Bad For Me (My Forbidden Rockstar) (8 page)

I’m gasping now, and my body is still trembling from my
orgasm. I’ve emptied all of myself into Brittany, and she pulls off, wiping her
mouth daintily with the back of her hand. She knows me well enough to give me
my space, and she stands up, running her hands over my thighs. She saunters, still
topless, across the room, and goes to look out my bedroom window.

Trying to catch my breath, I brush my hand through my hair
and shake my head to get rid of thoughts of Annie. Why can't I just focus on the
half-naked woman in my room?

“That was great,” I pant.

Brittany turns back around and grins at me. “Anything for
Dom Dresden,” she murmurs.

It’s fucking awesome and fucking horrible all at the same
time.

I get whatever ass I want, but in this moment, I feel dirty
and used.

I totally used Brittany, and yet in one easy sentence, she
made it clear that she only sucked me off because I’m a rock star.

I stand up quickly, and yank my boxers and jeans back up. I
toss Brittany her shirt, and she reaches out, surprised, to catch it.

“This has been really fun,” I say, buttoning my fly.

“Yeah, but you have shit to do, right?” she says, her voice
hard now.

I give her a helpless shrug. “I’m sure your man will be home
soon.”

I can never remember the fucker’s name.

“Oh, well, yeah. He will be.” She seems to forget that she
has a husband. She looks at her watch. “Roberto will be home in thirty minutes,
so I need to go anyway.”

Just as well. She doesn’t seem as pissed now that I’m
kicking her out, and I’m relieved that I don’t have to fuck her.

Brittany pulls her shirt over her head and gives me a
wistful look. I can tell she would rather be with me than Roberto, but
whatever. I walk her to the door, the sooner to get her the hell out of my
house. I don’t know why I feel dirty, but I do. I stand in the doorway and
watch her perfectly round ass get into her car and then drive away.

Relief floods through me as I close the door. I look around
my house.

“I hate this fucking place.”

I grab my keys and get into my car.

I’d rather be anywhere but here.

Chapter Eight

Annie

Time has a funny way of speeding up and slowing down. The
night after Dom stalked out of my apartment seemed to drag on, no matter how
hard Elle tried to cheer me up. Then the following day at the studio with Ben
flew by again, and I couldn’t believe it when we wrapped up just before two.

I nailed the songs again, and thankfully I didn’t pick up
any weird, flirtatious vibes with him during the session.

That night Elle and I poured over my small wardrobe, trying
to determine what I should wear to my first Diesel rehearsal.

Holy crap.

My first rehearsal.

With Diesel.

I am psyched and terrified all at the same time. I feel
confident in my abilities, and even though Dom is an arrogant shit, I really
believe he is confident in me, too. But I am beyond nervous to meet the other
band mates and backup singers. What if they think I suck? What if they don’t
like me? It's like freaking high school all over again.

It’s the morning of the first rehearsal, and I’m standing in
my room, still dripping wet from the shower, scrutinizing the outfit Elle and I
had picked out the night before.

“Elle!” I yell from my room. I know Elle is awake and
getting ready for work.

She stumbles into my room with hot rollers in her hair and
half a face of makeup on.

“What?”

“What if this outfit is all wrong? Did we make the wrong
choice?”

She rolls her eyes, and huffs; I know that I am really
trying her patience. After all, it is just a rehearsal.

“I really, really appreciate all your help,” I say quickly,
not wanting to piss her off anymore.

“The outfit is great, Annie. You’re over analyzing. Just get
dressed and get the hell out of here.” She’s smiling as she says it.

Elle is right; I’m completely over analyzing. I quickly blow
dry my hair and dress in the black leggings, boots and sexy gray v-neck shirt.
I throw a few long pendant necklaces around my neck, and do slightly darker
black eyeliner than normal.

I step back to survey my appearance. I look sexy, but not
slutty, and put-together without looking over the top. I’m not sure who I’m
trying to impress, and I remind myself that I don’t give a shit what Dom
thinks.

I’m so screwed.

I grab a couple bottles of water, and do one more check in
the mirror. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, so I yell good-bye to Elle and leave.

The ride to the rehearsal space is short, which is good
considering my nerves are on edge. It’s an old warehouse, with tons of room for
everyone involved. We’ll work here until we move to the Honda Center, where
Diesel will kick off the first show of the tour. We’ll get two full
run-throughs at the Honda Center, and that will be it, then it's live in front
of 10's of thousands of screaming fans.

I fight the urge to vomit as I get out of my car and walk
across the parking lot. There aren’t too many cars, and I know that will change
as we go further into rehearsals and more behind-the-scenes people begin to
show up.

I step into the building and look around. I see two women by
a piano, heads bent close together as they look at some music. They must be the
other two backup singers.

And then I see Dom, he looks like he stepped out of a
magazine, wearing holey jeans and a ratty t-shirt. His hair is as wild as ever,
and he seems to be in a heated conversation with a muscular guy who has thick,
wavy blonde hair.

As if he feels my presence, Dom whirls around and our eyes
meet. I see a myriad of emotions in his eyes before his mask of cool arrogance
slides back in place.

“Hey,” he says, as he makes his way towards me.

We hadn’t parted on the best of terms, but I decide to be
nice.

“Hey,” I say in a small voice, forcing a smile.

He laughs out loud. “That was a pretty sad smile.”

“Okay, well I’m nervous!” I shoot back. I can feel my arms
start to shake.

He takes pity on me, and snakes his arm around my waist.

Oh god, that feels amazing
.

I notice him stiffen a bit, and I wonder if he can feel my
heart frantically beating against my rib cage.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispers, “I’ll take you around to
meet everybody.”

