With You: A Rock Star Romance (Rocked in Love Book 1)

by Jessica Marlowe

  “Do you need to use the bathroom?” Jack asked.

  “You go first.”

  Jack went into the bathroom but didn’t shut the door, returning in a few seconds carrying a robe. He held it open. “You’re cold.” He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head and walked into the bathroom, closing the door.

  The thick robe warmed her, but her feet were cold. Socks would be good, but she didn’t want to root around in his drawers because that’d be rude. Probably terrible one-night stand etiquette. His slippers were next to the bed, so she slipped them on.

  The sex had been amazing. Jack got a lot of practice. Sometimes she wished she could turn her brain off.

  “Hey.” Jack strode to her. “I thought only I had what it took to put that look of ecstasy on your face. Apparently, a pair of slippers has the same effect on you.”

  “Never underestimate the value of warm, fuzzy slippers.” Grabbing his cock, she stroked him. “That in no way means this is of any less value.”

  Jack kissed her as his hands went to the belt of the robe and tugged it free. As Emily shrugged out of it, a loud knock broke the silence. Pulling back, her foot came out of one slipper and she stumbled. Jack’s hands steadied her.

  “It’s Jeff. I’ll be right back.” Giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, he strode into the living room.

  Emily wished she’d brought her clothes into the bedroom. She closed the robe, and went into the bathroom, locking the door. Flipping on the light, Emily sighed. Well, it’d been fun while it lasted. God, she hoped it wasn’t another girl. Whoa. Why would she assume that? Writer’s brain strikes again.

  The bathroom was huge, much like the rest of Jack’s suite. Neutral beige tones were accented with chocolate-brown polished tiles that bordered the wall. The ceramic tiles on the floor alternated between cream and brown. The granite vanity was varying shades of brown, gold, and cream, and the cabinets had a dark cherry finish. She’d never stayed in a hotel so extravagant.

  She forced herself to calm down by taking several deep breaths. Jack was a nice guy, so she wouldn’t allow her imagination to run wild. Okay, benefit of the doubt. Emily used the toilet, washed her hands, and splashed her face. Damn, she didn’t have cleanser, and wetting her face would only make a mess of her makeup.

  She never wore a lot of makeup, so there wasn’t much to disturb. Using a tissue, she dabbed under her lash line. Her cheeks were still flushed. She could do with a little powder, but since her purse was in the living room, she used another tissue to blot.

  A single knock sounded on the door. “Em, you okay?”

  Crap, she’d locked the door, and now she felt bad. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. Turning the lock, she opened the door.

  “You okay?” His voice was full of concern.

  She nodded.

  “Why’d you lock the door? Did you think I wouldn’t give you privacy?”

  Emily stepped aside, and he entered and placed a white bag on the counter. He’d slipped into jeans, the button undone. Delicious. Turning to face her, he leaned up against the counter.

  Emily shook her head, but she was hedging. She knew he wasn’t the rock star ripper, serial killing from coast to coast, but maybe he wasn’t all he seemed.

  “Hey,” Jack said, waving his hand up and down in front of her face. “Have I fucked you into deafness, or are you ignoring me on purpose?”

  “Neither. When you said it was Jeff, I thought…” Emily stammered. Holy hell, what is wrong with me? Just say it. “If the itch has been scratched, just say so. I don’t know the protocol here. It’s been fun, but I don’t want things to get weird.” Too late.

  Jack didn’t smile. Confusion turned to comprehension and then to annoyance. She wanted to look down, or over his shoulder, but she’d never been a coward and wouldn’t start now.

  He closed the distance between them and put his arms around her. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m such a jerk. I should’ve told you Jeff was coming by. He ran an errand for me.”

  Emily rested her head on his bare chest, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. “I don’t understand. Why do you think you’re the jerk in this scenario?”

  “Because I should’ve known you might misunderstand. Be honest, you thought Jeff was here to take you home?”

  Allowing herself a little cowardice, Emily nodded. Jack’s arms tightened around her, and she nestled in closer.

