Rock Free Excerpt

Wes

As the lead guitarist for one of the country’s hottest rock bands, I’d met plenty of gorgeous women, but the one standing in front of the elevator was definitely the cream of the crop. Close to six feet tall in spiked heels, her long legs stretched out for miles under her black miniskirt. Creamy, pale skin, highlighted by a few freckles here and there showcased her auburn hair, half-tucked into an oversized red hoodie. Pouty, full lips and rounded breasts molded by a black T-shirt set my imagination on fire, but the most riveting thing about her were her eyes—bright green, glittering precious stones.

Earlier, I’d snuck away from our post-show meet n’ greet and headed for the venue’s service elevator to take me to our limos. Usually I liked to stay and check out the fans, hook up with a willing one, but not tonight. I had a lot on my mind, including the rock video we were planning to shoot.

Bands had been making “rockumentaries” for years—U2’s Rattle and Hum was the first one I’d ever seen, and that had been filmed back in the late ’80s. Now our record label was after us to do the same. I’d been running over several ideas for scenes in my head, but thoughts about the movie fled my mind as soon as I turned the corner and saw the girl in the red hoodie. She must have ducked out through an emergency exit in the venue, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of Point Break’s band members.

If so, she was in luck.

Still, after a quick glance my way, she didn’t gush or fawn the way I’d been expecting. Instead, she stared straight ahead. When the elevator doors opened, she stepped inside, and I slid in right beside her. “Going down?” I asked. When she gave me a tight nod, I pressed the button for the ground floor and smiled.

And waited.

I’d changed out of my concert clothes, and in a white T-shirt and jeans, with no stage makeup on, I looked a lot different than I had a half hour ago onstage. Didn’t matter. Fans usually had no problem identifying me. An occupational hazard you could call it, or a perk, depending on the situation. Still, I always made it a point to never forget how it feels to be a fan.

Finally, the girl glanced at me again, then instantly bit her lip and looked down at her shoes. Almost immediately, however, her gaze roved up the length of my thigh. Her mouth relaxed and opened slightly, and I knew—whether she recognized me or not, she was attracted to me. She seemed reserved, yes, but then she looked up and smiled. Waiting for me to make a move, I figured, but she wasn’t acting coy, just…shy. I liked that.

I held out my hand. “Hi. I’m Wes.”

“I know who you are,” she said. A blush spread across her cheeks and she groaned. “I mean, hi, my name’s Sara.” We shook hands, and I was just marveling at how soft her skin felt when she let go. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a complete dork, especially considering I already look like one.” She tugged at her oversized red hoodie. I studied it, realizing the hoodie was actually a cape. Intriguing. Most of the fans at the small, exclusive concert tonight had worn halter tops or belly shirts. Sara looked like she’d wandered out of a cosplay convention dressed as a naughty Little Red Riding Hood, and damn, she owned the look.

“You come across just fine,” I said, taking in her strong and curvy body. More than fine, actually. Push-her-against-a-wall-and-find-out-what-she’s-all-about kind of fine. She caught me checking her out and her blush grew more intense, making her cheeks almost as red as her cape. Totally adorable.

“Um, thanks?” she said. Then she rolled her eyes at herself again, and when I chuckled, she laughed.

“So Sara, is this your first Point Break concert?”

She shook her head and pulled a face. “I may have to drop out of college because of you guys. I used most of my final semester’s books and supplies budget to get tickets for this ‘intimate event’ thing. I’ll be eating ramen noodles for weeks.”

I winced. Yeah, the tickets had definitely been pricey, especially for a college student on a limited budget. She’d said “final semester,” though, so I figured she was at least twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. Fantastic. “I hope getting an advanced preview of our new songs was worth it.”

Her eyes lit up. “The concert was amazing! In fact—”

The elevator groaned, then shook like a dragon coughing up a lung, sending us stumbling. I grabbed onto the rail, and when the elevator lurched again, Sarah fell against me. I caught her with my free arm and held her tight.

