Rise: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance (Rock God Book 1) Page 6

  “Spread your legs, gorgeous,” his voice rumbles. Though I try to focus on his face… his cock is huge… and thick… and pierced.

  “Rhys, I need to tell yo—” I whisper something that doesn’t even make sense to me. Again, his cock is fucking huge and juicy to the point that it’s distracting. He reaches down to cup his balls, making it grow bigger, and I moan as my face floods with heat. Suddenly I’m not as brave as I thought, because holy shit.

  “Spread,” he demands and before I can even compute what I’m doing, I obey. This time I do hear the rip as the spikes of my heels dig into the comforter. Jesus, I have to pull myself together… but his cock is pierced.

  He reaches down and wraps his large hands around my ankles. He’s warm, and my skin feels sensitive to his touch. I blink up at him. I swear I see feathers now as he jerks me to the edge of the mattress.

  Time and the world have stopped. The soft light from the fireplace fades away. Feathers dance around us. It’s like we’re in an enchanted world and he’s a mystical beast sent to be my knight in shining armor.

  Then he kneels. “Fuck, look at this pretty pussy.” His thumb rubs my clit and I almost scream at how good it feels.

  “I’m gonna eat this pussy.” His thumb rubs back and forth on my clit causing me to grab hold of the comforter, and this time I do moan, loudly.

  “Then I’m gonna fuck this tight cunt hard.” I groan, horrified at how wet I am. I had no idea he could be so filthy.

  “Oh. My. God.” I lean up on my elbows, panting, then fall back as his mouth goes straight for my clit.

  He wasn’t kidding.

  He’s fucking sucking it as if it’s nectar that he needs to survive.

  “Rhys,” I whimper as I grab his thick dark hair and spread my legs farther. Whatever he’s doing, I never want it to stop.

  Ever.

  I’m climbing, literally. Lifting his head, he inserts two fingers and starts to fuck me again with them. Deep. Hard.

  “This cunt. Goddamn, it’s tight,” he murmurs as I go over, splintering into blinding white lights as my body pulses.

  Before I can focus, maybe even know my name, his giant, pierced cock is rubbing my clit and I orgasm again.

  In one fast, blinding moment of pain he’s inside me. I think I scream, or maybe it’s just him cursing… but my head is no longer floating from pleasure. This freakin’ hurts.

  “You can’t be a fucking virgin,” he groans, holding himself still as if he doesn’t trust himself to move.

  I stay mute. Seems to have worked so far, so why start talking now? I’ll only burst into tears. I want to scream the truth that I’m fucking on fire down there, and that I’ve been saving myself for him. But the more pain I have, the clearer I become. I should have told him the truth. His mouth takes mine and it’s gentle, causing everything to fade but him.

  “That’s it, baby. Relax and let your body adjust and take me.” Then he kisses me slowly as he pumps in and out.

  “So tight.” His voice, a gravelly melody that I love, makes my nails dig deeper into his shoulders.

  I’m his.

  As he moves in and out, his breathing is harsh. He pulls out and jerks himself off.

  “Fuck,” he groans as he shoots his wet, warm seed on my breasts, then covers my pussy with it, emptying himself on me.

  “Stay here.”

  I almost say, “Where would I go?” But I’m tired. My eyes blink open when a hot cloth covers my breasts. I take a breath and realize I must have passed out and Rhys is cleaning me up. He’s frowning. The light from the bathroom allows me to actually see him.

  “Who are you?” His voice isn’t mad, it’s more matter of fact, as if he’s going over everything in his head.

  Our eyes lock. His narrow, and for a second I think I see him piece it all together.

  “Nothing? Staying quiet?” He tosses the wet washcloth and reaches for my heels, which I’m horrified to find I’m still wearing.

  Jesus, I must be way more intoxicated than I thought. I curl under the sheets and he crawls in.

  I don’t know what I should say, and I’m so tired, too tired to get into any of this now. He smells fresh, clean. I guess he took a shower while I slept.

  “Keep your secrets, beautiful.” He pulls me into his arms and I sigh, because all is well. He’s not mad. If anything, he seems tired himself.

