by Jenna Jacob
ROCK ME FASTER
Licks of Leather, Book 2
Jenna Jacob
Published by Jenna Jacob
Copyright 2020, Dream Words, LLC
Edited by: Blue Otter Editing, LLC
ePub ISBN: 978-1-952111-01-3
Print ISBN: 978-1-952111-03-7
If you have purchased a copy of this eBook, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the rights to resell, distribute, print, or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer-to-peer program. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. If you no longer want this book, you may not give your copy to someone else. Delete it from your computer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
About Rock Me Faster
I come to life when I pound the drums,
but no one gives life to my heart…
until her.
Ross Walker, drummer for iconic rock group Licks of Leather, is adored by millions…but distances himself from everyone. How else can he atone for his unforgivable past? With another tour starting, Ross’s manager hires Harmony Sharp to pose as his devoted girlfriend in order to rehab his bad-boy image. But Ross’s attraction to the innocent backwoods beauty is instant, electric—and dangerous. The longer he’s with her, the more he aches to drag her beneath him. If he can’t keep her at arm’s length, he fears he’ll destroy them both.
Harmony Sharp is a budding self-help vlogger. From her ecovillage high in the Kentucky hills, she teaches the joys of inner peace through self-enlightenment. When her home is threatened, Harmony agrees to spend six months on tour with Licks of Leather as Ross’s “girlfriend,” but her real mission is to heal his damaged soul. She’s determined to achieve her goal, even if it means risking her heart. But will her love be enough to save him?
Dedication
For Momma Mary
December 17, 1935 – August 2, 2020
“You are the most beautiful memory
I keep locked inside my heart.”
Narin Grewal
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Thank You
About the Author
Also by Jenna Jacob
Chapter One
Ross
“I packed your bags and set them by the door for you,” Angie, my longtime friend and housekeeper, announced softly.
Lifting my eyes from the screen of my cell phone, I slid a gaze over the woman leaning against the doorframe.
“Thank you.” A tender smile I rarely shared with anyone tugged at a corner of my mouth. “You didn’t have to haul them down for me. I would have done it.”
“I know. But the Cessna to New York I booked leaves in a few hours.” She hesitated. “Need to work out some…frustrations before you go?”
Normally, suggestion would flicker in her dark eyes and her voice would sound husky. Not today. What was that about?
As drummer for celebrated rock band Licks of Leather, I was looking forward to the start of another US tour. At the same time, I was dreading it. The band’s usual three-month respite had been cut short thanks to Quinn MacKinnon—friend, agent, promoter, and president of Fusion Productions. After he’d acquired a stunning ranch and state-of-the-art recording studio in Texas, we’d spent nearly all of our normal downtime on the outskirts of Denton. I’d only been home in Chicago for less than a week. And though my band brothers and I had laid down some killer tracks for our upcoming album, I hadn’t been able to mentally prepare for six long, celibate months on the road.
“I’d like that.” I nodded.
“All right. I’ll meet you upstairs.” She sounded more like she was going to face a firing squad than fuck me.
“You okay, Ang?”
She didn’t answer right away. “Fine.”
Before I could call bullshit, she turned and walked away. At the same time, my phone dinged. I glanced down to see a new photo had been posted to the Licks of Leather social media page. Opening the app, I issued a low growl.
Syd Wilson, bass player and resident prankster, had posted a photo of me crashed out in a chair. Legs askew, head lolled to one side, mouth open, and arms dangling toward the floor. At least the cockbag hadn’t captured me in my underwear…drooling.
“Asshole,” I grumbled.
Closing the app, I drew in a deep breath and stood. As I headed down the hall, I shoved aside the command I’d once wielded in another lifetime and locked it behind a thick wall of steel. Taking the grand staircase to the second floor, I focused my thoughts on keeping Angie safe…and figuring out what the fuck was up with her.
When I reached my bedroom, I found her—like always—lying naked on the mattress, legs spread, fingers teasing her pussy. Readying herself for me.
It didn’t matter that Angie was seventeen years older or that she had once been my mother’s best friend. The laugh lines etching the corners of her mouth and her soft body now affected by gravity didn’t bother me, either. At forty-nine, she was still elegant, toned, and attractive. She was also blessedly trustworthy.
Four years ago, I’d left rehab, clean and sober. My eyes had finally been opened, but my control was in shambles. While the tabloids were having a heyday with the dirty details of my sins, I’d returned home. Like an angel of mercy, Angie had appeared on my doorstep. It had taken a couple of weeks, but I’d finally grown a set of balls and confessed everything to her.
