Rock n' Roll All Night (2 page)

And then
as swift as a tiger he swept his lips over hers. The contact was brief but it
felt like she’d just chucked back half a dozen shots of whisky rather than two.
Warmth and a tingling sensation shot all the way down to her pussy.

When he
drew back, there was a look of smug satisfaction on his face. “I’m going to win
you back, babe. You’ll see.” With that, he shoved himself away and chucked back
his whisky. “So, you going to show me around?”

Jackson
sat backstage and murmured his thanks as one of the bar staff handed him a
bottle of water. The pretty blonde thing paused and offered him an inviting
smile but he did his best to ignore it. Once upon a time, maybe he would have
been interested but not now. Jazz may have turned him down, but there was no
way he was giving up that easily. Hell, even he could recognise how much she
needed someone in her life. From the state of her apartment, he could tell
she’d been working all hours. He admired her ambition—he’d been the same once.
And though he still had a certain amount of it, his priorities had changed.
There was more to life than work.

The roar
of the crowd filtered through the curtains. The bar wasn’t huge but it was
jammed with rockers of all ages. He peered around and noted the expectant
faces. Once he’d felt like that about music, in the days when he and Jazz just
hung out listening to music and watching videos on Kerrang
.
Hopefully
working with some fresh blood would bring back his enthusiasm. He still loved
to perform but it didn’t fulfil him the same way it used to.

Jazz
hurried up to him, looking harassed. Damn, the woman worked too hard. He
couldn’t wait to help her chill out. Bring back some of that idealistic, funny,
rock chick. Guilt made his gut clench. No doubt he had a good part to play in
destroying that side of her. From what he could find out, she’d pretty much
kept herself to herself, barely dating over the years. Lenny had filled him in
a little during sound check, including about the problems the club faced
financially. He was rich enough but he doubted she’d let him give her any
money. However, a few performances from Jackson Wilde was sure to bring in
plenty of cash and repeat customers.

If
she’d let him come back.

Yeah, she
would. He smirked when she paused in front of him and her gaze tracked his
body. Tonight, he was going to make sure of that.

“Are you
set?” she asked breathlessly, making Jackson wonder if she’d sound like that in
bed.

It had been
a long time for them both—maybe she’d learned a few new things. He sure had but
he didn’t want to think about Jazz’s past lovers. What they’d had was special.
That kind of sweet sex that you don’t quite know what you’re doing but somehow
it still ends up totally awesome. He’d always kinda hoped they would learn
other stuff together but he fucked that up.

He blinked
when he realised he was staring at her. “Yeah, I’m set.”She handed him the mike
and he flashed her a grin. “A kiss for luck?”

Jazz
jerked back. It had been a tradition when the band first started up. She always
gave him a kiss for luck. “I-I don’t think so.”

“Aw, go
on. You don’t want me messing up out there do you?”

One slim
brow raised and she propped her hands on hips. “I don’t—” She threw up her
hands as he used his most imploring face. “Oh fine.”

His
triumphant grin slipped when she stepped closer and brushed her lips over his
cheek. Before she could retreat, he snatched her forearms and held her close.
He smothered her squeal with a quick, hard kiss to her lips.

“That’s
more like it.” He grinned again.

She was
practically ready for tearing him apart, her eyes wide, lips tense. He could
even see the pulse in her neck fluttering, so he released her quickly and slid
away.

“See you
after,” he said and ducked out the curtain. If she responded, then the roar of
the crowd quickly smothered it.

Jazz might
take a while to come around, he realised, but he was sure going to have a lot
of fun in the meantime. Especially when he knew the chemistry between burned
hotter than ever.

Turning
his attention to the stage lights, he offered a wave and mounted the mike. One
of the crew handed him his guitar and he offered the crowd a quick grin. His
gaze fixed on Jazz, who’d come around the side to watch. She was just outside
of the glare of the lights which suited him perfectly because he’d always been
able to work magic on stage. Little did she realise, he planned on totally seducing
Jazz even from up here.

Offering
her a wink, he grabbed the microphone and greeted the crowd. “Hey, everyone!
Thanks for coming down tonight. All I can say is we’re in for a great night and
you look like an awesome crowd. Get ready to get your rock on.”

