Authors: S.K Logsdon
Tags: #romance, #erotic, #erotica, #music, #series, #band, #rock and roll
Copyright © 2014 by: S.K Logsdon
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
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Cover art by: Marika Kraukle
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I wanted to give a special shout out to authors
Samantha Towle and Michelle A. Valentine. Who inspired me to write
For this story I wanted to send out a special thanks
to all of my friends and fans. It’s through your amazing
encouragement that I’ve grown as an author and tried my best to
give you wonderful books to read. I love you all!
An extra special thanks is owed to Tracy, who has
done nothing but be my constant support system while writing this
final Stricken Rock installment. Reading, almost on a daily basis
my newest chapters and giving me feedback. And in times of need,
she’s squashed my high level anxiety that I experienced when
finishing this emotional series. I love you-You rock
TEAM PAPA BEAR!
Stricken Rock Series
Forever Attraction- Coming 2014
The Circle of Blood Series
Of Delicate Mind
Conventional Hearts Series
Lex – Coming April 2014
This book is a work of fiction created by the author
S.K Logsdon and is not associated with any real band, lives or
Being the man everybody loves to hate isn’t
always the best feeling in the world. Shit, who the fuck am I
kidding? It sucks major donkey balls. You grow up a habitual fuck
up, your dad kills your mom and you’re shoved from one damn foster
home to the next. It isn’t exactly the
Leave it to Beaver
way of life. Then one day you wake up and meet this beautiful
woman, who’s sassy as hell and has the most beautiful long red hair
and perky luscious tits. God, Emily and those tits. I’m getting
hard just thinking about them.
Moving along, or I won’t get shit done today.
I’ve got to meet up with the boys later.
The past months have been torture. Not just
for me. But, sadly Emily’s been held up in the best hospital, with
doctors round the clock. I can’t believe I almost made us lose our
babies. Can I be any more of a fuck up? I love the damn woman with
every god-dammed thing in me. But what’s even sicker is that I’m in
love with someone else too. Cammy, oh how that beautiful blonde
bombshell makes me cream in my pants when she walks into a room.
She’s easy to be with and she takes care of me, like it comes
natural for her. Which makes me love her even more. Being with
Cammy is as simple as breathing, for me. Which is why all of this
is even harder than I ever thought possible.
Weeks upon weeks Emily’s been laid up in that
sterile hospital with James. Fucking Calvin James! Don’t even get
me started on that backstabbing bastard. Works as my personal
bodyguard for years. I do the right thing and have the one person
in the entire world that I could never lose, protected. He’s good.
Not just some rent-a-cop bullshit, the real damn deal. Kept me safe
from the paps and myself. But what does the prick do? He moves in
on what is mine and the nut buster of it all is—she wants him too.
I see it in her eyes. The glint of hope and love when he’s around
her. I’ve sensed it for months. Guess being a horned up rocker, you
ignore the signs. They are nineteen years apart. Did you know that?
Who would have thought some old fart like him could land a hot sexy
woman like her? She’s abso-fucking-lutely perfect.
Well, I’m not perfect, not in the least bit.
I’ve lied to her constantly, even about Cammy. Who I’ve still not
confessed having a relationship with. I know it bothers Cammy,
we’ve had this discussion over and over. She’s understanding, and,
everything I’m supposed to want and love. Which I do. But Emily is
carrying my babies.
babies. She’s the one who made me
want to become a better man. Even if I can’t stick to it half of
the damn time. I still drink too much, I fuck Cammy just about
every night. Then I wake up the next morning worried as hell that
Emily is going to find out and never let me see my babies because
I’m a liar. But if I’m truly honest with myself, I’m worried Emily
. I’ve fretted about that since day one. I’ve
given her countless reasons to never speak to me again. Instead she
supports me and gives me space to make myself grow. Even though I
wish she’d been the one holding my hand through all of this. She
hasn’t, Cammy has. I wouldn’t have made it this far without either
I know deep down Emily has a nurturing side.
A side of her who can take care of and love a man wholly. To be
there for him and support him in every way possible. She’s just
never done that for me. She’s emotionally supportive but the rest
is nonexistent. She’s not held my hand through A.A. meetings, like
Cammy. Or dried my tears when I’ve been so drunk from a binge that
I cry for hours because the one person in the world I want to love
me, doesn’t. That’s what happened three flippin’ days ago.
