Perfect Ten: A Rockstar Romance

by Kelley R. Martin

  “Stop talking. Now.” Laura manages to get him turned around, and he scowls as he marches off set.

  “Where’s Caroline?” he asks, ripping off the rest of the sound equipment.

  It takes me a second to get my tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth and my feet unglued from the floor. “I’m right here.”

  Everyone’s eyes land on me, making me wish I hadn’t said anything at all.

  If Ten says he wasn’t with anyone else, then I believe him. But it looks like I’m the only one, based on everyone else’s expressions.

  They’re either looking at me like they feel sorry for me, or their eyes dart away so fast it’s like they can’t bear to watch the trainwreck happening right in front of them.

  Embarrassment seeps into me unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I wasn’t even this mortified when Good Morning America announced to the whole world that I was a stripper.

  Ten grabs my hand and leads me out of the green room. We weave past people in the hall until we arrive at his dressing room, where he slams the door shut behind us.

  He runs his hands through his hair, pacing. He looks seconds away from putting his fist through the wall when he stops and faces me.

  “You believe me, right? Tell me you believe me, Caroline.”

  I nod, still dazed. Still hurt, even though I know he didn’t do anything wrong.

  “Say it,” he says desperately, cupping my face in his hands as his eyes search mine. “I need to hear you say the words.”

  My brows slam together as tears sting my eyes.

  “Baby, don’t cry.” Ten sounds panicked as he wipes at my cheeks. “I didn’t touch them, I swear.”

  Sniffling, I push him away. “I know you didn’t, but the whole world thinks you did.”

  “So?” He brushes my hair behind my ear. “Who gives a fuck what they think?”

  “I do. I’m not used to millions of people scrutinizing every little detail of my life. I’m not used to cameras being shoved in my face everywhere I go.” I bite my lip before admitting, “I don’t know if I’m cut out for life in the spotlight.”

  Frowning, Ten stiffens. “What are you saying?”

  I don’t know. I just know that I hate this feeling.

  I hate that people we’ve never even met have opinions on our marriage. It’s none of their fucking business.

  And I really hate that there’s a whole industry dedicated to making it their business.

  My shoulders slump as I sigh. “Maybe we rushed into this.” I know we did, but maybe… Maybe it was a mistake.

  “No. No.” My eyes lift at his insistent tone. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Caroline, and I’m not giving up on us. I’m not losing you,” he says, threading his fingers through mine.

  Unshed tears well in my eyes. “What if I’m not enough?” I whisper. “You’re Tennessee King, and I’m—”

  “Fucking perfect.”

  He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, stealing my breath and replacing it with his. Every brush of his lips, every sweep of his tongue melts my worry and doubt away until all I feel is that connection, that sense of home I’ve never felt with anyone else.

  We might’ve rushed into this, but it wasn’t a mistake.

  Something that feels this right just can’t be.

  When he pulls away, he rests his head against mine. “It occurred to me the other day that I didn’t even ask you to marry me.”

  My mouth twists into a smile. “No, you didn’t.”

  Ten steps over to the black leather couch and rifles through the duffle bag sitting atop it. He pulls out a small burgundy cube and pops it open, revealing a huge glittering engagement ring nestled inside.

  My hand flies to my mouth as I gasp. Ten smiles as he pulls it out, dropping the box on the couch before walking back over to me.

  “I love you, sweet Caroline.” He takes my hand in his and slides the ring onto my finger, until it joins my wedding ring. “I know you’re supposed to say that before you get married, but we’re not exactly a conventional couple. And if you’ll let me, I’d really love to spend the rest of my life being unconventional with you. What do you say?”

  Smiling through my tears, I stare down at the sparkly cushion cut diamond sitting on my finger and laugh. “You still didn’t ask.”

  “And I’m not going to.”

  I look up at Ten, damn near bursting from happiness. “It’s too conventional for you?”

  “No. I’m just not going to give you the chance to say no.”

  He leans in and kisses me again, my pulse skyrocketing into overdrive. “When have I ever said no to you?” I breathe against his lips. The word’s not even in my vocabulary when it comes to this man. “And aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee?”

  “Baby, if I get down on my knees it’s gonna be to lick your pussy until you come all over my face.”

  My pussy clenches, like she’s completely on board with the idea.

