Rock Me Dirty Read online

  ROCK ME DIRTY

  ALEXA KAYE

  Copyright Alexa Kaye 2016

  Twenty fucking years I’ve given my fans, my agents, my band members—everyone but me—what they wanted. I gave them everything I had.

  But I can’t anymore. I’m dead inside. There’s nothing left to give.

  Until I see her. The girl wearing fucking wings. White. Angel wings.

  She turns to me and her eyes find mine. And a blast of electricity rips through me. And I feel it. I feel the music like I haven’t in years.

  I don’t know a damn thing about her. At least, I don’t know things that don’t matter. Her name. Where she lives. All I know is that she has somehow ignited that fire in me again.

  She’s my angel. My siren. My salvation. Mine.

  There’s only one problem—she doesn’t know it yet.

  Warning: this sizzling story of insta-lust comes with an extra dose of cheese. If you’re expecting a deep, philosophical read, try Hermann Hesse.

  Are you looking for sexy, cheesy insta-love stories that’ll make your Kindle melt?

  Looking for something that won’t take a month to read but is satisfying, with a hero who deserves his happily ever after and would never cheat on his woman?

  Look no further! Alexa Kaye promises to deliver just that! Short reads with plenty of sexy times and to-die-for heroes who make sure their women are satisfied…in all ways.

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  Chapter 1

  Cole

  Drugs. Booze. Pussy.

  Money coming out my ass.

  It’s all gotten so fucking old.

  I’m done. Over it.

  Standing in the wings, I close my eyes.

  Tonight’s house is packed. It’s a good crowd. The kind I would have given my left nut for back in the day. They’re screaming. They’re yelling. They’re chanting my fucking name (part of my name, not the whole thing)—Cole Zaden. But I don’t give a shit.

  Before you call me out for being a ungrateful prick, try walking a mile or a thousand in my shoes. Every punk dreams of being a rock star. Of having all the pussy you want, drinking and shooting up until you don’t fucking remember your own name. Of living a non-stop party.

  Sure, it’s cool. For…oh, the first five years or so. But try living that life for twenty years. Anything gets old after that long.

  I’m empty. Hollow.

  “Lights up,” the stage manager says.

  Fuck.

  The noise is deafening.

  I can’t go out there. I can’t do it anymore.

  The boys are waiting. Angus on the drums. Jimmy on the rhythm guitar. Big D on bass. They all look my way. The first notes peal through the stadium and the crowd goes even wilder.

  Fuck.

  The intro is over.

  There’s my note.

  It’s time.

  But I can’t do this anymore.

  Frozen in place, I look out at the bodies smashed up against the foot of the stage. They’re faceless, nameless things, demanding, taking, and clawing out my fucking soul. All of them. Every one of them.

  Twenty fucking years I’ve let them have what they wanted. I gave them everything I had.

  But I can’t anymore.

  The band repeats the intro. Jimmy jerks his head.

  Fuck him. Fuck them all. I’m dead inside. They can’t have any more.

  Something catches my eye. A flash of white. On the far side of the stage.

  It’s a girl. Wearing fucking wings. White. Angel wings.

  She turns to me and her eyes find mine. And a blast of electricity rips through me. My heart starts throbbing to the beat.

  I feel it. I feel the music like I haven’t in years.

  I lift the mic to my mouth and the words come out. “Baby, I’ve been waiting. Waiting for you.”

  I don’t know a damn thing about her. At least, I don’t know things that don’t matter. Her name. Where she lives. All I know is that she has somehow ignited that fire in me again.

  A couple of the roadies hurry onstage to throw her off the stage. But I cut them off. There’s no fucking way she’s going anywhere.

  She’s my angel. My siren. My salvation. And I’ve never even spoken to her.

  Our connection goes deeper than words.

  Everyone but my angel fall away as the song’s lyrics tumble out of my mouth and the throbbing beat pounds through my body. Her cool blue eyes, so wide, so full of fucking innocence never leave mine. This song is hers. And the next. The whole set. She never leaves my side. And the music keeps flowing. Easy. Like it once did.

