ROCK F*CK CLUB (Girls Ranking the Rock Stars Book 6) Page 5

  “Probably.” He exhaled. “The only other place that feels as right is being inside you.”

  “Like there’s no other world outside us.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say it like that. It feels like that for me too, but coming from your sexy lips, it sounds cool, not nerdy.”

  “Oh, stop. You’re gonna make me cry, and I’m not that type of girl.”

  “I think you are. But you fight it, like you fought taking your rightful place onstage. You’re tough and tender. Strong and sweet.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” My brows drew together.

  “Because I know what I want for you, and where I want us to go. But I wonder if you’ve considered those things.”

  “I have. I want only the very best for you. I want to be with you wherever you go.” As long as I can be, I added silently. “I told you that when you asked me to go away with you.”

  “And marriage?” he asked. “Family? A future together?”

  I thought for a second, then gave him the answer I gave myself when I longed for those things. “Today, Gale. We have this moment. It’s completely ours to share. Each moment that’s mine to experience is also totally yours.”

  Josephine

  THAT EVENING, I ALMOST didn’t recognize myself as I stared at my reflection in the rustic bathroom mirror framed with driftwood. My eyes were the same deep sapphire. My hair was black, glossy, and long. My tits were perfectly round, though disappointingly small. However, Gale certainly appreciated them, along with the rest of me . . . damaged and all.

  That was the difference. He was the reason I looked different. Because of him, my eyes sparkled, my lips curved up, and my heart felt truly light for the first time.

  The day on the estate, except for the mention of things that would never be ours to have, had been a dream come true from sunrise to sunset.

  We had breakfast together, just fruit and cereal from the well-stocked minifridge. Then we’d returned to the dock, where I laid on a lounger, typing lyrics into my phone that Gale inspired, while he strummed a Taylor acoustic guitar that had rich tones almost worthy of accompanying his voice.

  From the food to the musical instruments, the staff had fulfilled all the lead singer’s requests to the letter. In the early afternoon, we went for a hike, taking a blanket and a basket of food, and ate sandwiches on a sandy bank by the water.

  Throughout the day, we hadn’t seen a single soul except for a team rowing in their sleek racing boat, gliding quickly on the far side of the lake. It felt like our own private paradise on the edge of the real world. An otherworldly world.

  All the orgasms Gale had given me simply added to the dreamlike feel.

  My smile reflecting my blissed-out state, I set the hairbrush on the marble counter and flicked off the switch on the blow dryer. As I did, I heard Gale’s voice in the other room. Curious, I padded out on bare feet and peeked around the door frame.

  The overhead door to the deck remained open. His brown hair damp from our second shower together, Gale lay on the bed wearing another pair of black boxers, his long muscular legs once again crossed at the ankles. One arm was tucked under the white pillow behind his head. No one was with him, but he held his cell to his ear.

  “No, Art. C’mon, not this shit now. I’m here with Jo. I finally have her all to myself, away from all that.”

  I couldn’t hear what Arthur said in response, but whatever it was made Gale’s dark brows slant lower. After a few more moments of intense listening, he nodded.

  “Okay. Put her on. I’ll talk to her.” Sitting up straighter, he moved his cell to his other ear. Seeing me, he held one finger in the air.

  Nodding to acknowledge his needed minute, I ducked back inside the bathroom to give him privacy. But in the mirror, my gaze was no longer blissful, and my heart pounded with dread.

  Who was she, and why did Gale want to talk to her alone?

  My lips pressed together, I leaned against the door frame just out of Gale’s view and listened.

  “I’m fine. How are you, Amanda?” His voice was low and soft.

  I loved when he used that intimate tone. Well, I loved when he used it with me. Now, though, my fingers curled into my palms, my bluntly trimmed nails sawing into my skin.

  “Yes, it’s been a while,” he said.

  There was a long pause, and I inched closer.

  “Thank you. The guys and I are glad to be back together as a group. Yes, we intend to get back into the studio at some point. But we don’t have any firm plans yet for another tour.”

