The Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances Series, books 1-5 Read online

  She had written that song for me, for us, a plaintive last plea that I had ignored. I sucked in a ragged breath. Hearing it was like a knife through my heart. But I didn’t have one. Not anymore. Not since she had left me.

  The inside of my hollow chest burned as I was crushed by the weight of those memories.

  That first time I had seen her on the beach. So young. So shy. So incredibly beautiful.

  That first time she had looked at me with more than just adoration in her striking, lit from within honey hued eyes. That perfect kiss which had followed.

  And then there was that last time. That night I lost her. That night her life affirming love turned to scorn. That night the light had gone out of my life.

  I never should have come back.

  I should have let the lawyers handle it.

  But I couldn’t stay away.

  Not anymore.

  Not when I finally had a legitimate reason to see her.

  Not knowing everything I knew now.

  She started to sing again. This time it was a tune I didn’t recognize but I knew it must be an original. Her song crafting structure was more complicated now than it had been back then, but it was still poetically lyrical as rhythmic, bluesy and beautiful as she was.

  She swayed side to side behind the mic pole. A sexy temptress, her dress a seduction that concealed more than it revealed, and me in my world of denial wanting to believe that I was still the only man in the room who knew all that lay beneath it.

  Graceful. Sensual. The initial stiffness only I had probably noticed when she first took the stage was completely gone. No woman moved the way she did. No woman felt the way she did like warm satin beneath my fingertips. No woman so reminded me of the ocean at dawn wild and free and full of possibilities. No woman’s scent was as sweet, like a crisp California breeze. No woman made love to me as if savoring every single stroke and caress.

  No woman came close, other women only temporarily satisfied a physical need, nothing more. No one had ever met my spiritual needs the way she once had.

  I watched her effortlessly drift through two more tunes as the club grew more and more crowded, the bodies packed together on the dance floor slowly shuffling to the sultry beat. The next round of applause included a thinly veiled sexual proposition from some guy in the crowd. My fingers curled tighter around the O’Doul’s bottle that had grown warm in my hand. I was too busy slaking years of unquenchable thirst on the vision of her to bother with any cheap non-alcoholic substitute.

  Simone lifted a bottled water to her perfect lips, her honeyed gaze straying back in my direction. She might as well have palmed me through my jeans.

  I pulled my ball cap lower over my fevered eyes and shifted, trying to adjust myself without being obvious like some hormonal teenager.

  “Last number before I take a break.” She poured the words into the mic, her voice as rich and nuanced as the expensive bourbon I had been fond of in the past. The news of her imminent departure sent a rustle of disappointment through the mostly male crowd.

  “Any requests?” she asked curling her lips into a ghost of a smile. It wasn’t the smile that used to turn my world upside down but it was a seductive one nonetheless, and it engendered a few more ribald remarks.

  She ignored their innuendos cocking her head to the side, a long tendril of light caramel curling around her right breast. My fingers flexed remembering the way she used to arch those luscious tits of hers into my worshiping hands.

  “’Last Night of the World’.” My voice was huskier than usual because of the direction of my thoughts and because of the memory that accompanied that particular tune.

  Her head snapped my way, her skin paling as the blood seemed to drain completely away from her pretty face. I tipped the brim of my cap back and leaned forward into the light. Her gaze locked on mine. Her hand went to her throat.

  “Linc.”

  I was sorry I had startled her but it was worth it just to hear my name flowing over her lips in a breathless whisper the way it once had so easily so long ago.

  Chapter Two

  * * *

  Simone

  Every single muscle every fiber of my being froze focused on the man who once had been the sun in my personal universe.

  Linc was as handsome as he had ever been and any subtle differences I could make out only added to his allure. Not that I would ever admit it aloud. Leather jacket over a faded t-shirt. Worn jeans. Tall lean physique. Not the type of guy who spent every waking moment pressing weights, but definitely in shape and completely at ease within a body he knew how to move in the most pleasurable ways possible.

