(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  “You look good. The platinum is perfect for your character, and I love the clothes the wardrobe stylist chose for you.”

  “Thanks. You look great too.” The jean jacket, crisp white T-shirt, faded jeans, and scuffed biker boots were just right for his bad-boy part, lending an edginess to his boyishly handsome looks.

  “I’m nervous about today.” His full lips flattened. “It’s always a challenge to get the characterization right at the beginning.” His expression turned entreating. “Do you mind running through the lines?”

  “Of course I don’t. I’m nervous too.” I glanced down at my shiny red pumps as I made the admission.

  I’d lied. It was more than nerves with me. It was nerves, plus all my unsettled feelings about Max, my stepfather, the lawsuit, Fanny, and Ernie.

  I sighed.

  “Hey, I saw your test shots.” Zachary came close and slid a finger under my chin to lift it. “You’re going to rock this part.”

  “You’re going to rock yours too. Everyone’s talking about it. I’m honored to be working with someone of your caliber. You’re the one with all the experience. I’m totally out of my league.”

  “Experience doesn’t mean shit when the camera loves you.” He shifted closer, framing my face with his hands and staring down at me. “Your charisma reaches out and grabs you from every celluloid strip. There’s this hint of vulnerability in your gaze. An invitation in your smile. And your curves . . .”

  As he lowered his gaze, the air grew heavy. His eyes were hooded when they met mine again.

  “I have a boyfriend,” I said, and I did, even if he wouldn’t acknowledge me publicly.

  “I have a girlfriend. I wasn’t trying to get you to sleep with me, though if you offered, I certainly wouldn’t turn you down.”

  Zachary gave me a double-dimpled grin guaranteed to melt the panties of most of the girls in the Northern Hemisphere. But not me. I was partial to deep vertical grooves of amusement.

  “Does amazing things for my ego to have Zachary Flynn saying flattering things to me,” I said, deflecting.

  “Truth, not flattery.” His dimples deepened, and I smiled. Zachary was a harmless flirt. “IG moment.” He slid his cell from his pocket and snapped a photo of the two of us with his arm draped around me.

  “So, the lines.” I cleared my throat and stepped back to put some space between us while he returned his cell to his pocket.

  “Heck yeah. Let’s do the lines, starting with the kiss.” He waggled his dark brows.

  “Um, no.” I shook my head.

  “Um, yes. It’s the catalyst for the slap. It’s always best to start with the motivation before moving forward.”

  “Is it?”

  My mind was in a holding pattern, circling round and round about Max. I thought back to where it had started with him—my fall off the riser at the photo shoot. That event had sent things in motion between us. Or at least I thought it had.

  But what if I’d missed something? Did I need to go back further to figure us out and fix what seemed to be going wrong between us?

  Chapter Forty-Four

  * * *

  While I waited for Max that evening, I paced the condo. Twelve steps from the kitchen to the entryway, fifteen steps to the sectional, ten to the kitchen. Repeat. Round and round.

  Over and over again, I traced and retraced my steps, my eyes tired and bleary and my nerves jangled. My stomach was empty except for a yogurt and an orange I’d made myself eat around noon, nine and a half hours ago.

  “Where are you, Max?” I lifted my cell, checking my texts again. My message was delivered, but he hadn’t responded.

  It was getting late. So late. He wasn’t swimming in the dark. It was past regular business hours. What was he doing? And who was he doing it with?

  My chest sizzled in a bad way.

  He’s not coming back. He took off and disappeared once, and now he’s done it again.

  What did I have to offer to keep him? I was a novice lover with emotional baggage, and a lot of the publicity stuff that surrounded me seemed to spook him. Not much in the positive column. No wonder he had bolted.

  Just as I stalled internally and physically on step seven between the kitchen and the entryway, the door to the condo suddenly popped open, and he came inside.

  “Max, are you all right?” I drank him in greedily with my eyes.

