Falling: A Sexy Alpha Romance Collection

by Nina Levine

  His intense stare doesn’t waver as he answers me. “I had to be sure I’d see you again.”

  I’ve never had a man look at me the way he does. It’s want, need, and hunger all wrapped up in appreciation, and I want to bask in it forever. I never want him to stop looking at me like that. And I sure as hell don’t want him to ever look at any other woman like that. Shit, jealousy has reared its ugly head, and I don’t even have a reason to be jealous. I’m fucked if I ever do, and if I date him, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of reasons.

  “Did you think I’d not make good on my promise of a date?”

  “Wasn’t taking any chances,” he murmurs as his eyes shift to look behind me.

  “Hey, Presley,” a voice behind me says and I turn my head to find Hunter looking at me.

  “Hi, Hunter.”

  “So, you’re gonna photograph us tonight, huh?” he says.

  “It would seem so,” I answer him but move my gaze back to Jett. He’s watching me again with that intense look. His body is tense, and he seems to be on edge a little. I’m not sure why.

  “Can’t wait to see what you come up with.” He gives me a warm smile and lifts his chin at Jett before leaving us.

  “Do you really want me to take photos?” I ask Jett, unsure of his intentions.

  “Hell, yes. I asked around about you and have heard amazing things about your photography.”

  “Who’d you ask?” I’m keen to know who recommended me.

  “I asked a photographer we’ve worked with before. Shane Nichols. You heard of him?”

  “Holy shit! Shane recommended me? He’s one of my inspirations. I love his work.” Jett would have no idea what this information means to me. I’m blown away Shane would recommend me, let alone even know who I am.

  “Yeah, he did. He said he’s been following your career for awhile now and loves your work. Also said you have a very unique style to your photography.”

  “You do realise I haven’t done concert photography, don’t you?”

  His intense stare finally gives way to that grin of his I’m beginning to love. “Yeah, but seriously, with what I’ve heard about your skills, I’m sure you’ll come up with some amazing photos.”

  His belief in me is unexpected but appreciated. Hell, when your own husband didn’t have unwavering belief in everything you did, it’s almost mind blowing for someone you’ve just met to show it.

  “Thank you,” I say softly.

  He grabs my hand and begins walking us down the corridor. “Come on, let’s get you set up,” he says, and my initiation into his world begins.

  Jett watches me as I survey the stage. We’re standing to the side of it where roadies are busy with the finishing touches to get it ready for tonight. “You’re nervous about this, aren’t you?”

  I turn to him. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “In the photography I specialise in, I have full control over the models, the lighting, and the angles I can shoot.” I motion toward the stage. “With this, I have no control over any of that. There’s also the clutter to take into account.”

  He seems fascinated with this. “What do you mean by clutter?”

  “Things like microphones, stands, cables, amplifiers, scaffolding in the background, lighting rigs… those sorts of things. And then if I’m photographing, say you, and I have the shot all lined up but then another band member jumps into the shot…that kind of thing is another issue.” I smile at him. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m really looking forward to this, but I’m nervous I’ll let you guys down.”

  “Presley, I’ve no doubt you’re gonna do a spectacular job. You won’t let us down, so please stop worrying about that. Just listening to you talk shows me that you know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  His words calm me a little. My nerves have already started to ease. Having the time to check the stage out and come up with some ideas has helped me with that, and I silently thank Hunter for his compulsive need for everyone to be here hours before the concert begins.

  “Jett,” a guy calls out from the stage.

  He turns to see who is calling for him, nods at the guy, and then looks back at me. “That’s our lighting tech, so I need to see what he needs. Are you okay on your own?”

  I nod and give him a reassuring smile. “Go. I’m all good.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you backstage after the concert,” he promises before jogging to where the lighting tech is waiting for him.

