Rock Stars Do It Harder (2 page)

His eyes were on her, but she still couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was thinking.
 

“I’m sorry, Jamie. That was a dick thing to say.”

“Fucking right it was.”
Damn it, there goes me and my mouth again.

Why was he closer now? The glittery heart on her tank top, bulging with her breasts, brushed against his Led Zeppelin shirt. The contact, even that little bit, had lightning bolting through her. Her nipples weren’t even hard, but she was still shivering when each of her breaths had her chest expanding and pushing her against him.
 

“Well, I said I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m just—”

“No, now I’m the one being a dick,” she said. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m her best friend, and I’m probably just making things worse.”

His hand was still on her arm, circling her bicep. He was so close now she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. His gaze was intense, and Jamie felt something in her stomach clenching at the way his stare washed over her, glancing from her face to her thick, curly hair and down to her cleavage. Her shirt wasn’t low-cut, but it was tight enough that the outlines of her bra were visible.

And now, under his eyes, her nipples peaked and poked through her bra and thin cotton tank top to dimple the material.

She felt his body respond.
Oh, god. Oh, god. He’s huge.
She felt her body quivering and straining to feel more, get closer.
Get your ass out, Jamie.{danger comment}
 

She didn’t listen to herself. He wasn’t holding her arm so tightly that she couldn’t have gotten away, so why was she stuck in place like she was about to kiss him?

No. No.
No
.
 

Yes…

She was falling forward…

His lips were salty with sweat, soft yet firm, scouring her mouth with something like desperation. His hand tightened on her arm, his other hand slipping to the small of her back and pulling her close. She moved into him instinctively, crushing herself against him before she knew what she was doing.

Then reality hit like a palm-strike from Jesus.
What the hell am I doing?
 

Jamie threw herself backward out of his arms, away from his kiss. It hurt. It physically, mentally, and emotionally hurt to pull away so forcefully. He tasted, felt, and smelled like man-heaven. Hunk-nirvana. Sex-Valhalla. Were there other kinds of heaven she could compare that ten seconds to? Probably, but her brain was too fried to come up with them.

She’d
kissed
him
. It hadn’t been his fault. It was all her. She was a terrible, terrible best friend and an awful human being.
 

Jamie’s fingertips touched her lips, as if to keep the memory of his kiss close. Her back was to the door, and her breath came in ragged gasps. “That…that shouldn’t have happened. God. I’m so sorry.” She ducked her head so her copper curls draped in front of her face. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I’m sorry, Chase. I shouldn’t have—” she cut herself off and groped for the doorknob.
 

Time to beat a hasty retreat before he could come up with a scathing response. Or worse, kiss her back. ’Cause that would be terrible. Wonderful, amazing, incredible…and totally wrong. If he kissed her, he’d be a cad. If she let him, it would push her past having just made an innocent mistake and into heinous-bitch territory.

He took a step, licking his lips, brows furrowed in confusion. “Jamie, wait. Just hang on a second. That was—”

“A mistake,” she filled in for him. “Never going to happen again. It can’t. I’m Anna’s best friend, and you’re her ex. Us…that kiss…it’s not just ‘hell, no’ territory, it’s like…full-on ‘fuck no’ country.”

Chase’s lips quirked. “You drop the F-bomb a lot, don’t you?”

Jamie shrugged. “Yeah, I do. I know it turns a lot of guys off, but it’s just how I am.”

“I think it’s hot.”

Jamie backed up. “You’re not allowed to think I’m hot.”

“Why not?”

“Because. You just can’t. It makes this that much harder.”

“Makes what harder?” He took another step toward her.

She turned and spoke as she walked away. “This. The part where I do the right thing for once in my life. I’m gonna walk away, and we’re both going to pretend nothing happened.”

“But it did happen.” He was chasing her, moving through the bustling hallways after her, shouldering aside techies and band members and stage crew. “Jamie, wait. Just hang on and let’s talk about this.”

She shook her head, curls bouncing. “No way. Not happening, Chase. Don’t push me.”

She tried to ignore him. She saw the exit just ahead, the red-lettered sign shining in the distance, a thin bright line of white spearing through the backstage gloom as someone stepped out. She scurried for the exit, not looking back, trying to ignore the part of her that was begging,
Just one more kiss, Jay. Just one more. It can’t hurt anything.