  Puzzled by the conversation, I cocked my head.

  “I wish Art wouldn’t have told you that. It is a good song, but it’s not quite ready yet.”

  During another pause, a longer one, I peeked around the wood frame to see Gale had moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his long legs hanging off it.

  “Who’s your source for that?” He raked a hand through his hair. Whatever she said must have upset him. “Confidential source, my ass. Josephine’s season hasn’t even aired yet.”

  Was Amanda a reporter? Frowning, I thought hard. Could he be talking to Amanda Post from Boston Magazine? That publication had a big online following for their entertainment news.

  “Samuel Lesowski. Right. Him sharing that off the record with you is one of the many reasons Anthem is shopping for a new label . . . Yes, you can quote me on that . . . Yes, I was one of Josephine’s fucks on her season of the Rock Fuck Club. She is an extremely talented lyricist and vocalist. No, I didn’t know her before the tour, and no, I won’t elaborate any further at this time. There are a lot of contractual obligations with different parties entangling the two of us—World Media Organization, Lesowski Entertainment, Black Cat Records. Legal will have to go through everything before either I or Josephine or any of the involved parties do any more on-the-record talking.”

  My mind spun as Gale paused again.

  “Right. If I were you, I would be careful to stick to known, verifiable facts. You’ll avoid the hassle of retractions and potential lawsuits.” He nodded once, his hair gliding forward to cast shadows over his eyes. “It was good to speak to you as well. Can you put Art back on the line?”

  He lifted his head. This time when he saw me, he beckoned me closer. I breathed a little easier knowing Amanda wasn’t a former girlfriend.

  “Love this set of lingerie as much as the other one, babe,” he whispered. Pulling me back between his spread legs, he brushed some of my hair to my front and pressed his warm lips into the sensitive hollow he’d bared between my neck and shoulder.

  “They’re pajamas.” I stuck to that tired narrative, though my voice trembled from having his warm lips on my skin.

  “Whatever,” he said in a teasing tone. “All I know is that you look fucking sexy as hell in them.”

  He lifted his head, and tension tightened the arm he’d thrown around my waist.

  “Art,” he said into his cell. “What the hell was that? Why tell Amanda Post all that stuff? Hold on, I’ve got Josephine here, and I’m putting you on speaker so I can get her where I want her.” Gripping my upper arms, he lifted me up and over him, depositing me on my back in the middle of the bed.

  “Ow.” I grimaced.

  “What’s wrong?” He frowned.

  “I think I might have a couple of scratches on my back.” My face warmed. “You know. From the tree.”

  “Oh, babe. I’m sorry.” He set his phone beside me and planted his palms on the mattress at either side of my head, gazing down at me with a tenderness that made my heart sing.

  “Tree, huh?” Art’s voice emerged from the iPhone speakers. “That sounds interesting. Is she naked now? FaceTime, please. I want to see.”

  “What she is, is none of your business.” Balancing on one arm, Gale continued to stare at me, his gaze sliding over my face like a caress, and his body warming me. “And none of what you told Amanda about us was either,” he said, turning his head and frowning at his cell.

&nbs
p; “It’s band business,” Art grumbled. “That song’s going to be Anthem’s next big hit.”

  Gale sighed. “You’re probably right.”

  “Midnight cape. Electric eyes. Velvet touch. It’s Josephine. Anyone who sees her is going to get it.”

  “I’m not trying to hide anything,” Gale said. “It’s a timing issue.”

  “Everyone’s going to figure who the song is about as soon as it gets airplay.”

  “They will. When that occurs. But that’s not going to be until we sign with a new label. I sure as hell don’t want to share royalties with Lesowski Entertainment on a song that could potentially be our next big hit. And regarding my relationship with Jo, I want us to have a little time to ourselves without all the media bullshit to contend with.”

  I love you, I mouthed silently, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

  Gale smiled slowly, and my stomach predictably fluttered. I brought a hand to his lips to trace the curve of them with my fingertips.

