The Complete Rockstar Series

  “Daxey, I really need to get going,” Lila cries in that whingy voice of hers.

  “You’re not going anywhere until you explain this.” I hold out the magazine article from the club in Chicago. “Girlfriend, Lila? Really?”

  She blanches, but holds her ground. “They put whatever they want in those things, Dax. That’s not my fault.”

  It doesn’t escape me that she didn’t call me Daxey. “This shit is going to stop, Lila. I’m not your boyfriend. You’re not my girlfriend. I don’t want the media thinking it, photographing it, or reporting on it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Lila’s face twists into a sneer so powerful that it would be intimidating to most people. I’m not most people.

  “This is the game, Dax. I’m in promotions and getting you and the others recognized and talked about is my job. Tell Kate to get over her jealous whining and that this is the way it is in the big show. You too Daxey. Public perception is everything. Your fans don’t want to see a hot stud like you hanging out with boring Miss Nobody. You’ll thank me when you see your album sales increase.”

  Lila pushes past me and stalks out of the room leaving me wondering what the hell just happened.

  Kate

  Three weeks later

  “Good job everyone!” Coach Russo high fives us as we leave the pitch, giddy after another win at home.

  “Thanks Coach,” I say as I slap his hand.

  “Great game, Campbell. Great game.”

  Smiling, I hit the locker room to change out of my kit and grab a shower. Dax is back from his tour and supposed to come over later. I took Abby’s advice and gave in, finally speaking to Dax on the phone. He confirmed that Lila set the pictures and article up for promotional reasons. He claims he had no idea she was standing next to him when the photos were taken.

  I have no reason not to believe him, but my low self-esteem rears it’s ugly head. Why wouldn’t he prefer Lila to me? She’s rich and blonde and drop-dead gorgeous, with a famous father to boot. Even I was convinced that the photographs were real. They look perfect together.

  Then there were pictures of Dax and some ginger slag cozying up in a pub in Seattle. After getting hysterical, eating an entire sleeve of Oreos, and getting ready to call Dax screaming, Abby talked me down by pointing out that there are going to be loads of similar photos in the future, and I’d either have to trust Dax to be faithful, or break up with him now.

  Once again, Abby was right. I don’t have to like the photos, but they are going to happen. Plus, Dax promising he’d try harder not to be caught unawares by the paparazzi helped soothe things over.

  Reaching into my locker for my mobile, I bring up a picture I took of Dax and me before he left for the tour. He’s as handsome as ever, gorgeous smile, angled jaw, and rugged good looks. Then there’s me, plain, no makeup, wearing athletic gear and a ponytail.

  I drag my finger down the picture of Dax’s face.

  “What’s got you all mooney-eyed?” my teammate Brittany asks as she tosses her filthy cleats into her bag. I quickly lock the screen and toss the mobile onto the bench.

  “I am most certainly not mooney-eyed!”

  Brittany rolls her eyes. “You are so mooney-eyed I’m surprised that you aren’t humming cheesy love songs, Kate.” She chuckles at herself.

  “Ok fine. I might be in a good mood,” I admit, pulling my hair up into my customary high ponytail, which, in light of my recent thoughts, makes me frown. I’m so predictable.

  “So…?”

  I look at Brittany, confused. “So… what?”

  “Who’s got you so giddy? A man? You’ve never mentioned anyone.” She hikes her bag on her shoulder and we walk out of the locker room together. I shoot her a look to which she responds, “Please. I can tell it’s a man. No one gets like that unless love is involved.”

  Trying to act casual, I play it off like no big deal. I haven’t mentioned Dax to my teammates because we only started dating this summer and by the time school started, the band was on tour. Plus, I’m not sure I want to share my semi-famous boyfriend with anyone else yet.

  “Just a bloke I know.” I shrug casually as if it’s no big deal that I’m finally in a relationship with a man I’ve been in love with for the last fourteen years.

  Brittany laughs loudly, following me out of the locker room. “Yeah right. ‘Just a bloke’,” she says in the worst British accent I’ve ever heard.