  Suddenly I hear them all. The people down there. The echo of their screams. But I don’t hate them now. I open my arms and let the music take a hold of me. It fills my chest, bellows out of my lungs and rockets to the far corners of the stadium. I am bigger than any man. I fill the whole building, every dark corner.

  And all because of her.

  The instant the last chord rings out, I grab her wrist. She can’t leave me. Not tonight. Not ever. I’d thought my life was over. But I was wrong. It was just beginning.

  I pull her with me, backstage. She follows silently. We weave between throngs of fans waving backstage passes and busy roadies hauling equipment, preparing to tear down the set.

  I need to get her alone. Somehow.

  The dressing room is out. There will be dozens of girls there, hand-picked by the roadies and band members, giddy, young, stupid, thinking they’ll be the next Mrs. Angus or Jimmy. Stupid bitches don’t know those boys won’t ever settle on just one.

  That was me, too. Fucking my way through stadiums full of pussy. Until it got boring and I gave it up.

  My dick has decided it wants a good, hard fuck now, though. And I’m tempted to give it what it wants. As soon as I can find somewhere where I can be alone with my angel.

  We head to the loading dock. The truck’s parked, back doors yawning wide, waiting for the gear. We hurry down the steps and outside, to the idling limo parked nearby. A small pack of die-hard fans shout and wave t-shirts and programs at me but I ignore them, pushing my angel into the car.

  Silence. At last we have silence.

  “Where are we going?” she asks as she adjusts her wings so she can sit beside me. Her voice is light, sweet, and high-pitched. I could listen to that voice forever.

  “Take us to the hotel,” I tell the driver as I press my leg against hers. A shock of lust rages through me, and my dick gets harder. I grit my teeth. I haven’t wanted a pussy this bad in years.

  It’s dark. The car’s interior illuminates strobe-style as we cruise past evenly spaced streetlights. I can’t get a good look at my angel. I want to see every inch of her. The smooth ivory skin on her abdomen and thighs. The pretty pink, pebbled nipples. The folds of her cunt, glistening with her juices.

  I set my hand on her knee. Is it my imagination or is it trembling a little. I glance down but it’s too dark to tell.

  “Are you nervous, baby?”

  She nods. “I’ve…I’ve never done anything like this. I’m not the one-night-stand kind of girl,” she confesses.

  Who says it’ll be one night?

  The thought nearly knocks me on my ass. I have never wanted to spend more than one night with a woman.

  That’s it. Something’s wrong with me. Brain tumor? Hormone imbalance? What the fuck is going on?

  “Of course you are,” I tell her as I slowly work my hand up her smooth thigh. The head of my dick is wedged against my belt, and it hurts like hell. But in a good way. It’s rock hard and ready to slam home the instant I get her panties off.

  Fuck it. I can’t wait.

  I call the driver. “Keep driving until I tell you to stop.” Then I
slide my hand home, under the skirt that barely covers her ass, cupping her hot sex through her soaking panties.

  She shudders and clamps her knees together, trapping my hand over her moist heat but not allowing it to explore further.

  Fuck, now I have to have her.

  “Easy, baby.” I use my trapped wrist to anchor one thigh and gently push her other knee out. I swear I can smell her need. It’s so fucking sweet my mouth waters. “I won’t bite.”

  She quivers and relaxes her thighs, allowing me to open them a little wider.

  “That’s it. Yes, baby. Let me take away that burn.” I graze her folds with the tip of a finger and am rewarded by a precious little whimper.

  Damn, she’s acting like she’s never been touched.

  Has she? Fuck, am I playing with jailbait?

  I hadn’t considered the possibility that she might be underage until now. She’s acting too skittish, too inexperienced. I’d be the first to admit I’m a first class asshole. I’ve fucked more women than I care to count. I’ve whispered promises of gifts and even love to get into their pants. But never have I touched a kid.

  I yank my hands away. Both of them. “Baby, how old are you?”

  “Twenty…three?”

  Shit. She’s lying. “The truth. Is your mama going to have me arrested for seducing her high school cheerleader daughter?”

