Dirty Rock: A Rock Star Romance

by James, Vicki

  “Getting in or what?”

  With a sigh, I dumped my bag into the boot of her car, and I made my way to the passenger seat, trying to shake off the heavy hangover that was floating above my eyelids. I pulled my own sunglasses out and pushed them in place. It was a surprisingly bright day, considering we were in the middle of a British winter. The warmth and delights of LA now long behind us.

  “Seatbelt.” She chucked her chin.

  I did as I was told, silently asking her with a raise of my brows if we were good to go, before she put the car into gear and began driving away. The seat beneath me became warm after a few minutes, and it made me relax and tip my head back against the headrest… a small groan falling free.

  “Feeling rough?” she asked quietly.

  “Permanently.”

  “It wouldn’t kill you to lay off it for a few days.”

  “I’d die of boredom around here. I’m already exhausted from this mundane way of life.”

  “It’s hard to slide back into normality, isn’t it?”

  “Terrifyingly so.”

  Julia huffed out a soft laugh and changed gear as we hit a country lane.

  She made driving look sexy.

  Unless I got to screw her out of my system, I was up shit creek without a paddle.

  “You know you’re driving me crazy, don’t you?” I said, watching her face react to my bluntness. Her cheeks pinked slowly.

  She cast me a glance. “Should I feel bad about that?”

  “I can tell that you don’t.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t think we’re making a big mistake here.”

  “We’re just taking a drive, Jules.”

  Her shy smile turned into a toothy grin that made my chest ache. I’d spent years on the road with Julia. The band and I had relied on her for so many things, expected her to prop us up when we were falling everywhere, and pick us up when we’d gone too far… I’d forgotten that she was a beautiful woman in her own right. A woman oozing with sex appeal. A woman with desire of her own. She wasn’t a part of the band behind the wheel of that car. She was a gorgeous creature any fucker would be lucky to hold in his hands.

  “Tell me something.” I paused. “Had you always wanted to fuck me before you knocked on my hotel room door that night?”

  “Maybe,” she answered with a little sigh.

  “Shit, I thought you’d at least try and lie.” I chuckled.

  “Lying has never been my forte. If I can’t speak the truth, I prefer to stay quiet. You’re a good-looking guy. You’re talented, too. Mix the two together, and any woman would be having thoughts. Unfortunately for you, those daydreams were usually drowned out by your stupid decisions over the last three years. Spending time cleaning up your mess made me see you differently.”

  “What changed?”

  She glanced at me as we hit an open piece of country road, her scowl in place.

  I leaned closer. “What made you come to me?”

  Julia focused on the road ahead, her hands tightening around the wheel. “I was sad. I knew you were sad, too. You’ve been sad for a while, Rhett. I thought that we could be sad together for a night.”

  “I’m not... sad.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  “Well, good. I’m glad about that.”

  I slumped back in my seat. Why the fuck was every idiot and their dogs throwing misery my way all of a sudden? We lived an unconventional life—one that kept us away from reality. Finding the right balance of rock ‘n’ roll wasn’t something you were born with. It was an education you had to give yourself, and just like any form of learning, some days and nights were harder than others.

  “Hey.” She reached out to place a hand on my thigh. My gaze dropped to that point of contact—her perfectly-painted red nails resting on my jeans like they belonged there. It didn’t feel wrong. It was comforting, almost. “No more talking about the tour. No more going over that night. No more sad talk.” I looked up just in time to see her beautiful smile breaking free. “Maybe we both just need a night off from the circus. A night for you to be Rhett, and for me to be Julia. I’ll show you the real me if you relax and show me the version of you you try to hide all the time. What do you say?”

  “I say okay,” I whispered, feeling my voice hitch in my throat.

  Excitement tore through me. There was more adrenaline in that car beside Julia than when I was out on stage looking at a sold-out Hard Rock Stadium.

