by Laurie Ames
A change in his breathing alerted her to the fact that he was awake, but she continued to lie there and pretend to be sleeping. They laid there for long minutes, both pretending to be asleep so they could enjoy being pressed together for a little longer. Finally, Maddox broke the silence. “Maybe we should talk about things.”
Liza grudgingly nodded against his chest before rolling over so she could look at him while they talked. She immediately missed the warmth and closeness and rolled her eyes at how clingy she felt. “So, about work…” she trailed off, waiting to see if there was a particular place they needed to start.
“What worries you most about this and work?” He asked, voice serious as he gestured between the two of them.
Liza thought for a moment and then said, “Relationships are messy enough as it is. When work is involved too, it makes me nervous. Plus, they don’t encourage coworkers to hook up.” She said the last part with a slight smile to ease the sting of the words, and Maddox nodded.
“I get that. You’ve only known me for 72 hours, we still don’t really know each other that well in general, and it’s a lot to risk your professional reputation and work environment.”
“Exactly!” Liza replied, but the word felt sour in her mouth. They both fell silent, each wishing for a sign that the other person would be willing to try harder despite the obstacles. Liza knew that it might not be the most logical decision, but she couldn’t help it; her heart wanted to explore things with Maddox even though there was a risk of it going bad and impacting her work and personal life. He was genuinely sweet and funny, and if she was honest, it was kind of a positive thing in her mind that he was working at the Bridge too. He wanted to do what he could to support abused women in the community, and that was a quality that appealed to her.
Maddox sighed, and there was a clear note of resignation in his voice, “There’s no way we could try things between us and put work on hold, either. That would feel like the most selfish thing in the world for me to put my own personal interests above the promise I made to help raise funds and promote awareness of this charity that is so incredibly important to me.”
Liza swooned a little at his words, barely refraining from pinning him to the bed and kissing him senseless. While she hated that they were having this conversation, and selfishly wished he would retract his offer to work with the Bridge, she knew that part of his magnetism was his commitment to the community. She waited, hoping he would say something else or offer an alternative idea, but he stayed quiet. She felt herself begin to deflate.
Although she was the one with the most concern about them working together while exploring a relationship, she found herself wanting to propose that they try things regardless. She didn’t want the fear of what might go wrong dictate what she did with her life. She knew it would be unfortunate to break off with Maddox before they had a chance to really begin. Before she could think better of it, her eyes lit up, and a million new thoughts began streaming through her brain.
“Fuck it! What if we just go for it and figure it out as we go along?” She blurted out.
Maddox didn’t say anything for what felt like an infinity, and she didn’t want to look at him and be met with scorn or disdain for being naïve. However, when she finally chanced a glance at him, she was met with an optimistic stare.
“Let’s figure it out as we go along,” he mused, warming up to the idea. “It could work, but I think we would need to set some clear boundaries about how we want to handle things.”
“Nothing between us could happen at work,” Liza said. “That would be the first rule. No kissing, no touching, no planning to meet up later, none of it. The second rule is that we both agree to keep doing our jobs no matter what happens between us. It can’t be about us; it has to be about doing our jobs the best we can and having the women’s backs.”
Maddox was quick to agree, and added, “Third rule that we don’t tell anyone at the Bridge about us until we both agree on it.”
Liza nodded but then hesitated. “Actually, Luna already guessed. She called me on it after you left. Apparently, I need to work on my poker face.”
Maddox chuckled and said, “That’s fine, as long as you’re okay with it. I work there now, but you have way more history with everyone there, so I’ll follow your lead.”
“I appreciate that,” Liza said. “They’ll all catch on, probably sooner rather than later with how efficient the work grapevine is, but it’ll be nice to have at least a little while to see where things go between us.”
Maddox seemed about to say something else but stopped himself, and Liza arched an eyebrow at him. Seeing her look, he slowly asked, “You’re sure about this? That this is what you want? Because I really like you, and I really want to have the chance to keep spending time with you and getting to know you, but I also don’t want you to feel pressured into a situation that would be uncomfortable-” His words were cut off abruptly when Liza covered his mouth with her own in a tender kiss.
“Of course, this is what I want,” Liza murmured when she pulled back, “I really like you too, Maddox. Ever since I saw you perform up on that stage, you’re all I can think about. I don’t want to try pretend otherwise just because things might not work out in the end. So take me in those big arms of yours because I wish to stay there for a very long time. And outside of work, I don’t give a damn what anyone says or thinks about our age difference.”
Maddox leaned in and kissed her again, his tongue licking into her mouth and making her thankful they were already lying down. “Last but not least is Rule four,” Liza gasped against his lips, “You’re allowed to do this to me any time we aren’t at work.” Nipping at her bottom lip and then soothing it with his tongue, Maddox gave her a sly look. “Any time?”