  I laugh with her and push open the door to exit the athletic building. We must walk through a black hole that takes us to hell, because no sooner have we stepped foot outside than we are completely surrounded by screaming, pushing, loud reporters. Men with enormous cameras jostle for position amongst the journalists that shove microphones and recorders under my nose.

  “Jesus! What the hell?” Brittany shouts as an overzealous paparazzo shoves her aside.

  Brittany, being a brilliant defender for our team, kicks the man in the shin, eliciting a loud complaint.

  “Kate, what the fuck is going on?” she asks, threading our arms together so we won’t get separated again.

  I don’t want to explain it to her, and don’t get a chance. The questions have already begun.

  “Kate! Is it true you’re dating Dax Davies from Sphere of Irony?”

  “Kate! Kate! Did you cause a break up between Dax and Lila?”

  “Kate! What’s it like being the other woman?”

  “Kate! Are you dropping out of school to join Dax on his next tour?”

  Holy hell.

  The pack gets closer and closer until Brittany and I can no longer move. I resort to being polite so I won’t break down crying in front of them.

  “Please. Let us through. We just want to get home.”

  It doesn’t help. The extremely personal, and mostly untrue, questions keep hitting me rapid-fire like bullets sprayed from a machine gun. It’s been less than two minutes since we’ve stepped out of the building and I’m nearly in tears from the stress. The blood pulsing behind my ears is so loud I can barely hear Brittany threatening the reporters with bodily harm if they don’t let us through.

  “Get out of here!” A thunderous voice booms across the quad. “This is completely out of line!” Muffled curses erupt from the direction of the bellowing. Coach Russo pushes his way into the tight inner circle amid a sea of protests.

  He stands directly in front of Brittany and me and addresses the reporters in his loudest ‘don’t fuck with me’ voice. “You are harassing my players and causing a disturbance on campus. I will call the police if you don’t allow us through!” He puts one hand on the back of each of our necks, guiding us through the crowd towards the safety of the athletic building.

  Once the door is shut and the frenzy locked out, Coach turns to speak. “They’re not allowed inside the buildings on campus without permission, but the public areas are fair game.” He gives me a strange look and turns to Brittany. “Miss Cavanaugh, you may go out the back entrance. Miss Campbell,” his piercing gaze hits me again, “come with me to my office.”

  Brittany stares at me as if silently asking if I’m okay.

  Nodding, I let her know it’s fine. “Go ahead, Brit. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She’s hesitant, I can see dozens of questions in her eyes, but eventually she turns and goes down the hallway in the opposite direction. Inhaling deep, I follow Coach Russo to his cramped, messy office.

  “Sit.” He points at a chair covered with equipment. I move each item to the other one, now overflowing, and drop down heavily once it’s clear. He is a terrible slob.

  Coach sits behind his desk, clasping his fingers in front of his mouth in a steeple. “So. Want to explain whatever that was I just saved you from?”

  I stare at my hands, so not wanting to discuss Dax or my private life with my coach.

  “Kate,” he says in a softer tone. “What is going on? Are you in trouble or something?”

  My head snaps up to meet his concerned face, his dark eyes
shining transparently with his desire to help.

  “I’m not in trouble, Coach.”

  He sighs, sitting back in his chair, which emits a loud squeak as it bears more of his weight. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  I shake my head, my eyes filling with tears.

  “Alright. But I can’t have reporters accosting my players. If you need something, ask.”

  “Right, Coach.”

  “I’ll walk you out the back to make sure there’s no one there waiting for you.” He stands up and joins me on the other side of his desk. Coach Russo isn’t a large man, just an inch or so taller than me. His skin is a dark olive and his hair jet black and curly, giving away his Italian heritage almost as much as his last name.

  “Thanks,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

  He nods, opening the door to his office so I can exit first. We walk to the back of the building in silence and I relax my tense muscles when I see that the only people outside are a few members of the track and field team, warming up for practice.