***

Jazz felt
like a jittery teenager again watching Jackson do his thing. The man
practically had everyone drooling at his feet as he started the set. Even the
men. He exuded that special something that no one could pinpoint or even
understand, yet everyone wanted a part of.

Even her.

Yeah her
stomach twisted and her pulse rate kicked up just watching him. Jackson had
charisma in spades and he made love to the crowd perfectly. But every now and
then, he glanced at her and she couldn’t help feeling he was playing just for
her. It was just a game, she reminded herself. That was what a good rocker did.
Made you feel special and awesome and epic.

However,
that didn’t stop her craving more of his attention.

He sang
perfectly, his beautiful voice still amazing in the flesh. You didn’t get this
with pop stars who had a lot of help from auto-tune and backing singers.
Jackson even played an acoustic number where it was just him. Pure Jackson. It
sent shivers down her spine. The man was so talented, so damned sexy, he drove
her mad.

And she
really didn’t like it. He’d be gone soon enough and hopefully would forget all
about her once he’d found his next groupie but just the thought of him living
in the same city, made her feel all… all
mushy
inside. She feared she’d
end up chasing him, begging him to come back if she wasn’t careful.

He paused
before the next song and took a drink from the bottle at his feet. “Does anyone
fancy a Blink-182 song?”

The crowd
cheered though Jazz suspected they were that caught up in the atmosphere,
they’d be happy if he sung nursery rhymes.

“This
one’s good for all the sci-fi fans out there but be sure to listen to the
lyrics. To me, they kinda describe someone special.”

Jazz found
herself caught between wanting to roll her eyes and groan or break down and
cry. If it was the song she thought it was…

“This is
‘A New Hope’ by Blink-182.”

She
groaned but her heart thudded against her chest. What a geek. The song was a
Star Wars song for fuck’s sake. Hardly a love song. But all those years ago,
Jackson had loved Blink-182. Jazz wasn’t so into them but he always said this
song reminded him of her.

Jackson’s
voice filled the room, making her knees tremble. He stared straight at her as
he sang the first verse.

“I've
got her in my head. At night when I go to bed. And I know it sounds lame, but,
she's the girl of my dreams…”

Damn him.
Damn him for pulling at her heart like this. She clenched her fists at her side
as tears filled her eyes. Memories of lying in bed with him, listening to the
song, him singing softly in her ear threatened to drown her. She’d never felt
anything so strong since breaking up with Jackson. To her teenage heart, he was
everything. They thrived on love and music and time together. She doubted she’d
ever erase the agony of what he did to her—what he may have done to her, she
corrected. But it didn’t matter if he was guilty or not. The pain was still
there and she’d never put herself in that position again. Jackson was a rock god
and she was just a mortal. It wasn’t meant to be.

Closing
her eyes to the pain, she swallowed the knot in her throat and headed for the
safety of the bar. Jazz shoved her way through the crowds and slid behind the
counter, already feeling better for the barrier it provided. Here she was the
boss. In charge and in control. She gripped a beer pump for support. Thank fuck
everyone was too fixated on Jackson. No one was ordering drinks now though the
crowd spilled all the way past the bar.

Still with
the tickets she’d sold and the drinks they’d already handed it out, her takings
for the night were sure to make an indent in her debt. And once it was known
that Jackson Wilde had played at Queens, loads of awesome bands would be
begging to play at the club.

So Jackson
had done his job. Queens Rock Bar would be on the map. Jazz swiped her hands
down her jeans and eyed her slightly shaking hands. At this point, she couldn’t
decide if the ache in her chest was from painful memories or from the thought
of not seeing Jackson again. No man had made her feel like Jackson had—or
could. Even the brief moments they’d spent together tonight had reminded her of
how strong the pull had been between them. As teenagers they’d been powerless
to resist. Could she resist now? Part of her—way deep down—wanted to feel that
again. Feel alive and excited. She’d spent so long working, working, working.
What must it be like to feel like Jackson must do every time he stepped on
stage?

She
glanced over at the stage as the song ended and his gaze settled on her again.
God, she envied him. He lived and breathed the music still. If he did go into
producing, he’d still be so passionate about it, she knew that. Jackson threw
himself into everything. It was one of the reasons people wanted a piece of
Jackson Wilde. You could see his love for music shine through in every
performance. Jazz had to admit a small part of her longed to feel that again,
even if it meant putting herself at risk of heartbreak.