  “I get it,” he said to Art, then took my hand and kissed it. “Amanda’s directable. Better a little leak of information to her than a flood of unfortunate details to someone else.”

  “Yeah.” Art sighed. “That’s what I thought since there’s already someone unfortunate asking questions about you and Jo.”

  Gale’s lips flattened. “Who?”

  “Carter Besille.”

  “Fuck,” Gale said, shaking his head.

  My heart raced as I took in that news. Amanda, I might have had to rack my brain to place as a journalist, but Besille, not so much. Everyone knew who the notorious talk show host was. He had a reputation for being totally unscrupulous.

  “Carter phoned Noah first, then me. I heard from some of the tour crew that he’s asking questions about you and Jo.”

  “What kind of questions?” Gale sat up, his expression grim, and pulled me with him.

  “A few about the bus accident,” Art said. “But mostly about the Rock Fuck Club. He seems to have homed in on you and your relationship with Jo.”

  “Shit,” Gale said.

  “Yeah, I know. That guy’s a total asshat. I figured you’d want a heads-up, and getting Amanda involved was my idea. I thought if she reported it first, it would take some of the novelty out of anything Besille might have to say. Sorry if I overstepped.”

  “Sorry I ripped you a new one.”

  “On your side, Gale, no matter what. Always have your back,” Art said before he hung up.

  Tossing aside his phone, Gale shifted his full attention back to me. “I’d hoped to delay this particular conversation until later in the week.”

  My hands twisted together, and so did my stomach. “What conversation?”

  “What statement you want to make to the media about us.”

  Josephine

  “WHAT DO YOU WANT to tell them?” I asked, hedging as I dropped my gaze and moved away from Gale. To give myself space to think, I sat opposite him on the bed and pulled a pillow to my chest, my stomach rolling.

  Dolly was wrong. I needed my wall to protect myself. Not from Gale, but from the trouble that would surely come because of me.

  “Nothing.” His eyes narrowed. “I’d prefer not to tell them a fucking thing.”

  “But that’s not an option, is it?” I bit down on my lip, a familiar acidic self-loathing splashing within the trembling walls of my stomach.

  “No, once the media is on to something, they’re on it. Ignoring them won’t make them go away.” His expression hard, he shook his head. “Like it or not, you’re a public figure now.”

  The edge to Gale’s voice clearly reminded me that he hadn’t wanted me to do the Rock Fuck Club. After our first brief ride together, he’d cautioned me not to do the show. His dire prediction about it had been much like Marsha’s, though his had been decidedly worse.

  “I’m barely a blip as a celebrity right now,” I whispered, but once the show aired, that would all change. “You’re the megastar. But I get your point.” I hugged the pillow tighter to my chest, but what I really wanted to hold was him.

  “And my point is?” His brow creased in confusion.

  “That our time together has to end.” Much, much sooner than I’d anticipated.

  I sensed a sudden change in him that locked his jaw and made the air feel too oppressively heavy to breathe. It also made the bed beneath me feel like a too-thin layer of ice.

  “How do you figure that.” His voice didn’t just have an edge, it became a blade, slashing through the air and shattering the ice.

  “We don’t have any wiggle room for you to deny loving me,” I said, “since you were filmed saying it on the show. But you could say you made a mistake, that you changed your mind.” That would keep my bad karma from blowing back on him. “Everyone will believe you.”

  “But I do love you.” His expression darkened. “There’s no mistake. Why would I want to deny it?”

  I let out a shaky exhale. “Because I’m me, and I’ve done the things I’ve done, and you’re you.” The very issue that had kept me from asking him to cross the line I had drawn between us remained, though now he knew the terrible truth of it.

  “I thought we were through with all that bullshit.” His brows snapped together.

  “The disparity between us?” I shook my head, my eyes hot, burning from shameful tears I refused to let go. My brother was gone forever because of me, and Gale would have to go soon. “No, that disparity will always exist. I’m not right for you.”