A loud screech sounded as metal ground on metal and then the whole elevator came to a dead stop. Keeping one arm around her, I reached out and jabbed at the buttons. The elevator didn’t move.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I murmured into Sarah’s soft and sweet smelling hair. I was thrilled when she didn’t pull away, but my thrill slacked when I realized her fingers were digging into my sides. The girl was freaked.

“We’re stuck,” she said, her voice shaky.

“Yep. Between floors two and three. Give me a second. Just need to use the Emergency button to call for help.” I pressed the button and didn’t hear a response. I didn’t let go of Sarah, who still clung to me like a long, tall limpet. Damn, she smelled great, although I couldn’t place the scent. With my other hand I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked cell service. Nope. Nada.

I didn’t tell Sara I had no cell service and instead texted Liam, Point Break’s singer and the band member who checked his phone most often. Maybe a text could go through even if a phone call couldn’t; Sara needed to know I was doing all I could. I thumb-typed, “stuck in service elevator—call 4 help,” hit SEND, then stuffed the phone back in my pocket.

“There. I texted for help. I’m sure someone will be along any minute. Got anywhere to be?” I asked, trying to make conversation to keep her mind off the fact that we were stuck.

She shook her head and stepped out of my arms. Weird how reluctant I was to let her go.

“Me, either,” I said. It wasn’t like my bandmates were waiting for me. As soon as the meet n’ greet was over, the guys would likely end up hanging out with their girlfriends. Liam, Tucker, and Corbin had all found their “special someone” over the last year.

It had all started with Liam and Abby, our background cellist. They’d had a rocky start but were in it for the long haul. In fact, I’d recently noticed Liam scoping rings on the sly on his laptop. But he’d just been the start.

Tucker had found himself Nikki, a tempestuous couture shoe designer, in Paris. She’d had some issues but got through rehab and found a more balanced but still plenty wild life with Tucker, who I never imagined would ever settle down. With a nickname like Tucker the Fucker, who would?

Even our bassist, Corbin, had recently flown out his girlfriend, Aimee Bodine, who ran a restaurant in New Orleans. They’d met most recently, when Corbin went on the road to play small clubs and ended up in Point Maison, Louisiana, of all places. Aimee was currently on break, enjoying the Big Apple with Point Break as her guide.

So, yeah, all my friends had found the women of their dreams. Me, I was fine being alone, although Ben—my best friend from high school and my hookup for most of the last two tours—had recently broached the idea of us being exclusive.

I’d known immediately it wasn’t what I wanted.

I loved him. As a friend. As a lover, too.

But he didn’t fill any burning need inside of me. He was just…Ben.

I hadn’t told him that, but I hadn’t lied, either. I’d told him I needed time to think on it. I’d reassured him this wasn’t because I was still not “out”—hell, not even my bandmates knew I was bi. Well, maybe Liam did, because he’d walked in on Ben and me during a drunken stupor, but he hadn’t said anything. Still, I didn’t feel like I was keeping my sexuality top secret. I’d had a few casual hook-ups with guys, and any one of them could out me at any time. Like Liam, they’d kept the info to themselves, otherwise it would have made the press by now. And it wasn’t anyone’s business. As far as I was concerned, there was no reason to publicly announce my sexual preferences to the world any more than it was for anyone else.

I jabbed at the red button on the emergency phone a few more times.

“Emergency,” a voice finally rang out in the stillness of the elevator.

“Hi, we’re stuck in the service elevator at Hell’s Bells,” I said, rattling off the cross streets.

“We’ll send someone right out. Happens all the time.”

Really? I barely refrained from saying they should probably fix the damn thing. “How long?” I asked.

“Usually takes the fire department twenty minutes.”

Sara made a small noise and I turned back to her. She was pale and shaking, her eyes lit with panic.

“Can you get someone out here faster?” I snapped.

