricky. We take what we can get.
Eventually, I have to go, so I spend the next ten to fifteen minutes saying goodbye to everyone. I don’t know where the hell Adam slipped off to, but for the moment, I don’t care. It’s easier to concentrate when he’s not around.
“So, are you coming home for Christmas?” I ask Max as he walks me to the door leading back into the theater.
“Yeah, I think so.” He nods. “We’ll be swamped up until then, but we’ll have a couple of days off.”
“Good.” I reach forward, pinch his cheeks, and in the most ridiculous voice I can muster I add, “Mommy’s been missing you.”
He shoves my hand away and glares halfheartedly, but we both know it’s the truth. Mom doesn’t get to see us too often anymore, so she lives for family holidays where everyone can be together.
With a final wave to the guys, I disappear through the door and back into the darkened hall. As I walk down the narrow corridor without my previous guide and round a corner, someone grabs my arm. Without warning, I’m yanked into a recess I hadn’t realized I walked by. The moment my back hits the wall, someone is pressed securely against my chest.
It happens in seconds. It leaves me a little dazed until I look up and see a familiar face staring down at me with glowing blue eyes and dimples. Heat fills my cheeks, but I glower as best I can. The expression must be as weak as I think it is because he chuckles in response.
“Where’s my goodbye?” Adam asks in a low, sultry voice. He makes sure there’s no space between us and takes my hips into his hands, massaging them gently when he does. It makes my heart flutter.
“How the hell am I supposed to do that when you’re out here hiding in the shadows?”
His smile widens at my mock defiance. I’d been so busy in the back room ignoring Adam that I didn’t actually see when he slipped out. I only knew that he’d disappeared. Obviously, he used that chance to hide out in the nearly black hallway so he could grab me when I came walking by.
“Besides, my ass still hurts, so you don’t deserve a goodbye.”
“Oh,” he pouts. Adam shifts his grip until his massive hand is wrapped around the cheek he’d slapped earlier. “Did I hit you too hard?”
“Maybe,” I mumble as he leans even closer.
Adam’s lips brush over mine and he squeezes the globe of my ass firmly. “Want me to make it up to you?” he whispers in a gravelly tone.
I nod and when I do, he kisses me. I let out a soft sigh as his tongue sweeps across mine. My arms encircle his neck and hold him close as he kisses me deeply. Passionately. Any and all thoughts flee my mind the instant we’re wrapped around one another again.
His hands rove over my body, squeezing and touching everything they can. I feel like I’m g
oing to come through my skin. Heat immediately pools between my thighs, followed shortly by a familiar ache of need. It’s been too long since I’ve felt him touch me.
Suddenly, Adam lifts me into the air. On instinct, I wrap my legs around his waist, and we draw back from each other. He smirks at my stunned expression. I can’t help it––it happens every time. At 5’8”, with a job restoring houses and doing light construction, I’m well-toned. That makes me a little heavy for most guys to pick up on a whim, but not Adam. Never Adam.
Still grinning, he shifts and sets me down on a solid surface and runs his hands up my thighs. They disappear easily beneath the hem of my dress. He arches a cocky brow.
“You wear this for me?” he asks leadingly.
“Of course not.” He knows it’s a lie, but neither of us bothers pointing it out. We only have a few minutes together, and we intend to utilize every second.
When he reaches my panties, Adam doesn’t hesitate to twist his fingers around the thin lace and pull them down my legs. I shift from side to side to help him as best I can while working on his belt. Our actions are almost frantic, but they each hold purpose, as we know we don’t have long.
As I continue to work on his jeans, his belt buckle giving me more trouble than I’d care to admit, Adam reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a condom. I don’t bother asking why he has one ready to go, because the answer is probably the same as why I’m wearing a dress. Neither of us might have known for certain we’d hook up while the band was in San Francisco, but there was always a chance. As such, we were each prepared for a quickie.
The instant his zipper’s undone, Adam’s engorged dick springs free, and I wrap my fingers around it. The low groan he lets out makes my body tingle all over. When I look up at him through my lashes, I can see he’s on the brink. I close the distance between us and nip tenderly at his bottom lip, causing him to make that beautiful sound again.
He’s mine and he knows it.
“Fuck me,” I whisper before biting him once more.
A dark, deep chuckle echoes in his throat. “You only gotta ask.”
Adam claims my lips and kisses me, almost ferociously, while he slips the condom on. He pulls me close and a moment later, he thrusts into me without resistance because I’m already excited. I’m always excited when it comes to our secret trysts.
I let out a whimpered moan as I break our kiss. I try to keep it quiet, but barely succeed. We aren’t in the open, but we’re not entirely hidden, either. If one of the employees using the hall only a few feet away turns their heads just an inch to the left, they’ll see us barely concealed in the dark alcove. But, neither of us cares. We only want to feel each other again.
I thread my fingers through his hair and cradle him close while he presses his forehead against mine.
“Jesus,” he sighs. His fingers bite into my thighs as he grips me tight. I don’t know if it’s to hold me in place or keep me as close to him as possible, all I know is a set of perfect bruises are forming from the pressure.
My head races in the few seconds he needs to regain control. It’s been months since I’ve had sex with Adam, and it’s never been more prevalent than now. He’s a large man in every sense of the word, and he fills me completely as a result. “Don’t stop,” I tell him softly. I nip at his lips again and he tries to kiss me, but he can’t manage. “Adam…”
He lets out a sigh when I say his name, and that seems to be what gets him to finally move. Slowly, but surely, he withdraws from my depths, and when he nearly reaches his limit, Adam thrusts forward again. Another soft gasp leaves my lips when he does.