  “See, jerk. I’m sorry.”

  “Jack.” Emily forced herself to meet his eyes. “You asked me to spend the night with you, and while we could argue when the night ends and day begins, it certainly isn’t now. You’ve been open and honest, and it’s just that sometimes, my brain, in writer’s mode, indulges thoughts that if I’d been thinking clearly, I wouldn’t have been thinking. It got the better of me for a minute. I’m sorry.”

  “How far off the cliff did you get?”

  “Well, my first thought was that, yes, Jeff was here to take me home now that you’ve had your fun. The second, I hoped he wasn’t making a delivery.”

  “Well, he did make a delivery.” Jack grinned and pointed to the bag. “Go on, open it.”

  “Well, I know it isn’t condoms, because, courtesy of Elliot, you have a lifetime supply.” Opening the bag, she looked inside and pulled out bottles of moisturizer, face wash, body wash, and lotion. All unscented. She looked at Jack’s reflection in the mirror. His blue eyes watched her intently.

  “I don’t know if these are brands you like, but they’re unscented. The hotel supplies all that stuff, but it’s all very smelly. I wanted you to feel right at home in the morning,” he said, with a shy smile.

  Oh, hell on a stick. She’d known he was a nice guy, but this was so far out of the realm of nice; it was so incredibly, amazingly, wonderfully nice. Fuck. Why couldn’t he be a prick? Speaking of pricks, her gaze dropped to his crotch. Stop it, right now, young lady. Lady? Yeah, like she’d still qualify as a lady.

  chapter

  THIRTEEN

  “What did you think Jeff was delivering?” Jack asked as they walked into the bedroom.

  “A girl,” Emily said, stifling a yawn.

  Jack yawned too. “Already have one.” Jack pulled the covers down. Unzipping his jeans, he pushed them down and stepped on the bottoms to pull them off. He stretched, plopped on the bed, and patted the spot next to him. Seeing her all sleepy and mussed up had his body responding.

  Emily walked to the free side of the bed while slipping out of the robe, and with her back to him, he had a great view of her fine ass. She sat and swung her legs onto the bed, grabbing for the covers at the same time.

  Jack needed to hold her, feel her body against his. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead and then flicked off the bedside lamp. She’d had a rough few weeks and probably wasn’t sleeping well. He turned to face her. Emily lay on her back, her breathing even and steady. Maybe she thought cuddling would be too intimate, but he needed it, so he gently burrowed his arm between her neck and the bed, cradling her with his hand resting on her arm. Not ideal, but it would do.

  She’d be a challenge. All the circumstances that led to her being at the concert tonight: catching her fiancé cheating and subsequent broken engagement, and Nicki’s asshole boyfriend cheating on her. So much pain. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Ever. But, he wouldn’t waste this opportunity. Jack would make her understand what they had was special. She must feel it, too. Definitely a challenge, but one he was up for.

  Jack woke with a start. He was cold and Emily was no longer next to him. She lay on her side on the far edge of the bed. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was almost two, and he hadn’t been asleep long. At least with her on her side he could spoon her, but before he could move, she rolled onto her back.

  Her lips moved, and she made small sounds, but he couldn’t make out any words. She made a swatting gesture as she bolted upright and screamed, “Jack, don’t.”

  What the fuck does that mean? He s
at up but didn’t touch her. She was looking around, probably trying to get her bearings. Jack smiled. She’d never woken up in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar bed with a man she wasn’t dating. He hadn’t given up on changing that. “Hey, you okay?” He scooted closer, placing his hand on her shoulder. The sheet pooled at her waist, but she didn’t cover up, just leaned back into him. “Did you have a nightmare?”

  “No, just a dream.” Too soon, she pulled away. “I have to use the bathroom.” Not bothering with the robe, she walked to the bathroom. The door clicked shut, but she didn’t lock it.

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck. That was bullshit. Did she really expect him to believe it was just a dream? She woke up swinging and screaming “Jack, don’t.”

