I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) (4 page)

With about the sexiest grin she’d ever seen, Slater nodded. “Of course. You really turned Caroline’s life around.”

“Oh, thank you, but she was ready to make some changes.” She extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Keeping one arm around Emmie’s waist, he extended the other, grasping her hand in a firm shake. “What exactly are you going to do for the guys?”

Good question. “Keep the drugs and alcohol away, create alternatives for partying, and offer a healthy lifestyle that will make all of you more creative, more productive, and a closer community.”

A dazzling smile appeared, and she felt the sizzle of it down to her toes. “Well, then, welcome aboard.” He called to the driver. “Abe, you wanna let the guys on?”

“You got it, boss.”

And just like that, the quiet bus exploded into mayhem.

Derek watched Emmie and Slater head to their bedroom. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about the pictures that had gone viral, since they’d been working all day and night. From sound check to interviews to the performance itself, they hadn’t had a break.

He had no doubt Irwin had seen the pictures.
Oh, hell
. He hated letting Irwin down. Instead of spending time with Gen last night, he should’ve stayed with the guys. He’d watch them more carefully from now on.

Just then the bathroom door opened, and out stepped a woman he didn’t recognize. Long legs, incredibly short jean shorts, and a stretchy tank top that hinted at big tits. But the silky shirt she wore unbuttoned over it mostly covered her chest, so he couldn’t tell.

“Hi.” She stood before him, eyes all bright and eager.

“Hey.” His gaze slid past her to the other nymphs. Had she come in with them? He couldn’t recall. He hadn’t seen her in the green room, but maybe she’d joined them along the way. It’d been too dark outside to say for sure.

“You’re Derek, right?”

He nodded. Something about her . . . no, she definitely wasn’t with the others. First off, she was older. But it wasn’t
age that made him question her. It was the intelligence in her eyes. The sharpness.

Reporter?

“I’m Scarlet.”

“Those your friends?”

She glanced to the other girls. “No, I don’t know them. I met Slater after the show. I sorta followed him. He said he didn’t want to party, but that I could hang out with you guys for a little while.”

Legit answer. Okay, so maybe she
was
just a nymph. He relaxed a little. “You from Daytona?”

She shook her head with a soft smile. “Just visiting.”

He liked her soft voice and the spark in her eyes. “So where’re your friends, Scarlet? What’re you doing alone on a bus with a bunch of horny rockers?”

“My friends are with ElectroRocket.” She made a face, indicating she didn’t like that band. “I hate electronic music. I like you guys much more.”

“You like our music or you want to hang out with the band?”

“I’m down to party. It’s just . . . I don’t have a ride until my friends get kicked off ElectroRocket’s bus, you know? I didn’t want to party with them—they don’t have the best reputation—and then I saw Slater, and I thought . . .” She hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’d see what was going on with you guys.” She stepped closer to him, eyelids lowering just a little. “You don’t want me here?” She got a little breathy.

He leaned a hip against the counter. What he wanted was to find out how Irwin had reacted to the pictures in the press, but Emmie and Slater probably wouldn’t surface until morning, and Gen had spent half the day traveling back to the city.

“Tell you what. In forty minutes, we hit the road. So you want to hang with a rock band . . .” He gestured to the guys. “That’s your best bet.”

Meanwhile, he’d spend his forty minutes with Gen. Maybe get some phone sex.

“They’ve already got friends.” Her pink tongue flicked out to moisten her lips.

A shock of lust hit him, making his dick hum. Okay, he
had no idea what-was-what with this chick, but her whole demeanor . . . she was just too fucking
elegant
to be a nymph. “That’s kind of how it works, sweetheart. So just enjoy it while you can.” He pushed away from the counter. “Coop?”

His friend had a girl on each knee; one had her hands shoved down his pants. Maybe he should send Scarlet to someone else.

“Ben?” The drummer was swallowed up in a three-pack.
“Ben?”

Ben tore his attention away from the girls.

“You got room for one more?”

The drummer smiled, checking Scarlet out. “Fuck, yeah. Come on over, beautiful.” One of the girls gripped his shoulder and forcibly returned him to the conversation.

“Did you just pass me off to someone else?” Scarlet didn’t have even a hint of hurt in her. She just looked amused.

“That a problem? It’s not like you had your heart set on me.” Like nymphs cared who they fucked, as long as they could say they got with someone in a band.