“Any time,” she confirmed, “I don’t even care. It could be in public at the grocery store, in front of a window, on the kitchen table, or on the subway…” - she trailed off into a moan as Maddox began kissing his way down her neck. She smiled and began threading her fingers through his hair as he moved down her chest. He looked up at her and winked.
Waves of happiness and relief washed over Liza, and she felt it soak right into her bones. She didn’t know exactly what would happen between the two of them, but she was absolutely sure they were going to enjoy every moment as they figure it out.
~The End~
Falling For Him
The Infamous Rock Star
By: Michele Hart
Prologue:
JD had it all, Ferrari’s, gorgeous models and a superstar career. Millions of fans idolized him. But JD has been spiraling out of control. He’s burnt all his bridges. No record label wants to sign with a lead singer who is famous for alcohol-induced, PR nightmare escapades.
When no one else will touch him, one music producer is willing to give him a chance. The indie record label founded and run by Miranda Palmer is his only chance to make it back into the music industry.
Miranda and JD try to start a working relationship, but when they fall for each other, their personal demons get in the way.
Warning: Hot Romance. Adult naughty language and explicit sex scenes for ages 18+ only.
Chapter 1
“It may look like a flashy lifestyle, but if it's over, you are soon finished before you know it. If you aren't already broken by one thing, it will be another... The rock business is a dirty business full stop.”
-Diary of a Rock Star
"Pardon me?” Said the tour promoter as he grimaced in disbelief.
“Yes, you heard me right,” said JD with a tone of indignation. “My fans love me!”
So, you think you're still a big rock star? Haven't you noticed you’re fading out fast? You say you want to make a come back, but you keep fucking up! Now you want me to give you another chance? Well, I'm the boss and right now I’m feeling really pissed off. It’s a matter of whether I still want you. You’re here because I wanted to help you, but if you’re going to keep screwing up, then you can go
. I don’t care anymore.”
JD's eyes narrowed as the tour promoter chastised him. His knuckles turned white from clenching a fist. He gritted his teeth in an effort to remain silent. His hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid, burning and potent. His face was red with suppressed rage, and when the guy pushed a firm finger into his chest, he mentally snapped.
"Get your fucking hand off me! Who needs you anyways. I can get signed by any promoter." JD turned his back and started walking towards the door.
“Hmmm, yep. Got it. You leaving now? See ya. Your punk ass is done in the music industry.”
In an instant, he was out the door, heading down the street to find some dive bar for a drink. He knew he had blown it … again. The final straw happened during last night’s outrageous concert, packed with 80,000 screaming fans. As usual, JD had too much to drink. A security guard was dutifully watching the crowd at floor level with his back leaning against the stage. That’s when JD pulled out his member and pissed from the stage onto the back of that poor guy. The crowd roared, thinking that it some silly publicity stunt, but it wasn’t. The security company will never work another concert for him and the tour promotor is being fined. The mayor is outraged and considering criminal prosecution. The tabloids were having a heyday.
But JD blamed it on bad luck. ‘If it wasn’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all’ was his favorite saying. In his mind, it wasn’t the booze that caused his problems, God no! Drinking was a crutch to help him, not hinder him. The whisky always turned down the volume on his thoughts. It brought memories of good times past. Somehow it steadied him, gave him the resolve to go on.
That was the day when he truly hit rock bottom.
Chapter 2
One Year Later
JD sat on the floor, shirtless, his long black locks managing to look sexy even though his hair was a half-tousled mess. His favorite guitar was on his lap, a long-ago gift from a famous but now deceased musician. He squinted at the notes of music that he had written several years ago, wishing they were more legible.
His cell phone rang and he pounced at it with impish glee, momentarily animating the dragon tattoo that snaked its way along his torso. He was thankful for the distraction. Anything that distracted him from his musical dry spell was welcomed.
His gratitude immediately changed to horror when he looked at the caller ID. He swore violently, took a deep breath then answered the phone in a calm, cool and cheery voice that belied his earlier agitation.
“Hi Miranda!” He said as his heart thumped wildly in his chest.
He listened then cringed at whatever was being said over the phone. However, his next reaction was not to back off. In fact, he managed to add a note of righteous indignation.
“Of course, I did not forget! What do you take me for? It’s just that…something just came up.”
He listened to her on the line and rolled his eyes. Once again, when he answered, there was no hint of eye-rolling in his words.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. My last chance, whatever.”
He listened once again but cut her off in mid-sentence.
“No! I’m not drunk. And whether I drink or not is none of your fucking business!”
He threw away his cell phone and reveled at the sound of it breaking, the feel of familiar anger coursing through his veins. He took a couple of long deep breaths, but this time it was not working. He looked at the liquor cabinet and smiled.