  “It’s clear. Go home, rest, and remember, Kate, you can talk to me about anything. You girls are my responsibility.” His dark eyes shine with concern.

  “Yeah, thanks Coach.”

  I hurry back to my flat to call Dax. When I get there, I find over thirty messages on the answering machine. After playing the first two and realizing they’re all from nosy reporters, I delete the rest without listening.

  Sitting on my bed, a bed Dax and I have made love in countless times, I wonder how long this thing with him can possibly last. Dax and the other guys are becoming more and more famous every day. Their first album is a huge success, debuting at number thirty on the Billboard list. As the tour progressed and singles were released, it now rests comfortably in the top ten.

  Tired and still freaked out by the incident on campus, I kick off my shoes and lay back, arranging my pillow beneath my head. Without thinking, I turn and inhale the other pillow, the one Dax uses when he stays over. His scent is long gone, having been six weeks since he was last here.

  Depressed, I close my eyes, willing the rock that’s sitting in my stomach to go away. I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, someone is dragging a hand down my cheek. My eyes fly open and my heart begins to pound.

  “Dax!”

  He gives me a crooked grin, yet his eyes look wary, as if he’s waiting for me to scream or yell at him. I fling myself at him, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders and tucking my face against his neck.

  “You scared me half to death!”

  His large arms surround me, squeezing me into his chest.

  “Sorry angel. You didn’t answer the door, so I let myself in,” he whispers into my hair. I gave him a key a while back so he could come over after a late gig or recording session and not bother Abby.

  “I missed you so much.” I try not to choke up or cry. I don’t want to ruin this moment with my tales of horror with the media.

  “Me too, angel. Me too.” Dax leans back, cupping my face in his hands. Despite his determination to keep everything shuttered up behind a strong front, he seems on the verge of breaking down as well. I’m about to ask what’s wrong when his mouth crushes against mine and all rational thoughts fly right out of my mind.

  Dax

  I didn’t realize how worried I was that Kate would never talk to me again until I had her in my arms, my tongue sweeping into her mouth for that familiar taste. After six weeks of tense phone calls and moments where I thought she’d get sick of the bullshit with Lila and the other photos and chuck me for good, I’ve got my girl where she belongs. With me.

  Mine. I won’t let Lila or any of my shit hurt her.

  Rule 5—Defend what’s yours.

  The thought of losing Kate sends fear skittering down my spine. Desperation takes over and I push her back on the bed, covering her with my body as I devour her sweet mouth. In between moaning, sloppy kisses, and frantic pawing, we manage to strip off our clothes.

  “Jesus, I missed this,” I groan into her mouth as our naked skin comes together. We grind against each other, reveling in the reconnection after time apart.

  “Dax.”

  It’s a whisper from her lips. Just a quiet sigh. Yet the sound of it kicks my instincts into overdrive, sending molten desire coursing through my veins. My skin feels so hot, I wonder if I’ll end up burned from the inside out.

  “Need you,” I mumble back, trailing small bites and licks down the side of Kate’s neck to her breasts.

  “Me too,” she says breathlessly, obviously feeling the same urgent need.

  I fumble to get a condom out of the nightstand and on as quickly as possible. Once ready, we waste no time. It’s been so long that foreplay is not on today’s menu. Thrusting in deep and hard, I hiss from the tight heat of Kate’s body as she moans loud and long.

  “Fuck. Feels so good.” The groans and curses fall out of my mouth unconsciously as she lifts her hips to meet mine.

  “Faster, Dax. Harder.” Kate is panting loudly, her hands pulling at my shoulders in a bid to get me to give her more.

  I know my self-control is shit, but with Kate, I try even harder so I’m not the selfish asshole that hurts her. I always worry about freaking her out with the power I want to unleash when fucking. Kate’s begging for it though. Fucking begging me to go harder. My willpower will only hold up for just so long.

  Propping up on my knees, I take one of those long, toned, legs and throw it over my shoulder. I get a tight grip on her hips, my fingers pressing in so hard she might end up with bruises. Then, I fuck her as requested. Hard.