It takes only a moment before Adam finally finds a rhythm. Soon, he’s slamming into me as hard as his position will allow, and I’m left reeling. Another string of strangled moans leaves me no matter how hard I try to bite down on them.
Adam’s heavy breaths and grunts fill my ears as he continues his assault, and I love the way it sounds. There’s something undeniably alluring about knowing deep down that you’re the reason someone else is so turned on.
With each thrust, I feel the tension build inside my body. Every muscle is beginning to tighten as I’m pushed closer and closer to my end. No one has ever made me come as quickly as Adam has before. I don’t know if it’s his good looks, his overconfidence, his constant teasing, the way he touches me, or a combination of it all that pushes me over the edge, but something does.
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Fuck, Adam.” My words are almost frantic. “Don’t stop.” I grip his shoulders tightly, digging my fingernails into the fabric of his jacket and hold on for dear life. When one of his hands slips beneath my dress and finds my sensitive clit, I’m lost. My body ignites and my head is thoroughly cleared. I feel my orgasm wash over me and without meaning to, the sounds of my elation break free. Almost the same instant, Adam’s other hand clamps down over my mouth to stifle the cry of pleasure. It barely works.
I’m left trembling around him as he works feverishly to his own end. A moment later, he succumbs with a subdued grunt and growl. I feel his body tense and his grip on me does the same. His fingertips dig into my cheeks and his shoulders slump as he comes.
Seconds pass before the two of us have calmed almost completely. My head falls back against the wall, and Adam finally lets go of my face while his head drops to my shoulder. I thread my fingers through his hair again and stroke his scalp tenderly. Neither of us wants to move right away, but we also know we can’t linger.
Reluctantly, Adam stands upright and begins the almost torturous task of pulling out of me. I sigh my relief when he steps back and immediately bring my legs together again. He chuckles smugly as he adjusts himself. I glare back, but I know the look holds no power whatsoever.
“You’re still all sweaty,” I finally say in a voice that reveals my satisfaction. Adam meets my gaze with another arrogant smirk tugging at his lips. I hate that I like the way it pulls at his facial hair and the dimples it creates in his cheeks.
“You like it,” he teases. I do, but I’m not about to tell him. I wish I knew why, but that musty scent of him covered in sweat after playing a full set is attractive as hell. It takes more concentration than I care to admit to keep from lunging forward and running my tongue up the length of his throat, just for a taste.
As he snaps his belt buckle into place, I reach for my panties. Evidently, they’d clung to my left ankle, which is actually helpful now since I don’t have to bend over to get them. After slipping my legs through, I stand up and pull them on the rest of the way.
“You coming to our show in L.A.?” he asks as we finish straightening ourselves.
I don’t bother hiding my disbelief. “No,” I answer in a tone to match.
“Why not?” He actually seems a little surprised by my response.
“That’s a six-hour drive,” I reply with a slight laugh, “on a good day.”
“Aww, come on!” He flashes me a charming smirk. “It’d be fun.”
I give him a small, sarcastic smile. “I know,” I admit. “But I actually have a job here. So, that’d be a no, Adam. Sorry.”
He shrugs and smiles once again as he steps forward. Adam snakes an arm around my waist, pulls me close, and gives me an impressive kiss before we say goodbye. The entire tryst takes less than ten minutes, but it still leaves us both a little breathless and weak in the knees.
I head back down the hall and glance over my shoulder briefly to see Adam doing the same in the opposite direction. An almost wicked smile takes my lips. For a while now, Adam and I have been sneaking around in the shadows. The first time we crossed that line was a few years ago at the release party for their first official, studio-produced album. Everyone had gotten a little drunker than they should have, and flirtatious honesty followed suit. As soon as we were alone, one thing led to another, and we had sex for the first time. Ever since, whenever we cross paths, Adam and I hook up again.
And we love that no one knows about us. There’s something enjoy
able about the teasing, mocking, and schoolyard insults we sling at each other, because it adds another level to our fun together. Like, we can take the frustrations of our mildly clashing personalities out on each other when we’re alone, or something. I wish I could actually pinpoint the reason why it works for us to fight, but also have such great sex. I just can’t.
But admittedly, there’s a real-world reason for the secrecy, too. Max would lose his mind if he knew Adam had ever touched me, obnoxious ass-slapping aside. Let alone half of what we’ve done together in private. Max has always been protective of me because not only am I his little sister, but after our dad left when we were kids, Max took on the ‘man of the house’ role. As a result, he’s always been super critical of the guys I’ve dated, and while he loves Adam like a brother, it really wouldn’t matter. If anything, that might make it worse.
Besides, Adam and I are the definition of casual. We’re not dating, nor do we ever plan to. We just like to play whenever we can. No strings attached is our deal. We’re both completely aware that’s how we fit together. We’d never be good in a relationship, anyway––nor have we been with others in the past. So we don’t even entertain the idea. It’s the perfect arrangement.
Chapter Two
December 23rd
Wisconsin in the winter. God help me. When I was eighteen, I moved to California for college. I’ve lived there ever since, only returning home for visits over the holidays. Now, I’m suffering for it. After ten years in a much warmer climate, I no longer have anti-freeze running through my veins.
Mom happily teases me for it, too. Ever since I arrived two days ago, she gladly compares me to a little trembling Chihuahua every time we leave the house. She’s not entirely wrong. For some reason, I just can’t seem to get warm enough.
