Bad Boy Romance: Nick (Romantic Suspense Alpha Male Romance) (New Adult Rock Star Contemporary Short Stories) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 2)

BOOK: Bad Boy Romance: Nick (Romantic Suspense Alpha Male Romance) (New Adult Rock Star Contemporary Short Stories) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 2)
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Nick

 

Hard Rock Star
Series

 

 

 

 

Jade Allen

 

Copyright
© 2016 by Jade Allen

 

www.redlilypublishing.com

 

All rights reserved. No parts of
this book may be used or reproduced in any form without written permission from
the authors, with the exception of brief quoted passages left in an online
review. This book is a fictional story. All characters, names, and situations
are of the authors’ creation. Any resemblances to actual situations or to
persons who are alive or dead are purely coincidental.

 

This e-book is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only; this copy is not available for resale or to give to
another reader aside from any transaction through Amazon’s e-book lending
program.

 

Disclaimer

 

This book is intended for readers
age 18 and over. It contains mature situations and language that may be
objectionable to some readers.

 

***This
is the second book of the
Hard Rock Star
series. Each book within the
series is a
STANDALONE
story
and may be read without having read the other stories first.

 

Book
1:
North

Book
2:
Nick

Book
3:
Julian
(Coming Spring 2016!)

 

 

A
Message From Jade Allen

 

Hi there! Before you begin reading, I wanted to let you know
how honored I am that you chose to download my book. It really means the world
to me to have readers like you! Writing has been a sole passion of mine for as
long as I can remember, and without your support, I wouldn't have the means to
continue my craft. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!

To show my many thanks, I wanted you to know that I've
included several
hot contemporary romance
bonus stories in this
book at no extra cost!

Also, do you love romantic suspense, but are curious about
what it would like to take a sexy alien home for the night? Or maybe you have a
hankering for a ride in the saddle with an irresistible cowboy? We’d like for
you to have a feel for all of the genres we publish here at Red Lily, so we've
hand selected some of our favorite stories (in their entirety!) and I’ve
included them at the end of this book as well!

 

All
the Best,

Jade
Allen

 

Nick

 

“Dude. If I never have to do another interview in my life
again, it’ll be too fucking soon.” I laughed at Mark, letting my head fall back
against the couch cushions. He had a point; none of us particularly wanted to
do any more interviews. Of course, we’d all known that there’d be interviews
coming up when we finished recording the album—we’d gone through that wringer
the last time, too. But ever since Alex lit up the news with his part of
shutting down a major drug syndicate a few months ago, suddenly Molly Riot was
golden. So of course, when the album started wrapping up, the phones began
ringing off the hook.

“I don’t see why you’re so glum about it, Marky-Mark,” Dan
said from the corner of the room. He had taken up his usual position there long
before the interviewer had arrived, and now that the guy was gone, he was
sketching in his notebook. “Half the questions were for Alex anyway.”

“It just takes so much out of the day,” Jules groaned,
slumping over onto the console.

“Where’d Alex disappear to?” I looked at the time on my
phone. “We’ve got another one of these in like, twenty minutes.” The label, of
course, wanted to maximize the exposure we were getting from Alex’s big
adventure. He got most of the attention for the fact that he had basically
gotten abducted in the line of leading the cops to the big man in charge.

“He’s talking to Mary,” Jules said, halfway rolling his
eyes. Of course Alex was talking to Mary; I was only surprised she wasn’t
actually at the studio with us.

None of us exactly resented Mary—hard to resent the woman
who’d managed to drill through Alex’s stubborn ass mental block to get him to
understand that he was taking his drug-love way too far—but of course when
you’ve been in a band with a guy for years, and breathed his damned farts in a
tour van, there’s a bit of friction whenever someone new comes into the
picture. Especially when that new someone distracts the lead singer of your
band on occasion.

“I’ll go get him,” Dan said, standing up and stretching. He
wandered out of the control room, headed for the little courtyard outside where
we usually took any calls; it was the most private place in the studio
complex—more even than the bathroom.

