Hard Rock Fling: A Rock Star Romance Page 6

  He was a rock star, after all. I knew what that meant. If I was going to let Ian flirt with me, if I was going to let him do… other things with me, I had to accept Ian had a past, the same as anyone else. His was simply more colorful than most.

  "It's pretty crowded here. C'mon."

  Letting go of my hips, Ian draped an arm around my shoulders to guide me through the crowd. I didn't know where he was taking me. I honestly didn't care.

  With the touch of his black-lacquered fingertips burning into the bare skin of my collarbone, I would have let him lead me straight into hell.

  Chapter Ten

  As Ian led me through the mansion, I began to get nervous, wondering if maybe he was taking me to a bedroom where we could be alone. Rock stars probably moved fast. Instead, to my relief, he took me to a kitchen. There were fewer people there. A handful of waitstaff were putting together trays of finger food, and a few groups of twos and threes were pouring each other drinks before leaving to rejoin the party. Less than a dozen people. Compared to the rest of the party we were practically alone.

  The kitchen was spacious, full of shiny chrome appliances and a marble-topped island table. Just as fancy as the rest of the place.

  "Rock stars must make a lot of money."

  Dammit. I hadn't meant to say that out loud.

  Ian chuckled, not taking offense.

  "Cam didn't buy the place. It's his parent's. He's the only one who lives here now, though."

  "So Cameron is basically a teenager who throws parties while his parents are away."

  "You called it."

  "I can't imagine living in this place all by myself. It's so huge. I'd get lonely."

  "You live with your sister, right?"

  "Yes. Do you live with Damon?"

  Ian laughed incredulously. "Hell no. You think I want to walk in on him with a different girl every night? No thank you." Ian grabbed a few bottles and a plastic cup. "C'mon, let's get you a drink."

  I watched as he put together a concoction, keeping track of the labels, trying to figure out what I would end up with. I didn't recognize most of the brands.

  "Here you go." He presented the cup with a flourish.

  I took it from his hand and sniffed. "Smells sweet."

  "Try it," he urged.

  I took a small sip. "It's delicious. It can't taste the alcohol."

  "There isn't any."

  I paused in the middle of taking another drink, staring at him over the rim. "How young do you think I am?"

  "It's got nothing to do with your age." He stepped closer. I took a few steps back unconsciously. I bumped into the island counter. He didn't stop, just continued crowding me until our bodies pressed together. One of his knees nudged between my legs. My fingers gripped tightly around the cup, my toes curling inside my high heels.

  "Are you worried about corrupting a minor?" Even as I spoke the words, I heard my own shallow breathing, the shakiness in my voice. My breasts touched his chest with every inhalation. "I'm of legal drinking age, you know."

  "I don't want you under the influence." He placed both hands on the countertop, one on either side of me. I was trapped. The look he gave me was wicked, hungry. "You're going to remember everything that happens tonight." He leaned forward until our noses were touching. He tilted his head, as if angling for a kiss. "Everything."

  My breath hitched. Half an inch closer and—

  Ian pulled away. I nearly sagged to the floor. My heartbeat raced madly as I remembered how to breathe.

  "You should finish your drink." Ian smirked. "You'll need your energy for later."

  I'd been right about rock stars and their smooth moves. I took a long, silent breath to gather myself.

  "You think you can feed me a line and I'll fall into bed with you?" I was proud I kept my voice steady. I wasn't going to let him shake me.

  Ian threw back his head and laughed. "Apparently not." He took my hand and pressed a kiss to the back. "Does the princess need more wooing from her prince?"

  "Prince? I was thinking more of the evil huntsman."

  His lips twitched. "You think I'm planning to cut out your heart?"

  "Isn't that what you do? Make all the girls fall in love with you then crush their hopes and dreams?"

  He gave a casual shrug, but the corner of his lips turned down slightly. "That's more my brother's thing."

  "I've heard the rumors, you know." I met his eyes and held them. "They say Damian plays with women the way a cat plays with the mouse. Is that what you're planning on doing with me?"

  I expected him to retort with a joke about eating me, but he pulled back.