  I watch him for a little while. He seems to have a lot of control over how the concert will run, and I’ve gotten the impression he takes charge of the band a lot. So far, though, I haven’t seen any evidence of that being an issue for anyone. They seem to naturally defer to him when a decision needs to be made. I like his take-charge attitude, but the thing I like about it the most is he leads rather than controls. There’s nothing worse than being told what to do with little regard for what you want.

  A couple of hours later, I’m fully into the swing of this. The concert is packed and the energy is electric. Jett and the guys know how to deliver a show, that’s for sure. And their fans eat it up. They love the band in a way I’ve never seen before. I’ve been to a lot of concerts, but Crave draws the crowd in and makes them feel like old friends. And their music is amazing. I can’t believe I’ve never heard it before. I really do need to get out more.

  I started off a little rocky, but I quickly worked out what I was doing. After spending some time watching each band member and learning their idiosyncrasies, I worked out the best shots to aim for. Jett has this way of leaning away from the mic during pauses in songs, so I’ve managed to capture that pretty well, I think. Van is the lead guitarist, and he and Jett have this chemistry on stage that creates some great photo ops. I’ve been able to capture their dynamic really well, and I can’t wait to see how the photos turn out. And then there’s Hunter on the drums and West on rhythm guitar. I got some great shots of the both of them, too, and I’m quietly confident all my photos will turn out well and the guys will be happy with them.

  As they wrap the concert up, I take in their fans. It’s pretty clear they’ve loved every minute of it, but at the same time are disappointed it’s over. I can relate for a couple of reasons. Number one, I think I’ve fallen in love with photography all over again, and I could keep going for hours. And number two, there’s a backstage party after the concert, and I really don’t want to go. Hanging out with groupies is the last thing I want to do.

  5

  Presley

  Me: I kicked ass.

  Michael: Knew you fucking would. Thank god my ass is spared.

  Me: No your ass is still on the line because now I’m at the after party and these people are nearly as bad as those fucking models I hate.

  Michael: Leaving town now…

  “What are you laughing at?” Jett asks as he comes up behind me and slides his hands around my waist. They settle on my stomach, and I look down taking that sight in. I like it. A lot.

  “I wasn’t laughing.”

  His chin rests on my shoulder and his warm breath feathers against my neck as he speaks, causing a new rush of desire to pool in my stomach. “Not on the outside, but I can tell that something has amused you,” he says.

  I debate whether to be honest with him and then think to hell with it. I’ve never censored myself for anyone before, so why start now? “I was just texting my agent and told him I am going to kick his ass for this job.”

  “You didn’t enjoy it?”

  “No, I did enjoy it. I just don’t care much for the people at your after party. I told him they’re almost as bad as the models I’ve been subjected to for years.”

  A voice booms from beside me. “Oh yeah, they are.” It’s West. “I totally agree with you there, babe.” I remember the day I met him at the airport. He flirted with me enough to piss Jett off, but even then, I could tell he was only doing it to rile Jett up. I don’t know him, but Wes
t seems to care for Jett a lot.

  Jett’s hands tighten around my waist, and he pulls me closer to him. “Don’t you have a groupie to entertain, West?” His voice is deep and growly as he asks this, and I can feel his body has tensed up.

  “Calm the fuck down, dude. I’m not after your woman, but she’s cool to talk to. You think you can handle it if I just talk to her for a bit?”

  I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing, and West winks at me.

  Jett straightens and he repositions me so I’m pulled tight against his side, his hand firm around my waist. “Yeah, I can handle you talking to her, but seriously, take your fucking eyes off her body.”

  West shakes his head and pins Jett with a glare. “You’ve never cared before.”

  “Yeah, well I care now.”

  They glare at each other for a few moments and then a scantily-clad woman sidles up to West. She gives me a filthy look as she puts her arm around him. “West, you said you wouldn’t be long, but you’ve been gone for ages. Are you coming back now?” Her voice has that breathy, sexpot tone to it, and I take an instant dislike to her. I don’t care what anyone says, women like that give the rest of us a bad name.