I was out sitting on the damp golden sand as
Dylan and Cammy went to visit my Short Stack. I’d been there the
day before and that big rock twinkling on her finger kills me every
time I lay my eyes upon it. It seriously fucks my head up, for
days. So I’ve been trying to keep my distance. Instead I text or
call daily. It pains me watching her helpless in bed, with a belly
stretched to its max. She looks like it could pop like a balloon at
any moment. I want to rub it and comfort her. I want to be the one
who holds her godforsaken hand. But no, I had to be the man who
tried to get back with an ex. A man who got hooked on coke again
because I couldn’t handle my overwhelming feelings for her. The
douche who cheated on her in that plane. I knew what I was doing. I
was angry and I didn’t care—at the time. Looking back at it all
now, I was the one to push her towards James. He was the one to
pick up and mend the pieces of her broken heart. The one who
provided comfort, when I was the one creating the pain and anguish.
The amount of pain she has felt because of me. Mine seems like only
a fraction of what I’ve put her through. Now, being sober and
finally having my head on straight, I see that. I see it all. If
only I’d paid more attention back when it all began.
Three days ago, Cammy found me on the beach
in front of our house. I was obliterated and blubbering like an
idiot, incapable of walking. So, like the selfless woman she is,
she helped me up the staircase staggering like a newborn colt. Not
many words were exchanged, although I faintly remember her bringing
me into my bedroom, removing my sand littered clothes and tucking
me in, allowing me to sleep off my drunkenness alone, in the
bedroom I was going to share with Emily at some point. The room
that I wanted to be ours as our twins danced into our room as
toddlers, to wake us up, excited to play in the surf. That’s why I
bought this beach house. To provide that close-knit family for our
twins. Then James went off and ruined that for me. Him and his
strong diplomatic self. Fuck, I really shouldn’t hate the man. But
I do. He. Has. Her. Son of a bitch!
I really need to calm down. I can feel my
blood starting to boil. Thinking about them together does that to
me. ‘Mama Bear and Papa Bear’ Oh what a load of complete and utter
bullshit. Cammy thinks it’s cute. Fuck cute! I want what is
I clinch my fist at my sides as I sit on the
raised back deck of the beach house, overlooking the surf. The
waves are breaking beautifully on the sand. The salty sea mist is
filling my nose with its kickass freshness. There’s a light breeze
today. So serene and majestic. I sit as far away from the spot
where Emily fell and nearly bled to death on the deck. I had to
hire cleaners to come in and remove the stain. There was so much
blood. The thought of even sitting close to where it all happened
makes me squeamish. I almost lost her.
“Hey handsome, what cha’ doin’?”
I turn my head to see Cammy walking up the
stairs, carrying two drinks in her hands.
“Here.” She offers me a tall glass full of
“Thanks.” I gratefully accept it and she
takes a seat next to me, on one of the long wooden loungers with
cream cushions. At least these are something my Short Stack hadn’t
picked out. Cammy and I did. We bought all the outdoor furniture
shortly after Emily was admitted into the hospital.
“So, what’s with the long face?” She smiles
my way with her adorable china doll like features.
Fuck me sideways, I’m hard, already. Cammy is
so damn pretty.
“Just thinking, the babies should be along in
a few weeks. Did you talk with Shor… Emily today?” I correct
myself, reminding myself that using the affectionate nickname Short
Stack in reference to Emily makes Cammy uncomfortable.
“Yes, I spoke with James after Dylan insisted
I called so he could chat with Papa and Mama Bear.”
I cringe, wrinkling my nose in disgust. There
goes those stupid nicknames, again.
“And...” I probe lightly.
“She’s fine, Johnathan. The babies are fine.
Dylan said she watched SpongeBob today, the same episode he
watched. So they got to compare notes. I didn’t speak with her
directly. James just said she was doing really well. The twins are
on track after last week’s labor scare. Nothing to fear.” Her tone
is soft but I can hear the underlying agitation between the lines.
I know talking about Emily isn’t the top of her priority list.
Don’t get me wrong, she likes Emily. I don’t doubt that for a
second. But… And that’s a huge but… I think she’s got a lot of
unresolved jealousy issues because she knows she plays second
fiddle in my heart. I know that’s completely and stupidly wrong.
Shit, who am I kiddin’, it’s ten ways of fucked, in the ass, with a
baseball bat, on Easter Sunday. That’s me. Johnathan Striker. The
numero uno asshole.
I pensively nod. “That’s good to hear.”
“We need to talk,” Cammy states abruptly,
sitting up further in her chair. Her blonde hair falling wistfully
over her shoulders, catching the faint breeze. The blues of her
eyes sparkling in the midday sun, with the bright blue sky pouring
over her delicate features. She’s wearing one of those cute
everyday sundresses, except today this one is in a baby blue color.
That brings out the speckles of gold in her eyes.