Slay Me (Rock Gods #1) (5 page)

             
No, that wasn't quite right. He had something for her, but it was more complicated than that. It was a crush.

             
An evil, evil crush.

             
It wasn't even flattering to be wanted by a guy like him. He was so well known for being a dog when it came to women. Sabrina knew she was just another spoke in his wheel.

             
A very big wheel.

             
She threw her hands up. She had no idea how to pack for Europe. She'd never traveled, except to get to and from school or to get home to see her dad every couple of months.

             
But she always drove when she could. It took thirteen hours to get from LA to Devil's Rock, Colorado. Each way. But she did it at least five times a year. Even if she just went up for the weekend.

             
That's how much she hated flying.

             
And now she was going to fly halfway across the globe.

             
Thanks to
him.

Seven

              Nick was peering out the window as they pulled up to Sabrina's house. He was trying to get a good look at the place. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her. He had sudden vision of himself peeking out of windows at her, like his mum used to do down the east end.

             
He was feeling like bloody busy body!

             
The house was small, cottage style. Painted a pale blue with white trim and neat as a pin. Just as he'd expected. There were flowers too, but they looked a bit forlorn. Not a gardener then.

             
That didn't surprise him either.

             
The front door open and Sabrina walked out, rolling a medium piece of luggage behind her. She had a garment bag in the other hand. The driver took the bags from her as Marley opened the limo door and got out. He stepped to the side and suddenly Nick could see her.

             
Ahhhhh. There she was. The sight of her was like drinking a tall glass of cool water on a hot day.

             
She walked toward the limo in skin tight jeans and a big camel colored sweater wrap. On her cute little feet were high heeled black ankle boots. She looked fantastic, even though too much of her was covered up.

             
She just hit the spot. There was no other way to put it. It reminded him of when he used to smoke. The first cig of the day had felt like this. He was already addicted and he hadn't even had her.

             
Yet.

             
He stepped out of the limo and whispered to Marley without taking his eyes off her.

             
"Marley, go sit up front."

             
"What?"

             
He just stared at him.

             
"Oh, okay Nick. Whatever you say."

             
Marley made himself scarce as Sabrina walked up to Nick. He was practically salivating as she got closer to him.

             
"Hello Princess."

             
"Don't call me that."

             
"Alright love, whatever you say. Shall we?"

             
She eyed him warily and then accepted his hand. He guided her into the limo, getting a quick view of her high round bottom. The girl was beautifully built.

             
It really was a remarkably grabbable ass. He resisted the urge to put both hands on it and squeeze.

             
He winked at Marley and climbed in behind her, slamming the door.

             
"Don't call me that either."

             
"What's that?"

             
He was distracted by the smell of her. She was sitting as far as she could get from him, but he'd gotten a good whiff when she passed him. She smelled like… lemons. And something else. Something soft and feminine.

             
Heavenly.

             
"Love."

             
"I'm sorry?"

             
He was mentally undressing her and outfitting her with a whole slew of provocative ensembles. For his eyes only of course. Nurses uniforms. Black lace stockings. The list went on and on.

             
"Don't call me 'love.'"

             
He tore his gaze from her thighs to her face.

             
"Well, we're off to a splendid start."

             
"Mr. Falcon, please I'm serious. I have a job to do here. It's important that people respect me. That starts with you."

             
He felt a flash of guilt. He had made her out to sound like a bit of a tart. He couldn't help it though. He wanted her to be a tart.

             
He wanted her to be
his tart
.             

             
"Right. That sound fair. But no one's here right now are they buttercup?"

             
She rolled her eyes. He was deliberately baiting her to see what she'd come up wit next.

             
"Honestly, what would you do if I called you honey dumpling or something?"

             
"Honey dumpling?"             

             
He started laughing. That was the silliest thing he'd ever heard. She stared at him for a moment before a smile crept over her face. He'd never really seen her smile.

             
Jesus, she was even more beautiful than he'd thought. It wasn't just her face. It was what was inside her. It shone out of her like light a billion watt bulb.

             
She started laughing with him. The limo was speeding along the freeway toward LAX while the two of them slowly lost their minds to a giggling fit that simply would not stop.

             
"You are really-" he gasped as he tried to get enough breath to speak. "
Really
, bad at comebacks."

             
She was still laughing but his comment made her giggled uncontrollably again.

             
"It's true! I'm the worst. I never once won a fight in grammar school."

             
The laughter dried up in his chest. He found himself staring into those deep indigo eyes.

             
"No love you're not the worst. You're the best."