  Groaning, I push him down onto the couch and slowly lift my sundress, giving him a little striptease as I slide my panties off. Ten licks his lips and undoes his jeans so fast it’d be funny if I weren’t so turned on.

  I straddle him on the couch, pulling my dress up as I lift my hips. I watch him grab the base of his cock and glide his pierced tip along my wet folds, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine as he lubes himself with my arousal.

  When I feel him poised at my entrance, pressing hot and hard against the tight opening, I sink down onto his cock. My breath catches as I impale myself on his wide girth, stretched so tight it almost hurts.

  “Fucking hell.”

  His hands clamp down on my hips, his head thrown back in ecstasy as I envelop every thick inch of him. I’m so full of his cock I can barely move at first.

  All I can manage is grinding against him, which rubs my clit along the base of his shaft. My breathing stutters. My clit’s not the only thing getting rubbed.

  Ten’s piercing massages me from the inside, hitting that sweet spot that makes my pussy gush, and makes my movements frantic and uncoordinated.

  It’s too good. I’m not going to last long, but I don’t want this to end.

  Not now, not ever.

  Ten starts thrusting underneath me. Slow at first, plunging his cock in and out of my wet pussy so leisurely it’s driving me mad with need. He leans me back so he can watch, slamming his brows together.

  “It never ceases to amaze me how much of my dick your little pussy can take. I was so sure I’d split you in half the first time I fucked you, but you fit me fucking beautifully,” he murmurs before speeding up.

  He grips my hips and jackhammers into me, the rough, jarring thrusts sending my impending orgasm into the stratosphere. White-hot bliss blooms from my pussy and spreads outward, making me scream. I clinch around his cock as he fucks me mercilessly, spurned on by the teasing rub of his piercing against my g-spot.

  Ten bellows as he bucks under me, drenching my pussy in thick ropes of his cum. It floods me, warming me from the inside as I grind against him, wringing every last bit of my orgasm from him.

  My heart’s racing when I finally collapse against him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

  He gently pets my hair. “I know you do. Your crazy matches mine, remember?”

  His phone vibrates in his pocket a second later, and he groans when I climb off him so he can get to it. Ten rolls his eyes when he reads the screen and hands it over.

  It’s a text from Sawyer.

  Some groupies I hooked up with are trying to pass off pics of me fucking them as pics of you. You’re lucky I’m well-endowed or I’d just let people think you’re the one with the tiny dick.

  He follows it up a second later with a laughing-so-hard-they’re-crying emoji.

  “Does that mean he’s gonna tell the press it’s him in those photos?” I ask as I hand the phone back.

  He snorts. “Those photos must really be flattering. I’m su
re he wants everyone to know that’s his monster dong in those pics, not mine.”

  “You’re not exactly lacking in that area.”

  Ten grins. “Should I change my last name to ‘Inches’?”

  He cuts off my laugh with a kiss, dragging me back across his lap. When he pulls away, he touches his head to mine.

  “When this tour is over, I’m buying us our own fucking island,” he vows. “No interruptions, no paparazzi, no bullshit…”

  I smile. “Sounds like heaven.”

  EPILOGUE

  Tennessee

  SIX YEARS LATER...

  “What about Tank?”

  Caroline laughs, making her whole belly shake. “We’re not naming him Tank. Tank King? Tanking?” She pushes the words together, forcing me to see her point. “No.”

  I scoot down the bed, pushing her nightgown up over her stomach. She’s so fucking beautiful right now, all big and swollen with my son. I run my hands over the curve of her belly, pressing a kiss to her skin.

  “But it’s such a badass name,” I say wistfully.

  The little guy kicks my hand, like he agrees.

  “See? He likes it.”

  She rolls her eyes and opens her mouth, probably to argue with me or tell me I’m a fucking moron, but something behind me catches her attention. Caroline smiles brightly. “Morning, sleepyhead. Want to come say hi to your little brother?”

  I look over my shoulder, seeing Kennedy stand in the doorway. One hand rubs her tired eyes, while the other clutches her favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Sparkles.

  She crosses the room and climbs into bed with us, wedging herself between her momma and I.

  Caroline got pregnant with her almost immediately, and Kennedy was born a week before our first anniversary. We decided to raise her in Nevada, away from the spotlight of LA, but also because we wanted our daughter to grow up with a real grandmother.

  My folks see her maybe twice a year, and they always send boatloads of presents on birthdays and Christmases, but it’s not the same as actually being around. I’d rather have their presence than their presents.