“Anyone bleeding profusely? Having a heart attack? In labor?” When I grunted no, the operator added, “Standard response time for a stuck elevator in this part of town. Hold tight. Call back if there’s a medical emergency.” The call ended.

“Hey, it’s all right. Are you okay?” I patted her back, rubbing her shoulders as best as I could. With her height, we were eye-level.

She moaned and shook her head. Then she half-laughed, half-cried. “I feel so stupid. It’s just, I’ve always been claustrophobic, so this is freaking me out.” Her hands were balled into fists, her arms straight by her sides. Tension practically radiated from her shoulders, which were growing stiffer under my hands as she spoke.

“It’s fine. They’ll get us out soon. Like the guy said, this happens all the time.”

“Yeah, but maybe this time they won’t be able to get us out. There’s always a first time.” Her voice went up an octave and tremors ran through her body. She was panicking.

“Won’t ever happen.” She moved closer to me, as if needing comfort, and I put my arm around her again. “Look at me. Only at me.” I tilted her chin up, encouraging her gorgeous emerald eyes to meet mine.

She shivered once more, then took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said, her voice trembling. But she connected her gaze to mine, and stayed steady.

“Okay,” I echoed, then asked, “What’s your favorite Point Break song?”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Your favorite Point Break song. Which one is it?”

“Oh. Um… ‘Into Darkness.’ It reminds me of…” She trailed off, averting her gaze. Her breathing still was light and shallow.

I tipped her chin back up. “Of what?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ve known you all of two minutes and I can already tell it’s not ‘nothing.’”

She gave a wry smile and flicked her gaze back up to my face. “Of my family and our situation.”

I didn’t know what her family or their situation were, but if I could help her stay chill for the next twenty minutes, that was all I cared about. “All right…” I took a deep breath and found the lyrics in my mind. “Sometimes I see her, and sometimes I cry…” As I sang, Sara’s breathing calmed and her expression softened.

Sometimes my dreams won’t let me say goodbye…

Her lips moved in sync with mine as I sang the next verse. She was getting her own personal concert, something I’d never done for any groupie. But I felt more than okay doing it for her. I didn’t just want Sara to be less fearful right now. I wanted her to feel happy.

Happy she’d met me.

Suddenly, getting stuck in an elevator didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

Into darkness I fall, into darkness I aim, never knowing at all if I’ll ever see you again…

We sang together, a great melody written by my buddy, Liam, and smiled as we did. Sara stared deeply into my eyes.

“Wow. Your eyes really are gray,” she said when we came to the bridge in the song.

“They really are.” I opened my eyes wide for her.

“Damn, I owe my roommate ten bucks.” She laughed, another good sign she was feeling better. “I told Kass that if I could get close enough to you, I’d find out. Never thought I’d get stuck in an elevator and get this close.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.”

The tension between us resembled a taut rubber band. One bounce and we’d snap. Too bad the rescue people were on their way.

“Are they contacts?” she asked. She shifted, and her hips brushed mine.

“Nah, been this shade my entire life,” I said, squeezing her shoulders and brushing her hair back. Her body felt warm and so good in my arms.

“What else do they say about you that’s true?” She gave me a mischievous look.

My body reacted, wanting a deeper intimacy with her, and things got hard—real hard. “Depends what they say,” I replied, giving her a wink. She giggled, and I asked softly, “Feeling better?” God, I wanted this girl. Right here in the elevator would be great, too. Those lips and fuck-me green eyes…

She nodded and bit her lip. “Yeah. One time,” she continued, “when I was a kid, I got locked in my dad’s bathroom at the office. I couldn’t open the door and started screaming. He came and got me out, but people were staring and laughing at me afterward. I always feel stupid when I freak out like this.”

For a woman as gorgeous as her, she seemed lacking self-confidence. What had happened in her life to make her think she was stupid in any way? “You’re not stupid,” I said. “You’re gorgeous, sexy as hell, and—”

The elevator shook again. Sara stiffened, gripping my arms. On one hand, I wanted the service people to arrive already so Sara didn’t have to feel so miserable. But on the other hand, I enjoyed having her in my arms.