  We rode through the English country roads together making idle conversation as we listened to Pearl Jam—one of my favourite bands in the entire world—and not once did I think about what we were missing by being away from the Youth Gone Wild.

  The crowds.

  Or the bright lights I’d got used to standing beneath.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was dark by the time we pulled up outside our destination. Julia had a smug smile on her face when she turned the engine off and killed the main beam that had been lighting up the building in front of us. We were, literally, in the middle of nowhere. Her Audi sat in a car park with only a few other vehicles surrounding us. The warehouse I was staring up at looked like some kind of new-build that made cheap plastic toys or Card Factory Christmas crap. It was grey, apart from a blue streak of colour in the guttering and drainpipes.

  “What is this place?” I asked, ducking my head to look up through the windshield. “A warehouse?”

  “It’s a place for peace. Privacy.”

  I gave her a look. “Have you brought me to a sex club, Jules?”

  “Little man, you couldn’t handle my kinks.”

  Julia had kinks? Christ, I wanted to know each and every one of them, no matter how disgusting they may have been.

  She reached into the back seats and pulled out a black cap. “Put this on.”

  “I thought you said this place was private?”

  “That doesn’t mean you won’t get attention I don’t want you to have. Do as you’re told, Rhett.”

  Before I could argue, she’d reached for her door handle and stepped out of her car. She walked around to the front of it and gestured for me to join her with a simple tilt of her head. I put my cap on and tugged on the peak to make it a comfortable fit. When I went to stand in front of her, adjusting the waistband of my black skinny jeans, Julia looked up at me. She reached to tuck the sides of my hair back—I really did need to get the sides shaved again—and the tender gesture and feel of her nails against my scalp made the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

  Her eyes roamed down to the grey T-shirt I was wearing before she ran her hands down the sleeves of my denim jacket.

  “If you keep touching me like this, you’re going to need to take me somewhere with a bed,” I told her quietly.

  “I’m not that easy, Sinatra.”

  She took my hand in hers and pulled me along. I couldn’t stop looking at the way our fingers entwined—mine, rough and blunt, while hers were delicate and soft. She felt so precious in my hold, and a wave of protectiveness washed over me. There was also a weird stirring in my lower stomach that had nothing to do with desire or sex. Hand holding was an intimacy I’d never stumbled upon before, and I suddenly didn’t know how the fuck to feel about any of it.

  We came to a stop in front of a small, black side door when Julia glanced back at me. “Did you ever have a favourite band growing up?”

  “Too many to mention.”

  “Don’t laugh when you find out who mine were.” She smiled softly, and it lit up my damn heart. Whoever her favourite band were, they were now mine, too.

  She pushed through the door, flashed some ID to a big, beefy security man, and we walked through a plastic barrier that acted as some kind of draft excluder. What we saw on the other side was unimaginable. Bright lights flickered across a huge dance floor in the centre of a high-rise warehouse. Neon pinks, greens, yellows, oranges, and blues took over the entire space. Artificial palm trees had been set up around t
he place to make it seem like we were in the middle of The Caribbean, and on the far right wall ran a huge stage with the simplest of backdrops—a massive white sheet that had neon graffiti across the middle of it.

  PEACE. LOVE. UNITY. DANCE. SOUL. MUSIC.

  The words were spread out; each one a different colour, and in front of that big, basic backdrop, was a band. Drums. Guitars. Percussion. And about eight different men each sitting around on stools or standing idly as they waited for their turn to play. In the middle was a man who had to be in his fifties, and he was holding a microphone to his mouth as he sang along to Bob Marley’s Waiting in Vain.

  There were no more than a couple of hundred people scattered around the place. I glanced over to one of the bars that had been set up like a cart from a market stall. There were signs above several different ones, offering rum, beer, whiskies… the list was endless.

  I must have looked how I was feeling because Julia’s victory laugh forced me to blink and glance down at her with parted lips.

