Hard Rock Tease: A Rock Star Romance (Darkest Days Book 1)

by Athena Wright

  “Yeah, sort of.”

  It wasn’t the enthusiastic response I’d hoped for.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve posted anything you don’t like. If you want me to take something down, just let me know.”

  “No, it’s all fine. It’s just…” Jayce trailed off and gave me a considering look. “There’re a lot of music reviewers out there, but there’s one I’ve been following for a while. I kind of expected you to post the same kind of stuff she does.”

  “What’s her name? Maybe I know her. The music scene is pretty incestuous sometimes.”

  “The guys know I’ve got this hard-on for some girl on the internet,” he continued, ignoring my question. “They teased me about a musician being a groupie himself. I stopped talking to them about it, but I kept on reading her stuff, even after we hit it big. She’s insightful. I wanted to message her, but I was worried. Her reviews are always so carefully unbiased. Sometimes I can’t tell whether she even likes my music or not. She’s so smart and funny, though. I always thought it would be amazing if I could meet her in person. Get to know her.”

  My heart clenched in a fit of pique. He had such glowing words for this girl. I didn’t want to hear Jayce talk about another girl like that, even if she was just someone he followed online.

  Jealousy filled my chest, but I stomped it down viciously. I had no right to feel that way. Jayce and I were just work colleagues. He was free to have a crush on whomever he liked.

  “I think it’s because I stopped talking about her that the guys haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “Figured out what?”

  Jayce looked amused.

  “Aimee Lee. Ailey. AudioAiley.”

  I choked. “What?”

  His eyes caught mine, trapping me in that fiery gaze. “I’ve been following you for years.”

  My mouth gaped open, trying to process what he had said. Jayce followed me online? He had wanted to meet me? He didn’t think I liked his music? I didn’t know which part to react to first. The music reviewer in me took over.

  “How could you possibly think I don’t like your music? You’re amazing, you’re a genius, you’re—”

  “I’m just another musician,” he interrupted.

  “You’re not just another musician. You’re Jayce Evans of Feral Silence. You’re not like other artists. You’re special.”

  He shifted on the concrete steps, looking uncomfortable.

  “That’s what all my fans think. I’m grateful to them, I really am, but I’m never going to have a normal life. I’ll always have to play the rock star god. Sometimes I wish I was just a regular guy.”

  “Why? Why would you want to give all this up?”

  Jayce turned to me and reached out, cupping my cheek to draw my face close to his. “Because then I could do this.”

  Then he kissed me.

  Chapter Seven

  I barely had time to register the stroking of his fingertips against my skin before Jayce pressed his lips to mine.

  I inhaled a sharp breath and held it, frozen in shock. He seemed to pause, as if waiting for me to protest or pull back. I didn’t. I just waited, anticipating his next move, not wanting to ruin this moment, not wanting to wake up from this dream.

  Jayce’s lips were soft but firm, pressing against mine incessantly, not hesitant at all. He smelled like leather and earth, a musky masculine scent that drove a spike of heat through my body.

  He licked the inside of my upper lip, seeking entrance to my mouth. I gave it to him, his tongue slipping in and exploring the wet heat. I moaned at the touch of his tongue to mine and clutched at him, fingers scrambling for purchase on his bare front. My hands slid down his chest, feeling the shifting of every firm muscle. His skin burned under my fingers, reflecting the heat growing inside me at his scorching kiss.

  Jayce tangled his hand in the hair at the back of my neck and tilted my head to get a better angle. I succumbed to it, going limp and letting him take me however he wanted. He bit my bottom lip, teeth nipping lightly, the sharp sting breaking me out of my haze. My breathing stuttered, and I almost pulled back. What were we doing? What was he doing to me?

  He laid one hand on my thigh, caressing and squeezing before moving it upward, and all intent to flee rushed out of me. I couldn’t pull away from him, from his touch, not even if the building burned down and fell into rubble around us.

