Rock Star's Ballad (White Mist Series Book 3)

by A. P. Jensen

  “I’m glad we could give you this,” Valerie said quietly and glanced at the closed doors of the recording studio. “He’s wild, but he can be tamed. Regan Lee settled with Brooks and she’s happy. You and Johnny can have that too.”

  “Thanks for everything,” Demi said.

  Paula and Valerie nodded and paused at the front door and looked back at her.

  “Its kind of late,” Paula observed.

  “Uh, kinda,” Demi agreed, confused.

  “You like pasta?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s an Italian place in town. Best pasta and garlic bread. I’ll call and have them deliver. Twenty minutes tops.”

  “But I—”

  Paula pointed at the recording studio and then at Demi. “Make tonight count, yes? Twenty minutes, Demi.”

  With that, both women left. Demi stared after them and tugged on her hair. No wonder Regan was a nut. These women were maternal, selfless, bossy and intuitive. Demi turned to examine the living room, sighed, and then went upstairs to shower. She was standing in front of the mirror, examining her peach colored nightgown that stopped at mid thigh. It was a lot sexier than the cotton nightgowns she wore since she arrived in White Mist. She was about to pull it off when she heard the doorbell. She cursed and ran downstairs. Johnny was kicking the door shut when she hit the last step. He paused with a bag of takeout in his hands. She resisted the urge to run back upstairs as her body flushed with heat. When Johnny didn’t move, she walked forward, trying to play off the nightgown. Johnny regularly got propositioned. Her nightgown must look as covered up as a trench coat to him, she told herself.

  “I hope you like pasta,” she said.

  “It’s fine,” Johnny said and looked beyond her to the living room.

  “You like it?” she asked nervously.

  Johnny set the food on the table and walked into the living room. He sat on the couch and put his feet up on the new coffee table. She was glad they hadn’t gone with hand crafted since they all knew what the men would do. Johnny lounged back on the new pillows with his arms stretched out and took in the paintings, new vases, mason jars with flickering candles and rug.

  Demi walked over, trying to figure out his mood. “Johnny?”

  He turned his head and grinned. “Why do pillows, rugs and candles make it feel like home?”

  He got it. She relaxed.

  “I have no idea, but I love it.”

  He got up, nodding. “Are they gonna do the bedrooms?”

  “I, uh, I don’t know. They put a mirror in the hallway and nightstands in the master bedroom.”

  “Have them decorate the other rooms when they have a chance.”

  Demi clasped her hands, relieved and happy that Johnny liked it. She could only imagine what Valerie and the others could do to the rest of the house. Painted ceiling? Knowing Johnny, he would paint it red or something. She bit her lip to keep from laughing as she imagined Valerie’s horrified look. She looked up when Johnny stopped in front of her.

  “You like them?” he asked.

  “Who?”

  “Everyone. Regan Lee, Valerie, Paula, Missy, Allison?”

  “I love them. They’re so nice.”

  “You’re happy?” Johnny asked suddenly.

  Demi blinked. “Well, yes. I’m relieved you like what we did.”

  “I’m not talking about the house, I’m talking about everything.”

  Johnny looked almost angry and the change in his mood felt like a slap in the face. She mentally braced herself. Maybe Johnny needed some space and she was getting in the way. She took a step back and he scowled at her, the easygoing man she cried on over the past couple of days nowhere in sight.

  “I-I am, but I can look for an apartment tomorrow and—”

  “Why would you do that?” he snapped.

  “I don’t want to get in your way.”

  “Who said you’re getting in my way?”

  She waved her hands nervously. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to take care of me. I’m fine—”

  Johnny closed the distance between them and clasped her face between his hands. His face was drawn into hard lines as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. “You don’t want anything more from me?”

  Demi’s breathing became heavy and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Johnny’s calloused fingers moved over her skin and she shivered. His tongue slid against the seam of her lips and then retracted. She bit back a moan.

