I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) (14 page)

“You haven’t put me through anything. This is my job. It’s what I do.”

“And not once on a job has anyone done something nice just for you?”

“They’re not supposed to.” She headed to the closet, pulled a pretty silk tunic over her tank top, and slipped her feet into black flats. “I have to go.”

“Give me a second to shut down my computer.”

“Why?”

“I’m coming with you.” He shifted the mouse, clicked out of the windows on his screen, and shut the laptop.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He reached for her hand, brought it to his mouth, and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. “But I want to.”

They came out of the bedroom to find Slater and Emmie talking quietly in the kitchen.

“Where you off to?” Slater set his coffee mug down.

“Meeting Bax.” Violet looked toward Derek, wanting to
lean against him, touch his arm, anything to be
with
him. “He’s coming with me.”

“You still think Bax is the supplier?” Slater asked.

“I will so kick his ass if he is,” Emmie said. “What a lousy thing to do.”

Cooper came out of his bedroom, wearing running shorts. “Hey, do we have time to hit the boxing gym before we head to the park?”

Violet wanted to pump a fist in the air. Cooper was a good guy; she’d known that from the beginning. But he’d offered her a lot of resistance, making it easier for Ben and Pete to follow suit.

“We’ve got sound check at three,” Emmie began.

“More than enough time,” Derek said.

Tonight they played the Maryland State Fair. And after the private party the night before, she figured the guys would rather sleep in. “I didn’t book us gym time, though,” Violet said. “I figured you guys would stay out late last night and want to sleep in.”

“That’s cool. I’ll just hit the hotel gym.” Cooper looked to the others. “You guys want to come with me?”

“Can’t,” Derek said.

Cooper looked between them. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to talk to Bax.”

Violet watched his features carefully. He froze, but then, the longer he looked at Derek, the more resigned he became. That’s when she knew.

“Has Bax ever given you drugs?” She gave him a chance to come clean.

But his eyes never left Derek, resolve burning in them. “You’re right. We do leave all the business shit to you, always have. I guess you were willing to do it . . . I don’t know. It didn’t occur to me to step in. Well, it did. But I guess I didn’t want to. I wanted to have fun.”

Derek nodded carefully.

And then Cooper looked at her. “Yeah, he did. It started when we were in the city. He got us whatever we wanted.”

“Why’d you lie, man?” Derek asked. “We’ve got a fucking problem here, Coop. You shouldn’t have lied.”

“Honestly, it didn’t seem like a big deal. I thought you
guys were making more out of it than there was. But yeah, I fucked up.” And then he seemed to shake off his guilt. “Ben and I were talking and we don’t want to be, like, the kids in the band. You know? You and Slater are the mom and dad, and we’re the assholes in the backseat distracting the driver.”

She smiled at that surprisingly insightful description.

“We’re gonna step up. Clean up our act.” He gestured to the bedroom. “He’s talking to Pete right now.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. We both are.”

Derek stood still, looking like he was barely breathing. “Thanks, man. That means a lot to me.” He gave a quick nod, looked away.

Cooper started for the door. “You want me to hang around? Talk to Bax with you?”

Violet should’ve been in the lobby ten minutes ago. “Let me get down there. I don’t want to keep him waiting. You guys can decide how you want to handle things.”

“No,” Derek said. “Ask him to come up here.”

“You can’t put him on the spot,” Slater said. “He won’t talk.”

“If he thinks he’s talking to Violet alone, he will,” Derek said. “We’ll wait in the bedroom, see how he reacts. Time to put this shit to bed.”

“Agreed.”

“I don’t need to play games,” Violet said. “I’ll get the truth from him.”

“I know you will.” Derek’s smile told her all she needed to know about his opinion of her. His admiration. She didn’t think anyone had ever made her feel as good about herself as he did. “I want to listen in, make sure things stay cool.”

As long as they stayed hidden. “Okay.” She texted the record executive, asked him to come up to the room.

Within five minutes, the rest of them had gone into her bedroom, leaving the door open. She let Bax in, his shaggy hair hanging in his eyes, his belt buckled so tightly his little belly hung over it.