  West rolls his eyes and removes her arms from his body. “No, I’m busy.” He doesn’t tell her to leave, but his tone speaks volumes, and she understands it. Scowling at me, she huffs and then saunters off.

  “Why is that my fault?” I’m pissed and have to restrain myself from following her to give her a piece of my mind.

  West chuckles. “Because you’ve got my attention and she hasn’t. Clearly, it’s your fault.” He throws a wink in while he says this.

  “I like you, West. And that’s saying something because I dislike most people,” I tell him.

  A huge smile spreads across his face. Looking at Jett, he says, “Don’t fuck this up, asshole. She likes me, and I like her, which is more than can be said for all the other women you chase.”

  Jealousy rears its ugly head again. I hate this feeling and am reminded why I said I’d never date a rock star again. The constant state of wondering and worrying your man will stray is something I don’t want to have to deal with again.

  I can hear the scowl in Jett’s voice as he replies, “Fuck off, dickhead, and stop flirting with her.”

  West holds his hands up in a defensive movement. “I’m out of here.” His gaze shifts to the door, and his eyes light up. “Fuck me, I’m gonna tap that tonight,” he says and heads off in that direction.

  Jett and I turn to see who he’s talking about, and I’m impressed to discover West has taste. The woman he mentioned has a classy look to her rather than the slutty, groupie look.

  I swivel in Jett’s embrace so I’m looking up at him. Smiling, I say, “West seems like a cool guy.”

  The scowl is gone from his face. “Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

  “So, all that stuff about him flirting with me was just mucking around?”

  “Mostly.”

  “What does that mean, Jett? I don’t want to come between friends.”

  He pulls me tighter to him. “You won’t come between friends, but West has this tendency to flirt with every woman he meets, and if he keeps that shit up with you, he and I will have a problem.”

  I’m surprised by his words. We’ve known each other for less than three days, and from what I’ve worked out, Jett doesn’t date. So, I’m left wondering why he’s gone all territorial over me.

  “Jett!” Van, the other guitarist in the band is stalking towards us with a foul look on his face.

  “Fuck,” Jett mutters under his breath.

  Van stops in front of us, his hard stare focused on Jett. “What the fuck is this fundraising dinner you’ve agreed to?”

  “It’s to raise funds for cancer research. I thought you’d be all over it after what your mother went through.” His voice is tight, controlled.

  “Yeah, but why the fuck would you sign us up for it when you know full fucking well who else is going to be there? I told you I never want to see that motherfucker again.”

  Van is radiating anger, his green eyes flashing with wild intensity. He’s all edge and jaggedness, and I’ve seen the women flock to him tonight. Van’s pure rock star with his dark, shaggy hair, piercings, tattoos, and couldn’t-give-a-fuck aura.

  “When I signed us up, I didn’t know who would be there, and we can’t back out now.”

  Van looks ready to explode with his anger and rakes a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” He turns and takes a couple of steps away from us before looking back at Jett. “If shit goes down there, it’s not my fucking fault,” he declares and then stalks out of the room.

  “Fucking hell,” Jett mutters and lets me go. He rubs the back of his neck, and I don’t say a word because it’s clear he needs a moment. Once he gets himself under control, he says, “Sorry about that.”

  “No need to apologise.”

  The air is still tense around us as he calms down. Then he grasps my elbow and begins walking us to the door. “I need to get out of here,” he says more to himself than to me, and I follow wordlessly. I have no problem with leaving this party. I didn’t even want to be here in the first place.

  As we pass through the door, people slap Jett on the back and say goodbye. He’s not interested, though, and doesn’t respond to any of them. His intent to get us out of here fast is obvious.

  He stalks through the corridors and leads us outside to a waiting limo. Without a word exchanged, he indicates for me to get in and I do. He still seems a little worked up about his run-in with Van.

  As he settles on the seat next to me, he leans back and drops his head onto the headrest. Pushing out a long, heavy breath, he says, “Jesus, I could do without some of this shit today.”