  “I wanted you from the moment I saw you in the crowd at Madison Square Garden.” Johnny shook his head. “It’s fucking unbelievable because you’re even better than I remember.”

  Demi didn’t know what to say.

  “I know it’s too soon, but I need—” He broke off and released her, running his hands through his hair. He looked lost, desperate and pissed.

  Demi stood immobile for a long minute, staring at him, her mind running a million miles a minute. She wasn’t sure what was happening between her and Johnny, but she knew one thing—she wanted him. It had been thirteen years and that hadn’t changed. She was drawn irrevocably to him and she’d never gotten over him. It was a fact she’d known and never acknowledged. There were so many reasons to walk out the door, but Demi didn’t. This time, she would follow her emotions. Even if it led to heartache, she would rather feel temporarily than not at all. Demi ran at him. Johnny caught her up in his arms.

  “Thank fuck,” he growled and rushed up the stairs, jostling her roughly in his arms as she laughed. “You’re sure?” he pressed even as he kicked open the door to the master bedroom and set her on the bed.

  He loomed over her and she grasped his face as he had hers. She kissed him, pouring all she possessed into it. It was too soon, too intense, too irresponsible, but she didn’t care.

  “I want you,” she said.

  Johnny bared his teeth in a feral grin before he stepped back and stripped out of his shirt and jeans. Yes, he still went commando. Johnny had a lot more meat on him than he had when he was a teen and damn, he was hot. Her hands itched to run over his tattoos and her mouth went dry when she saw that his cock was fully erect. She was so busy watching the way the tattoos moved over flexing muscle that when Johnny grabbed her ankles and yanked her to the edge of the bed, she yelped in surprise.

  “Johnny?”

  “Need to taste you. If I put my cock in you, I won’t last. Have to make you come first,” he growled.

  “Oh,” she breathed and braced herself on her elbows. She watched as Johnny knelt and tugged on her panties. She lifted her bottom and he swiftly yanked them off and tossed them over his shoulder. He spread her thighs and didn’t hesitate as he put his mouth on her. Demi jolted and immediately tried to clamp his head between her thighs. Johnny pinned her wide and she jerked as his beard brushed against the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs. His tongue slid over her lips before sliding between and she bucked.

  “Holy shit,” she panted and watched his head tilt to the side and his tongue went deeper. She’d never been with a man who had a beard. She’d definitely been missing out. Johnny slid a finger into her as his tongue touched her clit. She let out a strangled scream when he suckled her.

  “Johnny!” she panted, hand scraping against his head. His hair was too short for her to grip, so she tugged at the covers instead. It was too much. She tried to scoot away from him, but he gripped her hips and kept her pressed against his mouth.

  “Come for me,” he growled and his fingers thrust roughly into her and curled.

  Demi bucked as an orgasm tore through her. She clamped his head between her thighs and screamed as she undulated against him. Her body bowed and quivered and when she collapsed, mind a blank slate from the climax, Johnny settled over her.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he said and framed her face before he kissed her.

  She could taste herself on him. His hand gripped her chin, demanding entrance and she obeyed even as he slid his cock inside of her. She
dug her nails into his back as her insides stretched to accommodate him.

  “You can take me, baby. This is where I’m supposed to be,” Johnny panted as he slid in to the hilt. He kicked his head back and let out a long moan that made her tighten around him.

  Several days ago, she watched him perform on stage and lusted after him along with thousands of other women. They fantasized about giving him pleasure, of holding onto him even for a short time. Right now, he was hers. She put that look of ecstasy on his face. Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, he rested his forehead on hers as he moved slowly inside of her.

  “I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmured.

  “You have?” Her hands moved down his back, over his sides and dug into his ass, making his hips jerk.

  “Greedy, Demi?” he asked with a pained smile.

  She wasn’t sure how her body could possibly be ready so soon after an orgasm. Maybe it was thirteen years of wanting him, but she needed this, needed him. “Yes!” She reared up and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and nipped it.

