Let’s face it – rock bands are sexy. And not just because the lead singer tends to rip off his shirt. The unattainable famous bad boy is an awesome fantasy. At some point, whether it lasted a day or ten years, everyone went through a phase where they had the hots for a rocker. This month was the release of book one in my Bad Decisions trilogy, where you can get your fill of sexy rock gods, hot hook-ups and band drama.
Kylie Stafford has spent her whole life doing exactly what’s expected. The right major, the right sorority, the right guys, just like her mother and her sister before her. But when everything falls apart for her, Kylie wonders if doing everything right has been utterly wrong. There’s only one way to find out.
She decides to try making all the wrong choices for three months. Hit on a tattoo-covered rock musician? Check. Go back to his dressing room
for a hot hook-up against the wall? Gulp. Drop everything to be a roadie for him to binge on more of the best sex of her life? Maybe. Start falling for him despite her better judgment? Um….yeah. Figure out why doing everything that seems wrong feels so darn right?
Here’s a sexy sneek peak!
For just a second, white teeth worried at her lower lip. In exactly the spot he wanted to sink his own teeth. “Um, can I ask you something?”
Her tongue shot out to slick across her lips. God, the woman was killing him. And she probably didn’t even know the effect she had on him. In a quiet voice, Kylie asked, “Why me?”
“You did great tonight. You’re here. Apparently, you’re available. Sometimes things just line up right.”
“Like our lips, earlier tonight.”
Cam shot a desperate glance at the door. Sadly, everyone in the music industry treated the post-show closed door with a solemn reverence. Nobody would interrupt them even if John Lennon came back to life. Why the hell had Jake trusted him to be alone with Kylie? “Yeah, about that.”
Kylie straddled him. Hooked her wrists behind his neck. “We were interrupted. Let’s pick up where we left off.”
Heaving a deep breath, Cam said, “That’s not a good idea.”
The wide-eyed enthusiasm disappeared, replaced by a knowing, sultry look full of promise and passion. “That’s exactly why I want to do it. Bad decisions are a recent specialty of mine.”
“No, I mean, I promised the guys.” Cam kept his promises. Sure, he thought this particular one was stupid, but he still planned to keep it. Performing was the equivalent of stripping yourself naked in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of people. There had to be deep trust between the people doing it with you.
She licked her lips again. And it was obvious that this time she did it on purpose, eyes locked on his. “What, you’ve saved your lips for them alone?”
Funny girl. Funny girl with soft breasts pressed tight against his chest. And thighs that kept grinding her pelvis against his. “I promised them no hanky-panky on the bus.”
“We’re not on the bus yet.”
Smart girl, too. Cam did love a good logic loophole. No one could fault him for obeying the letter of the law instead of the spirit. Or if they did, he’d at least have a decent defense. With his last shred of self-control, he shook his head. “It wouldn’t be right. You work for me.”
“Not yet. I haven’t signed on the dotted line. In fact, I’m not even sure if I have a pen on me to sign.” In one swift movement, Kylie whipped her Riptide shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. “Maybe you could help me look for it?”
Creamy breasts just big enough to fill his palms spilled out of low-cut black lace. The lace was sheer enough he could see the color of her nipples through it. They were about three shades paler than her hair. Sexy as hell. He’d been hard since the moment she sat on his lap. But now he was hard. Ramrod hard. Steel-girder hard. Could break a stack of boards with just his penis hard.
Cam wasn’t sure if he was giving in to his lust, or just giving in to the inevitable. He didn’t care. Framing her breasts, capturing their weight in his hands, he groaned, “God, you’re beautiful.” Then he licked a long, wet line along the edge of her bra. Kylie felt like satin and tasted like sin. It was his favorite combination.
“Help me be bad,” she whispered into his hair.
He was a rock ’n’ roll star. It was practically a contractual requirement to say yes to an offer like that. Still, Cam had standards.
“Let me make you feel good,” he offered instead.