  His hair color defied simple explanation. It was mostly the color of the wet sand along the shore and longer than it had been in the latest round of online photos. Waves of thick uneven layers curled into his ears and above them the ends flipped up around his collar. I recalled lying beside him late at night sifting my fingers through those layers and tracing those golden highlights.

  I sighed without meaning to and my bereft fingers flexed around the mic.

  I noticed how tan he was and how his eyes were the same as I remembered, a crystal blue like the ocean past the breaking waves. Laugh lines around them and his irresistible lips seemed to be permanent rather than temporary now. I imagined he had regained his sense of humor after all of the years and years of success. Even though he had deeply hurt me I had always wanted to believe he was happy in the life he had chosen. I needed to believe one of us had repurposed the pain and moved beyond it.

  Seeming to mistake my lingering perusal as an invitation, Linc smiled slowly, laugh lines deepening to bracket the mouth that used to curl my toes with devastating kisses. The multicolored club lights flashed their reflection in his eyes as he moved toward me. His lazy rolling stride that reminded me of the ocean he had once tamed on his board had only a slight barely noticeable hitch now.

  When he reached the center of the dance floor, the murmurings started to rise becoming a chant as more than a few in the similarly aged crowd recognized him. But I couldn’t let him get any closer.

  “Hey, all you Tiki bar barflies.” Eyes still linked to his, terrified by how little willpower I had to resist him, I leaned forward into the mic forcing my lips into a smile. “I’m sure by now you’ve noticed we have a celebrity in our midst. Help me welcome to the stage, the lead singer of the Dirt Dogs, OB’s own. Mr. Lincoln Savage.”

  Clapping along with everyone else I stepped backward planning my escape. Linc’s eyes narrowed as the crowd surrounded him, a surge of energy propelling him toward the stage accompanied by pleas to perform.

  As he advanced, I retreated. One step, then two, my legs were as shaky now as they had been when I had first taken the stage. When he hit the stairs to come up, I hit the shadows whirling around on my heels nearly falling as I fled down the dark hall behind the platform.

  I was grateful that everyone was busy fawning over him rather than gawking at me in my obvious panic. My hands trembled as I twisted the knob to the storage closet that also served as my dressing room. Once safely inside, I kicked off the high heels, stripped off the dress and hastily returned it to my hanging bag. Hopping around on the cold concrete floor on my bare feet, I shimmied into my jeans, threw on a top and stepped into a pair of flip flops. The whole process took less than two minutes. I had never changed so fast in my entire life.

  Heart beating frantically in my chest, I popped open the door and peeked out into the hall exhaling with relief that it was deserted except for the club’s bouncer.

  “Early night, Miss Bianchi?” he asked from his position beside the entrance to the stage.

  “Yeah, Paul.” I cocked my head to the side, mind blanking as I heard Linc’s voice. The song was old yet familiar. One birthed when I had still been a part of his life. I remembered it all. The rooftop club debut. The vintage van parked outside. All four band members and me all together in one motel room to save money. Ramon playing a complicated chord progressi
on to warm up and then Linc adding in the words to transform the exercise into a song that would become both transcendent and timeless.

  That was the final cut of the evening. I couldn’t take any more. My knees went wonky beneath me. I grabbed the cool cinderblock wall for balance as the world seemed to tilt on its axis just as violently as it had back when I had first heard Linc crooning into a mic. Decadent. Dreamy. Breathy and utterly divine. Those same husky tones he used when making love to me. And seeing him and hearing him again after all this time was devastating to me because I had to face the fact that I still wasn’t over him.

  Tears burning behind my eyes, a sharp sob lodging in my throat that I was unable to speak around, I just shook my head at Paul and flew past him. Blasting out the backstage door and dashing through the alley I nearly dropped my hanging bag and purse several times in my zeal to escape, until I finally reached the brightly lit street lined with palm trees and crossed it to the club’s parking lot on the other side.