  “Not hardly.” Lifting his chin, he shut the door behind him and stepped farther into the living area. The noxious fumes wafting from him hit me first.

  Whiskey. Samuel’s preferred drink.

  Max staggered toward me. A tall, handsome, blue-eyed Adonis, he listed like a ship on unexpectedly rough seas.

  “You’ve been drinking.” I brought my hand up to my throat. I could feel my pulse beneath my skin beginning to beat rapidly.

  “I’ve had a few.”

  “More than a few.” My eyes widened as I noted how disheveled he was. His button-down shirt was wrinkled and untucked. His hair was tangled, and his blue eyes were red rimmed and cloudy. “What happened to you?”

  “You.” He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers only tangling it more. “You happened to me.”

  I flinched as he dropped his hand to his side, as if offended by its ineffectiveness to perform the task he needed it to.

  I wanted to shrink back from him. This felt too similar to the confrontation in the library with Samuel. But I straightened my shoulders and came toward Max, remembering the affirming words he’d spoken to me only the night before.

  “You’re drunk. You don’t mean that.” My eyes burned, both from hurt and from the acrid fumes that surrounded him. “I . . . I don’t like drinking.” It was more than dislike. It terrified me. “But we’ll talk about it in the morning when you’re sober.”

  Swallowing hard, tamping down my fear, I put my hand on his arm. This was Max, not my stepfather. “Let me, um, help you get to bed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I glanced up at his words. His expression as he stared down at me was so tender, so soft, so full of regret, that it rocked me. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay.” He shook his head. “I thought I could make it okay, but I can’t. I’ve only made it worse.”

  “I don’t understand.” I thought he was apologizing for the drinking, but if so, what he said didn’t make sense.

  “Sweet, trusting, beautiful Hollie. I shouldn’t have come back. Not before. Not now. But I can’t make myself stay away. Not enough alcohol in the world to keep me away from you.” He framed my face in his hands, his gaze no longer unfocused but steady. “I love you.”

  I froze. “Um, you what?” I latched onto his forearms as desperately as my heart latched onto those monumental words.

  “I love you,” he repeated. “It was like my life only started, that it only had purpose after we first met.”

  The catalyst wasn’t my fall off the riser. I’d been mistaken. “I thought you didn’t even notice me until the photo shoot.”

  “I noticed you.” His eyes flared. “Standing behind your sister in Ash’s apartment. Eclipsing her with your beauty.”

  I shook my head.

  “That you don’t seem to realize how gorgeous you are only deepens your allure.”

  “Fanny’s the beauty.”

  “She’s the bolder colors when the sun’s rays darken. You’re the dawn. The hush of anticipation. The sparkle of light on a new day. The cream of your skin. The pink of your cheeks when you blush. The gold of a sunrise in your hair.” Looking regretful and sad, he lifted a lock of my hair and rubbed it between his thumb and finger. “Well, it was rose gold before.”

  “Oh, Max.” I felt sad too. He hadn’t said a word about my hair, but somehow it seemed to embody what had started to go wrong with us.

  “You shouldn’t accept my apology. You shouldn’t have accepted me. I’m not right for you.”

  “You’re exactly right for me.” As my eyes flashed, his narrowed.

&nb
sp; “You’re a Hollywood princess. I work for you.”

  “I thought we already figured that out. So we have different backgrounds. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  Max didn’t seem to register my words. His focus had turned inward, his gaze taking on a faraway cast. “You gave me a pass on my past. You shouldn’t have without knowing the things I’ve done.”

  “What have you done?” I asked, and he went completely still. I held my breath, afraid that everything hinged on what he would reveal to me.

  “Maybe you should sit down.” He slid his hand down my arm to clasp my fingers. His grip was hot against my chilled flesh.

  “I don’t want to sit down. Tell me now. Please,” I begged. My heart was hammering so hard, it hurt.

  “I have a gambling problem.”

  “What?” My eyes widened in surprise.

