Bad Beats: A Rock-Star Step-Brother Romance (8 page)

I’ve seen sexy, talented men before but none who have affected me the way Shag Steal is affecting me now. I feel like I’m the only woman in the world who can satisfy his insatiable appetite, and I’m convinced he alone is the one man who can quench my thirst. It’s as if I’ve been wandering in the desert and he’s the oasis, a place of refuge and release.

There is no denying that whatever this
thing
is between us has me spellbound. I can’t explain it and I don’t want to. The mystery adds to the magic, making me tremble all over. If I sit here another second, I’m afraid I’ll melt. Robin will have to scrape me off the floor.

Not sure how to handle the tsunami of sensations, I bolt from the loveseat, desperate to find a safe harbor where I can compose myself in the midst of the storm.

The women’s restroom is the closest sanctuary I can think of. So I make a beeline through the audience, trying not to step on any feet along the way. Sadly, I’m not successful. I stumble, and someone, thank God, keeps me from a face plant.

Mumbling an apology, I keep moving, determined to escape what now feels like a room full of vultures eager to pick me to pieces.

When I finally enter the hallway that leads to the bathrooms, my legs turn to JELL-O. Slumping against the wall, I struggle to stay upright.

Rough hands grab my shoulders and I’m yanked against a hard body. At first I think its Shag, but the smell is all wrong. After spending time practically snorting his shirt, I’m confident in my ability to recognize his scent.

This man smells like whisky and musk, a combination that turns my stomach.

“Where are you running off to? We’ve got unfinished business.”

“What...?” My mind is foggy and doesn’t compute his comment, thanks to all the shots.

“Poolside, this morning. Your friend chased me off before I could tell you how much I like women like you.”

Placing my palms against his chest, I push. “Women like me?”

“Full-figured, sexy, and trying to pretend like they don’t want it.”

The fog clears just enough for me to process his words, and I’m pissed. I know I should be afraid, considering he has me pinned against a wall, but instead I’m seeing red. This asshole just called me fat and accused me of cock-blocking.

I do what any insulted woman would, knee him in the groin.

Only problem, I miss. Now he’s angry and running his mouth.

“You little bitch. You think that rock-star likes you. Please. You should feel lucky I want to fuck you.”

This time, I stomp on his foot. I don’t miss and he yelps, releasing me.

Before I can think to move, Omar, Shag’s security guard, the one who walked me to my first ever meal onboard, is between me and Mr. Stalker, shoving him back.

A second later, a shirtless blur appears.

My vision is tunneling and I’m not sure what’s happening. I think the blur is Shag, which makes no sense since I still hear music. Closing my eyes, I try to fight the dizziness that I suspect is a result of the booze. I’ve lost count of how many shots I swallowed down.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to throw up.

Yep. I am.

Unable to stop the inevitable, I bow over and spew out the cause of my distress.

With my stomach empty, I slide down the wall and land on my ass, right before the world goes dark.

Shag

“I mean, you can hate us. I don’t care if you hate us, but no one will ever sound like us.”

-Nikki Sixx

I’m lost in her green-eyed gaze. She’s all I see. The audience has vanished, and I play for her…just her. She’s become an obsession, a tormenting itch that I intend to scratch, tonight, if I have my way.

Cadie O’Shea has no clue what she’s done to me, but she’ll find out soon enough.

She inspired the song I’m belting out. Because of her, it demanded to be written, keeping me from dinner and our guests. I was quick to break Rod’s ridiculous rules to get what I know will be a big hit out of my head and onto paper.

Even if the world decides to conspire against me, and the song tanks, Cadie’s favorable response is worth dealing with one of Rod’s infamous tirades.

The final chorus requires that I sing falsetto. I hit the range and my voice soars, ushering in the climax. Approving whistles and shouts tell me everything I need to know. This song is going to sell more downloads than any of our other hits. It might not be like anything we’ve done before, but I am confident our fans will embrace it. We’ll gain new listeners as well. The song is that good.

What isn’t good is the way Cadie’s expression has shifted. Her gaze darts from me to Robin and then toward the nearest exit. She suddenly goes rigid and her eyes widen, and then she’s up and running.

Okay, not quite running, but stumble-walking at brisk pace through the crowd and almost falling before disappearing into a hallway that is home to the restrooms.

The second I’m finished, I whisper for Slyder to take over. There are two songs he sings lead on. I tell him to do both, something unprecedented.  Usually he does one song per show and only when I do my ‘costume’ change.

Being a consummate professional, Slyder shows no indication he’s surprised and launches into the first number. I squeeze past and hand my guitar off to a waiting roadie.

As I pass by Misty, I ignore her shocked expression and glue myself to the wall behind the stage, hoping to stay off everyone’s radar. Omar notices my abrupt departure and starts toward me. Shaking my head, I point at the hallway.