  "Right. Damian." He fidgeted with the leather wrist cuff on left arm. He played with the decorative silver buckles until the nail polish on his right hand came off in chips. "I'm sure you've heard a lot about The Twins."

  "I'm sorry." I was beginning to get this was a touchy subject. "I didn't mean—"

  "No, it's fine," he interrupted. "I'm just being—" he cut himself off with a wry grin. "Never mind. Let's go back to the party. I'll introduce you to some cool people."

  I chided myself for touching on a sore spot, but I wanted to know. Sometimes, with the way he looked at me, I wondered if maybe Ian felt something more than passing lust. But I knew that was exactly what every other girl Ian had gotten into bed probably thought about themselves.

  Besides, it didn't matter. If his interest was fleeting, it was all the better. No risk of getting attached.

  I allowed Ian to drag me around the party. I thought his cool people would be an endless parade of movie stars, musicians, and other celebrities. To my surprise, Ian took me around to meet sound engineers, publicity coordinators, and other behind the scenes people. They all gave him high fives and slaps on the back.

  He was genuinely friendly with these people. Maybe I had been wrong. Ian did pay attention to all the little cogs in his entertainment machine. Maybe that's why a lowly intern wasn't too far beneath his notice.

  "They all like you," I said as we moved from group to group.

  "I'm a likable guy."

  "No, but—" I wanted to put it the right way. "I didn't expect you to introduce me to ordinary people. I thought you'd be hanging around your famous friends. You're not…"

  "Not a stuck up asshole celebrity?"

  "I was going to say, untouchable."

  Ian let out a chuckle. "You sure that's the word you want to use around me?" he murmured in my ear.

  My heart fluttered again. I hadn't had a steady heartbeat since stepping out of that taxi.

  "Yo, Damian, stop monopolizing the fresh meat." Cameron came up from behind and threw his arms around us, sticking his head between ours. He still had three bras hanging around his neck. "Is this asshole annoying you?" he asked me.

  "You're the only annoying one around here, Cam." Ian retorted.

  "Fuck off." Cameron's grin was still firmly in place. He grabbed my cup and downed the rest of it. "Your girl needs another drink." He gave Ian a pointed stare.

  "Is that your subtle way of telling me to get lost?"

  "Nothing subtle about it. Get lost."

  Ian shook his head, but removed his arm from around my waist. "I'll be right back."

  "No, wait—!" My eyes practically begged, don't leave me alone with him!

  Ian tossed me a wave. "He's gonna get you sooner or later. Might as well be sooner."

  I looked on in dismay as Ian retreated.

  "Sooo," Cameron drawled out the word, getting in my face. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Ms. Image Consultant."

  His expression was like a shark scenting blood. He wore his usual dark denim jeans low on his hips and a white t-shirt so tight and thin it was barely there. Thick silver chains hung from Cameron's belt, matching the chains on his wrists. Thick black eyeliner rimmed his eyes. Bright red hair framed his face. He looked like the devil himself.

  "Um. Yes?" I tried to hide my nervousness.

  "You and Damian fucking?"


  My eyes bugged out as I let out a violent series of coughs. He slapped me on the back with enough force to send me toppling over.

  "We, we're just—" I stammered once I could breathe.

  "Not yet, hmm?" Cameron gave me a smug tilt of his chin. "Too bad Damian called dibs on you. Otherwise…" he tilted my face up with a finger on my chin. "You'd already be flat on your back screaming my name."

  "I don't think I would, actually."

  "No?" He twisted his fingers in my hair and tugged until our lips were nearly touching. "You sure about that?"

  I let out a small whimper.

  "Just fucking with you." He laughed, releasing me. "You don't have to worry about me."

  "Why? Because Damian called dibs?"

  "That's part of it."

  "What am I, a piece of candy?"

  "Nah." Cameron grinned. "As much as I like to flirt, I only fuck groupies, not colleagues."

  "Colleague?" I snorted. "I'm an intern."

  Cameron patted me on the back again. "Don't sell yourself short."

  "I'm an intern," I repeated. "I'm not even getting paid."

