Royce Lemmi went from being the bullied little freak in high school to rock and roll demigod in the blink of an eye. While playing to packed stadiums filled with screaming fans night after night is a daily reminder of how far he’s come, most days Royce can’t help but see that tortured soul from before, anytime he looks in the mirror.
Kieran Hudson has never spent a day of his life questioning who he was or what he wanted. He spends his days tending to his mother’s store, but his nights are dedicated to exploring the world through the lens of his camera and exposing beauty in the most unexpected places.
When Royce and Kieran’s paths cross in a twist of paparazzi fate, they both react true to form. Royce runs to hide the weakness he fears, behind the success he now depends on, while Kieran never wavers on what he wants or who he wants to be with. And he’s going to do what he does best to convince Royce he’s right.
All Kieran has to do…is expose the beauty in the place Royce least expects to find it. Himself.
There was a knock on the door almost simultaneously to it opening.
“Royce?” It was Ava.
“What’s up, buttercup?”
“The coffee here blows. I’m going to make a store run. Need anything?”
I stared down at my legs, fully dressed in jeans, socks and shoes, then back over at the TV screen. I’d been awake, showered, clothed, and watching a Gilligan’s Island marathon since five a.m. What I needed, was to get out of this fucking hotel room.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something once we’re there.” I pointed the remote straight at the captain’s head and pulled the trigger. Thank God that was finally over.
She made a face at me. “You’re going to come?”
“I’m sorry. Is that a problem?” Not twelve hours ago she’d asked me to follow her into the bathroom to keep her company while she showered. Now seemed like an odd time to suddenly require some privacy.
Ava reached for the baseball cap hanging on the doorknob and strapped it over my head. “Not any more.” She pointed at the nightstand behind me. “Hey, grab those shades too, would ya? I really don’t feel like getting attacked by the paparazzi pre-shower and wearing my sweats.”
“You showered. I know. I was there, remember?” I slid on the shades anyway. I wasn’t in the mood for a morning mob either. I was no Blaise Nolan, but in lieu of Finding Nolan’s front man, people seemed to be happy to settle for the lowly bass player in a heartbeat.
“Um, that shower was ages ago. Do you know how much I’ve sweat in the meantime?” She led the way out the door, in spite of her apparent nastiness.
“Gross. I know we’re close Ava, but I do not need to hear about your sweaty sex with Blaise.” I reached for my wallet and room key on the way out.
“Ew! I went for a run this morning, you jackass! For the record, I don’t have unattractive, sweaty sex. I do it all nice and pretty like…you know, the way they do it in the movies. All sensual and magical.”
I nodded, even though she had her back to me. “Yeah, I hear that all the time about hetero sex. How magical it is.” Ava turned her head briefly and acknowledged the sarcasm with a dramatic eye roll and her standard half-smirk, but didn’t bother to respond. We’d had the hetero sex talk plenty of times before in the past. She knew where I stood with it. Preferably at a safe distance where I could pretend it didn’t exist.
Vaginas didn’t scare me exactly. I mean, they seemed innocent enough, and I could see the convenience of it all, one piece fitting into the other. But I’d taken sex ed. I’d seen that sweet little flower chicks claimed they were sitting on morph into monsters big enough to spit out a watermelon on a moment’s notice. Don’t tell me there isn’t something shady about that.
If straight dudes want to stick their dicks in there, I say do so at your own risk. Someday that beast may decide to swallow instead of spit, and then what the fuck are you going to do? Be fucking dickless, that’s what.
We were in the elevator going down to the lobby when I noticed Ava was still grinning.
She chuckled before she answered, “You look nervous. Thinking about penis-eating vaginas again?”
“The thing drools blood, Ava! It’s clearly carnivorous.”
The mocking grin fell from her face. “Okay, now you’re just being disgusting. And you know I can’t keep up in below the belt verbal combat before I’ve had my coffee, so that was an entirely unfair attack.”
I jerked my brow in feigned shock. “What attack? It was merely an act of self-defense. You started it. And it will count. And we’re calling it a truce.”
Book Three ~ Fallen Angel
Word Count ~ 56,000
Content Warning – Adult Language (I think we can pretty much count on this with everything I write, lol)
Angel Hollis has mastered two things in his life. Music and Women. And with the other men of Finding Nolan moving on to more long-term relationships, Angel’s not complaining about picking up the slack and keeping the groupies happy and satisfied.