***
JD used the pay phone outside the club to call his AA sponsor, Michael. He got the predictable alcoholics anonymous recording, then slammed the receiver down. He dialed a different number, Caitlyn’s. He hunched his broad shoulders and turned his face away as a vehicle pulled into the parking lot, its headlights illuminating him like a spot light.
As the phone rang, he turned up the collar of his black leather jacket—additional protection against being recognized by the group of young men and women getting out of a car. But he needn’t have bothered.
“Hey! Doesn't that look like JD?”
“Isn't that the lead singer of Hellvation?”
“It’s him! It’s him! He’s so hot!”
The whispers were drowned out by a louder voice. “Hey, JD, where did you disappear to? When are you going to release a new album? Or have you become too old?”
JD felt liquid anger flowing in his veins but due to years of practice, he extinguished it with a few deep breaths, stuffing it deep inside, locking it tightly down, ignoring it as completely as the laughter that echoed in the night. And when Caitlyn’s roommate Linda answered the phone on the sixth ring, his deep voice that made countless female fans faint and earned him millions of dollars and awards, was even and perfectly in control.
“Hi, Linda. It’s JD. Has Caitlyn left for the photo shoot yet?” Caitlyn was an up and coming model.
There was an uneasy silence. Then Linda laughed nervously. “Um, JD … Caitlyn left for Paris one week ago. She got that gig to be the face of a fancy French perfume, remember?” Her voice became tinged with pity. “Didn’t she inform you she was going?”
“Of course, she did,” JD lied. “I just… I must have forgotten.”
"You were not aware that she was gone, were you?" Linda saw right through him. “You know, she actually told me that you would not even notice if she suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth. And it took you a week just to wonder where she was?”
What could he say to that? It was the truth. So he remained silent.
“God,” Linda continued, “and I was about to be angry at her for dumping you that way. You’re so…you’re such loser, JD.” She hung up without even saying goodbye.
JD sighed. His girlfriend had been gone for one week. And he had not even noticed. It would have been hilarious—if it wasn't so pathetic.
The heavy metal rock music inside The Club was blaring and he welcomed the auditory adrenaline and energy it gave him. He worked his way through the sea of people to the bar at the back, where his comrades, his brothers in arms and his fellow band members were having their monthly reunion. It should have been band practice instead of drinks at the bar but, well…JD filed the rest of that notion in the “not now” folder of his brain.
Abe, bass guitar and Simba the drummer were sitting at the bar, a bottle of Whisky positioned strategically between them.
“Where’s Caitlyn?” Joe, the guitarist asked as JD moved past the table where he was seated.
JD didn’t stop. “She’s not coming. She’s already flown to France for her next project.”
He sat on the stool next to Abe, trying to feel sad, trying to care that Caitlyn was gone. But the only emotion he could muster up was a far-off sense of frustration. And maybe a pinch of envy. Caitlyn had another project to go to. So far, he had absolutely nothing lined up. He was shocked to discover Caitlyn had lined up another project so quickly. Mostly he was slightly disturbed with himself, considering he wasn’t saddened from Caitlyn dumping him.
He looked deeper within himself as he stared into the shot glass filled with golden brown whiskey that Abe had pushed in front of him, determined to dig out even one appropriate emotion about Caitlyn’s leaving. Shouldn’t he feel sad? Angry? Betrayed? He looked deep in the corners of his heart but he still felt nothing more than a profound sense of relief.
He sighed. Caitlyn had left, which meant that he no longer had to worry about breaking her heart. He knew that she had genuinely cared for him. And … well, at least the sex was smokin’ good.
But whiskey is a good friend and doesn’t pass judgement.
He picked up the glass of liquid temptation and brought it up to his nose, breathing in the seductive aroma. He closed his eyes, anticipating its smooth taste against his tongue and the welcome bite as it hit the back of his throat, the heat that would rush through him, down to his stomach and outward, all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. A bad memory, and several images that had been repressed for two decades suddenly came back to the surfac
e.
***
At 3 a.m. three ex-Army-looking guys burst into JD’s room, grabbed him, and shoved him into a van. They told him that his parents had signed their rights away as guardians and had given the three men complete authority over him till the end of his stay at the “rehab camp”.
The "camp" was a desert. Not figuratively a desert. Literally a desert. There were no bushes, animals, buildings or signs of human life. He was systematically given a set of clothes, a tarp and then introduced to a group. Each group in the camp was led by a male and female counselor, both in their late teens. JD found them to be extremely unhelpful in answering his numerous questions about basic desert survival skills.
The diet was monotonous, unimaginative and gassy. There was no showering. After a while JD got used to the awful smell that clung to his person. But he never gave up his passion for escaping. So, one day, he pulled it off. It was difficult, gruesome, dangerous and downright stupid. But JD had weighed the pros and cons of staying at the mind-numbing rehab “camp” and decided to go with perishing in the desert rather than dying from boredom and psychoanalysis.