  He explored the shape of my hip and the curve of my waist before continuing onward to my chest. He curled one large hand around my ribcage and stroked the side of my breast with his thumb. My breath hitched as he found a nipple through my shirt and thin cotton bra. He circled it slowly until the nub was raised into a sharp peak, visible through my blouse. I let loose a sharp gasp into his mouth. He let go of my hair to repeat the process on the other side, rubbing and stroking until I was breathless with need.

  Jayce finally released my mouth, but continued kissing my cheeks, behind my ear, the curve of my jaw, and, finally, my throat. The barest hint of his stubble scratched my skin and I relished the sensation, savoring the roughness.

  He pressed his lips against my racing pulse. His lips seemed to curve up into a smile, and I knew he could feel my rapid heartbeat. He flicked his tongue out to taste, and I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped.

  He silenced the noise with another blistering kiss, tugging me closer with one arm. My breasts pressed against his chest and our legs tangled together. He gripped me tight around the waist, shifting me up and over until my knees were on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He continued kissing me the whole time, crushing my lips with the intensity of it.

  I sighed out another small sound of pleasure as the palm of his hand drifted from the small of my back to the swell of my ass. He cupped me, lifting me to press my body close up against the zipper of his pants. My skirt rucked up around my waist and I could feel the hardness of him through my thin cotton panties. I throbbed with need, wanting to feel him against my bare skin, soft and iron-hard at the same time. I shifted my hips and bucked against him, pushing up harder against his front. He gripped my hips on either side, pressing me down onto him. I rocked my hips back and forth, wanting more, wanting to rub myself all over him like a cat in heat.

  Jayce let out a growl into my mouth before tearing himself away. He placed his hands on my shoulders and held me at arm’s length.

  “I’m sorry,” he rasped out, breathing hard.

  “I’m not complaining.” I continued to grind my hips against his.

  He stifled a groan and leaned forward, resting his forehead against my neck. I pulled back, worried, trying to see the expression on his face, but he ducked his head away from me.

  “What’s wrong?” I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders. Instead of continuing the embrace, Jayce lifted me up and off his lap. I made a small sound of disappointment, not wanting to let him go, not wanting the moment to end yet. He settled me beside him on the cold, hard concrete steps, tugging my skirt back into place for me.

  “I shouldn’t have done that.” He put his head in both hands, mimicking the same position I’d first found him in.

  I stared at the back of his head. My heart was still racing. My lips were still stinging. There was a fire burning within me that I couldn’t extinguish—not without Jayce to help me. I wanted to pull him back down to meet my lips again.

  Cold seeped through my skirt, chilling my thighs and helping to cool me down. I started to shiver, bereft of Jayce’s touch, of his body heat. I slowly came down from that fog of desire. Now that I was free from the feel of his hands and the taste of his mouth, I could think clearly again.

  Jayce was right. We shouldn’t have done that.

  “If the fans found out, they would freak,” he muttered, addressing the floor, head cradled in his hands. “They’re so possessive. Every time there’s a rumor that we’re dating someone, the girl gets terrorized.”

  I thought back to the year before and slumped down, letting my limbs fall limply onto the co
ncrete stairs, arms at my sides, legs splayed out in front of me. “I remember when rumors started about Kell kissing one of the make-up girls. Fans went crazy. They figured out where she lived and sent her hate mail and bomb threats for months. We can’t have a repeat of that. Not now, when your tour is just getting started, when you’re ramping up for your album release.”

  “I don’t want you to be a target of their hate. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” Jayce exhaled slowly, collecting himself. “This can’t happen again. I promise I’ll be strictly professional from now on.”

  I wanted to tell him I didn’t want it to be strictly professional between us, but I knew better. As much as I hated it, I knew he was right.

  “I like you, Ailey. The more I get to know you in person, the more I like you. But more importantly, I respect you. I respect your work. I don’t want you to think I’m just some rock star looking to hook up with a groupie.”