  “Okay, I’m twenty. That’s the truth. I go to Eastern. I’m a junior. Studying graphic design.”

  Twenty. I have a fucking twenty year old, innocent as fuck college girl in my car. She was in a crib when I cut my first album. But she’s legal. I’m good. I’m better than good. I’m great. So is my dick. It wants this twenty-year-old cunt. I can only guess how tight she’ll be. Gauging from her reaction when I hook my fingers in the crotch of her panties, I’m guessing she hasn’t done a whole lot of fucking in her twenty years.

  “I’m…”

  “What, baby?” I ask, as I pull the soggy fabric aside. Her panties are so wet they tear from the slight tug. No big deal. I’ll buy her a new pair. I’ll get her a hundred new pairs. The tip of my finger slides into her hot center but hits a roadblock.

  She whimpers again.

  She’s a virgin. A fucking virgin.

  I’ve never had a virgin. Not even when I was in high school. Not even when I was a virgin. Back then I went with the path of least resistance, so to speak. I knew who put out. We all did. Those were the girls I spent my time with. There wasn’t any reason to mess with the others. They were too complicated, too much work.

  Though now I look at this situation in a different light.

  Now I’m older. I can lead this girl on a journey. Teach her what sex should feel like. I won’t fumble like a twelve-year old or come in my pants just from looking at her…I don’t think. Then again, just being with her makes me feel twenty years younger. And alive. Really fucking alive.

  “Baby, I’m going to make you so happy you jumped on that stage today,” I vow, adding, silently, and make you happy to stay in my bed forever. “Let’s play a game.”

  She has no idea what she’s in for.

  That pussy is mine. Only mine.

  Chapter 2

  Cole

  My balls are about to explode. Really. They’re so tight I have to grit my teeth. But I know I can’t take my baby yet. I’m going to let her set the pace. I’ll just give her a little encouragement along the way. And who knows? Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two from her.

  “What kind of game?” she asks as she grinds against my hand. That fear and uncertainty in her voice sure hasn’t spread to the rest of her. That tight little body is saying bring it on! And my dick hears it loud and clear.

  “It’s naughty to want me to touch you like this, isn’t it? Dirty. Bad. And you aren’t a dirty girl, are you?”

  She shakes her head, even as a tiny glimmer of wicked lust glitters in her pretty eyes.

  “You’ve been taught sex is for bad girls, dirty girls, whores. Am I right?”

  She nods.

  “But secretly you want this. Even if you’re ashamed to admit it. So I’m going to make it into a game. You tell me ‘no’. Whenever, and as often as you want. And I’ll make you say yes. Does that sound like a fun game?”

  Her eyes widen. Her full, lush lips pout slightly, a welcome to taste. “Okay.”

  Forcing myself to stop fingering her slit, I comb my fingers through her hair. It’s long, a tumble of smooth, silky waves that reach to her mid-back. I want to feel it dragging down my chest. I will feel it dragging down my chest, cascading over my stomach, feathering over my hard cock.

  Soon. Very soon.

  I lift a strand to my nose and inhale. Its sweet, fruity scent fills me, fogging my mind. My cock shoves harder against my belt. How the fuck am I going to do this without going completely bat-shit-crazy? I know the instant I’m inside that crazy-tight cunt of hers that I’ll completely lose control. I’ll fuck her mercilessly, pound that pussy and mark it as mine.

  “You smell good.”

  “It’s watermelon,” she tells me in a soft, shy voice. “My shampoo.” She’s pinned her knees together again, playing her role perfectly.

  I curl my fingers into a fist and tug, forcing her to come to me. Then I trace her lower lip with my tongue. She’s as sweet tasting as she is sweet smelling.

  A little mewling sound slips from between her lips, and I swallow it, sealing my mouth to hers. She places a trembling hand on my shoulder, putting just the slightest pressure. A silent, tentative no as her tongue tangles with mine.

  Her yes-and-no, stop-and-don’t game is driving me crazy. I’m going to have just as much fun with this as she will. I deepen the kiss, drinking in her flavor and committing it to memory. I want to taste her forever. More importantly, I don’t want any other bastard to have this sweet, decadent, delicious perfection.