  “Rather, I did have one.” He released my hand, started to lift his to his hair, but seemed to remember the futility of the gesture at the last moment. “I joined the military before the addiction could get ahold of me too badly, but when I was discharged and returned to Biloxi, it was all there to tempt me again. With a little money in my pocket, I got into trouble pretty quick. Then when my grandmother got sick, and there were all those medical bills we couldn’t pay, I got into more trouble. I justified it in my mind, told myself I was helping her. But I only ended up adding to her stress with my mounting debts at the end.”

  He lifted his gaze from the floor and gave me a sheepish look.

  “Oh, Max.” I moved toward him, reaching out to embrace him, but he stepped back.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me.” His arms stiffened at his sides. “After New York, they called in my marker. I went to Biloxi and met with them. I paid my debt in full. When I returned, I made doubly sure that I was square with them and that none of my connection with all of that would blow back on you.” He waved a hand in the air. “I don’t want your pity.”

  “I don’t pity you. I just want to comfort you.” Tears for him burned in my eyes. “You regret your mistake. You’re hurting. I understand what it’s like to lose someone you love without a lot of closure.”

  “Hollie. Fuck. I mean, shit. I know you do. For sure, I know. That just makes it so much worse.”

  “How do you mean?” I tilted my head inquiringly.

  “Your childhood wasn’t rosy, sure, but look how you turned out.” He stared at me as if I were an untouchable goddess on a throne.

  “I’ve made mistakes. Tons of them.”

  “Maybe.” He didn’t look like he remotely believed me.

  Slowly, I reached for him again, afraid he might reject me again.

  “Don’t hook yourself to me. I’ll tarnish you.”

  “I don’t think so.” I slid my arms around his waist and pressed my body into his. “I think we’re a good fit. I think your care and concern buffs out a lot of my imperfections.”

  “Shug.” He groaned, his arms sliding around me and holding me tight.

  “Max, I’m so glad you came back. Don’t leave me again. Please. I . . . I need you.” Without him, I would be all alone.

  “I won’t. If you want me to stay knowing all you now know, I’ll stay.”

  “Promise?”

  He pulled back and peered down at me, his expression serious. “I can’t give you a lot, Hollie. But I can give you that. I won’t leave you.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  * * *

  “No more.” My entire body vibrating like a tuning fork, I tried to shift away.

  “Be still.” Max stretched up his arm and covered my restless legs. Pressing down hard to hold me in place, he lowered his head again and resumed sucking on my toes.

  Thorough?

  Oh yeah. He had definitely been that.

  He’d nibbled on my ears. Licked my neck. Then he’ ordered me onto my stomach to rain his potent kisses on my shoulders, spine, arms, ass, and then the back of my legs before he flipped me over to work my front again. Watching me intently and seeming to note every nuance of my responses, he’d lapped at my breasts and suckled my nipples.

  I felt like a wanton. I was on fire, every fiber of my body drawn taut and stretched to the limit with need.

  “Please stop,” I begged again as his wet tongue darted between my toes.

  He grunted, licked my smallest toe, and then bit down on it.

  I moaned. My throat was rough from all my whimpering and moaning.

  “You think you’re ready for me?” he asked, lifting his head, his heated gaze revealing how turned on he was from turning me on.

  “Yes.” I tried to shift upward again, but he had my lower half pinned beneath his arm. “Please let me have you.”

  “You have me, shug.” Parting my legs, he moved between them. His glorious body was tensed as tight as mine was. His bicep flexing, he slowly ran his hand up my slick inner thigh. “Good thing I’m ready too.” His cock a divining rod for my wet pussy, he positioned himself and slid inside me inch by magnificent inch.

  “You feel so good.” I shuddered as he slowly withdrew until only the blunt end of him remained inside me. “More. Don’t tease. No more teasing.”

  Lowering himself over me, he pressed his solid chest into my aching breasts, and I arched into him. He captured my hands, threaded our fingers together, and lifted my arms above my head, pinning them to the mattress as he stroked deep inside me once again.