“I wouldn’t bring my
heart
into it, but the rest of me was looking forward to spending time with the bass player.”

So she knew what he played. “You got a thing for bass players?”

“Oh, yeah. You guys are the coolest. I always think the front man’s so . . . full of himself. I can’t stand show-offs. All big and loud and look-at-me.”

He liked this chick. “And yet you saw Slater and thought you’d get some of that.”

She smiled. “Well, come on, Slater-fucking-Vaughn? Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

What the fuck?

“I’m just kidding. Seriously, everyone knows he’s with that girl . . . I forget her name. I’m just messing with you. No, seriously, he’s not my type.” While her smile was sweet, it was also soft and surprisingly sensual.

“Okay, well, have fun. I’ve got shit to do.”

If he were drunk, he wouldn’t have noticed it. If he weren’t already suspicious, he probably wouldn’t have either. But he
did
notice the look of intensity—the rush of
energy that suddenly galvanized her. “We could do shit together. We’ve got, what, thirty-five minutes?”

“I’m not the guy for you. Don’t worry, they’ll show you a good time.”

If he stayed with her any longer, he probably would’ve caved. She had a soft, sexy femininity that stirred his blood. So he quickly turned and shut himself in the lounge. He only had one thing on his mind. Pulling out his phone, he called Gen.

“Hey, handsome.”

Her sexy purr usually got him hard. Tonight, though, he just wanted information. “You back in the city?”

“Just got to my building.” She snapped right back into business mode.

Sitting down on the couch, he tipped his head back against the wall and scraped a hand through his hair, still damp from a shower. “Talk to Irwin yet?”

“Not yet. He’s not returning my calls.”

“Shit. He’s pissed.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

He heard the message in her tone, and it pissed him off. He’d dropped the ball, and she had to clean up the mess. “It won’t happen again.”

“Oh, I know it won’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ll make sure you do everything you need to keep your band on track.”

Okay, now she was really pissing him off. Like he needed her to tell him that? “I got it under control, Gen.”

“Hang on,” she said. “I just walked in the door.” He heard some background noises, a door slamming. “Ah, home sweet home. Where I can strip off my dress and dip into my honeypot while I listen to your sexy voice. Mmm.”

“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he said. “Talking to the guys doesn’t work. Limiting their partying isn’t working either. I’m thinking about imposing fines. I know they’re not going to like it, but that’s too bad. We can’t afford another night like last night.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Gen? You there?”

“Mm-hm.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just checking mail.” And then her tone turned seductive. “Now, I’m heading into my bedroom so you can take care of me.”

“Christ.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to finish our business last night. Such a waste. We hardly ever get to be together. But you can make it up to me right now. Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”

“A black push-up bra and a thong.” He felt restless, edgy. He wondered what Scarlet was doing. Wondered if he should check on her, make sure she wasn’t too uncomfortable. No matter who she was, he knew this wasn’t her scene.

“Guess what I’m doing right now?” she purred.

“Skinning a cat?”

“Okay, you’re taking all the fun out of our evening. I’m trying to relax you.”

“Gotta tell you, not feeling all that relaxed. I want to know what Irwin’s thinking.”

The door opened, and Scarlet peeked into the small room. She took in the
Rolling Stone
and
Guitar Player
magazines littering the table, the beer bottles and discarded clothing on the floor and counters. Her gaze followed the soles of his boots up his legs, hovering around his package before finishing its lazy appraisal of his body at his mouth.

And,
fuck
, if his dick didn’t feel the love.

She smiled. “Hey.”

“I’m not really in the mood tonight, babe,” he said to Gen. “Got too much on my mind. Sorry.”

“Ouch. Are you dismissing me? We haven’t even had any sexy time yet.”

“I’ve got to clear out the bus,” he said. “Almost time to hit the road.”

“Call me later.”

“Count on it.” He disconnected the call. Standing up, he pocketed the phone. “Problem?”

Scarlet came all the way in, leaving the door open. “I don’t think there’s room for me out there.”

“Don’t like competition, huh?”

She shook her head, releasing all that dark, silky hair. His senses heightened, and he became aware of her scent. Light, floral . . . different. “I prefer one-on-one situations.”

Desire kicked hard, heat spreading through him. “Yeah?”

“You got a beer or something?” Again, she looked around the room, reactivating his suspicions. She sure as shit wasn’t looking for an unopened warm beer.

“In the refrigerator.” He pointed behind her, toward the kitchen. He’d see what she did next.