He’s worked with me long enough to read my signals. Considering he doesn’t need to sneak around, he’ll beat me to Cadie. I trust he is aware of her escape. I asked him to keep an eye on her whenever I can’t.

By the time I arrive and access the situation, I know I made the right decision.

She needs rescuing.

I don’t hesitate, bringing my fist down on some pretty boy’s face. A sickening crack under my knuckles tells me I’ve done damage. This fucker won’t be so pretty in the morning.

Turning back to Cadie, I’m just in time to see her lean over and launch the contents of her stomach all over the floor. She lets out a little groan and slides down the wall, landing in a heap.

In most cases, seeing a woman in this state would be enough to turn me off for life. Instead, I’m again overwhelmed by the need to take care of her, to shield her from any further suffering.

I lean over and scoop her up.

“Here, let me take her, boss,” Omar offers.

“No. I got her. Do something about that motherfucker. I want him off this ship tomorrow. The minute we dock, get him on a plane. I don’t want to see him again. Make sure staff gets this cleaned up.” I nod at the carpet.

“I’ll take care of everything. First, I’m going take this ‘motherfucker’ to the doc. He’ll probably be glad to have something besides another sunburned patient to deal with.”

“Thanks, man,” I voice my appreciation.

I’ve already determined Omar’s getting a raise. Who cares if he had one three months ago? He’s an integral part of my team, and he’s proven himself more times than I can count. This latest situation has cemented his position with me.

Cradling Cadie in my arms, I wait while he drags her would-be attacker up and hauls him off. Once they are out of sight, I start for the elevator, almost colliding with the
Rolling Rock
reporter. He steps back and gives me a disapproving look. I want to wipe the critical expression right off his face. Lucky for him, I’d have to put down Cadie to bludgeon him the way I’d like to. With a sneer, I push past, making sure my shoulder slams against his.

He doesn’t react.
Smart man.

I hope like hell he’s the last obstacle between us and my cabin’s privacy.

He is, and I am able to get her inside without any further complications.

I’m greeted by my cell flashing on the nightstand, likely with messages from Misty and Rod about me leaving Slyder to close the show. It’s not like I’m not performing two more times this week, and besides, change is a good thing. Slyder has a great voice and deserves an opportunity to show off his chops now and then.

Deciding to neglect the calls, I lay Cadie on my bed. I’m relieved to see her barf-blast projected away from her clothing, keeping her glittery Jolly Roger tee a vomit free zone. I notice then she’s clutching a rag. Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s my T-shirt. The one I tossed out to her, during our performance.

How fucking cute is that?
She’s passed out drunk and was almost assaulted, but she refused to release my shirt.

I gently remove it from her hand and set it on a nearby chair.

The whole situation is just plain bizarre. I’ve never had a woman in my bed that wasn’t there for sex. Most are booted out in the morning. Very few are welcomed back a second time. Misty has been one of the rare ones, but only because she’s always around and finds excuses to get me alone.

I’m so fucking grateful my mom called, interrupting a colossal mistake in the making. Consummating the actual
deed
with her would have prompted serious damage control. Even now, firing her won’t be easy. She knows way too much about me and my bad behavior. I hope I don’t have to enforce the nondisclosure agreement, but I will. Misty knows I don’t fuck around. If she wants to play dirty, I’ll bury her. My attorney will make sure she looks like a money-grabbing, jealous bitch with a vendetta.

“Thirsty…” Cadie whispers, her voice hoarse.

I shove all concerns about my PA and any future legal battles aside and hurry to the small fridge. Water bottle in hand, I return to Cadie’s side.

“Can you hold it?” I brush my knuckles against her cheek. Her skin is like silk, soft and smooth.

“I think so,” she croaks, reaching for the bottle.

Removing the cap, I hand it over.

She manages to prop up on her elbow and takes a slow drink. “This tastes like Heaven.” After another swallow, she asks, “Got an extra toothbrush? I have serious dragon breath.”

“In the bathroom. You sure you can walk?” There is no way she’s falling again on my watch.

“Yeah. I feel better now.”

She rises slowly and sits on the edge of the bed. I’m surprised she isn’t complaining about being here. I assume she’s still too out of it for the reality to register. She did ask for a toothbrush though. So she knows she’s in my cabin not hers.

“Thanks for whatever you did to get me away from that creep.” She visibly shivers, and I want to punch him all over again.

“He won’t be bothering you anymore. I guarantee it.”

She gives me a curious look but doesn’t press for details.

I like that. I’m used to women asking 101 questions. Cadie O’Shea continues to surprise me, and unlike my ex, I enjoy a good surprise.

“Okay then, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take you up on that toothbrush.”

She doesn’t wait for permission and makes her way to the bathroom with only one slight stagger. It appears she successfully eliminated the cause of her inebriation all over the floor by the restrooms.

