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Rock Star's Baby_An Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 2


  Or is that just that charisma and electricity that rock stars give off all the time?

  “But please make yourself at home. And try and mention to my dad that you really like the bed. He’s got high hopes for it.”

  “I’m sure I will. Anything beats sleeping on a bus. Plus those buses are lonely, unless you like sleeping in what amounts to a bunk bed with a bunch of rockers above, below and next to you all of the hours of the day you’re not performing.”

  “That sounds fun,” I say.

  “It can be, and it was when I was…your age.” He pauses. “How old are you anyways?”

  “Me?”

  He nods, his eyes narrowing as his pupils dilate waiting for my response.

  “I just turned twenty-two.”

  “Twenty-two. Wow. So young. So innocent,” he says.

  “Compared to a big rock and roll star aren’t we all innocent?” I say. What has gotten into me talking like this?

  “You might be surprised,” he says.

  “Really?”

  He just looks at me and it feels like time stands still. I hear nothing and see nothing other than him. I want to reach out and touch him, or better yet for him to reach out and touch me. I’ve been missing the feeling of him since his lips came off the back of my hand.

  And now I want his lips somewhere else, like smack dab on mine.

  And what’s making me wonder if I’m imagining things or if there’s something really going on here is how he was polite with Harley, but barely seemed to pay her any mind. He just seems so fixated on me.

  But isn’t that what famous people do? They have power and when they see something they want they just become locked on it and know that if they go for it they’ll get it. Their draw is too strong to resist, and I’m experiencing just that right now.

  I feel my feet slide in a little closer to him. His body is so big and wide I can’t see around him. He blocks the entire doorway to my room.

  And he still hasn’t entered yet. Maybe he’s still considering the couch.

  “You gonna be okay in here?” Suddenly I see my dad’s hand on his shoulder but I don’t see my dad. Wow, he’s so big my dad’s invisible behind him. “Or is all the pink on the walls too masculine for you?”

  My dad’s the first to laugh at his joke…again. Neither of us so much as smile. Not just because it’s not that funny, but because we’re fixated on each other for the second time already. He’s been here all of about ten minutes, or probably less, and twice we’ve been completely locked in on each other. Fixated. Practically obsessed.

  At least that’s the way I feel.

  “Come on. We’ve got food and drinks in the living room, but we can take them out in the yard and catch up. A lot has changed since you last saw us.”

  “Yeah…a lot has changed,” he says as his eyes break free from mine and very obviously scan up and down my body.

  I take the opportunity to do the same. Two can play at this game.

  But the real game is just beginning.

  How in the world can we get what is becoming more clear by the minute that we both want, but without my dad finding out?

  CHAPTER 4

  Hendrix

  I convince Steven to give me a minute to take a shower. I was on that bus all night and I need to clean myself up.

  But that’s not the only reason.

  My skin is running hot, my blood pumping through my veins at the thought of her.

  And of course the shower is a shared shower upstairs between the two girl’s rooms.

  I step inside and smell the same scent I smelled on her. That feminine vanilla and I exhale hard.

  I came here to take a shower and catch my thoughts quickly…to cool down, and all that has happened is that it’s made things worse. Much worse.

  I get out of my clothes and look down at my massive erection. All I can picture right now is her face and all I can imagine is how much I want to fill it with expressions of pleasure.

  And right now I really need to please myself.

  I can’t be walking around in my buddy’s house all day with a massive erection. Not only is it rude beyond belief, but he’s going to see it at some point. And that’s assuming he hasn’t already.

  It won’t take long for him to put two and two together and figure out his daughter is the cause.

  And then things will get really weird.

  I step inside the shower and flip the water handle on.

  I feel the cool water rush over my skin, but it does nothing to ease my need for her.

  I put shampoo in the palm of my hand and bring my hand to my groin.

  Just before I lay my rod in my grip and begin to stroke I stop and reconsider.

  I can’t do this. Imagining her here in her own bathroom is just as bad as trying to please myself and thinking that’s going to help anything.

  I’ve never desired a woman like this in my entire life, and there’s no way a cheap release is going to satisfy me.

  Absolutely no way. I need the real thing. I need her.

  This isn’t some crazy week in the middle of nowhere story to take with me.