  “Pretty special, isn’t it?” she said with eyes of magic.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s an escape. The real world doesn’t exist here.” She began to lead me forward again. I was growing fond of being led around by this woman.

  “I had no idea you were a fan of reggae.”

  “That’s because you don’t know a damn thing about me except for the size of my tits, Rhett.”

  “34B?”

  She glanced back at me and rolled her eyes. “32C.”

  “My favourite,” I sighed dreamily.

  A few people nodded to Julia as they passed her by, but they didn’t even glance at me or question who I was. That feeling of invisibility was new after so long of feeling like I had a neon sign over my head.

  “Julia… baby!” an older man—definitely in his sixties—cried as we approached a bar. He had pure white hair, a slightly darker beard, and he’d definitely eaten one too many home-cooked meals in recent years. His gut hung over his jeans, but Julia embraced him like he was a long lost relative of hers.

  “Geoffrey, hey,” Jules cried.

  “Lady, I swear you get prettier every time I see you.” He held her arms out, and she swayed her arse in time to the slow rhythm of the song playing. Geoffrey made her twirl, and she did so with effortless grace before he grabbed both her hands again. “Your pops would be so proud.”

  Pops?

  “Thanks, G,” she said shyly.

  “How is Bobby?”

  Jules looked awkward before she answered with a bright smile and a shrug. “Living his best life, as always.”

  “That’s B.” Geoffrey laughed. “And it’s been too long since we saw you here. What’s that all about?”

  “Oh, you know. Work, work, work, and touring with the band.”

  “Those arseholes still being difficult?”

  I coughed to clear my throat, bringing a fist up to my pressed together lips as I let my brows rise and do the talking for me.

  Julia didn’t look even a little bit embarrassed as she turned to face me. “Geoffrey, this is Rhett. The biggest arsehole of them all. Rhett.” She raised a brow of her own. “This is Geoffrey. A good friend of mine.”

  I dropped my fist and chucked my chin. “Hey, man.”

  He studied me for a moment, taking me in from head to toe and back again before he looked back at Julia and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. She threw her head back, laughing, and it made me frown like shit. I was about to step forward and ask him what his problem was when he released Julia, stepped towards me, and he held out his hand.

  “Welcome, Rhett. This your first time here?”

  “Yeah.” I shook his hand. “I didn’t even know this place existed.”

  “Invite only. You advertise this vibe to the world, and they’ll crush it with cheap drunks, nasty drugs, and a mass-market of modern-day bullshit. Has Jules read you the rules yet?”

  “No, sir.”

  His smile lit up at my use of sir. “No drugs. No fighting. No arguing. No frowns. No dissing the music. No questioning the staff.”

  “That’s a lot of nos.”

  “We’re all about peace, love, and unity here, my boy. You kids have a good night.” He gave my shoulder a simple yet firm tap and glanced back at Julia to offer her a wink before he walked away.

  Julia looked at me, waiting for my reaction. I had none to give. I was pretty sure I’d stepped into an alternate universe.

  “You think you can handle those rules?” she asked.

  “I’ll be a good boy if you’ll be a naughty girl.”

  Her laugh seemed genuine and carefree, and I realised I was beginning to live for the sound of that gentle happiness falling from her lips. She wasn’t a woman who deserved to drown in misery. She deserved to be like this, right here in front of me, full of pink cheeks, pursed lips, and twinkling eyes. She deserved to be serving her own life instead of ours.

  “Let’s get a drink,” she suggested. “I have a feeling being naughty could prove easy tonight.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  She’d taken her jacket off and so had I. The two of us sat on high rise bar stools next to a fake palm tree that had a ledge for drinks wrapped around the middle. Our knees were touching as we laughed, joked, and talked about life on the road. Every time Julia ran a hand through her hair to move it away from her eyes, I twitched to do the same—to push my fingers through the thick of it, hold it back, and stare down into her eyes.

  I, however, was trying to play it cool.