She made it. She hit the crash bar with her hip and stepped out into the oppressive, dry desert Las Vegas heat, squinting at the sudden brilliance of the day. She fumbled in her purse for her sunglasses and slipped them on, thankful for the emotion-blocking quality of the mirrored aviator shades.

But of course, he was right behind her. His hand was on her hip, spinning her around. How did he do that? She wasn’t a small girl, and she worked out. She took kickboxing. Jamie knew she was buff. He shouldn’t be able to manhandle her like she was some sprightly little thing.
 

“Jamie, just hang the fuck on for a second.” His voice was a low growl. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend it didn’t happen, but I know why you’re bugging about this, and you’re right. It’s…complicated. But I don’t think—”

Jamie smacked his hand away from her body, needing clarity, and god knew his hand on her wasn’t helping. “Don’t think what? Think it won’t be a problem? Think we can just hook up and no one will be any wiser? She’ll
know
, Chase. She’s my best friend, and I can’t lie to her. Trust me, I’ve tried. We’re like…psychic with each other. She’s lied to me, and I’ve known when she was lying. I know when she’s hiding something, and vice versa. Not to mention,
it’s wrong
. You don’t fuck your friend’s exes, Chase. You just don’t.”

“Who said anything about fucking, or hooking up? It was just a kiss.”

Jamie snorted. “Sh-yeah.
Just
a kiss. Right. And I’m the Virgin Mary.”

Chase smirked, the first real humor to enliven his face. “Then what would you consider it?”

“A gateway drug?”

Chase laughed, a belly laugh. “A gateway drug, huh?” He sobered and closed in on her; Jamie wanted to back away, but she was rooted to the spot, pinned by his intense gaze, his fierce presence. “Then I’d be interested in seeing what the hard stuff would be like.”

Jamie forced herself away again. “No, Chase. That can’t happen. How can you be thinking about that at a time like this?”

“You expect me to pine for Anna forever? I’ve had weeks to forget her, to move on. This was the clincher. Just…salt in the wound. I can’t live my life in the shadow of her rejection.”

“Bullshit.” Jamie poked his broad chest with a finger. “You’re not over her. I saw the look on your face.”

Chase’s face closed down. “I didn’t say I was over her. I said I had to move on.”

“Well, this isn’t the way. Hooking up with me isn’t the way.”

Chase frowned. “You keep talking about hooking up. I never said or did anything to suggest that. You did.”

Jamie clenched her teeth and turned away. “You’re right. My bad. Have a nice life, Chase.” She walked away again, and this time he didn’t follow her.
 

Jamie found herself tensed and expecting to feel his hand on her; she was torn between hoping he would and fearing the consequences if he did.

CHAPTER 2

Chase watched Jamie leave, wondering why his heart was palpitating. It might have had something to do with the way her fine, round ass swayed, cupped by denim so tight it left little to the imagination. It also might have had something to do with the searing memory of her kiss on his lips.
 

Ten seconds of time, but he knew he was ruined for other women, other lips. He’d gone from limp to raging erection in a single breath, a single brush of her balm-slick, strawberry-tasting lips.
 

It also might have had something to do with her unequivocal rejection. She’d kissed him, then bolted as if stung. Chase understood her reservations, and damn it all if she wasn’t absolutely correct, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Neither did how soft she was, how perfectly she fit in his arms, how her curves had molded to his body like puzzle pieces snugging into place. She’d enjoyed the kiss as much as he had; she could deny it all day long, but Chase knew she’d felt the same things he had.
 

He wanted Jamie, hard.
 

But the way she’d walked off with her jaw set and her emerald eyes blazing with determination left little doubt that he’d ever see again.
 

Which really, really,
really
sucked. Chase knew he’d walk through the Mojave desert stark naked if it meant getting just one more kiss from her. But she wouldn’t let that happen.
 

Chase turned away with a whispered curse. She was right. Goddamn it, she was right. He had to forget about Jamie. He was still broken up over Anna.

Being faced with her so suddenly, apropos of nothing…that fucking hurt. She’d seemed so surprised, so conflicted. As if merely seeing him had pained her. Which just went to show that she wasn’t as over him as she’d tried to make it seem.
 