  A thrill of delight worked its way through my body and I suppressed a smile. Jayce liked me. Hadn’t he said he liked me online before he’d even met me?

  “That’s why this will never happen again.”

  Despite myself, my chest clenched with hurt. Now that I’d gotten a taste of Jayce, I didn’t want to give him up. I wanted to peel back the layers, wanted to discover who he really was when he wasn’t on stage. I wanted to bask in his touch and see what pleasure he could bring me.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  “No need to apologize. I understand.” I flashed him a smile, hoping I was able to mask the sadness washing over me.

  Jayce was right. This couldn’t be good for either of us.

  No matter how right it felt.

  Chapter Eight

  I threw myself into my work as a distraction from what happened with Jayce.

  It was difficult. The concert venues blurred into each other, one looking the same as all the rest. Frustration became a constant companion. It was hard to take interesting and unique pictures when the backdrop looked the same wherever we went.

  Getting a peek behind the scenes sounded cool until you realized every backstage looked the same: bare hallways, a few offices, and a couple rooms with comfy chairs and sofas for the artists to relax in. It wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world. I mostly stuck to taking pictures of the guys.

  Rehearsal was done, and the concert wasn’t for another few hours, so I took a bit of a break. One of the make-up girls and I had become friendly acquaintances, and she always had recommendations for me. She was giving me her opinion on which new brand of mascara I should try when that jerk walked toward me, the assistant producer who’d scowled at me to get out of his way without so much as a please or thank you.

  “Hey Gabriella, is that guy really on the film crew?”

  He still wasn’t wearing a staff badge. For all I knew, he was the groupie sneaking in to see the band.

  Gabriella raised her eyebrows. “Are you kidding me? You don’t recognize him?”

  “I ran into him on my first day, but he was kind of an asshole. Why, who is he?”

  “That’s Cornelius Conner. He’s one of the best up-and-coming producers. Feral Silence is lucky they snagged him. After this, he’ll probably be promoted from assistant to full producer.”

  “I had no idea. Is he known for being grumpy?”

  “I wouldn’t say he’s grumpy. He’s known for being a perfectionist. If you’re an asset to his work, you’ll stay on his good side. If you’re a hindrance, look out. And never,” she whispered as he came within hearing range, “call him by his first name. Use Connor.”

  “Excuse me,” he said, coming up to the two of us, hands in his pocket. “Do you mind if I talk with your friend alone?”

  “Sure, go ahead. I was just leaving.” Gabriella mouthed good luck as she walked away.

  “Yes? Can I help you?” I used the same words I had on the first day we met.

  “I wanted to apologize.” His blue eyes were earnest and his messy brown hair made him look tousled and unkempt. I was a bit taken aback, not expecting to hear an apology from him.

  “For?” Maybe it was petty of me, but I wanted to hear him say it.

  “For being a jerk. When I got mad at you for stepping in front of my camera.”

  “You called me a groupie.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Even though I was the one wearing the staff badge, not you.”

  He looked genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry. I was just under a lot of pressure. I only had a few minutes to shoot the scene I needed.”

  I didn’t want to leave him squirming for too long, so I uncrossed my arms and let them dangle at my sides. “Okay. Apology accepted. Although you’re going to get a bad reputation if you snap at people whenever you’re stressed.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “At least you’re aware of your character flaws.”

  He huffed out a rueful laugh. “I’m more than aware. One, I’m a perfectionist. Two, I don’t know how to delegate.” He ticked off each point with a finger. “Three, I always take on too much and end up overworked. Four—”

  “There’s such a thing as being too hard on yourself,” I said, interrupting his monologue.

  “I just want you to know that I’m aware I can be an asshole at times.” He stuck his hands back in the pockets of his tan slacks. “So, what do you do here?”

  I hadn’t expected him to ask about my job, so I blurted out, “I’m the internet girl,” before I could stop and think about how that sounded.

  Instead of laughing at me, he looked intrigued. “And what’s that, exactly?”