To this day, she still holds my demons, triumphs, and dreams sacred.
Though I’d conquered the monsters that fed my addiction, their ghosts still hovered, whispering all the reasons I should lose myself in the euphoria of cocaine again. I blocked them out for sobriety’s sake, while Angie did her part to keep me sane through equal parts salvation and humiliation. And for that, I owed her more than gratitude. More than the obscene amount of money I gave her each month. And far more than the few minutes of hollow pleasure we sometimes shared.
If the shrinks back in rehab knew the things Angie did to me, they’d stroke out. But they could go fuck themselves. They hadn’t lived through my hell. Angie understood—and she didn’t judge. She knew I couldn’t trust myself with anyone else yet. So, she helped me.
Hands working the fly of my jeans, I kicked them off impatiently, sending them sailing across the hardwoods. Then I tugged my tee over my head and tossed it in the other direction before taking six long strides to the edge of the bed.
“How close?”
I asked in a voice thick with need.
“Halfway there,” she answered, rubbing a finger over her stiff clit. She glanced at my fist as I stroked my cock to entice an erection. “Do you need to use my mouth?”
Her blatant submissive offer made my dick thicken and harden.
“No, and you know better than to offer that right now.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” She smirked, arching a brow at my hard-on.
Stroking faster, I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not in charge.”
“Not yet, but it won’t be much longer.”
Smart-ass.
Watching me abuse my dick, she licked her lips to urge me on. And dammit, it worked. The sight turned me hard as steel and had my crest begin weeping profusely.
“That’s it,” she murmured. “It’s time.”
I hated not being in control. A feral roar slipped free as I tugged against my mental chains, but even my inner beast, who’d once relished taking charge, knew I didn’t have a choice.
“Fine.” Chest heaving, I started to climb onto the bed.
“Don’t.” Angie’s warning froze me in my tracks. “Move away so I can get off the bed.”
Far away so I couldn’t touch her yet. Where she’d be safe.
With a sharp nod, I took several steps back, until she was well out of my reach.
“Do it,” I instructed.
Without another word, Angie slid off the bed and dragged up the hidden restraints chained to the frame. Then she placed the thick, fleece-lined leather cuffs at each corner of the mattress, watching me like she was unsure.
Since she knew my history, she had good reason to be.
To stop the mental emasculation, I ignored her preparations and skimmed a gaze over her flaring hips, tapered waist, and heavy breasts. The impatient beast inside me snarled to fuck, to take control.
“Hurry,” I growled.
Angie glanced at me, brow raised. “Last night didn’t help much, did it?”
“No. Get out of the way. Now.”
“Easy, Ross.” She took a step back and eyed me warily.
Still wildly stroking my cock, I stormed to the bed and flopped onto my back. Heart pounding, I pressed my head into the pillow and clenched my jaw. “Make them tight.”
With a stare both sympathetic and worried, Angie sat beside me. “I’ve got you. Relax. I’ll take care of you.”
Her tone, meant to placate, felt patronizing. Maybe if I’d had more time to slip into a better headspace, I’d be less angry. Maybe if I knew what was up with her weird mood, I’d be less agitated. But knowing this was the last sex I’d have for six fucking months made me volatile. I could feel control slipping through my fingers.
“I can’t relax. Fucking hurry.”
My urgency clearly rattled her because she fucked up and pried my fist off my cock. I clenched my jaw—battling an increasing need to take charge—and forced myself to comply while she raised my arm toward the cuff.
But as Angie leaned over my body to secure the clasp, her pebbled nipple brushed my lips.
My restraint snapped.
Sinking my free hand into her hair, I cinched the soft waves tightly. A guttural roar rolled from my chest as I opened my mouth and latched on to the hard tip, sucking deep.
Angie tensed. “Take your mouth off me, Ross.”
But I couldn’t. I was too far gone. I craved some semblance of control.
“Let go.” Her tone was harsh and commanding, just like I’d taught her. “Now.”
The power surging through me zapped all reason and I bit the taut nub. Her cry, a mix of pleasure and fear, turned my inner beast wild, and I growled as I tugged and devoured her breast.
I was a sick fuck like that.
Her slender fingers clutched my cock. I issued a groan of delight, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Then without warning, she squeezed, twisting my shaft as if trying to turn it into a balloon poodle. Pleasure sliced to pain, and I released her, howling. But Angie didn’t relent. She simply tightened her hold and sent me a stern frown.
“Let go,” I gasped through the rage and pain.
“Not until you’re under control.” Though her voice was low and calm, she couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes.