Addison Jennison has been in love with Angel since she was eleven. Long before the fans were screaming his name and lining up to sleep with him, she was there. Only he never noticed. And why would he? She was just a kid.
Now, at twenty-one, she’s finally old enough to catch his eye…provided he allows himself to look. Addison isn’t just anyone. She’s Ava’s little sister. And Ava’s family. There are rules. Lines that can’t be crossed. Hearts not to be tampered with.
Angel’s determined not to screw up and hurt the people he loves most, but no one is prepared when he comes face to face with his undoing and…he falls.
“So, when will this inappropriate touching take place?” She looks up and catches my gaze again. “I’m assuming I’m the one you’ll be touching inappropriately, right?”
Well, she’s definitely not sweet and innocent anymore. “Uh,” I clear my throat repeatedly. What is happening to me? How in the hell is she doing this? She’s Bam Bam, for fuck’s sake. Ava’s goofy little sister with the sweet smile and sad eyes. Only that’s not who I see when I look at her now. “Did you want to be touched inappropriately?”
She shrugs. “Do you?”
I cough. I feel like a jackass. It’s not cool. I’m supposed to be calm about this shit. Not act like a fucking pansy ass who can barely put together a sentence just because she smiles at me. I’m not fucking Royce.
“Shit.” I drop my fork in my empty box.
“What?” She’s frowning, no sign of that sexy as hell smirk left to be found. Which should make this easier. But it doesn’t. Because I remember. I remember the last time I saw a person acting the way I’m acting right now. And if what happened to him, is happening to me…shit just got real.
“Um, I just remembered. The band. The one I wanted to take you to go see. They start playing in less than half an hour. This time of day, with traffic, I don’t think we’ll make it in time.” I slide down from the trunk of my car, purposely keeping my face turned away from her. I have an odd sense she could see straight through me right now if our eyes met.
“Huh.” I hear a soft thud behind me as her feet hit the ground as well. Then I feel her arm wrap around my stomach, her body pressing against my back. “I don’t really feel like sitting in traffic right now,” she says quietly, her head resting right below my shoulder.
The sensation of suffocating starts to settle in my chest again. I don’t get why it keeps happening. And I don’t like it. If my body continues to equate her touch with oxygen one of us is bound to get hurt…or worse.
“If we don’t get in the car right now and get back on the road,” I pause, straining to fill my lungs with air, “we’re not going to make the show on time.”
“Angel?” Her body slinks around me until we’re standing face to face. “Are you really thinking about a bunch of British guys and their instruments right now?”
That smirk is back. And I’m completely fucked.
“Hell no.” I take in a ragged breath. “I’m thinking we’ve got a real problem here though.”
“I don’t think I can call you Bam Bam anymore,” I mutter, thinking how there’s no chance in hell this smartass, sexy woman will ever again conjure up the same innocent brotherly thoughts that little girl did once upon a time.
Her usual smirk breaks into a smile. “There’s always Addy.”
I shake my head. “No good. Everyone calls you that.”
“What do you want to call me?”
Mine. But I don’t say that out loud. “Something no one else does. Something just for me.”
“Easy. Call me Addison. You can be the first person to ever talk to me like I’m an adult.”
“I like that. Addison.” Then I’m breathing her in. Inhaling her with a kiss so intense I’m losing track of where I end and she begins. Her hands. My hands. Her body. My body. They move together in a way I’ve never felt before with any other woman. It’s like I finally get why people compare themselves to pieces of a puzzle. Because sometimes you find yourself with someone who just…fits.
Dog Lover who likes her pastries full of cream and sugar….oh…and I write some 😉
Aside from being an author, I am also a mom to a beautiful 5 year old little girl. I tell everyone I named her after my great-grandmother (because that’s the mature answer), but really, I named her after my favorite princess – just so happens I got lucky and they had the same name…If I wasn’t a writer, I would work on a horse ranch – I’m an animal lover (in addition to dogs, horses are at the top of my list). I wear flip-flops pretty much everywhere I go. I would rather stay awake until 5 am than get up at 5 am (years of bar tending have left their mark), if I can, I’m going to the beach AND I will always be nice to people who bring me chocolate…or coffee…if you bring me both, I’ll probably love you forever.A gypsy at heart, I write the way I live, following the story wherever it may lead, always ready to start the next one. This is clearly reflected in my body of work which to date includes everything from Children’s Lit to Thrillers.
I happily reside in sunny Florida (for now) and always enjoy hearing from fellow readers!!