Bad For Me (My Forbidden Rockstar) (4 page)

I study him shrewdly. He’s classier than what I had
expected. Of course, I've heard of Winterford’s Jewels before, but I wasn’t
sure what to expect of the owner, and my mother’s new fiancé.

He better treat my mom better than those other fuckers she
dated. I don’t give a shit, I’ll punch Mr. Fancy Jewelry in his fucking face
too if he hurts her like the last guy.

I’m guessing Mom hasn’t shared her shitty past with Cliff,
and that’s just as well. No need telling her new man that she has had some
lousy taste in men. I think darkly of my father, and I know my mom’s had bad
taste in men for a long ass time, it's nothing new.

The girl, Annabelle, gives her father a strange look, but
she goes over and sits down on a couch by the window. I see her eyeing me from
the corner, and I watch as she crosses her legs. I can’t help but think of what
lays between those two pretty little legs of hers. I bet I could have her
moaning in seconds.

I lick my lips just thinking about her, but then my mom
pulls me back in.

“Thank you, Dominic, that was so nice of you. Annabelle are
you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she mumbles, sipping a Coke.

My mom looks slightly ruffled, but she smiles at me, and
guides me over to meet Cliff.

“Cliff, this is Dominic,” she says proudly.

“So nice to meet you,” Cliff grins, shaking my hand. “I’ve
heard lots about you.” He winks, and I wonder what the hell my mother could
have said.

Oh well, it’s probably better than the shit he might read in
a magazine. Lately my band, Diesel, has been all over the news thanks to our
new record, which went straight to number one in less than one week.

Fuck yeah.

Only problem is we go on tour in two weeks, and our lead backup
singer just got herself engaged.

Sappy love shit.

Now we’re fucked, and we need to find someone to replace
her, fast.

My mom mentioned that Cliff’s daughter sings, but I can’t
picture this pretty little thing singing for us. Oh, I can picture her in all
kinds of compromising positions, but she looks too pampered and polished to be
a rocker girl. She wouldn't last five minutes on the road.

My mom must be losing her touch.

“Dinner’s ready!”

I turn my head, and see a small plump woman in the doorway,
wiping her hands on a smudged apron.

My mom smiles, and Cliff motions to Annabelle. The room
feels weird and awkward since I entered, and I wonder if something had happened
before I got there. Whatever it was, I’m glad to move to a new location.

We make our way to the dining room, and I know I should be
thinking about what we’re going to do on tour, but I keep smelling lemons and
mints, and this damn girl is in my head now.

As if she knows I’m thinking about her, she looks back at
me, and then looks away quickly when she sees that I’m staring at her. I’ve got
a perfect view of her fine ass, and I plan on looking for as long as it’s
sashaying in front of me.

We sit around a large dining room table, and a spread is
already waiting for us. I help myself to the bowl of soup in front of me, and I
watch Annabelle through the corner of my eyes.

She all but snatches the glass of Chardonnay in front of her,
and I can’t help laughing as she gulps it down like a shot.

She looks at me, embarrassed, she knows I’ve caught her, and
I see Cliff give her one of those parental warning kind of looks. She raises
her eyebrows at him, grabs the bottle of wine that’s chilling on the table and
pours herself another glass.

“So, Dominic, I was telling Annabelle about how you were
looking for a backup singer,” my mom says helpfully.

Christ. Now I need to find a way to let this poor girl down.

Annabelle chokes on her wine and slams her glass down. She’s
shaking her head in refusal. Hmm, maybe this is what happened before I walked
in.

“I’m not interested in handouts,” she says hotly, and then
she saw my mom’s injured look. “Thanks for thinking of me, Roxie, but I’ll keep
trying it on my own.”

Now I'm intrigued. Most girls would fall all over this kind
of opportunity, especially singers. Maybe rock isn’t her forte?

 “Rock not your thing?” I ask casually, but I can’t help the
snide tone. She probably sings Christian music, or Broadway.

“Actually it
is
my thing,” she snaps, “but I’m still
not interested.”

“You sing rock?” I sound incredulous.

“Oh, Annabelle is a rock singer,” Cliff says proudly, “She
had a very promising career until she –” he stops himself, embarrassed, and
takes a big mouthful of his soup.

I see Annabelle squirm in her seat, and she blushes again. I
almost care, but I’m too distracted by her pink skin. Her eyes are so fucking
blue, and her eyelashes are so long that I just can’t help staring at her. I
try to imagine her dressed in some tight, skimpy outfit and I get hard at the
thought.

Get a fucking hold of yourself, man.

I think about my mom, and that does the trick.

My phone goes off and I glance down at it under the table.
It’s a text message.

U around 2nite? I’m dying 2 suck ur cock again.

I don’t recognize the number.

Who r u?

The response is almost immediate.

Khloe.

Who the fuck is Khloe?

Sorry, baby. My mind is a little hazy today.

Again, she responds immediately.

Khloe from the hotel last night.

Right! I don’t remember what she looks like, but she gave
great head. I send a quick text back.

Meet me back there at 11.

I was there for a party last night, but I’ll get another
room tonight just for her dick-sucking lips. I can’t remember if she’s a brown
paper bag girl, but that doesn’t matter. If I need to, I’ll drink again
tonight.

My mom is giving me a pointed look, and I realize I’m being
rude. I stow my phone away and try to focus on the dinner.

Besides the hot little piece of ass sitting across from me,
I’m bored as hell. But I know it means a lot to my mom to have me here.

What were we all talking about again?

Oh right, this girl Annabelle is a rocker, and I was
fantasizing about her in some skimpy clothes.

“So, Annabelle,” I say, but she quickly cuts in.