  "August didn't tell you the important details of the job, did he?"

  "Like what?"

  "Like your salary."

  When Cameron told me, my brain nearly short circuited.

  "Oh," I said weakly.

  "It's temporary for now, until our album is released. But who knows. If August and Naomi like your work, they might ask you to stay on."

  "But why me? There are hundreds of people who would kill for a job like this."

  "Not everyone can do what you do."

  "I didn't do anything special. I came up with that idea on a coffee break."

  "And maybe that's why August hired you. If that's the kind of stuff you come up with on a whim, what kind of stuff can you do when you've got a whole team behind you?"

  "No pressure, though, right?" I muttered.

  "You kidding?" Cameron shook his head. "Tons of pressure. This album is August's baby. You better not fuck it up." He laughed at the terror on my face. "Don't worry. We'll all be there to help you. Damian especially."

  Cameron nudged my shoulder. Damon appeared with two plastic cups in his hands.

  "Here you go, sweetness."

  Damon wore the same jeans and t-shirt as his brother, his hair equally messy-but-hot. His black-tipped nails weren't chipped, but that was the only difference. From this distance, his eyes were strikingly green, no hint of the dark blue I'd seen close up.

  "Thanks." I took the cup, wondering where Ian was.

  Damon got up close, putting an arm around my waist. I pushed at him and took a few steps closer to Cameron. As if he could protect me. That was as likely as a wolf protecting a flock of sheep.

  "Still playing hard to get?" Damon narrowed his eyes at me with a teasing smirk.

  He was no doubt trying to make me think he was his brother. Did Damon not know Ian and I had already kissed? I hadn't been playing hard to get at all. Maybe they didn't share everything. Maybe Damon was trying to get into my pants before his brother did.

  I took my first sip of the drink to hide my unease when Cameron spoke.

  "Your girl and I were having a nice discussion about fucking."

  I inhaled my drink down the wrong pipe and sputtered. It was half because of Cameron's words, but half because the drink was strong enough to peel paint. My tastebuds has been seared off. "What is this?"

  "My own concoction," Damon replied.

  I handed him back the cup. "Sorry. I much prefer the drink Ian made me."

  Both men looked startled. Cameron's eyes darted between me and Damon.

  "This is better than the first drink I made you," Damon said, recovering smoothly.

  "Ian's drink tasted sweet. This one tastes like jet fuel. Speaking of," I glanced around the room, "where's your better half?"

  Cameron was still looking between the two of us, curiosity evident, but Damon's face turned disgruntled.

  "He's on his way," Damon muttered, taking a swig from the cup I'd handed back to him without flinching.

  Sure enough, within seconds Ian strolled up from behind me. He slung his arm over my shoulder in a casual gesture. The trail of his fingers along my arm and neck was anything but. He pressed a new drink into my hand.

  "Have you been properly traumatized?" Ian asked. "Ignore everything Cam tells you. He's a filthy liar."

  "Including Damian calling dibs on me?"

  Ian stiffened. I hadn't meant to say it out loud. Maybe one sip of jet fuel had been enough to loosen my tongue. Ian seemed to forced himself to relax, but I felt the tension in his arms.

  "What can I say? I'm known for being possessive." His kept his tone light and airy.

  Damon sidled up to my other side and curled his arm around my waist again. "Of course, I'm much more possessive than my brother. What do you say the two of us somewhere a little less crowded? Get to know each other?"

  A brief flash of irritation crossed Ian's face, before it smoothed out. Damon was really getting into it, trying to make me think he was Ian, trying to confuse me. Trying to trip me up.

  It wasn't going to work. I knew which one was my Ian.

  My Ian.

  A jolt of panic went through me.

  This was getting dangerous.

  I shouldn't be thinking like that. He wasn't my anything. He was just flirting with me. He was just having fun.

  I swallowed hard.

  "Actually," I ducked out from under both their arms. "I think I need to go to the ladies room. Cameron?"

  "There are two on every floor," he said, still bemused. "Head down that hall. Second door from the end."

  I made my escape before Ian or Damon could protest, sprinting off.