Shaking
her head to erase the thoughts, she snatched a cloth and began wiping down the
bar. Just because he captured everyone else’s attention, didn’t mean he
deserved hers. She tried to summon some anger so those pesky little thoughts
would disappear but she felt strangely numb. As if his return and confession
had somehow soothed some of the hatred she’d held onto. She never had given him
the chance to explain. She’d cut him out of her life. Ten years ago, she hadn’t
wanted to hear the truth. Perhaps she too was to blame for how it had ended.
Perhaps she should have heard him out.

Allowing
herself one last look at the stage as he launched into one of his most popular
numbers, Jazz sighed. Charismatic, arrogant, sexy, outrageous… he was all of
those, but he was never liar. So what if he really meant he wanted her back?
What did it mean for her?

Nothing,
she told herself. Nothing had changed. Even if she wanted a relationship, she
didn’t have time. It was all right for him with his millions, but she needed to
keep a roof over her head. Resolving to keep herself occupied for the rest of
the night, Jazz began checking the beer bottles and drink supplies. With any
luck, most of the crowd would stick around for drinks and add to her profit.

Jazz waved
bye to Ali, the last of the bar staff, and shut the door behind her. The thud
echoed through the empty club and she felt like it echoed the emptiness in her
heart. Scraping a hand through her hair, she grimaced. She was exhausted, exhilarated—
a million things—and most of them were to do with Jackson. How she would ever
sleep tonight, she didn’t know.

She
scanned the dim bar, glad to see most of the staff had pulled their weight and
done their best to clean up. Only the stage lights remained on so she strode
over to the light controls. Before she could flick them off, the twang of a
guitar sounded and she froze. Hand hovering over the switches, she waited.
There it was again.

Jackson
strode onto the stage, acoustic guitar in hand, looking as comfortable as ever
up there. His hair was a little mussed now, an extra button had popped open on
his shirt, revealing some of the ink on his chest. He looked like sin and
salvation, all rolled into one.

“I thought
you’d gone,” she called to him before he could play another chord.

“Hoped to
get rid of me?” He squinted in her direction.

She strode
over to the stage and he offered her a hand, helping her climb up. His touch
sent chills through her.

“You
finished up ages ago. What have you been doing?”

He
shrugged.“Chillin’. Questioning the staff. Trying to figure out how to get back
into your good books.”

Jazz
snatched her hand back from him. “You don’t need to get back into my good
books, Jackson. It’s ancient history.”

“Nu-uh,
I’m not buying that. I know you don’t date. Everyone says you’re a workaholic.”

“Oh
really?” Arms folded across her chest, she rocked back on her heels to eye him.
“And what else do they say?”

“They say
you won’t play any of my music.” His lips quirked.

“Damn it,”
she hissed under her breath. “Well, maybe I don’t like it.”

“You used
to like it plenty when we were dating.”

“Tastes
change.”

“You can’t
fool me, babe. I know you as well as you know me. The only reason you wouldn’t
be listening to my music was because you were hung up on me.”

“Fuck’s
sake, Jackson, you are too damned arr—”

He cut her
off with his lips. With his hands. He grasped her ass through her jeans and
held her against his erection while his lips connected with hers. A pulse of
longing surged through her, like a storm wreaking havoc on a coastal city. He
crumbled all her defences and her body instantly softened into him.

The brief
moment of fight left her when he rocked into her aching pussy. Hard, ready,
thick, long. Christ, everything she needed right now. Hands around his neck,
she ground into him, releasing a moan against his lips. He pressed the kiss
deep, making her stomach flip in delight.

Jackson
drew back slightly, still holding her firm against him. “Don’t fight me, Jazz.”

She ground
her teeth together, battling her needs. It was just heartache waiting to happen
but damn if her body didn’t understand that. She needed him. Had to have his
cock deep inside her. This wasn’t love, she told herself. Just pure sexual
desire. But could she afford to indulge it?

One thumb
skimmed over her cheek and cupped her chin. He lowered his head and tilted her
face to give him better access to her neck. Instant thrills shot through her as
his lips tickled her skin. His tongue lapped at the tender spot behind her neck
and then worked to tease her ear.

“We’ve got
one night…” he murmured in her ear.