“You ever talk to that Bianca chick after last week?” I
yawned, turning my head to look at Mark. I shrugged.

“She texted me like twenty fucking times, man.” I shook my
head. “I played along for a day or so, but Christ.”

“Don’t worry Nicky,” Alex said, coming into the room fast on
Dan’s heels. “One of these days you’ll find that special lady who can suck a
watermelon through a hose and then sneak out of your bed in the morning before
you wake up without even leaving a note.” I laughed.

“But will she leave me a cold beer to wake up to? If not,
I’ve still got my hand,” I said with a smirk.

“Your hand, Mark’s hand, Dan’s socks…” I threw an old,
cigarette-smelling couch cushion at Jules.

“That was
one
time,” Mark said jokingly. Everyone
settled in to wait the fifteen minutes or so before the next interviewer
arrived at the studio: I fished my cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one, Dan
went back to sketching, Mark started tapping on the arm of his chair, and Alex
and Jules started talking about mixing one of the songs differently.

We’d been at it since the ungodly hour of eight o’clock in
the morning, and none of us was particularly excited about another interviewer.
The last guy who’d been in the studio to talk to us had wanted to know a bunch
of shit we’d already told about fifty people about over the years: how we’d all
met, what our process was like, whether we liked recording or touring more,
whether we preferred big shows or small venues.

“If the next dude doesn’t show up soon, I’m taking a nap,”
Jules said, yawning as he sprawled across the control panel, letting his head
come to rest on his arm.

“Yeah,” Mark said, tapping in a beat that was becoming more
complicated and faster-paced every second. “Let’s all pile on the couch with
Nick and let the dude see us like that. Next month’s
Record Spin
headline: ‘Is Molly Riot Gay?’”

“Psh,” Dan said absently, not even looking up from his
sketchbook. “Of course we are. Like that’s even a question.” I watched him for
a minute, as he somehow managed to take a cigarette out of his pack, bring it
to his mouth, find his lighter and light the end of it without ever taking his
gaze away from the sketch in front of him or slowing with his pencil.

“We just stopped getting questions about that after that one
guy from
Miami Scene
saw Jules kiss Nick,” Alex said with a sigh.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Though true story: after that article
came out, I got
so
much tail. It was great.”

“How can you tell a difference?” Jules smirked at me.
“Skinny Nicky with the big blue eyes and supermodel lips. When did you lose
your vcard again? Fourteen?” I rolled my eyes.

“I lost it at the civilized age of sixteen, thank you. You
should remember; I hooked you up with that girl’s friend.”

“If we’re going to keep waiting, I’m going to grab a beer,”
Mark said finally, finishing off the staccato drumming with a flourish.

“Grab me one too,” Jules called as Mark started for the
door, headed to the kitchenette.

“Me too!” Dan thirded the order, and Alex asked for a
coffee, and we settled in to wait for the interviewer to finally get there.

 

****

“Guys, next interviewer is here.” Katie, our manager’s
assistant, poked her head through the door as she called into the room.

“Let him in, then! We’ve been waiting an extra ten minutes,”
Jules said, taking another gulp of his beer.

“Her, actually,” Katie said archly, opening the door wider.
It was a good thing she’d given us the warning; I was at least prepared to see
a woman walk into the room. What I wasn’t prepared for was a cute-looking girl
with short, magenta hair and dark eyes, and a body that could have come out of
a
Playboy
from the 60s. Her cheeks were almost as pink as her hair, and
she was wearing a tight Unsung Zeros tee shirt with a pair of jeans that fit
her like a fucking glove and a beat up pair of Docs that had to have come from
her older sister or something—they looked that ancient. “Unsung Zeros!” I
snickered at the excitement in Mark’s voice. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen one of
those shirts in like, ten years.”

“Did you get it from your sister?” The woman rolled her eyes
at Alex’s question.

“Nope, I just went to an all-ages show. Pompano Beach Skate
Park let in five-year-olds, they weren’t going to keep a teenager out.” The
woman slung the strap of her bag around to her front, taking a quick breath
that strained the fabric of her shirt. She smiled. “I’m Olivia Grant from
Record
Spin
, by the way.”