  Once in the washroom, I stood in front of the mirror, gripping the sink with both hands.

  Was I really going to go through with this?

  I wasn't a one night stand sort of person. I was only thinking about making an exception for Ian because, well, it felt like I knew him. I'd been watching him and he'd taken notice of me. We'd talked, we'd kissed.

  With Ian, maybe there could be something more.

  I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

  What was I thinking? He was a rock star. I was an intern. He was flirting with me the way he flirted with all of his groupies. He was interested now but that didn't mean he would stay interested.

  I was fine with that. Really. I liked Ian. It felt like we had a connection. But I wasn't going to kid myself into thinking there could ever be anything more. I just needed to get this out of my system.

  Besides. I didn't want anything more.

  More led to complications. More led to heartbreak.

  And I'd had enough of that already.

  Chapter Eleven

  I finished drying my face with a fluffy white towel and opened the door. Ian and Damon ambushed me the second I stepped out of the ladies room. I flailed, nearly shutting the door in their faces. Ian caught it by the handle and yanked it open.

  "No hiding in the washroom."

  "I'm not hiding."

  The soft, patient look in those green eyes nearly made me melt to the floor.

  Goddamn, but I was in deep.

  "Why don't we get you another drink?" Ian suggested.

  "Not if Damon's making it," I shot back. He wasn't going to ply me with liquor and make me lower my guard.

  Ian laughed while Damon looked put out. "I'll make this one, I promise." He turned to Damon. "I think Stacey and Shannon were on the patio looking for us. Why don't you go entertain them?"

  Damon gave his brother a probing look. The two stared each other down, communicating without words. After a moment, Damon conceded.

  "Sure, I'll go handle Tracey and whoever."

  "Stacey and Shannon," Ian repeated.

  "Right." Damon gave me one last unreadable look before taking off.

  When Damon was out of sight, Ian draped an arm across my sh
oulder again. He gave me a possessive squeeze as he led me away.

  "Just for the record, I want you to know I'm not interested in Damian," I said.

  Ian quirked a smile, his chipped nails drawing absentminded circles around my collarbone. "No? Then what are you doing here?"

  I dug my heels into the floor, making him stop and look at me. "I'm interested in Ian."

  His lips parted slightly in surprise, seemingly at a loss for words. His eyes searched mine.

  "In case you thought I want to sleep with your brother," I continued. "Because I don't. I can tell the difference between the two of you. I don't want you thinking I'll take whichever one of you I can get."

  There was only one twin I wanted to sleep with.

  As if he'd heard my thoughts, Ian's expression changed. The softness in his eyes became heated. The arm around my shoulder pulled me in close, until we were nose to nose, like in the kitchen.

  "Cam says you practically choked when he asked if we were fucking."

  I fought back a blush. "I just told the truth."

  Ian tangled his fingers in my hair, pulling my head back. His eyes glinted with evil humor. "Maybe I should make a liar out of you." He leaned in, angling for a kiss.

  I ducked my head, avoiding his lips. "Cameron was asking about The Twins when he made that joke."

  Ian growled and tugged until our bodies pressed together. I felt every muscled line of his body through my thin dress. It was getting harder to think, but I needed to make something clear.

  "I don't know if there's some weird thing between you and your brother when it comes to girls and sex, but—"

  Ian brought his lips crashing down, silencing me with kiss. I whimpered into his mouth, letting his tongue play with mine.

  "I'm not letting my brother anywhere near you," he growled into my mouth. "You're mine."

  A shudder went through me at the possessiveness in his voice.

  It was a lie. I knew it was. No girl could ever truly belong to him. Ian had his fun and when he was done, he left a trail of broken hearts in his wake.

  But I was willing to go along with it, willing to pretend I'd fallen for his lies, as long as he never stopped kissing me.

  Ian pressed forward, backing me up until I was against the wall. He didn't let go of my lips once. One hand cradled my head, protecting it. The other touched the small of my back, urging our hips together. I felt the heat of him, already hardening, and let out a small moan into his mouth. Handfuls of drunk party goers passed us in the hallway. None of them paid attention to the rock star making out with a random girl.