  Not at all. And as a matter of fact the thing I need to take away with me from this week here at my buddy’s house can only be one thing.

  Her.

  CHAPTER 5

  Hope

  I bring the cookies, cake and drinks to the backyard picnic table and my eyes wander up to the small window in the bathroom upstairs.

  I can only imagine what he might be doing up there. And more importantly is he thinking of me wile he’s doing it.

  “You can’t eat soup with a fork,” my mom says looking at the places at the table I’ve set.

  “Right. Sorry, those were for the cake and cookies,” I say realizing I didn’t even carry the desserts out like I thought I had. I’d actually grabbed the soup.

  I really need to focus. And why are we having soup on a hot summer’s day anyways?

  The last thing I need to do is raise my internal temperature anymore. It’s already way too high.

  I turn to go back inside the house and when I do I see there’s no way I’m getting through the door. Not with him standing there.

  “Is there a big and tall store nearby,” he says? “I forgot my clothes on the bus.”

  “You mean my clothes aren’t cool enough for you?” my dad says.

  I take one look at my dad and then one look at him and the size difference becomes even more noticeable. It’s not that my dad is small, it’s just that he’s so…huge.

  Everywhere apparently. I can see he’s still got a bulge in his pants, but it’s not as obvious as before. I wonder if he took care of it in the shower and it’s back already.

  He steps down out of the doorway and into the backyard.

  I go to the kitchen to get some spoons and I turn to see my mom behind me.

  “Hope, can you run him to the store real quick after we give him a chance to eat something? He surely must want to put on fresh clothes after that shower. It should only take a minute.”

  “Um…yeah, sure mom.”

  “Thanks sweetheart. I’d do it if I have time, but I have cleanup to do and tons of work I need to catch up on on my laptop later today.”

  “Yeah. No problem.”

  “Thanks,” my mom says turning to go. “And you might need to keep a close eye on him. I imagine if the other girls in the area spot him it could get crazy really fast. I’ve seen the paparazzi chases on YouTube.”

  “Sure mom. We’ll…wear sunglasses.”

  “That’s a good start.”

  My mom grabs a tray and heads back outside. Does she even know she just dropped a gift right into my lap? Talk about Christmas in July.

  CHAPTER 6

  Hendrix

  “How do these look?” I say as I slide on her oversized sunglasses from the center console of the family car?

  She bursts out laughing and practically swerves out of her lane. “Well, you are a rock star so you
can pretty much wear anything and get away with it. I mean anything will look good on you,” she says.

  Maybe anything, but the only thing I want on me is her. On me. Under me. And most importantly next to me for life.

  “But you’re so much taller and bigger than anyone else that I don’t think those sunglasses are really going to help much. If anything they’re so big and obnoxious they might just draw more attention to you.”

  “Then there’s only one thing we can do?”

  “I have to pick out the clothes for you while you sit in the car?”

  “No way. We’re in this together.”

  “Um…ok,” she says. She smiles wide again and it hits me right in the gut. I like the honesty of her smile. The way her eyes move in tandem with her mouth letting me know it’s a real smile. She’s having a great time goofing around with this little game we’re creating and now it’s time to take it up a notch.

  “We’ll have to…pretend…to be a couple,” I say.

  “Phhh!” she exhales as she leans forward closer to the wheel. She pulls her body back in her seat and then slaps the wheel. “Nobody’s going to believe that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, because…I don’t know. Because you’re you and I’m well…me.”

  “That’s exactly why they’ll believe it.”

  “You’re crazy,” she says. Crazy about you, girl.

  “Hear me out. Do I have a reputation as a womanizer?”

  She squints and I see her really considering my question. “Actually…you don’t, do you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Wow, that’s strange.”

  “What’s strange? That I have certain standards for myself and women?”

  “No. I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just that with rock and roll stars you always assume that they have women at their beck and call everywhere they go and so they…I don’t know. Indulge?”

  “Not me.”

  “But I’ve seen the pictures and videos from your shows. I’ve seen the woman flashing the stage and trying to get on the tour bus…everything.”

  “But did you see any of those woman succeed? Did you see me with any of them?”

  “Come to think of it…no.”

  “And that’s why our story works. Here I am in some small town hiding out with the girl I really want. The one I really have a real relationship with away from all the bright lights and big cities.”

  “And glitz and glamour and glitter.”