  “I’m in charge of posting to the band’s social media accounts. Updates, pictures, answering questions, that sort of thing. I’m the direct line of communication between the band and their fans.”

  “I know a girl who loves that stuff. She’d probably kill to have your job.” His eyes lit up, and he pulled out his phone in excitement. ”Hey, I know you don’t owe me any favors, but I want to film a scene where the guys respond to weird fan things. Like this.” He shoved his phone in my face. There was a screenshot of a fan sleeping with a body pillow. The pillowcase was printed with a picture of Kell’s shirtless body. “There’s so much junk on the internet, though, so I don’t have time to pick out the good stuff. Maybe you can help me?”

  “That sounds fun.”

  “Do you think you could gather together a bunch of outrageous stuff? We could show the guys and capture their reactions on camera.”

  “Kell and Ren would love that.” I wasn’t sure Jayce would, but no matter how he felt personally, I knew he’d pull off a typical rock star-Jayce attitude and egg the fans on to higher and crazier feats.

  “Thanks. Sorry, I didn’t even catch your name.”

  “I’m Aimee.” If his friend was into the online music scene, she might have heard of Audio Ailey, and I’d prefer to keep my alter ego a secret as much as possible. Creepy stalkers could be hiding anywhere. “And you’re Cor… Connor?” I caught myself in time. The corner of his lips twitched, and I knew he’d caught my slip up, but didn’t say anything.

  “Here’s my card. Just shoot me an email when you’ve got the content ready and I’ll squeeze it into the filming schedule. Thanks again, Aimee. I owe you one.”

  I took my phone out of my pocket and entered his email into my contacts. When he was gone, I messaged Neil.

  @AudioAiley: I guess even assholes can grow a conscience.

  It took a few minutes, but he eventually responded.

  Was someone being an ass to you again?

  Surprisingly, no. For once.

  I knew they’d see how awesome you are.

  My heart clenched. I thought Neil was awesome, too. I’d agreed to go on a date with him, after all. But I’d just been making out with Jayce. I liked both of them so much.

  And I knew just how wrong it was to feel like that.

  ***

  “KELL, WAS YOUR family into music when you were growing up?”

 
; There were a handful of cameras surrounding the guys from every direction as they sat upright in their stiff chairs. They had been placed on the empty stage where they’d be playing that night. On today’s filming schedule was a group interview. Deena and the film crew had worked together to come up with a list of questions. Some of them were the standard ones any musician might expect to answer during an interview, but they threw in a couple questions just for the guys. Deena read the answers off camera.

  Kell was a bundle of energy as always, practically vibrating in his seat and throwing wicked grins to the camera every time he managed to slip a double entendre into his answer. His blue jeans weren’t fashionably ripped for once. Instead, they were a dark, fitted denim. He paired them with a graphic tee designed with cartoon mice chasing cheese. It sounded cute, but the mice were on motorcycles with hard expressions. They looked as badass as any motorcycle club biker. I wondered just where in the hell he’d gotten something like that.

  “Yeah, my family was very musical while I was growing up. One of my first memories is of my dad sitting down and teaching me how to play a G chord on my little plastic toy guitar. He used to play in a bluegrass band with his buddies. My mom was never a professional vocalist, but she was always singing something. They really encouraged me to go for my dreams.”

  I was impressed. The guys had clearly been given lessons on how to give on-camera interviews. They each made sure to repeat the question in their answer and add a personal touch with anecdotes. It shouldn’t have surprised me how good they were at this kind of thing. Dark Sound Studios was putting a lot of money into Feral Silence. I had no doubt they had been media trained.

  I sneaked a glance at Jayce. He was steadfastly avoiding my eyes. There was a palpable tension whenever the two of us looked at each other, so we mostly tried to avoid speaking to each other as much as possible. I wondered if the rest of the band thought we didn’t get along. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Kell gave us a few looks and I wondered if he’d noticed something going on with the two of us, but I didn’t worry too much. Kell was usually too self-absorbed to notice much about the people around him.