“Hey.” He seemed nervous, coming in and looking around. “Everyone at the gym?”

“Hey, Bax. Thanks for coming up. Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure. What d’you got?”

“Only water. We’re checking out soon, so we cleared out the fridge already.”

“Water’s fine. So what’s up? What’s going on?”

She headed to the kitchen, reached for a clean glass, and filled it with cold water from the sink. “I think you know the problems we’re having with Pete.”

He let out a frustrated breath. “No, I don’t. I mean, yeah, I get you didn’t like what you saw last night, but he didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe you shouldn’t come to the parties. Give the guys some time alone. It kind of sucks that you’re making them feel bad for having some fun.”

She handed him the glass. “Pete doesn’t look like he’s having much fun to me. He seems manic. I think he’s got too many chemicals in his system, and it’s making him a little crazy.”

“Okay.” His fingers tightened on the glass. “So what do you want from me? I mean, no offense, but last night you didn’t walk in on him shooting up or anything. You walked in on him fucking. Nothing wrong with that. Maybe you shouldn’t judge him so bad just because he likes to fuck girls.”

“I’m not sure he understood who he was fucking, you know? If he’d known it was Mike’s girlfriend, would it have still been fun? Would Irwin think that was fun? Honestly, Bax, I don’t think Pete knows what he’s doing. He’s kind of all over the place.”

“Oh, Christ. Listen to you. You’re in the wrong business. This is rock and roll, sweetheart. This is how we do things. You honestly think if Mike’s girl’s hooking up with Pete Larson that she’s not fucking anything with a hard dick?”

“I don’t care who she’s with as long as it isn’t someone in Blue Fire. But I can always confirm it with Irwin.”

“Fuck.”
He tipped his head back, shaking his head. “Look, I get that you did a good job with Caroline, but that girl’s a fuckin’ psycho slut. These guys, come on, these guys are great.
Irwin
thinks they’re great. They worked their asses off in the studio for nearly a year. So why shouldn’t they have fun on the road?” He leaned into her. “They’re rock stars, sweetheart. This is what rock stars do.”

“You do realize Irwin doesn’t want them doing drugs.”

“What the hell do you know about Irwin? Just because you got his skanky daughter in line doesn’t mean you know shit about him. I work with him every day—I know what he wants. And he wants these guys happy. You don’t take rock stars on the road and give them
curfews
, make them eat spinach, and do
yoga
. Fuck, if that’s the way we did things, who’d want to be a fucking musician?”

“I think you’re playing a very dangerous game. Right now you think you’re controlling the amount of substances they take. You think you’ve got a handle on the situation. And maybe with Ben and Cooper you’re right. But you’re wrong with Pete. He’s spiraling out of control, and I’m telling you not to give him any more drugs.”

“Listen here, sweetheart, you don’t tell me any-fucking-thing, got that? I’ll give them whatever they ask me for because they’re grown-ups and get to make their own decisions.”

“Pete’s
addicted
, Bax. You’re giving an addict drugs. You went way past letting him make his own decisions. You’ve become dangerous to him and everyone in the band.”

“Fuck you, bitch.” With a flick of his wrist, he doused her in cold water.

Derek rushed out of the bedroom. “Motherfucker, did you touch her? Did you fucking touch her?” He twisted Bax’s arm behind his back, bringing the smaller man to his knees, and then he reached for a dish towel and handed it to her. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

She shook her head as she patted herself dry. The other guys joined them in the kitchen, everyone talking at once.

Slater pulled Bax away, and Derek reached for her, cupping her cheeks and lifting her face to him. “You okay?”

She nodded, blinking, trembling with shock. “Of course. It’s just a little water.” And then she realized they were all watching, and she pulled away from him with a soft laugh. “Let me just go change.” Before she left them, she looked to Emmie. “You want to call Irwin?”

“You bet I do.” She pulled out her phone. “I got it from here.”

The moment the sound engineer finished with Derek, he set his bass down. From his place on the stage he scanned the outdoor venue for Violet. He hadn’t seen her since they’d started sound check.