  Tomorrow I’ll tell him everything and we can start fresh. Everything will be wonderful.

  Then I pass out.

  RHYS

  Past – Twenty-seven years old

  Seattle, Washington

  “I’m gonna marry you.” I can’t see her because she’s far away, but I know that voice.

  “Gia?” It’s raining. Why am I so dry?

  “Gia?”

  A flash of lightning makes me see silver. Then she’s right in front of me, only it’s not her. It’s my goddess, with large cat eyes and cherry-stained lips. She’s in the silver bubble with me.

  “Rhys.”

  I need to get out. She’s crying and I lift my hand to catch a tear.

  “You need to protect us…” she pleads. “Open the bubble. Something will happen to us if we stay in.”

  I reach out to claw it open, but I can’t. It’s like I’ve been weighted down with sand and I can’t move.

  I’m dreaming.

  Gia.

  No, this is not Gia. Gia is a girl with braces and wild, unbrushed hair. This is my goddess. With long, silky brown hair and legs that never end.

  “Rhys…” She’s moving yet I can’t. I reach for her but again, my arms are weighted down. The bubble breaks in two and she starts to float away. I yell for her, fight for her.

  “I’m going to marry you…” She scratches at the silver bubble, her red lips tremble, but it’s her eyes that bring me to my knees…

  “Fuck.” I bolt up and look around. Rain pelts the windows. The room is gray but not pitch black. It must be morning. I take a breath trying to steady my pounding heart. I glance over at the mass of dark hair on the white pillow next to me. The woman’s back is to me. The covers have slipped down allowing me to see the crack of her ass.

  “The fuck is going on?” I take a breath. Feathers rise and twirl. A sliver of sunlight streaks through the black and angry clouds.

  I reach for my cigarettes on the expensive nightstand. I need to slow the fuck down. At this pace, I’ll wind up in rehab. Leaning back, I rest against the headboard. My lighter flicks to life, and I let my sluggish brain try to recall the night before.

  It’s coming, rolling over me, like the feathers that are dancing around us. I bring the cigarette to my lips.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  The nicotine needs to work. I need to stay calm and not overreact. The ominous feeling of doom weighs down on my chest. It’s all there, bitch-slapping me awake.

  The concert. We played like shit. That led to the club, cocaine, tequila, and her. I don’t need to roll her over to know. I rub my chest, hoping to find some sort of calm. What has she done?

  I look at her back, it’s bronze from the sun and her Italian blood. She shifts slightly, allowing me to see a tease of a tan line. I take one last deep inhale and put the cigarette out as I wake up, cut through the cobwebs, and connect the dots.

  My cock is hard. My nostrils twitch at the scent of us, of her. She tasted like fucking honeydew, with the tightest cunt I’ve ever fucked.

  It can’t be…

  I throw off the white sheet, ignoring the barrage of feathers, and stand, staring down at the bed and my dick. The dried blood on both gives me answers.

  A fucking virgin?

  I rip the comforter off and my eyes rake over her body. “Brat.” It comes out almost as a caress.

  Green eyes blink open and up at me. A small smile graces her puffy lips, which is quickly replaced when she takes in my frown. The play of emotions on her beautiful face is almost laughable… if it wasn’t happening to me.

  “Mot
herfucker.” I cover her mouth as she starts to scream. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” Rage that I didn’t even know I had threatens to take over, and it’s not gonna be pretty.

  Gia fucking Fontaine.

  The Brat.

  In my bed. All grown up.

  She stops struggling as if it’s dawned on her that it’s pointless. I have her pinned. Her eyes narrow and she sticks her tongue out to lick my hand.

  “Scream again and I won’t be held responsible.” I lift my hand and get off her.

  She bolts up, her fantastic tits heaving as she points at me. “You’re the one who’s lost your mind,” she spits out, holding up her hands as if that could stop me from grabbing her if I wanted to. “I’m not the one who can’t remember people.” She looks fierce, yet her voice cracks as if she wants to cry. In a flash, she tries to bolt around me.

  “You’re kidding me?” I roar, grabbing her arm and jerking her to my chest. Her small gasp and firm tits make me bite the inside of my cheek.