  I wasn’t sure whether it was because she was slightly older or because she was a part of the band we couldn’t afford to lose, but around her like this, I was actually fucking nervous. The rum and Cokes were putting me at ease just enough for me to not make a total dick of myself. Though, why I cared, I didn’t have a clue.

  Julia’s curves swayed to the music as she lost herself to it. Even sitting down, with one leg crossed over the other, I could tell she had a natural rhythm. Her thick, heavenly thighs pressed against her tight jeans, and the belt at her waistband made her stomach look tiny as she twisted with the lyrics pouring out. She was free here.

  It made me think back to all those times on tour when she’d seemed so stiff. So rigid with her life. No one took their job more seriously than her, and that wasn’t to be messed with. The woman in front of me had the same face, sure, but that was where the similarities ended. This one was more alive—liberated—and she had a smile that lit up the room like she was the sun in the Caribbean herself.

  “You want to know something?” I leaned closer and dropped a hand to her knee. “I think I’m acquiring a thing for older women.”

  She glanced down at my hand, and a look of something washed over her face. I hoped like Christ it wasn’t doubt because I was using every ounce of strength I had to hold myself back. I was going to screw this woman until she couldn’t walk.

  “I’m not going to ask you if that’s okay. It has to be. You wouldn’t have brought me here if you didn’t want what I want.”

  Her eyes rose to my mouth, and they lingered there as I bit down on my bottom lip and dragged it through my teeth.

  “Get on your feet, Rhett,” she ordered.

  That wasn’t the response I’d been expecting.

  Julia lifted my hand and held it in hers before she slid off the stool and tugged on it. “Feet! I’ve seen you on stage. I know you know how to use them… and your hips.”

  “You want me to dance?”

  She nodded, her lips pursed and pouting with amusement. “I want you to move with purpose. I want to see you dance, use your hips, and be a part of something you’ve never experienced before. Now… feet.”

  She swayed her arse from side to side to the slow, sensual reggae beats, creating a natural figure of eight that the likes of that rotten Candy would have made look sleazy. Not Jules. Jules made it look like she was born to gyrate in those tight little jeans as she swayed to the sound of UB40’s Ho
mely Girl.

  “Remember me warning you about my favourite band?”

  “UB40. Seriously?” My lip curled of its own accord.

  Julia closed her eyes, and her head and shoulders moved to the beat. That was her response. That and the way her lips pressed together, and the most edible smile rose into her cheeks.

  I sighed and watched her lead me to the dance floor. She held onto my hands and turned to me with the brightest smile. It was like me being there lit her up, and it made a weird tightening sensation form in my chest. Perfect white teeth framed by luscious lips, high cheekbones, and a petite little nose I wanted to press mine against.

  Stay focused, Rhett.

  Imagine her naked.

  This is just sex.

  Julia let me go, and my hands fell limp by my sides, while she raised her arms in the air and mouthed the words of Homely Girl.

  The lyrics sang that she was a beautiful woman.

  Damn, they weren’t lying.

  She wasn’t trying to be anything other than she was. Julia didn’t care whether I laughed at her, mocked, joined in, or skulked off to cry in a corner. This was her little piece of heaven, and in her eyes, I should feel damn lucky to be invited in.

  That chest of mine tightened again, and I cleared my throat.

  The sound made her step closer to me. She didn’t say a word, and she didn’t stop swaying those hips. She raised my hands in the air and looked down at my feet as she guided me into a lazy two-step even the most uncoordinated chimp could follow. I bent my legs, let the rhythm take over, and I joined her in a dance.

  I was taller than Jules, meaning my arms didn’t quite get as high as hers, but from up here, the view was magnificent. The outstretching of her limbs made her T-shirt pull tight over her pert little breasts, drawing my attention down to them for a fraction of a second before I looked back up into her eyes.

  I’d not had a hit of coke all night, but I was experiencing a kind of high that hadn’t ever floated through me before. I was being poisoned by her scent, her sparkle, and her favourite fucking songs.