“…and I’m concerned for your welfare,” I finished. “Hey, you want to hear a song we’re just now working on? Brand-new, not yet released?”

She didn’t respond, and under my hands, I could feel her quivering. The pupils in her eyes had gone so wide I could barely make out the green.

“Tell you what,” I said, thinking quickly. “I’ll sing the song and we’ll slow dance. Like at middle school dances.” I took her stiff arms and draped them over my shoulders, then put my hands on her hips. She didn’t pull away.

I started singing again, a ballad Tucker had helped write for Nikki, his one true love, called “Parisian Love.” I shuffled us around in a circle, the way I recalled dancing back in school, and Sara followed, slowly relaxing and swaying to the rhythm of the song I sang. Even though the song wasn’t about Sara, for the moment it felt like it was, like we were floating down the Seine under the moonlight

The words flowed easily over my tongue as I sang to this girl I’d just met, a girl I felt in so many ways like I already knew. “I saw her standing by the Champs de Mars, staring at a sky full of stars…”

I didn’t know all the words, so I made them up as I went along. When I finished, Sara wasn’t shaking anymore. I came to a stop, and she rested her cheek on my shoulder.

“You all right?” I tilted my head to hers.

“Yeah.” Her head still rested on my shoulder. “That was amazing. So different from your other songs. I can’t believe you’re serenading me. Dancing with me. This is so surreal.”

I released her waist and brought my hands up to stroke her hair, taking in the details of her pale face. Maybe it was just the adrenaline running high from being stuck in the elevator, but I couldn’t resist any longer.

“Come here, Little Red.”

“As in, Little Red Riding Hood?” she asked, a smile toying at the corner of her mouth.

“A very grown-up version.” I wondered if she was as innocent as she seemed, or if she was out in the forest, looking for trouble. I slid my thumbs along her cheeks and she shuddered, her widening smile letting me know she welcomed my touch.

“This feels like a dream,” she said.

“For me, too.”

“This sort of thing doesn’t happen to everyone, does it?”

“Not like this.”

Kissing after a great show was a thing for me—sparked by the high energy I felt after every performance—but it was usually with Ben or some girl totally different from Sara. People who expected things from me, even if it was just a night of great sex. For some reason, this—now—felt like a first.

I thought I’d have to take it slow and gentle, but when I lowered my mouth to hers, Sara kissed me back with intense fervor, her tongue stroking my own at a frantic rate, and then it was no longer just stroking. It was a battle, our tongues dancing for dominance, mouths plundering one another. She raised her leg and wrapped it around my hips, and I leaned forward and ground against her.

Hardness into heat. I loved smelling her hair—was that strawberries, I smelled?—and tasting her lips, and I could’ve inhaled her aroma all night long.

“You’re amazing, you know that, Little Red?”

She giggled, then bit my lower lip before grazing those same teeth against the stubble on my jaw line. “If I’m Little Red, does that make you the Big Bad Wolf?” she murmured in my ear.

I let out a growl, low in the back of my throat, and nibbled her earlobe. “I gotta admit, I can’t seem to stop wanting to taste you.”

“Then don’t stop,” she said, huskiness in her voice.

At that moment, the speaker crackled. “Are you still in there?”

Annoyed, I pulled back and responded with, “Still here.”

“Fire department’s running a little late, but help is on its way. Another ten minutes, tops.”

“No worries, man.” The call went dead again, and I turned back to Sara. “Did you ever play Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

She giggled. “No, but I always wanted to,” she said.

Then she surprised the hell out of me by boldly slipping off her hoodie slash cape, her lips parting in an invitation.

My mouth came down on hers again and I held her close, kissing her, feeling her firm, round tits crushed against my chest. She kissed me back, equally intense. We couldn’t get enough of each other. We were a kissing, licking, panting mess of pure lust. If I could’ve snapped my fingers and gotten us both naked in seconds, I would have.