  Story of my life.

  That’s why I’m so thankful for Lorraine—or Mimi, as Kennedy calls her. She’s there for all the milestones and adores our daughter just as much as we do. We even built a guesthouse out back so she could be close by—and so Caroline would stop worrying about her living alone.

  Kennedy loves having her Mimi so close, and we love having an extra set of hands on deck. It’s win/win.

  I push her bangs out of the way and kiss her forehead. She’s got the same shade of hair that I do, but the rest of her is all Caroline. She’s got the same green eyes, the same button nose, and the same heart-shaped lips. She’s gorgeous, just like her mother.

  In about ten years, that’s going to be really inconvenient.

  Kennedy holds her purple unicorn tight, looking skeptically at Caroline’s round belly. “How much longer till he’s here?”

  “About a month. Are you excited to meet him?”

  “No.” Her little nose scrunches. “Boys are gross. Why didn’t you make him a girl, Mommy? I want a sister, not a brother.”

  I’m all for trying to get Kennedy a sister. Hell, I’m all for trying to get Kennedy ten sisters. Caroline’s never been more beautiful to me than when she’s carrying my child. And our kid is fucking awesome. I’d be more than happy to have an army of Kennedys.

  Or Tanks.

  Caroline brushes Kennedy’s long mess of curls. “It wasn’t up to me, baby.”

  “Was it up to Daddy?”

  Caroline glances at me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Sort of.”

  I shrug. She’s not wrong.

  “C’mon. Let’s go get some breakfast and let Mommy sleep in a little.”

  Caroline smiles and mouths “Thank you,” as I lean in and kiss her.

  I’m a pretty hands-on dad, but there are limits to how much I can help out with a newborn since I don’t have, you know, milk coming out of my nips. I’m trying to let Caroline get as much rest as she can before this little guy comes.

  When we get down to the kitchen, I lift Kennedy and set her on the island. “What do you want for breakfast? Rainbow cereal?”

  She nods.

  I grab the Fruity Pebbles out of the pantry and start making her a bowl. It’s not the healthiest breakfast, but it’s definitely a “dad” breakfast. After six years of domestication, I still can’t cook for shit.

  Some things never change.

  After I pour milk onto her cereal, I set the bowl beside her. She takes a big spoonful and shovels it into her mouth, mumbling around it, “Can I stay home with you?”

  “You don’t want to go to school?”

  She shakes her head, clutching Mr. Sparkles tight.

  “Why not?” Kennedy’s loved kindergarten so far.

  I, however, miss having her around all day, every day. I think I took Kennedy’s first day of school harder than Caroline did.

  It’s also going to make touring a little more difficult, since I refuse to be away from my family. When she was little, we could just load her onto the bus and take off. But now that we have to work around her school schedule, summer’s going to be the only time we’ll be able to tour.

  Three months isn’t a lot of time to fit in traveling all over the world.

  Swallowing her cereal, she says, “There’s this boy in my class named Braden. He tripped me yesterday and everybody laughed at me.”

  My jaw clenches, and I have to remind myself that I can’t kick a five-year-old’s ass. “What did Mrs. Fincher do?”

  “He did it when she wasn’t looking.”

  The kid probably has a crush on her. Boys have a terrible way of showing it.

  Some men do, too.

  Well, this is unsettling. I thought I had a few more years until I had to worry about boys chasing my daughter.

  Guess I should start shopping for that shotgun now...

  Leaning my hip against the granite counter, I cross my arms. “If I let you stay home with me today, then what about tomorrow? You gonna stay home then, too?”

  “Can I?” she asks, looking hopeful.

  I laugh. “No, baby. Running away from your problems doesn’t solve them. It just makes things worse. Next time he tries something, stand up to him. Or tell your teacher that he’s bothering you.”

  She looks thoughtful, like she’s weighing what I’ve said. Eventually she shrugs and takes another bite of her cereal. “Braden’s a turd and I’m gonna flush him down the toilet.”

  Spoken like a true King.

  My mouth mashes into a hard line to keep from laughing. I probably shouldn’t make my five-year-old think it’s funny to call people “turds,” even though this Braden punk sounds like a real piece of shit.

  I lean down and kiss her head, proud that she’s got a strong, independent streak like her mom. “Atta girl.”

  THE END

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