The lyrics
made her stiffen. She loved this song.
One Night
by The Goo Goo Dolls.
Was she really being seduced by words?

“To let
the whole world know. Just how perfect we could be. Just close your eyes…” he
trailed off as he closed his teeth around her lobe.

And Jazz
did as he commanded. She closed her eyes. One night? Did he mean that? And
could she possible indulge in one night with Jackson and move on?

Was she
kidding herself in believing it might give her closure?

Muscled
chest pressed against her breasts and she sighed. Yep, she probably was. But
who could refuse Jackson Wilde?

“Kiss me,”
she spilled out before she could change her mind. “Fuck me.”

He
chuckled. “You haven’t changed.”

She raised
her brow. “Are you going to or not?”

“I don’t
need telling twice.” Hands still on her rear, he scooped her into his hold and
kissed her furiously.

Jazz could
only hold on and kiss him back. Firm lips and a strong tongue assailed her
until her body shook. Carefully, Jackson dropped to his knees on the stage, his
hands working up and down her back. His touch heated her skin and left her
struggling for air. How the hell had she survived so long without him? And when
had the chemistry between them ever burned this bright? They’d always been
amazing together but it had been so sweet and…
pale
compared to this.
She felt like she was drowning in him.

 Legs
wrapped around his hips, she twined her hands through his hair and drew in the
scent of him. It hadn’t changed. How crazy was that? The stage lights bathed
their skin in vibrant colours. She tugged at his shirt, skimming her fingertips
over his collarbone before dropping her lips down onto his skin. Jazz licked
his chest briefly, the tang of salt on her tongue exhilarating. He groaned as
she slipped a hand down between them to cup his hardness through his jeans. He
yanked her hand away when she continued.

“You’re
going to kill me,” he declared gruffly and lifted her again.

Jazz bit
back a sigh of disappointed as he disengaged their bodies and placed her on the
edge of the stage. With a nimble leap, he stepped off the stage and positioned
her so he could stand between her legs as they hung off the stage.

“I need
time to touch you… to see you, babe. I’ve dreamed of doing this to you for so
long.”

She was
putty in his hands. The desire hooding his gaze made her stomach flip. She’d do
anything. Strong hands came to her waist, pulling her close just for a moment
as he trailed his lips over her neck. She shuddered and whimpered when his mouth
left her skin. Jackson’s fingers came to the hem of her t-shirt, slipped
underneath and smoothed across the flat plane of her stomach. Then one hand
went higher, higher until it found the cup of her bra. He curled a palm around
one breast and they both groaned.

Tugging
the cup down and her tee up, he dipped his head to take a nipple into his
mouth. Sharp heat surrounded the aching tip, and she cried out and arched into
him. He did the same to her other breast, revealing her to the stage lights and
taking his time to kiss all over her soft flesh before laving his tongue over
her puckered tipple and nipping gently. The sweet relief of his teeth against
her sensitive flesh caused her head to drop back and she stared up at the
rigging above them.

Jackson
tugged at her top, forcing her gaze back to him. Had she lost her mind? The
tiniest moment of fear fluttered through her belly but by the time he pulled
off her top and undone her bra, it was replaced with swirling heat and need.
The look in his eyes was something she hadn’t seen in a long time and it had
changed. It was deeper, more intense. His gaze sketched her for several moments
and she couldn’t bring herself to be self-conscious. She propped her hands on
the stage and leant back slightly, offering her breasts to him.

He
scrubbed a hand across his face, as if trying to wake himself from a dream.
“Fuck, Jazz, when did you get so hot?”

Jazz tried
to laugh but it came out a splutter. His expression was deadly serious. She had
the sinking feeling nothing would be the same after this night—that one night
would never be enough—but was she willing to give him more? Willing to give him
another chance? She just didn’t know.

Doing the
only thing she could, she reached for his shirt and pulled him close again. She
couldn’t make sense of this. Maybe she never would. But she did understand that
if she didn’t have Jackson tonight, she might regret it forever. Perhaps the
pain would be worth it. She sure hoped so.

The feel
of his cotton shirt against her breasts made her gasp and she rubbed against
him while dragging her hands up and down his back. He claimed her mouth again
and wrapped his arms around her. Safe and enclosed in his hold, Jazz gave up
questioning and surrendered to the heat of his body and tongue.