  After the first solid thrust, Kate’s hands shoot up above her head, landing flat against the headboard to keep her from hitting it as I pound into her over and over. The sound of skin slapping on skin is drowned out by her loud keening and my vicious snarling. All I can think of is “mine” as I lay claim to her gorgeous body.

  Sweat trickles down my temples, dripping off and rolling down my chest but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Watching Kate’s face contort with ecstasy as she takes every bit of my brutal fucking is one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen. My name falls from her lips like both a curse and a prayer as she comes, sending me over the edge. With one final, ruthless drive, intense heat explodes from the base of my spine and I roar with my release.

  “Christ.” I collapse over her in a heap, forgetting to hold up my considerable weight. “Fuck, sorry.” As I start to roll off in fear of squashing her, Kate wraps her arms and legs around me, locking me in place.

  “No. Don’t move yet. This is… it’s perfect.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Kate.” My lips find hers, brushing over them lightly. I use one hand to push her tangled hair back from her face.

  Kate’s green eyes trap me in place, the honesty in them stunning to see. “You would never hurt me, Dax. Not physically anyway.”

  I’m about to ask what she means when the front door slams shut and her flatmate Abby calls out, “Hey Kate! Want to grab a bite?”

  Kate squeals and I yank the duvet up as the bedroom door swings open. “Whoa! Sorry!” The door closes and Abby starts giggling from the other side. “I forgot you were coming back today, Dax. I’ll just… ummmm, change up and leave you two alone. ‘K?”

  Laughing, Kate answers. “No. Don’t worry, Abby. We’ll have something to eat with you.” She glances at me to see if this is okay. I nod, willing to do whatever she wants as long as we’re together.

  “I’d rather spend the rest of the week in bed, but we will have to eat at some point,” I say. Kate shoves my arm jokingly, apparently thinking that I’m kidding.

  I’m not.

  She hops out of bed to clean up, moving to throw on some clothes and somehow the strange comment Kate made is forgotten. My eyes are glued to that lithe, naked body, effectively wiping every other coherent thought right out of my head.

  Kate

  “So, how’s uni, Kate?” Adam asks, talki
ng with his mouth full of hamburger.

  We got takeaway and invited the band over so we could catch up without interruptions. I couldn’t be more thankful. Watching gorgeous women hit on my boyfriend in a crowded restaurant isn’t very high on my list of things I’d like to experience. The guys are definitely becoming more recognizable.

  “Gross, Adam,” Abby mock-whines, shoving against his shoulder playfully.

  Ever so slightly, but enough that I notice, Hawke’s posture stiffens when Abby flirts with Adam. She’s so Adam’s type, gorgeous, blonde, and very Ellie-like. Abby is only teasing though. She’s told me Adam is not even close to what she likes in a man. Too bad for Adam, I guess, but good for me. I don’t need him shagging and ditching the best mate I have in California. She’s turned him down enough times that he’s given up trying.

  “Classes are good. We’re a definite for the tournament this year. Now we just have to see if we win the PAC-10.” I take a big sip of my drink as Adam half-listens to me while ogling my flatmate.

  “Hey,” Dax says playfully, reaching across the coffee table to lightly punch Adam on the arm. “When my girl is talking, you could at least look at her. You did ask her a question.”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Davies. I’m listening.” Adam swings his gaze over to me. “When’s your next game? I’d like to watch you play. All this time knowing you and I’ve never seen you on the pitch.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Gavin adds with one of his killer smiles. The kind that makes me think the man should be modeling posh watches or expensive men’s wear. He’s bloody gorgeous. Literally achingly beautiful.

  “Dax?” I turn to see what he thinks of going to my last regular season game. It’s a big one, against California, one of our big rivals.

  “I thought you’d never ask, angel. I’d love to see you play.” He leans in for a quick kiss, his hand skimming over my knee.

  “Dirty, dirty, boy,” I whisper in his ear as his hand moves up my thigh.

  “So are we going?” Gavin asks.