  Had the sex been too rough? Had he hurt her? He’d held back as much as he could, considering he was out of his fucking mind with need for her. The drive to possess a woman had never been so strong, urgent, and scary. Shit, maybe he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He cast that thought aside; he was ready. For her anyway.

  His breakup with Christie had really fucked with his head. This time last year, he’d planned to propose. They’d bought the house in California and he’d bought a ring. He’d known for some time he wanted to marry her. After her first stint in rehab two years ago, things had been good. She’d been newly sober, and her career had blossomed. She’d gotten that supporting role in what turned out to be a huge blockbuster, and her reviews had been stellar.

  But by last June, she was drinking and taking uppers. He’d begged her to go back into rehab, even flying her folks out to talk to her. She’d resented that, big time. Turned out, that was only the tip of her resentment. During her rehab, they’d gone to counseling. According to her, he was a self-centered prick who only cared about his own success. He’d done everything possible to help her. They’d moved to California to further her acting career, for fuck’s sake. He’d supported her financially and emotionally, but it was never enough.

  That was the day he’d realized that the woman he’d considered the love of his life didn’t love him so much as the idea of him. The supposed rock star. The fame. The money. The power couple. What the fuck does that even mean?

  Jack was a simple guy, and he didn’t need a lot of stuff. Guitars, food, shelter, clothes. Christie used to be that way too. A career in music was hard work, and Jack and the band worked hard. There might be a bigger payoff, but it wasn’t an easy life, like that Bachman Turner Overdrive song would have people believe. Writing and recording music was a small part of their life; touring ate up most of their time. Time away from their families and friends, missed birthdays and family celebrations. He’d missed his sister’s college graduation because he’d been on tour in Europe, but his family had understood. Their support meant everything, and he wouldn’t be where he was today without it.

  They loved what they did, and they were the luckiest fucks on the planet since they got to do it for a living. He loved performing and meeting their fans, but touring was grueling, a life of extremes, busy or boring. There was always promotion to be done, radio stations, interviews, and fan meet and greets. To combat the boredom, they found things to fill their time—working out, video games, girls.

  Speaking of girls… Jack got up and walked to the bathroom. Emily had been in there a while. The dream must’ve been bad.

  Jack was about to knock when the door opened. The light from the bathroom illuminated her gorgeous body. Breathtaking.

  “I want to brush my teeth, but I didn’t want to go through your stuff. Toothpaste?”

  “Oh yeah, sorry.” Jack walked into the bathroom and opened a drawer, pulling out a tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush and a new one for Emily. “Here.” Their fingers skimmed as he handed it to her.

  She opened the toothbrush, ran it under hot water for a minute, then put the paste on it, and brushed her teeth. They were both naked and brushing their teeth. Every time she made eye contact with him in the mirror, he smiled and toothpaste threatened to spill out.

  Emily rinsed her mouth and laid the toothbrush on the counter. She picked up the body lotion and used some on her hands. “Thanks for this.”

  “My pleasure.” Jack rinsed his mouth. “Ready?”

  She nodded, and they walked into the bedroom and back to bed. He lay on his back and waited for her to snuggle closer, but she didn’t. Instead, she lay next him and held his hand. Jack turned, coming up on his elbow, and waited. He could just make out her outline. “What’s wrong?”

  She sighed and faced him. “Nothing.”

  “Something has to be wrong. You’re all the way over there, and you woke up screaming ‘Jack, don’t,’ which has me concerned. Did I hurt you in your dream?”

  “God, no. It was a nice dream, I guess, just a little weird. You did nothing to hurt me.”

  “Then why are you all the way over there?” He couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice.

  “I get hot in my sleep, no big deal. As for the dream, it’s nothing.”

  “Tell me,” he demanded.

  “It was just a dream, okay? I’ve dreamt plots to my books. Sometimes I wake up in the morning with the perfect solution to a part where I was stuck. Don’t make too much out of it okay?”