“At least they sent us a cute interviewer,” Mark said,
grinning at Olivia.

“But are you any good?” Jules pulled himself up off of the
console, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m not really the best person to ask,” Olivia said. She
glanced around the room for a moment until they landed on one of the few
unoccupied chairs. “After all, even if I was bad, would you expect me to say
so? That’d doom the interview right from the start.” I snorted. Olivia grabbed
the chair and pulled it into the middle of the control room.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Katie said, ducking back through
the door and closing it behind her.

“So,” Alex said, looking at our interviewer speculatively.
“How are we going to do this?”

“You guys have been doing interviews since eight o’clock
this morning,” Olivia said, glancing at each of us in turn. I fought back the
urge to grin at her.
Feisty, feisty. Might be fun.
For an instant, a
flash flitted through my head: she’d be totally in control in bed; not afraid
to tell a guy what she wanted. I imagined her underneath me, head thrown back,
dark eyes closed, magenta hair tousled and mussed against my pillow, moaning
out.
She probably gets soaking wet at the drop of the hat, if you kiss her
just right.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know how an interview goes by now.”

“Well yeah,” Dan said, uncrossing and then crossing his legs
once more. “But we want to see how you handle the situation. Your—like—original
spin on the concept.” Olivia grinned, and there was the devil of a glint in her
dark eyes that made me want to grab her and kiss her just right, right then.

“How about this?” Olivia opened her bag and took out a
recorder. She tucked one foot underneath the rolling chair and propelled
herself a little further into the middle of the room. I glanced around at my
band mates: we were all more than a little intrigued at her movements as she
plugged two microphone into the machine, pointing them at the opposite ends of
the room. “We’ll chat. You can ask me questions—though I don’t promise to
answer—and I’ll ask you questions, and whatever ends up being relevant to my
article goes in.”

“What if we want something to not end up in your article?”
Olivia looked sideways at Jules; he always hated interviews.

“Then say ‘off the record’ and I will make sure it never
gets transcribed.”

“But if it’s recording, then by definition it’s
on
the record.”

“I’ll give you a copy of my edited recordings before I
submit them to the magazine, so that you know it didn’t make the
official
record. How about that?” I looked at Jules sharply, and I knew Alex was doing
the same—but for a different reason.

“That’s fine,” Jules said with a shrug. Olivia pressed a
button on the recorder and it let out a beep.

“If you guys would take turns saying your names and your
willingness to be recorded, we can get started on this,” she said, pushing back
from the machine and looking around the room at each of us.

We each took turns doing as we were asked. “Can we ask you a
question first?” Olivia snorted, shaking her head with a smile.

“One or the other of you have asked me about four questions
by now,” Olivia pointed out tartly.

“Yeah,” I said, getting into the teasing mood, “but that was
before the interview started.” Olivia looked at me and raised an eyebrow a
fraction of an inch.

“Okay,” she said. Her tongue darted out over her lips.
“Fine. Go ahead.”

“Are you single?” I stifled my laughter at Dan’s question.

“I am,” Olivia said, pink-red color lighting up her cheeks
again.

“Come on guys,” Alex said, his voice a bit sharp. “Let’s
keep it a little bit professional, right?”

“I just wanted to get my chance in before Nicky charms the
pants off of her,” Dan said with a shrug. I saw Olivia’s blush deepen, and
there was something so cute about it. She glanced at me and I saw her eyes
narrow distrustfully for just a fraction of a second.

“Since I’ve done my research,” Olivia said, turning her
attention back onto Dan, “I think I’m pretty safe in regards to keeping my
pants on.”

“Oh!” Mark beamed, throwing his arms up in a victory pose.
“Let me get you some ice, Nicky.” I rolled my eyes.

“That wasn’t a burn,” I said, throwing my spare lighter at
Mark.

“Can we get started on the actual interview conversation
now?” Olivia glanced at each one of us. I could see how difficult it was for
her to push down the embarrassment she was feeling.

“Yeah, let’s get to work on this,” I agreed.

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