  My keys rattled in my shaking hand as I tried to locate the right one to open my car door. The key ring slipped out of my sweaty hand forcing me to kneel down on the asphalt in order to fish them out from beneath the undercarriage.

  Standing again I made a mental note to skip the designer dresses for a couple of months so I could afford to get the power locks fixed on my aging Accord.

  “Mona!”

  “Shit,” I exclaimed hand to my throat, spinning around, my wide eyed panicked gaze colliding with his. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Yeah?” A dark brown brow shot up and disappeared beneath his tumbled hair. “Serves you right for taking off on me like that. What did you expect?”

  I straightened to my unimpressive full height. Five foot six to his six one. “Lurking in the shadows. Showing up without warning. How do you figure I’ve wronged you?”

  Linc ran a hand through his hair while his gaze continued to travel the length of me making me feel stripped, naked and vulnerable. His perusal had always been intense. I resisted the urge to cross my arms to cover my breasts. The way my body still reacted to his gaze as if it were a physical caress was ridiculous.

  “What do you want, Lincoln? Why did you come here? Why show up again after all this time?” I tossed my hair over my shoulder affecting nonchalance I did not at all feel.

  His eyes were dark the way they’d used to be with desire when they lifted to meet mine. A trick of the light? He took a step toward me his expression entranced almost as if he didn’t even consciously realize what he was doing. My rear hit the car door as I backed away. I had nowhere to go. But I couldn’t let him touch me. I couldn’t. He would know the power he still had over me. I lifted my chin.

  “I don’t know.” His voice was low the words strained as if they had been hard for him to speak, making me believe they might actually be the truth. We had learned similar lessons in our childhoods that made it hard for either of us to share our truest feelings.

  “I’m sure you have some idea.” I arched a brow. “It’s been years, Lincoln.” His eyes narrowed. When I addressed him by his full name it usually meant I was angry. “How did you know where to find me?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Ash told me.” I dropped my gaze. Ashland Keys. His cousin. The drummer of the Dirt Dogs. My friend and sometimes confidant. At one time almost something more.

  Silence stretched uncomfortably between us. I could feel the weight of his stare on my bowed head. I was just about to tell him off and lifted my eyes to do so when I thought I saw something. Deep within his mesmerizing gaze. Something important. Something significant. Something I couldn’t afford to believe anymore. Just a glimmer but it was gone so quickly I convinced myself I had only imagined it.

  Another trick of the light.

  What we had was over a long time ago.

  Always a lie or a truth that had become a lie as other things had grown more important to him.

  Guys like Lincoln Savage weren’t for women like me. An equal. A former flame with expectations beyond just the night.

  Guys like him wanted young temporary little things who were dazzled by their fame, didn’t expect them to be sober and didn’t protest when they woke up alone in the morning.

  Chapter Three

  * * *

  Linc

  “What do you want, Lincoln?” Her question echoed in my brain.

  What I really wanted would send her running faster than she’d sprinted from out of the bar moments ago. The awareness, the attraction, the need, it was the same as it had always been between us. I wanted her. I wanted to dial back time to before I screwed everything up. I wanted her naked, her perfect rose tipped tits bouncing as I pounded into her so deep and so good she would never consider another. I wanted to taste her cherry flavored lips. I wanted her hair wrapped around my fist so she could never leave me again. I wanted…

  “Well Ash should have kept quiet.” She licked her lush lips and my mind went off on another tangent. Difficulty focusing was always a problem around her. “My business is none of yours anymore. You should have called first. I would have told you that I wasn’t interested. That we’d said everything there was to say already a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, Linc. I wish you well, but I wish it for you well away from me.”

  She gave me her back fumbling again with her keys while I stared at her gut churning, hurt by her words and the memories. Frustrated by her reaction to me when I still wanted her so badly. Mad at myself for daring to hope that our reunion might have played out differently.