One look at Anna’s sweet, innocent face, blue eyes and blonde hair and lush curves…and Chase had been lost all over again. Wishing he could hold her, kiss her, hear the low, passionate moans she used to make for him as she came. She’d been so eager, so hungry, like no one had ever paid attention to her, like she just had no clue how sexy she was. It was a turn-on all by itself, her strangely erotic innocence. She’d changed the way he saw sex. He’d thought he was teaching her, and all along she was showing him how much more than mere hormones and pheromones and orgasms it could be. Sex had always been fun for him. When he first met her and invited her back to his place, he’d thought it would be an enjoyable night in the sack with a hot girl who had some killer curves. But then it had changed. No warning, no clue. Just…it was more. From the first kiss in the car, stolen as she drove away, Chase had seen her hang-ups and had wanted to fix them. She didn’t see her own sexiness, and he’d made it his mission to show her what she was, what she had that men wanted.

In the end, she’d shown him that sex could have meaning. And goddamn if he didn’t want that again.
 

But Anna was gone forever. She’d chosen Jeff over him. Chase had seen enough to know she really, truly loved Jeff. She was happy with him, and Chase wasn’t going to begrudge her that. She deserved happiness.
 

He wished it could have been with him, but that wasn’t meant to be, and he had to move on.
 

He just didn’t know how. That random groupie who had seduced him…he could have pursued her. She might have distracted him for a while. But he hadn’t.
 

Now Jamie had to go and show up, kiss him, rock his world, and ruin the little bit of progress he’d been making.
 

What now?

“Hey, Chase, there you are.” Gage popped his head out of the door. “We need you inside, dude. Cleo from Murder Doll Asylum is looking for you. She wants you to do a couple songs with her.”

Chase followed his bassist inside and through the backstage area. “Murder Doll Asylum?”

Gage shrugged. “Yeah, I know, right? Bizarre-as-hell name, but I listened to a couple of their songs on the way down, and they’re fucking brutal, man. She’s got a killer voice.” He quirked an eyebrow at Chase, grinning. “And having met her, she’s got a killer body to go with it. Could be fun, if you know what I mean.”

Chase waved his hand. “I’ll do the set, but that’s it, man.”

Gage made a disgusted face. “Dude, listen. You’re all hung up on that chick. I know you liked her, but you’ve gotta get over her. You’ve been a mopey fucktard for weeks, man. Distract yourself. That one chick a few weeks ago, Shannon? The one with the black hair and the huge tits? You tapped that, right? She was asking us at the after-party why you weren’t there. She wanted you, bro. Like, hard.”

Chase could only shrug. “Yeah, I hit it. She was hot and all, and it was good, but…I just don’t know. She didn’t hold my interest. I don’t know what else to say. I’m just not interested.”

Gage shook his head again. “Well…I guess it’s whatever you want, man. But we’ve been friends since ninth grade, man, and this ain’t you. You’re all…
depressed
and shit. We’re on the way up, man! We’re playing Madison Square Garden next week—how huge is that?”

“We’re opening for the openers, Gage,” Chase said. “But I know. Okay? I know. Just give me some time. I’ll come around.”

Gage slapped him on the back, playfully hard. “Just do me one favor?”

“If I can.”

 
Gage grinned lecherously. “Don’t count Cleo out before you’ve met her, bro. She’s hot. Like…
hot.
And I’m pretty sure she’s into you. I mean, fuckin’
every
girl on the
planet
is into you, but Cleo is fine as hell, and she can scream like a banshee, man. Their tracks are sick.”

Chase forced a grin and a laugh so Gage would get off his case. “I’ll try to keep my mind open.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Murder Doll Asylum was an all-girl screamo band led by Cleo Calloway. They’d made a name for themselves as a band that could rock as hard on stage and play as hard off-stage as any of the all-male metal outfits. Six Foot Tall wasn’t strictly metal, but they had enough hard numbers that they could fit in with billings that featured harder acts. This gig in Vegas was with a ton of metal bands of several subgenres, headlined by acts like Hatebreed, Devil Driver, and Otep; it was the hardest grouping of bands they’d ever played with, and all the guys in Six Foot Tall were finding the process of adjusting from the tamer rock acts they usually played with to the darker, harder thrash, screamo, and death metal bands on this gig to be a strange but fun adventure.