The lighting engineer played with the lights, Slater squatted near the front of the stage to chat up some fans, and Ben set up his drum kit.

“Stand back, I’m gonna shred your face off,” Cooper said into the mic, and he started strumming.

After they’d fired Bax and sent him on his way, Derek had gotten to spend the day alone with Violet at the state fair. He’d had the best time. Seriously, corny as shit, but watching Violet’s face light up on the Ferris wheel, petting the pigs, or eating her first fried Oreo, had made him happier than just about anything he could ever remember.

She’d never gotten to be a kid. She’d never even
tasted
cotton candy. He’d won her a huge stuffed animal, made out with her during a milking demonstration, and held her hand on a rickety wooden roller coaster.

Happiness buzzed through him, so glad he’d taken the time to give her some fun away from the stress of her job with the band.

And then he spotted her, sitting in the back row, the huge orange and white stuffed cat on the seat next to her. Twisting a lock of hair in a finger, she had her shoulders slumped, cell phone in her hand.

Derek jumped off the stage.

“Dude, where you going?” Slater called.

“Be right back.” He took off down the center aisle. The closer he came, the more he recognized fear in her eyes.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Sitting beside her, he reached for her hand.

“It’s nothing.” She popped up, like she was ready to jump back into work mode.

“Nuh-uh.” He gripped her hips, pulling her onto his lap, and then belted his arms around her.

Right away, she gave in to him, her body relaxing around him. Her scent drifted into his senses, and he held her close. “Talk to me.”

“You remember the realtor who came to my farm?”

He nodded, stroking her silky hair.

“So my friend Francesca faxed my contract to the Walkers’ attorney. We just heard back today. He said they think I took advantage of an old man. That the price he offered me is well below market value. They’re going to contest it.”

“Wait, did you call the attorney I got you?”

She shook her head. “She works in the same firm as a man I know. I didn’t want to . . . I wanted to wait, see if they’d accept my contract. I mean, I knew it was a long shot, but I wanted to wait.”

“It’s the biggest firm in the city. Is your guy in property law?”

She shook her head.

“Then I doubt he’ll find out.”

She gave him a look. “He’s not my guy.”

“But I’ll bet he wanted to be.”

She smiled, shook her head. “I never went out with him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

But he could tell from her smile the guy wanted more. “He wanted you.”

“Derek.”

“Fine. You’ll call her now, right? My mom’s worked with her before. She’s expecting your call.”

“I’ll call.”

“So they think you took advantage, huh?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t. He stayed sharp all the way until the end. You can ask anyone at the nursing home. His body weakened, but his mind never did. He
wanted
me to have that land. And I’ve never missed a payment. I’ve always paid more when I had the money. I would never take advantage of Jed. He was like a grandfather to me.”

“Hey, look at me. No one who knows you would think you took advantage of anyone. You’re the most honest, direct, and forthright person I’ve ever met. You’re fucking amazing, V.”

“Then why do you keep trying to get in my pants?”

He stilled. She was right. She was absolutely right.

Burying his face in her sweetly scented neck, he blew out a breath. “Because I want you.”

She touched his chin, lifting his mouth to hers. And for the first time she kissed him, hot and full of want. “And I want you, too. But boinking you for a few weeks on the road would only make me feel cheap and then lonely and used when I leave you guys behind. You don’t want that for me, do you?”

“No.” But why did she have to leave them behind?

Reverb screeched, and they both turned to the stage. Cooper was laughing his head off, and Slater covered his ears.

“I have to get back up there.” He kissed her cheek. “Call that attorney. We’ll take care of it. We’ll take care of everything.”

•   •   •

The
reporter lurched forward at the mention of Steve Bailey’s fretless bass. “He was the runner-up bass player of the year in ’94 and ’96, man.”

Derek appreciated the guy’s enthusiasm. With Bax out of the picture, everyone felt more comfortable partying in the hotel room. So after the gig, they’d brought Vince and some of the other roadies, people from the record company, and a few select reporters back with them.

Violet sat on Derek’s lap, her fingers sifting through his hair. He gripped her upper thigh, and it took all he had not to let it slide up her smooth skin to find the Promised Land.