  I don’t need this shit. My head is pounding, and not from booze and drugs. This is a Gia Fontaine headache.

  “Take your hands off me. You’ve clearly become every pathetic thing you never wanted to be,” she sneers.

  “The fuck?” I stare at her, our breathing harsh. The room is charged with electric energy. I feel it; she feels it.

  It’s pure, sexual, almost an animalistic attraction, because Gia Fontaine is the last person I should put my dick into.

  My eyes take in her face. How did I not recognize her? But then again, how in a million years would I have ever guessed she would show up, in a club… dressed like that.

  I’m fucking livid, and the more I think about the way she looked last night in that scrap of a dress, the more I realize she knew exactly what she was doing.

  I toss her on the bed. Grabbing both of her hands, I pin them on top of her head.

  “What is wrong with you?” I shake her, causing the bed to move.

  “Me?” she thunders, her hair wild, her lips red and swollen from last night and our almost violent mating.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” I shake the bed again.

  “Because you would have stopped, and I wanted you more than anything in this world!” Her emerald eyes spill with angry tears.

  I let her go. Her words burn into my soul. What the hell? This is wrong, so wrong, but knowing it doesn’t change the fact that I want to lock her in with me and fuck her, over and over.

  “This is wrong,” I state. I need another cigarette, something to distract me from her vanilla smell. She’s like a delicious, forbidden dessert. One you know you should never try, but when you do, you devour it.

  My cock is rock hard. It doesn’t seem to understand that she’s off-limits.

  Forever.

  “You’re right about that.” She rubs her wrist. “God, I’m such an idiot because I believed in you. I freakin’ saved myself for you. You jerk.”

  “I… how are you even here?”

  “I thought you… Never mind. Get off of me. I was wrong.” Her voice cracks.

  My eyes sweep over her. Gone is the gangly girl with skinny legs and dirty feet. She’s grown into those legs and is everything I always knew she would be.

  Simply stunning. Unfortunately for either of us, she hasn’t changed her ways. Instead of spying, she’s somehow done the unthinkable and ended up in my bed. And now that I’ve tasted her, I want more, so much more.

  Memories of last night and the way her candy cunt tasted make me snort in disgust that I was so fucked up I didn’t even get to enjoy her.

  And now I can’t.

  This was a mistake, a huge one that will never happen again. I need answers, even if they are laced with lies from that sweet mouth.

  “Gia. I’m not going to ask again. What the fuck are you doing here?” She shuts her eyes and turns her face toward the pillow. Her teeth bite down on her bottom lip as if that will stop the tears that she can amazingly turn on.

  “Get off of me.” She turns her head almost violently. And there she is, magnificent in her anger and hurt as her eyes shoot me a death stare.

  “Easy, Brat, you’re the one who did this. Start talking.” She opens her mouth, but the pounding on the door makes her scream.

  “Goddammit, Granger. Is Gia in there?” Nuke’s voice vibrates inside.

  “Go away, I’m dealing with shit,” I bellow. I’ll take care of him later. I pull the cover up just as he storms in looking like a lunatic, eyes wild as he lunges for me.

  “You fuck.” His fist connects with my chin and I’m done.

  Done with Gia, her drama, and whatever fucked-up shit she’s got going on with Nuke.

  I stand before he can get another punch in and go straight for his ribs, gut punching him until he bends over to catch his breath, wheezing.

  “Nuke, oh my God.” She jumps up and I grab her arm. Jesus Christ, she’s truly lost it.

  “You’re fucking naked.” I shake her, turning so I block her from Nuke. I’d rather him see my ass than anything on Gia.

  “Let go of me!” she screeches.

  My eye twitches. This is over. I grab my T-shirt, which is hanging on the chair, and drag her toward the bathroom.

  “Get dressed, Gia, and then get the fuck out of here before I do something we’ll both regret.” I shove her stunned face in and slam the bathroom door.

  “What in the ever-loving-fuck is happening?” Rafe, our manager, stands in the doorway drenched in sweat, completely out of breath. If his tone is any indication, he was interrupted before he could finish his daily morning run.