  Jack settled onto his back and laced his fingers behind his head. He wanted to pull her into his arms but didn’t. “Em, tell me a story.”

  Emily sighed. “Fine. We’re on a double date with Curt and Nicki—”

  That was all Emily said before he sat up, turned the light on, and faced her with a shit-eating grin. “Officially, the best dream ever.”

  “Jack, it was just a dream,” Emily repeated, as her earlier frustration returned. “I don’t have to continue.”

  He lay back and pulled her to him so she was flush up against his body with her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for interrupting, won’t happen again. Please continue.” He couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Okay, we’re at my apartment. From the front door, there are six stairs to the walkway. We start down, you have your arm around me, and I’m on your left side. Curt and Nicki are behind us. The fourth stair down has a chunk missing on the left side, from all the snow this past winter. The heel of my shoe caught on the broken edge, and I slipped. You tightened your arm around me and said ‘Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.’”

  Under his breath he whispered, “Yup, best dream ever.”

  He felt her head shake and imagined she rolled her eyes. He also felt her smile. “Wait, you didn’t say ‘Jack, don’t.’”

  Lifting her head, she narrowed her eyes. “You interrupted, I didn’t get to that part yet. We make it down the stairs without further incident as do Nicki and Curt. We’re walking across the parking lot, when I see Sean coming toward us. He’s talking, and I can’t understand him at first, but as he gets closer, he’s saying we have to talk.” Emily took a steadying breath.

  “Who’s Sean?”

  “You refer to him as the fucker. That’s Sully’s first name.”

  “Why do you call him Sully?”

  “Everyone calls him Sully, even his bosses.” She sneered. “Tiffany. Everyone, except his parents. I only called him Sean when I was angry at him. Can I finish this story now, Mr. I Won’t Interrupt Again?”

  “Oh, I can’t wait.”

  “I tell him we have nothing to talk about, it’s over, leave me alone. He won’t take no for an answer, as usual, and he grabs my arm, pulling me toward him. Again, he says we need to talk, and I tell him he has nothing to say that I want to hear.” She paused giving him a look. When he didn’t interrupt again, she continued. “He’s pulling me harder, and you let go. I turn to see you raising your arm to punch him. That’s when I yelled ‘Jack, don’t.’”

  “Damn right, I’ll punch him, he grabs my girl—”

  Emily sat up and put her fingers over his lips. “I’m not your girl, Jack.”

  “Well, your s
ubconscious thinks you are or soon will be. It’s trying to break it to you slowly. It’s telling you that you like me, and you should listen.”

  “Jack, it’s not my subconscious doing any of those things. It’s taking bits and pieces and weaving them together in a nice little story.”

  “Are you saying you don’t like me?” Jack asked, grinning stupidly.

  “If I didn’t like you, no amount of good looks or charm would’ve tempted me to sleep with you. A girl has to have standards, even for a one-night stand. And this is a one-night thing.” Her tone was gruff, but she looked down.

  Jack ignored that and smiled as he turned out the light. “Definitely, the best dream ever.” He had no doubt that she’d be his girl. He also had no doubt that the fucker would be back.

  J

  Emily couldn’t sleep because her mind refused to shut down.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Oh crap, here it comes. “If I say no, would that stop you?” Emily asked.

  “Yes.”

  Talking to Jack was so easy, like they’d known each other for a long time. She’d known the moment he realized what he’d felt when he’d touched her leg. She’d been so caught up in the moment, in wanting him, that it never occurred to her that this conversation was inevitable. No way someone like Jack didn’t ask. “Go ahead.”

  “Were you in the car when your dad died?”

  Emily’s breath caught. Even though she’d known what he wanted to ask, she blurted out the full truth. “My parents, brother, and me.” She could barely breathe past the lump in her throat, and swallowing didn’t help. “They didn’t make it.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He nudged closer and tightened his arm around her.

  “Drunk driver.” Emily inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled, like she learned to do in therapy when her emotions overwhelmed her.