“Yeah, but you know why he started playing a fretless bass, right?” Derek asked the reporter. This guy was good. He didn’t ask stupid questions, and he clearly had a passion for music.

“Actually, I don’t know.” He smiled, looking eager for more details.

“He ran over his fretted bass with his Toyota when he was fourteen.”

The reporter laughed. “That’s great. Good story. Well, you’ve mastered it, man, you’re as good as Bailey himself.”

“I don’t know about that, but we don’t like effects. We like to make our own sound, you know? Plus, I really like the larger shift in pitch.”

The guy nodded. “Cool, cool. So, uh, let me ask you one more question. I guess everyone’s kind of wondering the same thing, but I’m not sure anyone’s just come right out with it. So I’m going to take my shot.”

Hopefully, he wouldn’t ask about the rise to fame or what it felt like to have a guy with movie star good looks fronting the band. He hated shit like that. Everyone asked the same douche questions. Whatever, he had pat answers for all of them.

“Your dad said recently—”

Dread squeezed the base of his spine. What the hell had Eddie said now? Violet’s hand tightened around the back of his neck, her fingers caressing his skin. Delicately, she rubbed the rim of his earlobe.

“Is this cool?” the guy said, making Derek realize he hadn’t hidden his reaction.

“I don’t . . .” He was going to say he didn’t want to talk about his dad, but that would only draw more attention to the situation. “I don’t care. Ask away.”

“Okay, well, in the last
Rolling Stone
, your dad said he was self-taught and believed that the true musician didn’t take hours of formal lessons. A true musician got lost in the music and taught himself just because he couldn’t do anything
but
play. He said this generation—and by that I think
he clearly means
you
—isn’t like that. This generation doesn’t care about the music. It just wants fame. He’s made a lot of references to tattoos and model girlfriends and out-of-control partying. I know you’ve heard all this shit before, but I don’t think anyone’s ever asked you flat out how it makes you feel. I mean, it’s your
dad
. But maybe he’s not referring to you. Maybe you guys sit down for Sunday night dinner every week and talk about the same things. Maybe you agree that this generation’s all flash and no substance. But, you know, you’ve got the tattoos and you’ve had the model girlfriends with the big public blowouts.” He looked to Violet. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no, don’t be sorry.” She flashed him a big smile. Then she turned to Derek and said—as if they were the only two people in the room, “Wasn’t your dad a jazz virtuoso?”

Derek nodded, not sure where she was going with this.

“That’s what I thought. Well, a man who’s known worldwide as a jazz virtuoso isn’t going to trade that reputation in for bitter-guy-who-bad-mouths-his-own-son, right? So, of course he doesn’t mean it the way you’re suggesting.” She rolled her eyes. “You guys have to stop looking for sensational angles. He’s a guy. Guys give each other shit. No way would he damage his own reputation like that.”

Both Derek and the reporter stared at her. A rush of affection flooded him so hard, it pushed out all thought from his mind. And then he looked at the reporter, and the two of them burst out laughing.

“Can I quote you on that?” he asked her.

Her arm went around him, and she hugged Derek close, pressing those delectable breasts to his cheek. “It’s up to my man.”

Her man. Desire roared through him. The slightest turn of his head and he’d sink his face into that cleavage. Fuck, he needed her. “I think she said it perfectly.”

After they shook hands, another reporter came up.

“Hey, can I have a few minutes?” the woman asked.

Oh, hell, no. “Sorry, maybe another time?” He needed to be alone with his girl.
Now.
He stood up, grabbing Violet’s hand.

The girl looked disappointed. “How about I email you some questions?”

“Absolutely. Get a hold of Genevieve Babineaux, and she’ll send your questions to me.”

He steered through the crowded living area, heading to the stereo to lower the volume. Then, he towed her into the bedroom and bolted the door.

“What are you doing?”

“This.” Cupping her face, he kissed her. He was wild about this girl. His tongue licked into her mouth, and his hips locked with hers.

She jerked back from him.

Not a chance would she push him away. “Violet.”