Luckily, Sara was on the same train of thought with no stopping at the station. Pulling back, she gripped the hem of her T-shirt and tugged it out of the waistband of her mini-skirt. My already-hard cock just about turned to stone.

“We’d better hurry,” she said.

So much for claustrophobia.

Her body was making the calls, and I knew that feeling of urgency all too well. “Anything you say, sweetheart.”

She ripped off her T-shirt. Beneath was a white lace bra that made me lick my lips in anticipation. Smirking at me like the saucy minx she was turning out to be, Sara reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.

“I’m good with this, just so you know, but are you sure?” I asked.

She smiled. “I’ve never had anyone sing to me before. I…it touched something deep inside me, and I know this is crazy, that we just met, but yes, I’m sure.”

Her boobs spilled out.

She said other things, but I couldn’t focus on them.

All I knew was that she was gorgeous, with milky white breasts that begged for my mouth, and that she was torturing me with those eyes and lips of hers. Leaning low, I brought my mouth to the pert mounds. My tongue traced a delicate pattern over the dusky rose of her right nipple. I relished the way it hardened and pebbled under my tongue. I opened my mouth wide and suckled all of it into my mouth. I loved laving at it, feeling my tongue flick over her raised peak.

Then I did the same to the other one.

The elevator trembled again, and I sucked her tit harder to make her forget about it.

Sara bucked and moaned. I took that as encouragement to let my hands roam lower until I could grab the curves of her ass. There was something about the delectable thickness of her hips that drove me wild and made my cock twitch and strain against my jeans zipper.

She kissed my cheek, and I worried the stubble I hadn’t shaved in days would scrape her soft lips.

“How many minutes do we have left?” she whispered in my ear.

I didn’t want to respond. Instead, I thrust my hips against hers, excited by her sudden gasp.

“Seriously, Wes, we should probably stop. They’re going to arrive soon.”

I pulled away far enough to look in her eyes. If she wanted me to stop, then we’d stop. “Whatever you want, Sara.”

“I mean, I don’t want to—hell, I took my top off for you…” She bit her lip. “What do you think? Do we have three minutes left?” She gave me a naughty smile and tugged my head back down to her breasts, and again I suckled at her tits, squeezing them together. Her fingers gripped my hair and she moaned.

“Two minutes, thirty seconds,” I said between licking her nipples.

“Oh, that’s so good,” she moaned. “But what if people find us like this?”

“We—” I began, pulling away, but she used her other hand to pull my hips into her. Talk about mixed messages. Unable to resist, I suckled at her nipple again, running my tongue over her in semi-circular motions. Her panting urged me on more and more, making my dick so hard I was crazy with lust. At the same time, I remembered how reserved she’d seemed when we first met. This had all begun because she was scared. I didn’t want to take advantage of that, or risk her being embarrassed if someone discovered us, so when she lowered her hand to feel between my legs, I somehow mustered enough self-control to stop her.

“Time’s up?” she asked, panting.

Taking her hand, I pulled it up, kissed it, and pressed it against my chest. “Yeah. Time’s up. I want you, and I want like hell to keep kissing you, but you should probably get dressed.”

For a second, she blinked as if she was having trouble understanding me, then without another word, she slowly sank to her knees. My cock twitched as I imagined her preparing to give me a blowjob, but she was only picking up her bra and her shirt. After standing, she stood back up and slipped the bra back on, then covered those gorgeous breasts with her tee. When she was finished, we immediately started kissing again.

I wanted more. As soon as we were out of this elevator, I was going home with her for the night—assuming she wanted the same thing. Or maybe we’d go back to my place. I had to know more about her mouth, what my cock would feel like inside of it, and how she’d feel up against a bed as I fucked her from behind. My hands strayed over her body, reaching down to feel the soft flesh of her thighs.