“You don’t keep anything in here?”

“By anything, I assume you’re talking about things other than liquor?” He was right about her. Underneath all that eyeliner and those flirty clothes was a shark. And that scent? It was too elegant, too . . . unique.

This woman was a reporter. And she was out to dig up some dirt on him.

Had Irwin sent her?

No, of course not. Irwin wouldn’t bother with petty shit like that. Reporters did it for their own gain.

He moved closer to her, watching her reaction carefully. How far would she go to get her story? “What exactly are you looking for? We’ve only got fifteen minutes left.” Stopping inches from her, he peered down into her hazel eyes.

“What’ve you got?” She slid her hands into his back pockets, clutched the fabric—but not his ass. Now, that was interesting. Did she have limits?

He took her chin, forced her to look at him. “Look, sweetheart, let’s get right down to it. What do you want?”

“I want to have fun with you.”

“What kind of fun?”

“I just want to party.”

“You bring anything?” He watched carefully for a reaction.

She shook her head. “I figured you guys would have something here.”

“Oh, I’ve got something, all right.” Pulling her hand out of his pocket, he brought it around to his cock.

She tensed, wrenching her wrist away.

Why did he like that so much? He didn’t give a shit about a reporter out to fuck him over, but he liked that she had a
line she wouldn’t cross. She had some sense of decency. “This is how we have fun, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

With a mischievous look in her eyes, she licked her lips. “Oh, I know. I just thought we’d have another kind of fun first, you know?” And then she got on her toes, her breasts brushing his chest as she leaned into him, and whispered in his ear, “I get so wild when I’m high.”

“Yeah?” One finger on her collarbone pushed her back on her heels. “We don’t have time to get you high.” Settling a hand on each shoulder, he pressed, urging her to her knees.

And here it was. Just how far would she take this game?

She stepped away. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. It’s so much more fun when we’re high. Come on.”

He reached for her, tugged her toward him. “Your time with the band is almost up, sweetheart.” He unzipped his jeans with one hand, while the other reached for her wrist. “You either get on your knees or you can get off the bus and go find your friends.”

He was so sure he’d see fear in her eyes. So sure she’d freak out, that he wasn’t prepared for her head tilting back as she let out a laugh loud enough to hurt his ears in the small room.

“That’s it? That’s all you got?” She shook her head, wiping her eyes. “Oh, my God, you’re supposed to be the sex god.”

Derek froze.

“I thought you’d make it really good for me. But pushing me on my knees? I can get that anywhere.”

Every muscle in his body tightened. “Then get after it, sweetheart.” He pushed past her, a dangerous energy coursing through him.

Striding to the front of the bus, he saw a girl writhing on Cooper’s lap, his jeans down at his knees. Pete had two topless girls making out with each other, one perched on each thigh. “Jesus Christ, guys, I told you no fucking on the bus. My
sister’s
here.”

Ben looked up, his glazed eyes coming into focus as he pushed the girl between his knees away. “Dude, chill, no one’s fucking.” He looked completely wasted.

Fuck, what had they become? It was just over a year ago they’d written up a contract of acceptable behavior. And
now, not two weeks into their first headlining tour, they were already spiraling out of control.

“Everyone off the bus. Now. Let’s go.” When no one moved, he smacked Cooper’s shoulder. “Coop. We’re hitting the road. Get the girls off the bus.”

Ben and Cooper pulled their girls off reluctantly, but Pete was completely lost in the action on his lap as the groupies writhed against each other. Coop punched his arm. “Dude, let’s go.”

Pete’s head wobbled, and he seemed completely out of it. Booze didn’t do that to him, so Derek knew Pete was taking some serious shit. They didn’t need a reporter catching them behaving like this.

Too much anger pulsed through him, so he grabbed Ben’s shirt to get his attention, brought him right up to his face. “You’ve got five minutes to clear the bus.”

He nodded, and Derek turned to the kitchen.

Fuck.
He had this under control, right?

His eyes squeezed shut. Imposing fines? Like that would mean shit to these guys. He needed to figure something out. In the morning, he’d meet with Slater and Emmie. Between the three of them, they’d get a handle on the situation. It wasn’t that far gone.

He’d grab a beer, head to his bunk, and get his shit together—but wait. Fuck. Where’d the reporter go? Had she gotten pictures of the guys just then? But when he turned around, he didn’t see her.