  “Oh, Max.” I breathed out his name as ripples of pleasure spread outward from where we were joined. “What are you doing to me?” Every inch of me tingled—my scalp, my toes, even the ends of my fingers locked in his grip.

  “You’re not in a position to demand anything. Just take what I give you.” He withdrew halfway. His expression as possessive as he was in possessing me, he paused, staring down at me with heavy-lidded darkened eyes. “Take all of me.” Then he surged back inside, stretching me.

  “Yes.” I wanted all of him. He filled me so full, so hot and hard, so very good.

  “Beautiful.”

  As he stroked in and out again, I moved with him. Lifting my hips to deepen the penetration, I clamped my inner walls tightly around his cock as he withdrew.

  “Hollie.” He groaned my name. “Yes, baby. You feel so good around my cock.”

  “I’m going to come,” I warned.

  “Then come, baby. I’m going to come too. So hard.” He plunged deep inside me, stiffened, and threw back his head. Roaring his release, he pierced the tight ball of need inside me and ripped it wide open.

  “Max,” I cried as I unraveled. Bits and pieces of my broken heart rose to the surface. All the wounded parts of me shone bright in my eyes. All of me for him to see.

  “I love you,” he said, lowering his head and dropping appreciative kisses on my face.

  Moving languidly together, we rode out the last tremors of pleasure together. Then he released my hands and collapsed his weight down on me.

  “Max, that was incredible. You’re so good. I don’t deserve you.” I wound my freed arms around him and squeezed him tight. But I didn’t return the words he gave me.

  I wasn’t ready.

  Deep down, I was afraid I might not ever be.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  * * *

  “Shug. Wake up.”

  “What?” I pushed my hair out of my eyes and bolted up in bed, almost crashing into Max, who was leaning over me.

  “Your sister’s on the phone.” He thrust my cell into my hands.

  My heart hammering in my throat, I wondered why she was calling. Clutching the plastic casing, I put the phone to my ear. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She sounded huffy. “You, on the other hand, are yet to be determined.”

  No crisis. She just wanted to chew me out.

  “Why are you calling?” I turned to look at the clock. “It’s four in the morning, Fanny.”

  “You’re on location. I’m surprised you were sleeping.”

  “I was tired.�
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  My eyes met Max’s. When I saw he was watching me closely, I blushed. He was the reason I had no sleep, and after all we’d done, I had no reason to be shy.

  “I bet you were. Lots changed. Your hair color, for one. The trashy way you dressed for the premiere another.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “Easy to find stuff on the internet. Social media is full of images. Flynn and you yesterday. You and Max today.”

  “Fanny,” I said, trying to cut in.

  “No, Hols. You need to listen.”

  “I’m not a little girl you can manage anymore.”

  “I know. You’re grown. I get that. Not sure I approve of the path you’re on, but I get it. You’re finding your own way. You’ll figure things out. Eventually. Sooner rather than later, I hope.” She sighed. “So, just tell me one thing.”

  “What’s that?

  “Are you okay?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Samuel ambushed you at the premiere. I saw the pictures. You looked . . . scared.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Hollie, you are. You should be. You and I both know how he is, and what he’s capable of.”

  “Hart’s handling Samuel. You need to stay out of it. It’s not for you to defend me.”

  “I’m glad you have Maximillian around.” She didn’t hear my rebuff or chose to ignore it. “It’s obvious he cares for you, and he seems like a steady influence.”

  He was, but I didn’t confirm or deny. I wanted to send him out of the room and tell her everything. I was dying to ask her if Ash was the one who said those three words to her first, and if she had any trouble saying them back to him, but I needed to be stoic and keep her at arm’s length to protect her.

  She spoke into the silence my troubled thoughts allowed. “I’m always going to be the older sister. I’m always going to care about you. I’m always going to look after you the best I know how.”

  “Don’t, Fanny.” If she kept pushing, I’d have to push harder to keep her away.