I pace the room and listen to the water run. I’m not sure how to proceed. Do I go ahead and seduce her as planned or offer to take her back to her cabin? I wouldn’t blame her for wanting to be in her own space after what went down.

At last the door opens and she emerges, looking more fresh-faced, but I’m still not convinced this is the right time for a Shag Steal seduction. The idea she might blame the alcohol for her surrender doesn’t sit well with me. I want her to want me and know exactly what she’s doing. No regrets.

“Hey,” she says. “Does Robin know I’m with you?”

I’m glad I can tell her the truth. “Already taken care of. I sent Roxie a text. She’ll make sure Robin gets the message.”

I wait for her to ask me to walk her back to her suite, but she doesn’t move or speak. Instead she stands in the bathroom’s doorway, staring. Her eyes glide over me, and it hits me then that I’m still in my leather pants, and my shirt now belongs to her, leaving my chest uncovered.

If she’s going to stare at me, I’m going to stare right back. What sane man would miss the opportunity to inspect her luscious curves?

She looks damn sweet and sexy as fuck in her black suede pants. They hit right below the knee, giving me a perfect view of her sculpted calves. The fitted top’s Jolly Roger logo is like a magnet, drawing my gaze to her full breasts, which leads me to her hair. It is like a mane of crimson; the curls spiral over her shoulders and down her back. I want fuck her from behind with my fist wrapped around her long locks.

I can’t see her ass from my current viewpoint, but I’d bet good money it wiggles when slapped. I’ve pictured it plenty of times since meeting her. I’m an ass man and her bottom was made for spanking.

She surprises me again, granting me a knowing smile. “Are we going to do this?”

“Do what, Cadie Cat?” Her nickname rolls off my tongue before I can stop it.

This time she doesn’t seem to mind and takes a tentative step closer.

The animal part of me wakes up and roars. My good old lizard brain that screams fight, flight, food, or fuck is telling me to seize what’s right in front of me. Who cares if this is the ‘right time’? She’s offering herself like a virgin sacrifice, and I’m all for accepting what’s offered.

Still, the tiny piece of me that tries to act halfway human demands I ask the one question I’d rather disregard. “Are you sure? We have a trip planned for tomorrow. I want to make sure my date doesn’t stand me up if we let our lust take the lead tonight.”

She laughs and her whole face lights up. “You have a way with words. No wonder your songs are so amazing. And, yes. I’ll keep you on my schedule for tomorrow. I’m not that drunk anymore…just feeling free of inhibitions and relaxed. I know what I’m doing, or will be doing.”

It’s my turn to laugh. I’ve never met a woman who can be so damn enticing and funny at the same time, and I’ve never been worried if who I fuck at night will like me in the morning. In fact, before Cadie, I hated how women always seemed to want more the next day. As rude and distant as I would act the morning after, they refused to leave without throwing themselves at me one final time, something I find pathetic.

Cadie O’Shea isn’t like other women though. She has proven that over and over in the short time I’ve known her.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me?” I mutter before stalking toward her and sliding my hand around her neck, cupping the back of her head and bringing her mouth to mine.

Her breath is minty and fresh. My gaze locks one final time on her lips, and I’m done for. There is no way in hell I’m letting this opportunity pass. Fuck the future. I need to be inside her now.

I smash my lips against hers, devouring her mouth. The kiss is wet, wild, and hotter than I imagined it would be. She moans, her tongue warring with mine. I nip her lower lip, and she returns the favor. My hands sink into her hair. As I expected, it’s thick yet soft, and I tug gently at first, but when she grinds against me, I pull harder, eliciting a soft moan.

Fuck yeah
.

I hit the jackpot.

Cadie O’Shea likes a hint of pain with her pleasure. Testing the theory, I slap her bottom and squeeze a plump ass cheek through her suede pants. She digs her nails into my back and sucks my tongue into her mouth.

My cock is like reinforced concrete; I’m afraid I might blow in my best leathers. I’ve never been this close to losing control, so I need to move things along before I make a fool of myself. I’ll savor her later, because this first time is going to be fast and furious.

Running my hands over her shoulders and down her arms, I find the hem of her shirt and she raises her arms. I yank it over her head, revealing her heaving chest and a pair of perfect tits I want slide my dick between. Her white lacy bra lifts her breasts, presenting the valley of cleavage like a gift to unwrap.

Wasting no time, I expertly unhook her bra with my right hand while my left one moves to caress a soft, round globe the minute it’s uncovered.

“You’re so fucking sweet. I need to taste you.” I drop my head and take a leisurely lick of her straining nipple before grazing it with my teeth and sucking it into my mouth.

She smells damn good too. Everything about Cadie pulls me in. She’s a seductress who doesn’t realize her power.

When I replace my mouth with a hand and move to lick her other nipple, she arches and lets out a shaky sigh, “Don’t stop.”