I feel like I have whiplash after going from Douche bag Dom,
to sweet, protective Dominic Dresden.

I can’t speak, but I nod my consent and I let Dom lead me
across the room.

“First, let’s meet the band.”

We’re standing in front of three guys who I vaguely
recognize as the other members of Diesel. Of course, being the front man, Dom
always got the most press, especially with his killer good looks and sensual
singing voice.

“This here is Johnny-boy, our bass player,” Dom says
playfully, ribbing a baby-faced guy in the gut. The guy grins at me, he tosses
his blonde hair from his face, and I notice he has two adorable dimples. He
looks way too sweet to be in this band.

“Hi, Annie,” he says. He shakes my hand, and I don’t dare
ask how he already knows my name.

“Johnny here is the pretty boy and our little brother, so we
have to take good care of him for his mommy,” Dom teases.

“Fuck off,” Johnny says, grinning wildly.

“This is Avery,” Dom continues, motioning to the brooding
guy by the drums. Avery’s dark features break into a friendly smile and he waves
at me.

I wave back.

“We’ve heard
lots
about you,” he says, emphasizing
the word
lots.

Dom shoots him a look that shuts him right up.

“And lastly, this is Jenner, our keyboard player.”

Jenner jumps up to shake my hand. I take in his long
scraggly brown hair and kind brown eyes.

“Jenner’s an interesting name,” I say, trying to make
conversation.

The other guys snicker.

“What?” Did I miss something?

“Well, Jenner is actually his last name,” Dom explains.

“Oh. Well I like it.”

Avery snorts and Jenner smacks the back of his head.

“What? What am I missing?”

“Don’t you want to know his first name?” Dom asks.

“Shut up, Dom,” Jenner says, going back to his keyboards.

“Ashleigh!” Avery calls out gleefully. The guys start
laughing like a bunch of fifteen-year old boys.

“Yeah, yeah, so fucking funny,” Jenner says dryly, playing a
quick melody.

“I kind of like it.”

“Thank you, see.” Jenner says, flashing me a killer smile.
Wow. He looks totally different when he smiles. “It’s a family name, but it
sounds a little too pussy for a rock band.”

“Whatever, I like it.”

“Thanks, but you can still call me Jenner.”

The guys start banging out one of the new songs, and Dom
steers me away. I can’t believe how friendly the rest of the band seems, and
I’m having a hard time concentrating with Dom’s hand pressed against the small
of back.

Damn, how can his skin feel so hot through my shirt? Or
maybe it’s just me?

“Let’s meet the other backup singers,” he says softly. He
leads the way toward the group of women, when all the sudden his phone starts
buzzing in his pocket. He stops, and frowns.

“It’s my mom. I have to take this. Just go on over and
introduce yourself. They’re expecting you.”

He leaves me standing there as he answers the phone and
walks away. He doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who takes calls from his
mom during rehearsal, but maybe they’re closer than I realize. I feel like my
stomach is going to drop out as I make my way over to the two women by the
piano.

“Hi,” I say quietly, and they turn around to survey me. “I’m
Annie.”

One of the girls is short and curvy with wild, curly red
hair and she smiles at me before beckoning me closer.

“Hi, I’m Liz. This is Mel.”

Mel smiles at me but doesn’t make eye contact. Instead she
gives me a quick once-over, probably judging my outfit. I get the strange
feeling that she doesn’t like me already. Instead of saying hello, she just
gives me a limp wave. I’m already intimidated, and Mel’s standoffish greeting
doesn’t help. She’s long and leggy, dressed in skintight black jeans and a
tight green blouse, and she stands confidently in a pair of four inch black
heels. Her straight, jet-black hair hangs down to her waist. Her skin is a warm
olive tone, and I notice her high cheekbones, strong jaw, and her stunning pale
green eyes.

I feel mousy in comparison.

Mel turns her back to me and begins to talk to Liz, rudely
leaving me out of the conversation. Thankfully Liz opens her body towards me
and beckons for me to come closer.

“We were just going over some of the new songs,” Liz
explains. “We heard that you had a few lessons and are already killing it.”

“Yes, I had a few. I hope I’m caught up with you guys.” I
say modestly.

I edge closer to the piano, and look at the music they’re
holding. I can feel disdain rolling off Mel in waves.

It’s a struggle not roll my eyes at her. I know I’m going to
feel timid and shy for about one more day, before I get sick of dealing with
this girl’s bullshit.

I don’t recognize the song they are looking at it, and I see
that it only has backup vocals for two women.

“Oh, I must not be part of this one,” I say foolishly,
backing away.

Liz looks at me with confusion.

“Please,” Mel says sarcastically under her breath. Clearly
she’s not the most patient person.

“This is your part,” Liz says, pointing out some of the
melody and lyrics.

I laugh. “It’s definitely not. I’m just a backup singer,
like you guys.”

Liz’s eyes widen. “Did they not tell you? This is the song
where your voice is featured. Mel and I are singing back up.”

I look back and forth between the girls, I don’t believe
what they’re saying. Liz seems sincerely surprised that I am clueless, and Mel
just looks pissed off.

“No way. I know nothing about this.”

Liz smiles broadly, “It’s true. The band was very clear
about it.”

“Must be nice to just waltz right in and get featured in a
song,” Mel says scathingly.

Alright, I need to set the record straight.

“Look.” I say, “I know I just met both of you, but I’m
telling you now I know nothing about this.”

Mel rolls her eyes at me. I know she’s jealous that she
didn’t get picked.

I snatch the sheet music out of Mel’s hand, much to her
surprise, and march over to Dom who is now working with the band.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask, unable to keep the
edge out of my voice.

“Sure.”

He steps aside and I thrust the sheet music in his hands.