  In fact, I was all wrong. I reached for the locket that hung between my breasts, curling my fingers around it. The silver was cool in my grip, the weight of it suddenly heavier to bear.

  “There is no disparity, and you’re exactly right for me. Come here,” Gale said firmly. Grabbing the edge of the pillowcase, he tugged the pillow from my grip and tossed it aside, then opened his arms. “Now, Jo.”

  “Okay.” I climbed over, eliminating the space between us.

  Disparity, reason, the condemnation permanently etched upon my soul, none of that mattered at the moment, though it should. As soon as I was in his lap, I wrapped my arms around his waist, and he closed his around me.

  The air lightened. I exhaled, feeling steadier. Warmer.

  “Don’t retreat inside your head.” Gale tucked his finger under my chin and pried it away from his chest. Staring down at me, his silver eyes were pools of understanding, an irresistible lure, like all the rest of him. “Don’t withdraw from me.”

  “Gale,” I said, wrenching his name from the tightness in my throat. “You need to accept that any time we can share together is limited.”

  “I recognize no such thing.” He pulled me closer, drawing soothing patterns on my back. “We’re building on a foundation that’s already been established,” he said, softly but firmly. “Not dismantling it.”

  “You sound like Dolly,” I muttered.

  “Good. Glad to hear she’s backing me up and giving you sound advice. In a lot of ways, I feel like I’m competing with her. You’ve had her in your life longer. Go to her more readily when troubled. The bond you two share is strong.”

  “She wanted me to come with you to make ours stronger.”

  “That’s exactly why I wanted to take this trip with you. Besides the obvious reasons, of course.” His lids lowering, he gave me an approving scan that warmed me. Even the chill of the past was no match against him. “You can’t run from me to her out here. You can’t withdraw. I won’t let you. It’s you and me from now on, and we’ll decide what to do about the media together.”

  I considered that, because I was weak and wanted to believe there was some way to avoid the inevitable. “What did you tell everyone when you first started dating your wife?”

  “That was different. Diana wasn’t a public figure. She preferred to be kept out of the public side of my life entirely. I told you about all that.”

  “Yes, I remember,” I said softly.

  I didn’t want to bring his wife up,
for many reasons.

  Gale’s unfounded guilt associated with her death. My inability to compete with a memory or the dream they’d shared. He’d been her husband. She’d had him first. She’d given him things I never could, such as a normal life free of any scandal.

  “Trying to maintain separate public and private lives doesn’t work,” he said, continuing to rub my back. “It’s not an option in our case anyway. Not with your career and mine. But I like that you’re in the music business too. That you’re supportive of me. That you understand my commitment to and my passion for music.”

  “Music is a reliable haven for both of us. A place where we process best.” I shifted in his embrace. I didn’t want to think about the fact that what was best for him wasn’t me.

  “It’s true that I process emotions through my music.” His gaze was unwavering. “But I also process sharing with you. I hope in time you’ll trust me with all your secrets and deepest thoughts.”

  Marsha’s warning came to mind, that I should tell Gale about the final fuck I owed the show. But that was different.

  In all the important things, I did trust him, but I shook my head, denying it. “You’re talking about hypotheticals in the future.”

  “Of course I am.” He frowned. “I’m okay with moment by moment with you, as long as those moments are building blocks for our future. You knew when you got on my bike and went with me out into the desert that what I wanted wasn’t temporary or casual.”

  I didn’t contradict him. I did know, and I’d been complicit. Wanting and needing him so desperately, I’d justified going with him, ignoring potential problems I shouldn’t have.

  His gaze narrowed. “You agreed to this extended ride with me.”

  “I gave you a concession.” I pressed my lips flat. “But a ride with you on your motorcycle then, and a trip now, doesn’t equate to a long-term commitment.”

  “You on the back of my bike? It does to me, Jo.”

  “I’m not versed on the nuances of biker-ology.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You don’t have to be. You want what I want.”