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  Angling his head to look at me, he replies, “Not really.” His hand slides around my neck and he murmurs, “I just want to kiss you and get inside you again. You good with that?”

  I nod and he doesn’t give me a chance to say anything before his lips come down on mine. I moan into his mouth. His kiss delivers bliss as if it’s being injected straight into my bloodstream. The effect is intoxicating, and I want a never-ending supply of his drug.

  He ends the kiss and pulls away so he can watch as he slides his hand up my top to cup my breast. His eyes shift to mine, and our gazes stay connected while his hand pushes my bra cup aside so he can tweak my nipple. When his entire hand covers my breast, I feel it in my core. His gaze is still focused on mine, and that alone is enough to cause want and need to spiral through me.

  Oh god, I have to have him now.

  I move so I’m straddling him, and press my lips to his. I kiss my desire into his mouth, and he groans as I press my pussy against him. He’s so hard, and I can’t wait any longer for him. I pull away and breathe out, “Condom?”

  He reaches into his pocket for his wallet and gives me a condom. “You gonna fuck me, sweetheart?”

  I rip the foil packet open and unzip him. There’s no time to waste, and I have his cock in my hand a second later and roll the condom on. “Yeah, baby,” I say as I strip my pants and panties off. And then I straddle him again and push myself down onto him. He sucks in a breath as he fills me, and I watch as his eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

  “Feel good?” I ask as I move up and down his length. If it feels as good for him as it does for me, we’re both in for a good time.

  His eyes open to look at me. “Yeah,” he grunts and then moves his hands so one grips my neck and the other takes a hold of my hair. Pulling my hair, he commands on a growl, “Don’t fucking stop. Your pussy is like paradise on fucking crack.”

  His dirty words work me up even more, and I fuck him with a relentless pace. We’re both chasing this, needing the release. Sweat slicks our skin as we careen towards heaven. As it starts to hit, I bend my head and bite his shoulder, swallowing the scream I can’t deny.

  “Fuck!” He bucks underne
ath me and comes. His head leans against my shoulder as he surrenders to it.

  I ride it out, wringing every last drop of what he’s giving me. When I’m done, I sag against him, exhausted. We stay like that for a while until he eventually lifts his head and says, “Fuck me, Presley, you know how to fuck.”

  “You sure know how to compliment a girl,” I tease him.

  “Just calling it like I see it.” He winks at me and lightly slaps my ass. “Where are we at with that addiction of yours? Have I fulfilled that promise yet?”

  I kiss him before giving my answer. “What do you think?”

  That wicked grin of his lights up his face. “I’d say we’re doing a damn good job of it, sweetheart. But just to be sure, we’d better keep at it.”

  I grin back at him, which is so unlike me. It seems with Jett, I do all the things I never do with anyone else. “I think we should.”

  And just like that, it’s settled. I’m going to let Jett have his way with my body all night. I’m going to put all my hesitations about him out of my mind and enjoy all the pleasure he gives me.

  6

  Presley

  I wake up to sunlight streaming in the window, the rays fanning out across me on the bed.

  Jett’s bed.

  We ended up here after the concert, and he spent hours worshipping my body. I didn’t get a good look at his apartment as he was so intent on ripping my clothes off and getting me into his bed, but from what I could see, it’s modern and sleek. He doesn’t have a lot of personal touches like photos, paintings, and plants, so it’s not the kind of apartment I would live in. I wonder how often he’s home, though, to even notice.

  Rolling over, I find him on his back, still asleep. This is the perfect opportunity to admire his beauty, and I let my gaze roam over his body. His abs are perfectly chiseled and I wonder how many hours he has to spend in the gym to achieve that. And his V? Fuck me, I’ve never seen one so defined and so fucking delicious. I trace my fingers lightly down it, and he makes me jump when he growls, “You better be ready for me to fuck you if you’re gonna do shit like that, sweetheart.”