  “Alright, Mona.” My tone was terse. Her spine snapped straight. “Have it your way.”

  “Don’t call me that anymore.” She whirled around so fast her hair slapped her face. “It’s just Simone now.”

  “Ash still calls you that.” I frowned. I had overheard him on the phone to her periodically over the years on holidays or special occasions. Less since the funeral but every single time I caught their conversations I wished I hadn’t. The memories were just too bitter. It always sent me into a shit spiral of self-pity.

  “That’s different.” Her eyes flashed honeyed fire. “He’s a friend.”

  “Dammit, Mona.” I leaned in closer inhaling her sweet scent and nearly brought to my knees with desire. I wanted to have her. Right here. Right now. I had to curl my fingers into fists to keep from reaching out, grabbing her and reminding her how it used to be between us. Her lids lowered and her breathing turned ragged. Was she remembering, too, or trying to forget?

  “Go away, Linc.” Apparently the latter.

  “Maybe I can’t,” I admitted my voice raspy with stripped down need. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

  “Don’t.” She closed her eyes and her chin dropped. “Don’t do this to me.” She wet her lips. They visibly trembled. Even though I knew I had upset her I still wanted to kiss them. “I’m not one of your groupies easily flattered by your bullshit. The fact that you’re a big rock star doesn’t impress me. I know who you really are Lincoln Savage. I’ve seen you at your best and I’ve survived you at your worst. So don’t think you can come here and play games with me.” Her chin came up and her eyes blazed anew.

  She was so beautiful when angry. I wasn’t playing games, not really, but it was obvious she wouldn’t believe me. Wouldn’t believe the truth if I had been brave enough to verbalize it in that moment. So I fell back on the pretense, my excuse for being here tonight.

  “They want to use ‘Save Me’ in the new Donavon Blaine film.” I finger raked my hair out of my eyes. “You sang it beautifully tonight by the way.”

  She shrugged always so quick to dismiss her talent.

  “I could produce it and split the royalties with you fifty-fifty.”

  “You can take it. It’s only really half mine anyway.” Her expression was hard. “But take all of it.” I felt the words she didn’t speak…the way you took everything from me. “I don’t want any part of it. I especially don’t want or need anything from you. I don’t need
the aggravation.”

  “It has the potential to make a lot of money, Mona.” My words were clipped, my tone terse. “The Blaine franchise is huge. He’s America’s James Bond, for God’s sake. And their offer is very generous. It’ll generate residual income for both of us for years to come.”

  “Be that as it may. I still don’t want anything to do with it.” She shook her head fiercely the sun lightened tips of her hair brushing the top of her tits that looked fantastic in her pink Roxy tee, but would look even better out of it. “Do you need me to sign something?” Her voice rose. She seemed panicky about the whole situation. “I’ll sign it to over to you right now. I have a pen and paper in the car.”

  I got angry. I knew she was really rejecting me, not the money. My next words came unfettered and unkind. “Yeah I guessed you’d react this way.” Stubborn. Proud. Beautiful. Why did I think she would ever give me the chance to be the hero again when she had already recast me as the villain? “Once a sheltered rich girl, always one. What’s a couple of hundred thousand to you anyway? Right?”

  “Not a girl anymore.” She turned her head. “Far from sheltered. Certainly not rich.” She muttered something additional under her breath but I didn’t catch it with the noise of the traffic behind us and her face turned away. She got the door unlocked and I stepped back as she swung it open. My thoughts scattered as she bent over and I recalled another time when she’d been in that position for me. I squeezed my eyes shut but it was too late. Blood rushed south so fast I got light headed.

  “Here.” She snapped something in front of me. “Take it.” I opened my eyes taking the paper she thrust at me my fingers brushing hers in the process. Close proximity to her and my imagination were making things difficult, like trying to get a fix on a wave set on an uncharted beach. Touching her reawakened my body and my soul. The latter had been dormant for years.