Fuck.
Guilt spilled through me. I closed my eyes, and though Angie’s hand was still gripping my shaft, I managed to chain down my beast.
“I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
Sending her an apologetic grimace, I nodded.
Releasing me, she stood, this time keeping her distance as she secured my ankles and wrists in the wide leather cuffs. I closed my eyes. I hated watching her fasten me down and strip away my Dominance. Instead, I focused on the smell of the leather, but that only made me ache for the past I’d given up.
Atonement was a red-hot bitch.
When I was secured, she climbed onto the bed and straddled my hard stomach. “You’re safe. Let your mind go.”
I wanted to, but images of what might have happened if Angie hadn’t literally taken the situation in hand saturated my brain.
My erection was at half-staff, which only added to my guilt. Angie wasn’t going to find relief with a limp cock, and neither was I. As if reading my mind, she slid down my body until her lips hovered above my uncooperative dick.
“Just feel,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes, wanting to anticipate the suction of her mouth. But all I could think about was how fucked up I’d become and how I’d allowed myself to be reduced to this simply to function.
Stop mind-fucking yourself, and focus on fucking Angie.
When she wrapped her mouth around me, I finally stopped fighting my ghosts and surrendered. My cock sprang back to life. I reached for her head, but the chains—as they’d been designed to do—kept me from touching her.
It was for her own good—and mine. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to fist her hair, set the rhythm I liked, and use her mouth. Sadly, the power I once wielded was nothing but a memory of a life long gone.
No matter how frustrating and unfulfilling this sterile fucking might be, this was my new norm. My penance. It was depressing as shit and I still couldn’t accept it, so I told myself that every directive Angie followed was an extension of my control. Yeah, it was pure bullshit, but thinking too hard on the reversal of the dynamics would only drive me insane.
Since I had a schedule to keep and a plane to catch, I lifted my lids and watched her mouth work my cock.
Soon, the mounting friction sent tingles crawling up my spine.
“Enough,” I growled. “Grab a condom and your vibe and shove me inside you. Now.”
Angie complied, and after rolling the latex down my length, she straddled me again, positioning her opening to my crest. She pressed the buzzing toy to her clit, and with a grunt, I lifted my hips and drove deep inside her.
Inwardly cursing the cuffs, I closed my eyes again and let her set the pace. She knew how I liked it—hard, fast, and ruthless. And as always, she didn’t disappoint. I made sure Angie got the pleasure she deserved first, then followed her over.
Panting and sweating, she collapsed over my chest. This was the worst part, because I couldn’t even give her the aftercare she deserved.
Stop, fucker. She’s not your sub or your girlfriend, the voice in my head barked at my guilty conscience.
“I need free, babe,” I murmured softly.
“Oh, right.” Angie lifted her head. “Thanks. That was…”
She didn’t finish her thought, simply lifted off my still-stiff cock, disposed of the condom, then started working the clasps free at my wrists.
“It was what?” I asked as I shook out my arms, sending blood flowing again.
Angie paused briefly, then freed my ankles. “Amazing as always, but…”
“But?”
Sliding on the robe draped across the chair near the fireplace, Angie sent me a sad smile. “I’m not going to be here forever, Ross.”
>
“You’re here now.”
“I know, but…” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ve known you since you were four years old, and—”
“I’ve already told you. The age difference doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not talking about that. You’ve been in a dark mood I haven’t seen you in for a long time. What’s going on? What’s bothering you?”
“It’s not any darker than usual. I mean, yeah, it would have been nice to have more than a few short days to rest, regroup, and recharge, but other than that, nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you sure? I’m worried.”
“About me?”
“No, worried that doing all this”—she waved at the cuffs—“is doing a disservice to you.”
“It’s part of what I pay you for.” The second the words left my lips, she blanched, and I cringed. “I didn’t mean it like that, Ang. You’re more to me than—”
“A hooker? Sadly, that’s what I feel like.”
“Fuck.” I sat up and dragged a hand over my bald head. “How can I fix it?”
“Start living again,” she pleaded. “It’s time for you to move on.”
“No.” I shook my head. My gut clenched in dread. “I’m not ready yet.”
“You are. It’s been four years. I can’t be your crutch forever. You need—”
“Crutch? You suggested we try the cuffs. And guess what? It worked.” Fear and anger churning, I launched off the bed and grabbed my jeans. “I never meant for you to feel like a hooker or an enabler.”
“I know. I also know now isn’t the time to start this conversation, but…” She sighed. “Do me a favor?”