  His blue eyes narrow on me. Arching a brow at my naked ass, he swings toward Nuke who is still slightly wheezing, hands on his knees.

  “Tell him.”

  “Tell me what?” he roars, then holds up a hand as his phone starts vibrating.

  “Fucking perfect.” I brush past him, pull on some jeans, and stumble into the other room. The rain has stopped, allowing the rays of sunlight to streak into the suite.

  Ammo lies on one of the couches, dressed in the same clothes as last night, hands crossed on top of his chest.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I grit out, grabbing his pack of unfiltered Camels from the coffee table.

  “I’m here for the family meeting.” He opens one eye to look at me, then snorts, closing it again. “Although, I notice Cash is absent.”

  I drop down onto the stiff couch across from him and light up, leaning back to smoke and figure out what’s the best move here.

  “This is fucked.”

  “Yep,” he says with eyes closed and a stupid grin on his face. I’m close with Ammo; he’s like a brother. We fight, and half the time I want to put my fist in his arrogant face. But we’re a great team.

  He’s a fucking beast of a guitarist. At twenty-six, Ammo has clinched his spot in rock ‘n’ roll royalty. He’s that good.

  He also can compartmentalize fame and success. Christ, he lives for it.

  “You want food?” I grab the phone and dial room service.

  “Yes, Mr. Tyler Durden, how can I be of service?” I glance over as Nuke’s dark shadow leans over me. Grabbing his cigarettes, he glares at me. I almost gut punch him again, but I have the phone and cigarette in my hands. Ammo looks at both of us and starts laughing. I lean back and prop my bare feet on the coffee table, ignoring them.

  “Yeah, can you send up a couple pots of coffee, some danishes, fruit, and five orders of bacon and eggs, scrambled?”

  “Of course,” the voice purrs. I know she knows who I am. We all use aliases, which is stupid. Somehow someone always leaks our rooms anyway.

  “Anything else?”

  A loud goddammit from Rafe makes me say, “Yeah, a pitcher of tomato juice and horseradish.” I inhale and toss the phone back on the receiver, my eyes narrowing on Nuke.

  “You need to explain what the fuck happened here.” I point at him with my cigarette.

  “You tell
me,” he fires right back. “All I know is Gia is my responsibility. She was supposed to stay with me.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Is he saying he wants Gia?

  My feet drop and I lean over. “Gia Fontaine is not your responsibility. And where was all this concern last night?” My eyes zero in on his face. I need to see every expression because if he wants Gia… we’re gonna have a problem.

  “Are you kidding?” He scrubs his hands up and down his face, then drops them. “Look, last night I was high and drunk. Never in a million years did I think even you would fuck Axel’s sister.”

  “I didn’t know it was Gia,” I state, getting madder as the seconds tick by. For fuck’s sake, Gia is an adult. She needed to use her words last night.

  Ammo sits up and looks over at Nuke, then me, and crosses his arms as if this is the best entertainment he’s had in years.

  “You can’t be serious? You really want me to believe that you had no idea that was Gia?” Nuke stares at me, his brow furrowed, and reaches for a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

  “Zero.” I stare right back.

  “I told you.” He takes a step toward me.

  “Like hell you did.” My pulse is pounding. I haven’t felt like this, ever. It was as if I finally found my muse, only to be slapped in the face.

  “Granger.” He looks up at the ceiling and turns to stare out the window. “This is Axel’s baby sister we’re talking about. He’s gonna kill us.”

  “Fuck Axel. I’d like to see him try.” Ammo stands and stretches as Rafe storms in. With a glare, he scrutinizes all of us as if we’re his disappointing children.

  “What does Axel have to do with any of this?” Rafe turns to look at me.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t know what?” he demands.

  “How did you not know?” Nuke yells, then turns to Rafe. “That woman”—he points at the bedroom—“is Gia Fontaine. As in Axel Fontaine’s baby sister. As in we are fucked because I’m sure she’s called him, and the Disciples are now on their way.”

  “Christ.” I stand and go straight to the minibar, saying over my shoulder, “Pull your shit together, Nuke. I’m not afraid of Axel or the Disciples.” Grabbing a bottle of vodka, I figure screw waiting for the tomato juice.