However, soon
it wasn’t enough and she pushed her hands up between them to tug his shirt. She
fumbled with the buttons and heard one pop.

“Just rip
it,” he said, tearing his mouth from hers.

Jazz was
tempted to ask if he was sure and then she remembered this was Jackson Wilde
and he wasn’t going to worry about a shirt. The man lived on the edge—or at
least he had. Now he seemed different. Less outrageous and more serious. Like a
man wanting to make a change…

She eyed
his mussed hair and heaving chest and gripped both sides of his shirt before
pulling it apart. Buttons pinged and scattered across the floor and she helped
him frantically shove the black cotton down his arms. Jazz released a long sigh
and flattened her palms against his chest. He’d always been in good shape but
they were both so young. Now he looked like a man. Some of the ink on his arms
she recognised but a lot was new, as were the tattoos painted across his chest
and the one peeking out of the top of his jeans. She licked her lips. The
nipple piercing was new too.

Jazz swallowed
heavily and ran her hands up and down his arms, then hooked her legs around his
hips to draw him close. They both groaned as flesh met flesh, softness against
hardness. Desire swirled through her veins and pooled in her belly. Like an
animal unleashed, his movements grew frantic and he held her fiercely against
him as he pressed hard kisses to her lips, her neck and chest.

Jackson
gripped her hair tightly in one hand and used it to tug her head back and give
him better access to her neck and collarbone. He gentle nips vanished, replaced
with urgent bites and sucks. No doubt she’d be wearing his marks tomorrow.

And then
he released her hair and kneeled to settle between her legs. He glanced up at
her, expression serious as he undid her trousers and she lifted her hips to
help him drag them down along with her underwear. Cold air rushed about her
legs, reminding her of her nudity. The stage was cool against her naked rear.

But
Jackson didn’t leave her cold for long. He prized apart her legs and eased
between them, peppering kisses up the inside of her thighs. Jazz twined her
fingers in his hair as his breath teased her damp folds. She rocked into him
but he refused to move and instead continued to kiss so agonisingly close that
she moaned in frustration.

“Patience,
Jazz. I’ve been dreaming of this for too long,” he said against her skin.

“Jackson,”
she whined. “Stop teasing.”

“For
someone who wanted nothing to do with me, you’ve sure changed your tune.”

Jazz
gasped and was about to shove him away when he buried his tongue in between her
thighs and she cried out. All annoyance slipped away, all anger at his
arrogance vanished as he swept his tongue over her clit again and again.
Circling, sweeping and nipping, he brought her close to the edge and when he
finally plunged two fingers into her, she shattered. Gratification swept
through her, an endless wave that had her stiffening then practically
collapsing against him.

He eased
her back up to sitting and stood. His hands came to his jeans and he raised a
brow, asking a question.

She nodded
frantically. She hadn’t felt this alive in forever. Or at least since she’d
kicked Jackson out of her life. It had been many long years of nothing but
working. She’d forgotten this. Forgotten what it felt like to be around
Jackson. Even if it was one night, she needed it.

He tugged
a foil packet from his jeans and began to unsnap them. He took his time undoing
the three buttons that held them on and Jazz feared she might pass out as her
breathing grew ragged. Jackson tugged the denim apart and she sucked in a sharp
breath when his erection thrust out, unimpeded by any underwear.

How like
Jackson.

Licking
her bottom lip, she reached out but he batted her hand away.

“Don’t
touch me, Jazz. I can’t handle it. You’re so damned sexy…”

She tried
not pout and he chuckled when he slipped off his boots and stepped out of his
jeans. Flickers of pink, blue and green light streaked across his sculpted body
and highlighted him to perfection. Every inch of him was muscled and daunting.
Dark hair dusted his legs and trailed down his stomach to highlight his cock.
Her throat grew as dry as the dessert.

Then he
eased himself between her legs and took hold of one calf to ease it over his
shoulder. She leaned back and supported herself as he did the same with the
other leg. He eyed her under his brow and she felt his heat near her. With one
slow thrust, he joined them. Jazz’s eyes felt like they couldn’t go any wider.
Shock burned through her system. It had been so long since she’d slept with
anyone and it had never felt like this. Not since Jackson and perhaps even then
it never set her senses on fire.