  Johnny ground his hips into hers and she gasped, releasing his lip.

  “You can take it rough?” he panted, looking down at her. “I don’t want to hurt you. Your ex—”

  “Is history,” she interrupted, not wanting to bring that into their first time together. “Take me.”

  “Wrap your legs around me,” Johnny ordered.

  She did so without hesitation, heart racing.

  “Don’t look away from me,” he commanded and she nodded as he began to move.

  Johnny’s eyes were liquid black as he thrust into her with such force that she bounced on the mattress. She was greedy for everything he had to give. He wasn’t a diffident lover, he was animalistic and raw and she lost herself as he claimed her.

  “Who am I?” he grated down at her.

  “Johnny,” she gasped, closing her eyes as pleasure ripped through her.

  “Eyes open!” he barked, sweat trickling from his forehead. “Who do you belong to, Demi?”

  “You,” she panted. “Johnny, please!”

  “And who do I belong to?”

  She frowned, unable to comprehend his question and he stopped. “No!”

  His hand collared her throat and brushed over her racing pulse. “Who do I belong to?” he hissed.

  She panted beneath him, hands scrabbling over him desperately. “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” Johnny growled and kissed her. “Always you.”

  Johnny thrust into her with bruising force and she moved with him, needing to climax, needing to be bound to him. His eyes were blind with need as he gripped her hips. Demi began to contract around him and he jerked his mouth to hers as she screamed his name. Johnny’s eyes bored into hers as he came, whispering her name before he collapsed over her.

  Chapter Eight

  “Better than my dreams,” Johnny said.

  He gave her a sweet kiss, slipped off the bed and came back with a warm washcloth. She didn’t make a sound as he cleaned her up. She blinked in surprise when he put on jeans and pulled her upright and slipped her nightgown back on.

  “What are you doing?” she mumbled as he hefted her out of bed. She lazily wound her legs around his waist as he walked out of the bedroom.

  “Living room. Food.”

  “I’m not wearing underwear.”

  “That’s deliberate, baby.”

  Johnny settled her on the couch and grabbed the bag of takeout. He opened all the trays and made them each a plate. She sat in the corner of the couch, her favorite spot, and took the food gratefully. They ate in silence and her eyes moved over the room again. She felt happy, sated and warm. If only she could pause her life right where it was at this moment…

  “The day you came after me,” Johnny said and her attention jerked from the mason jars to his face. “I was in too deep. I knew when I married Rose it wouldn’t last.”

  The warmth she felt was replaced by bitter cold.

  “When you broke up with me, I couldn’t think straight. You were my best friend and the only one who supported me. That day, I not only lost you, but the only family I ever had. Your mom, she was amazing. When I came back to New York, it was home because you were there.”

  Demi started to get up from the couch, but he set his plate down with a clatter and turned to her. He caged her in the corner of the couch with his body.

  “We’re going to lay down our cards, Demi,” he said, voice low and threatening.

  She pushed at him. “I don’t know why you’re bringing this up!”

  “Because it’s our history and it hurt us both. We have to lay it out so we can move past it. You’re gonna hear a lot of shit about me. I won’t lie to you and you need to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Where my mind was at, where it’s been. I learn from my mistakes and I know the difference between mindless sex and you. So, we’re going to talk about it. All of it.”

  Her eyes glittered angrily as they met his. “Fine. Talk.”

  “Tell me the truth. Did you break up with me because of your dad?”

  “Partly.”

  “And you love your family more than anything, so you gave me up for them.”

  Her chest was suddenly tight. “Yes.”

  “You should have trusted me,” Johnny said.

  “I believed you’d make it, Johnny,” she said fiercely. “You know I believed in you, but I wasn’t built for a life on the road. I can’t live in a van or bus. I need a home. I needed my family. I loved you, but we didn’t fit in each other’s lives. Dad was right about that.”