             
She stopped laughing abruptly. She swallowed and stared into his eyes. She looked away after just a brief moment. But he'd almost seen something in her eyes-

             
"All the same Mr. Falcon. It's a bad habit to get into."

             
He leaned forward and gave her his most serious face.

             
"Alright love, I'll make you a deal."

             
She cocked her head to the side, listening.

             
"I won't call you 'sugar britches' or any nicknames until you give me permission."

             
She was holding back another giggle at his mention of sugar britches, just as he'd hoped.

             
"As long as you stop calling me Mr. Falcon."

             
She sighed deeply, as if expecting some sort of a trick. Little did she know.

             
"What do you want me to call you?"

             
"Dumpling butter of course."

             
She gave him a disapproving look. He held up his hands in surrender.

             
"I'll call you Sabrina and you call me Nick."

             
"Alright."

             
"Do we have a deal?"

             
She nodded, clearly relieved. He felt like all kinds of a heel all of the sudden. He was manipulating her to get what he wanted. He was using any means necessary to get around her healthy distrust of him.

             
"Deal."

             
"Let's shake on it."

             
She held out her hand and his breath caught. She was so straightforward. So honest. So ready to believe the he would keep his word. She literally took his breath away.

             
He closed his hand around hers and felt that same electric current flash between them.

             
They were going to be together a lot. He would wear her down eventually. He would trick her into his bed. He'd make her want him as much as he wanted her.

             
Or he'd bloody well die trying.

             
He had a feeling he was losing something- whether it was his head or his heart, he wasn't yet sure.

             
One thing he was sure of though. Nick Falcon never backed down from a challenge.

**********

              Sabrina couldn't help it; she gasped audibly when she saw the plane. They'd driven directly out onto the tarmac. She'd thought for some reason that they were flying commercial. First class obviously, but commercial.

             
But no. Nick Falcon had his own private jet. It wasn't a small one either. It was huge.

             
The colors on the jet were a dark gray and a plum color. She glanced at him. Nick was wearing a plum colored bandana around his neck.

             
He seemed to like the color a lot.

             
She was noticing all kinds of things about him over the past few weeks. He was arrogant, but he could be kind. He was frequently drunk, but he made sure to be sober when it counted. And he noticed things around him.

             
Especially her.

             
He always seemed to notice everything about her.

             
It was disconcerting to say the least.

             
They were escorted out of the limo by a personal TSA agent. He checked their passports and itineraries. She noticed that Marley took care of all of that for Nick. She wondered briefly if the musician knew how to do anything for himself.

             
She smirked at the sudden image of Marley tying Nick's shoelaces for him. He did seem sort of adorably helpless at times. But the rest of the times, he was utterly and implacably in charge.

             
Powerful.

             
It was a compelling combination of personality traits. Part of her wanted to look after him, like Marley did. The other part wanted to put a crack in his ego, get him in line.

             
Another part of her wanted to kiss him.

             
A big part of her wanted that she suddenly realized. She wanted it badly. Surprisingly so.

             
Even more than all of that, she wanted to run away. Run back to the limo as fast as her stilettos could take her. That's what she usually did in situations like this. Not that ever had been any situation remotely like this one.

             
But running was not an option. He'd made sure of that.

             
As they climbed the stairs to the jet she wondered briefly if he was doing all this to get close to her. Or if it was merely to punish her for daring to gainsay him. Or both.

             
Probably it was just a silly game he played to entertain himself. She suspected he liked to play games.

             
She however did not.

**********

              Nick watched as Sabrina stared open mouthed around the plane.

             
The Falconmobile, as it had been dubbed.

             
He wanted to impress her he realized. Maybe this would do the trick. It certainly couldn't hurt his chances that he had a private jet now could it? She snapped her mouth shut and gave him a sideways glance. There was something mildly disapproving about the look she gave him.

             
Oh, well maybe it was the giant initials he'd had painted on as the plane's logo.

             
Ten foot high 'N' and an 'F' with a circle around them.

             
Maybe it
was
a bit much…

             
"Shall we, my- Sabrina?"

             
She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. She was more impressed that he'd used her proper name than by his bloody jet. But damn if didn't she make him feel like every small victory was winning the Goddamn world cup.

             
Marley and the driver loaded their bags onto the plane as the flight crew waited on the steps.

             
The very pretty flight crew.

             
Damn, he'd forgotten about them. His, uh, mile high club had a few regulars in it. They didn't have to sleep with him to get a job on his jet of course. But they always seemed to want to.