Her gaze drifted to his mouth, making his dick throb. Oh, fuck, there was nothing on this earth that was going to keep him from touching her. He wanted her with a ferocity that rendered him mindless. He cupped the back of her head as he took that sweet mouth of hers.

She leaned into him, her mouth opening just enough to give him a hint of all the dark, hot passion inside. When her hands slid into his back pockets and she squeezed his ass lustily, she cut off the oxygen from his lungs.

He couldn’t speak. His body vibrated with need. And when her hips kicked forward, pressing hard against him, any restraint he might have had flew out in a dizzying rush. And then he was kissing her, unleashing all that urgent, wicked passion.

She tasted like iced tea, she smelled like wildflowers on a hot summer day, and when her hands pushed under his T-shirt and touched his skin, he burst into flames.

“Violet.” Even her name made him wild. It conjured up so much beauty and peace and the fiercest desire he’d ever known. “I want you. Oh, fuck, I want you.”

Her fingers curled, nails digging into his skin. She hitched a leg over his hip, aligning their bodies. He pressed hard, grinding against her core, his dick pulsing.

He had to touch her, just had to. His hand slid under her dress, and once he hit bare, warm flesh, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Gripping her ass, he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands clutched the back of his head.

Depositing her on the bed, his body covered her, and his hand skimmed up her soft, smooth skin, only to fight against the waistband of her dress. Dammit, he needed to touch her breasts.

“Take this off.” He didn’t even recognize his strangled voice.

“Derek.”

But she didn’t stop him from reaching underneath her and finding the zipper. She sat up, and he peeled the dress off her. His pulse accelerated when he saw the lush mounds of her breasts barely contained within pale pink lace. Reaching behind her, his lips skimmed her cheeks as he unhooked the bra, lowered the straps, and tossed it aside.

The moment his mouth covered that beaded nipple, she gasped, her hand going around the back of his head and holding him in place. He lowered himself on top of her again, plunging his jeans-covered erection between her thighs, his need fueled by her moans and urgent exhalations. He slid his hand under the elastic band of her panties, one finger slipping into her curls, touching the slick heat of her. Oh, damn, she was wet and so ready for him.

She
wanted
him.

And then he found her sensitive nub and stroked it. Rearing back, she clutched his head to her breast. “Oh, God.”

He licked the other nipple, tongue pulling hard, and her hips rocked in rhythm with his finger. He wanted more. He wanted so much more—
fuck
she felt so good. It was killing him, making him wild, but he couldn’t risk her pushing him away. Couldn’t bear it.

“Derek.”
Her neck arched, her fingers curled into fists.

Oh, fuck, did he need more. He slid his fingers inside her tight channel, his thumb rubbing faster, tighter circles on her clit. Her hips left the mattress as she bucked hard. He pulled back, needing to watch her features seize in perfect ecstasy.

Her eyelids drifted closed, her mouth opened, and she moaned his name. And then her whole body convulsed as she cried out. Hips rocking slowly, she settled back down, rolled her head toward him.

He didn’t even get a moment to enjoy her pleasure
before fear got a hold of her. As soon as that awful moment of reality hit, he covered her mouth with a kiss, his cock so painfully hard he thought he’d die without release.

Relief rushed him when she returned the passion of his kiss. When her mouth opened, her body turned toward him, her hand gripped a handful of his hair. Lost in everything Violet, he moved on top of her, thrusting his hips and grinding his cock against her.

She arched off the mattress, releasing a cry, and then suddenly everything changed.

She pushed him away, scrambling off the bed. “Oh, God. Oh, dammit.” Jamming both hands in her hair, she spun away from him. “
God.
What am I
doing
?”

His cock more than hurt. The pain was unbearable. He couldn’t even speak, couldn’t look at her.

“Derek. We can’t do this. I can’t—this is my job. My
career
.”

“Fuck, Violet.” He rolled out of bed.
“Fuck.”

Her gaze shot to the door, obviously worried the others would hear them. They couldn’t, of course. The music was too loud. And anyway, he couldn’t think past the horrendous pain of blue balls.