“Annie. Call me Annie.”

Well, that’s a start.

“Where have you played?”

She seems to hesitate. “All over LA,” she says dismissively.
“I did have a gig at the Cherry Tower.”

I let out a low whistle. The Cherry Tower is about as good
as you can get in LA. Most people make it from there. In fact, that’s where
Diesel was discovered two years ago. We were just scraping by up until then,
eating tuna fish out of cans, and crashing on friends’ floors. It all changed
at the Cherry Tower.

“You had a gig?”

I can’t help but notice the past tense.

She blushes again and nods.

“What happened?” I press.

She’s been avoiding my gaze, but she looks at me now, and I
can tell she’s had her guard up. Her baby blue eyes are wide and raw, and I can
really see her now. She has let me in, but just for a second.

“Let’s just say I lost my temper.”

And then she’s gone, the mask is back up, and she starts
eating her fish.

Well, fuck me, because now I’m thinking about Annabelle, or
Annie, singing at the Cherry Tower and losing her temper, which somehow cost
her a sweet gig.

Maybe I’ll ask around.

If I remember.

I’m sure someone knows the story.

My mom starts asking me about the new record, and I can’t
help but brag about it. We’ve been on all kinds of shows, playing on the
Tonight Show, and Ellen, and even out on Rockefeller Plaza for the Today Show.
We’ve been flying in a private jet, which has been sweet as hell, but we’ll
have a tour bus once we go on the road.

When I look up, Annabelle, I mean, Annie, is gone.

Where did she go? How did I miss her getting up?

“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask suddenly.

Cliff points down a hall, and I excuse myself and walk
briskly down the hall.

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and I can’t quite
explain why I said I need the bathroom when I don’t even need to take a leak.

There’s something about this girl. She’s like an enigma.
Dressed all high society tonight, but talking about rocking out and getting
fired from the Cherry Tower. It’s badass, and I need to know more about her.

As if to answer to my thoughts, a door opens, and she comes
out. The hallway is tight, and we suddenly find our bodies nearly pressed
together.

Her eyes look red, as if she’s been crying, and she gives me
a nasty look.

Not how I was imagining this fantasy.

“What are you doing?” she accuses.

For once, I’m speechless.

“I’m – I’m taking a piss,” I snap, as if it should be the
most obvious thing in the world. Shit. I didn’t mean to be so rude.

She shakes her head at herself. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s
wrong with me.”

I decide to take what I want.

I press her up against the wall, and push my body hard
against hers. I feel her tits soften and flatten against my chest, and her
mouth pops open in surprise. I take full advantage, pushing my lips against
hers, and I slide my tongue into that pink little mouth.

She tastes just as sweet as she smells, and I run my tongue
over her tongue in long luscious strokes.

She still hasn’t moved, and I figure she likes it, so I
slide my hands along her thin dress, and grab her hips, before rearing back and
thrusting my pelvis into her.

I moan with desire.

She’d be like heaven to fuck.

She starts to move, and I know she’s responding to me now,
realizing how damn good it feels.

That’s when I double over and howl with pain.

Chapter Four

Annie

I knee Dom Dresden, hard in the balls, and watch with
satisfaction as he cries out in pain.

Fucking jerk!

Who the hell does he think he is?

He catches me coming out of the bathroom, after I’ve gone on
a mini bender about Sid, and he has the nerve to push me against the wall and
kiss me?

Okay, maybe I liked it.

A lot.

But that's the problem.

He felt so good, his strong muscular frame pressed against
me, his tongue wet and warm in my needy mouth. Honestly, I feel beyond
flattered, and I understand why groupies drop their panties for him. I nearly
spread my legs for him right here.

But that’s what I
used
to do.

That’s exactly how it started with Sid. I fucked him the
very first night.

And if I’m being honest, that was my MO for all the other
guys, too.

But I’m not like that anymore.

And I don’t care if he’s Dom Fucking Dresden. He had no
right to kiss me like that.

“You crazy bitch!” he wheezes, doubled over. “What did you
do that for?”

“Maybe because your arrogant self-important ass kissed me!”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

What a jackass!

“I didn’t!” I hiss, even though it's a complete lie. “You
might be used to getting all the tail you want, but I’m not like that!”

 I feel like a fraud just saying that. I'm so glad that I
look more prim and proper right now than I usually do.

“Do you know how many girls would love what just happened?”
he asks crudely.

I let out a bitter laugh. “I’m sure they’re just lining up
for you.”

He winces slightly at my jab, good, I don’t care to be
around him one more second.

“Dickhead,” I mutter, as I turn on my heel and leave.

I sit back down at the table, and resume my dinner. Daddy
and Roxie are deep in conversation, but Roxie smiles kindly at me when I
return. How could she have given birth to that piece of shit back there? She
seems so nice.

“Annabelle, I would really love to hear you sing. Your dad
says you have a lovely voice.”

I give her a tight smile. “Not tonight.”

“Oh, please, honey. I haven’t heard you sing in ages,” my
dad begs. I forget that I’m probably going to need to ask him for a new car
soon.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My dad looks so hopeful, that I can’t disappoint him now.

I sigh dramatically.

“Fine.”

Roxie claps her hands as if I’ve just promised to take her
to the circus and my dad beams.

“Perfect! We’ll go in the music room in a few minutes while
Clara gets dessert ready.”

As my dad hurries to finish his dinner, I see Roxie notice
that Dom isn’t back yet.

“Did you happen to pass Dominic in the hallway?”

“Oh yes,” I smile sweetly. “He was a bit indisposed, but I’m
sure he’ll be okay in a few minutes.”

Roxie gives me a quizzical look but doesn’t say anything.