Suddenly, a loud screech sounded out, and Sara let out a small cry and clung to me. Then the elevator rose a few inches.

I patted her back. “It’s okay—that’s the good guys out there. You’re safe.”

Her fingers dug into my arm when the elevator suddenly dropped a few inches. I glanced at her and once again, her pupils were wide—from fear, not arousal, this time. The elevator rose again, continuing its upward motion until it stopped with a jolt.

Suddenly the door opened, and as Sarah clung to me, we saw a whole group of people standing in front of the elevator.

Staring at us.

Firefighters stood in front of a small crowd of fans. Behind them, Liam held up his phone and pointed at it. “Tried calling you, bro.”

A couple of people snickered and Sara stepped a good two feet away. Her hair was tousled, so I reached out and brushed it back from her face. She stared at the crowd with a freaked out expression on her face.

The elevator hadn’t quite cleared the third floor, so we couldn’t yet leave. Instead, we were like zoo animals, with a whole crowd staring at us.

“Hey, don’t worry about the attention,” I said, trying to reassure her. After all, it’s not like we’d been caught naked or anything. In fact, Sara had been able to get dressed in time, so we were ahead of the game. Still, she seemed mortified, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide. She noticed her cape on the ground and scooped it up, flinging it over her shoulders and placing the hood on her head, covering up most of her gorgeous face. She drew into herself and wrapped her arms around her body. The elevator continued climbing, slowly.

“Thanks, guys,” I said to the two firemen who held the doors open.

Several people applauded when the elevator car finally stopped, even with the floor.

When one of the firefighters reached out his hand, I stepped back and touched Sara’s shoulders. “You go first. It’s okay.”

She stepped forward into the crowd. I was about to do the same when a sudden flash from a camera blinded me for a moment. When I opened my eyes, it was to see Sara pushing through the crowd, already well ahead of me.

“Sara.” When she didn’t turn at the sound of her name, I tried again, louder. This time she did turn. She didn’t say anything, but I could see tears ready to fall from her eyes. Concern swept through me. Was she remembering when she’d been rescued from her father’s bathroom, and how embarrassed she’d been? Did she feel even worse now?

I thought we’d step out of the elevator, talk to the fans, take a few photos, and then go finish what we started somewhere else. Now I just wanted to comfort her.

But Sara turned and pushed her way through the crowd. I could no longer see her.

“Sara!” I called, stepping forward to go get her. The crowd pressed around me, groupies with pens and CDs of Point Break’s latest release in their hands, all eager for my signature, my attention. All blocking me from what I wanted.

Dutifully, I scrawled my name on the CDs and a couple of T-shirts, then with an apologetic smile, shouldered my way past the crowd until I could see down the long hallway.

There was Sara, rushing away.

Something very real had happened between us in that elevator. I couldn’t let her go.  If Sara disappeared into the night like Cinderella, I’d never see her again. I couldn’t let that happen. That was the wrong fucking fairy tale.

“Hey! Little Red!” I called as she hit the end of the hallway.

Turning the corner, she stopped long enough to give me a look full of emotion, then lifted a hand before disappearing completely.

What the fuck?

More fans had poured into the service hallway and the crowd reformed, closing back in on me and Liam. I pushed against the crowd but was trapped.

Someone touched my shoulder, and I wanted to turn around and slug them for no good reason except I was panicking. A fireman shoved a cell phone in my hand. “Sir, don’t forget this. Found it on the floor in the elevator.”

I was about to say it wasn’t mine. Mine was in my pocket. But that meant the phone could only belong to one other person.

I jabbed the home button. My panic eased when I saw she didn’t have a passcode activated. With her phone, I’d be able to find a way to talk to her again. See her again. Ask her why the hell she’d run. Get her to go out with me and see where this night of magic could lead us.

All is not lost, Wes.

She might be Little Red Riding Hood, truly trying to escape the Big Bad Wolf, but I wasn’t about to let that happen.

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