  “I didn’t see it coming. It nearly killed me.”

  She clasped his face between her hands. “I’m here now.”

  He pressed a kiss into her palm and relaxed a little. “The morning after I got married, I was thinking of you. I opened the door and there you were. You hugged me, said you loved me, that we could try again. All I could think was it was too late. I felt Rose come up behind me. She knew all about you. I called out your name in my sleep. She thought she was helping me by causing that scene. I’d done so much fucked up stuff since we broke up that I couldn’t take you back. I had nothing to offer, just like your dad said.”

  She flinched. “Johnny—”

  “You were both right. I did all the shit I said I’d never do. I drank myself to sleep, popped pills, slept with any woman that wanted me. I was so empty. Even when the money started rolling in, it didn’t matter. I always had money from my parents. I thought Regan was like all the rest, but she had such fire.” Johnny’s mouth twitched. “And how can I forget a woman who put itch powder in my pants? Shit. She woke me up. She didn’t care how much money I had or how many people worshipped me. If she thought I was a jerk, she told me. If I didn’t get it, she found a way to make her point.”

  Demi sensed his pain. The easygoing persona was a facade. He had money, fame, looks and was one of the most unhappy people she’d ever met. Even now, he exceeded his goals, but the boy who had been abused and abandoned by his parents was still present.

  “I couldn’t think of a damn thing to write for a new album. I heard about this songwriter that could work miracles. I went to New York and met Gwen. I didn’t even have to talk. She just looked at me and said, ‘So, you want to write a song about heartbreak?’ I told her I just had sex that morning and she shook her head. ‘This ache is so old, you don’t even know you’re carrying it.’ God, that burned.”

  Johnny closed his eyes and sagged to his knees, his arms on either side of her. He tugged her to the edge of the couch, nestled between her thighs and rested his face on her chest.

  “Gwen helped me write an album straight from my soul. I never released it because they were all ballads and they weren’t for the world. They were for you.”

  “Johnny, stop.”

  “The album nearly destroyed me. Gwen didn’t ask who the songs were about and she never pushed me that deep again. She knew I couldn’t handle it. She helped me
write what I told her I wanted to so I didn’t need to feel.”

  “You’re killing me,” she whispered.

  He tipped his head back to meet her eyes. His were stark with such vulnerability that she looked away.

  “Look at me, Demi.”

  She did so, blinking back tears.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  She shook her head and his grip on her tightened.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” he repeated firmly. “There’s been a hole in my chest since we walked away from each other. When I saw you in the audience at my concert, I didn’t care about our past. I don’t care about it now. All these years, I thought you hated me and there you were, standing right in front of the stage. Nothing could have stopped me. I gambled hard that night and sang that song for you. If you were indifferent and cold, it would have killed me. Instead, you cried and I could barely finish the song. You were there and you cared even after all these years. I didn’t care if you were married. That wouldn’t stop me. The fact that you wanted a fresh start in a small town and just got out of a relationship? God gave you to me gift-wrapped. I didn’t need to tell Gwen who you were. I brought you into my home and Regan Lee did the rest. They know why I’m the way I am even though I’ve never said it out loud.”

  “Johnny, stop,” Demi pleaded.

  “The only place the pain went away was when I was on stage. I went on tour after tour, some lasted two years. I finished and didn’t know what to do with myself. I followed Regan here, watched her get back with her high school sweetheart and settle. She made me Chase’s godfather and the pain faded a bit. Trey finally woke the fuck up and noticed Gwen when they were on tour, made a fool of himself at the CMA’s and suddenly both of my girls were married. I wasn’t as restless when I was here, not with Regan Lee and the family. They accepted me into the fold, gave me keys to their houses, welcomed me in. You can’t live here and not think of family. I couldn’t get you out of my head. I refused to look you up. I didn’t know what I’d do if I found out you were married and had kids.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she whispered, “Johnny.”