  It’s mine. All mine and only mine.

  I break the kiss by yanking her head back by the hair. She moans and I swallow a groan of need too. That long, slender column of skin is mine to taste. I drag my tongue down it then work my way back up to her ear. But the hoop piercing her lobe is in my way.

  “Your earring. Take it out. Take them both out. Give them to me.”

  Her hands shake as she pulls at the first one. Her eyes are locked on mine, her lips parted slightly in that sexy semi-pout that any sucker would fall for.

  It’s a wonder she has remained untouched. She has no idea the power she holds over me…over anyone with a dick.

  She hands me the earrings and I open the window and throw them outside. She lets go with a little strangled squeak of protest.

  They’re damn earrings. Cheap ones. I’ll buy her a fucking truckload. But they won’t be spray-painted steel. They’ll be diamond, gold, platinum.

  “They weren’t go enough for you,” I tell her as I nip her earlobe.

  She quivers but doesn’t say a word. Her fingers curl, lightly clawing at my shoulder now. The other rakes down my chest, fingernails digging at my clothes. I bite that little flap of skin lightly and she whimpers, wriggling away from me. “Please.”

  She begs so pretty. But I don’t need her begging yet. I need her fighting me.

  I grab her hands and force them away, planting them against the seatback. The space fills with the soft husk of our quickened breaths and the scent of lust. “I’m going to rip your clothes off and lick away every drop of cream dripping from your pussy.” I tell her.

  Her eyes widen. She tugs on her wrists, knees clamped tightly together. “No. I…”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t want me to, don’t want my tongue fucking your sweet little cunt, don’t want me to suck that hard little pearl of yours until you scream in agony.” I grab the bottom of her top and shove it up until it’s bunched under her chin. “And then I’m going to drive my big cock into you and fuck you again and again and again.

  Her eyes widen as she realizes I mean to do exactly as I say. She jerks back and yanks her shirt
down. “I need to go.” She’s breathing hard, tits rising and falling fast. Her face is flushed, a pretty shade of pink staining her cheeks, neck, ears.

  She’s burning up. Scared. Thrilled. And so desperate for my touch that she’s shocked.

  “Need to go where, baby?” This time I tear her top right down the center. “Tell me. Do you need to go home to Mom and Dad?” She’s wearing a prim bra that covers too much of her tits so I reach behind her back. She slams backward, pinning my arm between the seat and her luscious little body.

  “Home. Yes. I made a mistake,” she says. “I don’t want to play your game anymore.”

  “So you say. But your body tells me something else. Are you lying?” To illustrate, I flick a fingernail over her nipple, poking at the cotton fabric cup. “You see?” I do it again and she arches her back, lifting her breasts. “So you are lying! You don’t want your first time to be with some stupid, groping, drunk boy who doesn’t even know how to make you cum, let alone care to.” I bite that hard little nipple through her bra, and she drops her head back and groans. “That’s what I thought.” I push the fabric down and scoop out a handful of lush tit. “Damn, you’re perfect.” I pull her nipple into my mouth, suckling hard while she shivers and quivers and writhes, fighting her own body’s demands. She wants me. She wants to be mine.

  After doing the same to the other breast, I permit myself to venture lower. I taste her stomach, enjoying the play of muscle under the smooth, velvety skin as her abs clench tight. This time when I reach the waist of her skirt, I unfasten it and slowly slide it down her hips, feasting on the sight of her pretty (ripped) panties and the mound beneath. Even with her knees clamped together, I can smell her need. My mouth waters.

  “Open up baby. Let me see what’s mine.” I push against her knees, easing them apart. “Yes, that’s the way.”

  Damn, that is the world’s most perfect pussy. It’s smooth and glistening and ready for my cock. As much as my dick wants to claim it, I can’t. Not yet, even though just looking at that wet flesh has me nearly cumming in my pants. I’m afraid I might lose it when I take my first taste. But I can’t stop myself. I have to taste her. More than I have to breathe.