  “Glitter was an 80’s thing. We’ve moved on.”

  She laughs again. “Yeah, 80s parties are my favorite.”

  “Have you been to many?”

  “A few, but not recently.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I’ve been…busy.”

  “Busy? You’re twenty-two years old. It’s the time of your life. You should be out enjoying yourself.”

  “I am enjoying myself. Now for instance.”

  “Hanging out with your dad’s old buddy?”

  “I never saw you like that.”

  “How did you see me then?”

  Her eyes focus on the road ahead and her mouth closes just when I want her to open it most and tell me exactly what she feels. Not that her answer will matter much anyways. I’d never force myself upon her, or anyone in any way, but I already know there’s a big spark here that’s about to erupt into a fire. A blaze that can’t be put out. And I know I’m going to make her mine. I just want to hear her say it.

  I write my own songs and lyrics are everything to me. The power of words. And as powerful as any of my songs may have ever been, what she says next will blow me away more than any lyric or guitar riff.

  “I see you as…someone I’d like to get to know more.”

  She took the easy way out.

  “That’s funny,” I say.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I see you as someone I’d like to get to know a lot more too.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, but when I mean a lot more I mean a lot, lot more. As in I’m going to make you mine for good.”

  I feel the car accelerate as we suddenly round the corner and turn into the mall.

  We almost missed the turn, but get it at the last second…at what must have been double the speed allowed.

  And pursuing my buddy’s daughter is anything but allowed, but I don’t care. I’m going to do it anyways, and for one reason and one reason only.

  I have to make her mine no matter what even if it means risking the best friendship I’ve ever had.

  She’s worth it. She’s worth everything.

  CHAPTER 7

  Hope

  A million thoughts are flashing through my mind as we enter the mall.

  Him. Life in California. Being onstage at those concerts. The electricity. The emotion. Holding a huge crowd spellbound in your hand.

  I can only imagine.

  And I never really imagined it was possible until five minutes ago.

  My head is still spinning at the thought, but apparently I’m not the only one now.

  A couple of girls in front of us do a double take on Hendrix and seconds later they’re screaming with their phones out trying to take selfies with him.

  “I’m not who you think I am,” he says. “I just look like him, but I’m a German tourist.”

  “Oh…,” they say, the wind coming out of their sales as they lower their phones and dart into Hot Topic.

  We both laugh.

  “A German tourist?”

  “We can use Italian next time, if it happens again,” he says. “I like to mix it up. Practice my geography. Americans are pretty bad at it you know.”

  “I love geography!” I say.

  “Great, where’s Orange County?”

  “The one in California?”

  “The one where you’re going to come and stay with me,” he says placing his arm around my shoulder.

  I can’t believe he’s claiming me here in public. It’s only a matter of time before somebody else tries to take a picture and it might not be a selfie. What if a picture of us winds up on the Internet?

  Am I really even prepared for all of this? For this life? This is happening way too fast, not that I’m complaining.

  It’s crazy to think I wanted this so bad and now that it’s happening I have to actually stop and think through exactly what I might be getting myself into. But time is the last thing I have right now. I know he’s walking slowly but those long legs of his require me to keep moving just to keep up. And as a second group of people approach us my mind is already wondering what this life of fame is really like.

  Now I know why all those rich people hang out in Malibu, California. They need their privacy. It seems so obvious, but it really makes sense once you experience it for yourself. And this is just the tip of the iceberg.

  “Is that your girlfriend?” one of the girls asks.

  “Hope?” someone says. “You’re with Hendrix?”

  I look up at him and he’s already looking down at me.

  “You don’t have to say anything. It just gives them fuel to whatever fire they’re trying to start.”

  I pull myself in close to him and feel his big muscles. I instantly feel safer and thankfully I see the men’s big and tall shop straight ahead.

  We enter and the security guy at the door stops the crowd that’s following us.

  “No drinks in the store,” he says. They quickly congregate outside the entrance, some even throwing their drinks away so they can enter.

  “We’ve got five minutes I’d guess.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Any specific things you’re looking for?”

  “At this point anything clean will do. Basics like T-shirts, underwear and denim.”

  “Got it!” I say and we split and begin stuffing things under our arms.

  Not a minute later we’re both at the register dropping the haul on the counter.