Twisted Rhythm: A Dark Rockstar Romance (Twisted Rhythm Series Book 1) Read online

  As they’d sat on the edge of the bed kissing, Christ she’d convincingly run her fingers through his hair and even forced herself to slip him her tongue, he’d started really getting into it, losing himself in the moment, kissing her deeper and hard, and then it happened. He’d suddenly leapt up, clutched his chest and blurted, “I can’t fuckin’ breathe!”

  Frozen in shock for a moment, Amanda didn’t know what to do. Shit, this couldn’t be happening! She’d pictured calling 911, paramedics storming in followed closely by Jake who’d been disturbed by the commotion a few doors down. No way, she’d screamed inside her head, no way was Zack having some sort of heart attack! Not on her watch, not when things were already so fucked up, not when she’d just been thinking how the hell do porn stars do this shit with people they’re not even attracted to and not throw up! Not when Jake would find her in the very worst of circumstances and this time she’d surely pay intolerably for something she hadn’t actually done!

  She’d rushed to Zack, put a comforting hand on his shoulder and led him back to the bed to sit down.

  “Relax. Relax Zack, you’re OK.”

  But he wasn’t. Eyes wide and petrified, he’d struggled to breathe, gasping, his chest heaving. Not knowing what else to do, not wanting to call absolutely anyone for help under any circumstances, she’d held him. Like a child who’d hurt himself playing, like a child terrified of imaginary ghosts in the closet down the hall. And then she’d realized. He’d upset himself by playing with her and if that hadn’t been enough to scare the living shit out of him, the ghost, in this case the monster, down the hall was Jake. Zack wasn’t dying. He wasn’t anywhere remotely close to cardiac arrest. He was simply scared out of his wits.

  Just my wonderful luck she’d thought but instantly feeling sorry for him, he was such an unassuming nice guy, she’d held him closer. Talked him back to safety and reality. Assured him that he was just nervous and they could forget about this, go back to just being friends. Jake would never know, she’d told him, and insisted that everything would be all right. Finally, after a tense few minutes, his breathing had slowed and returned to normal. He’d lain down to rest at her urging and she’d lain next to him to keep him calm, keep him sane, and to discuss what happened.

  “Amanda?”

  Dear God, don’t let him say anything dumb.

  “Uh, now that we’ve, you know, been together, d’ya think we can see each other again?”

  It was all she could do not to scream.

  “We haven’t actually been together Zack and I haven’t even left yet.”

  Zack squirmed, looking childishly confused, but gazed at her intently as she lay on his bed leisurely sprawled on her back.

  “Ah, I know. But I mean after you leave. Can I see you again?”

  No shit that’s what you meant.

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  Not in a trillion years, unless Jake really deserves it and I can live through this hell again. But who was she kidding? This had been a major mistake. Even before his anxiety attack, before she was kissing him, even as she cleverly seduced him into a kiss at the door, the pangs of guilt and trepidation threatened to overpower her. Slivers of reality and rational thought had begun to entwine their way into her thoughts and soul and it had taken all her anger and pain to continue hurling herself down this particular path of destruction. It wasn’t so much that she was cheating on Jake, she’d done that once before with Wade. It was that she was committing the ultimate act of betrayal and disrespect on his turf, in his world. Wade had been part of hers.

  Suddenly feeling incredibly naked, even though she still wore the donated godawful second hand leggings, she pulled up the sheet, covering her breasts as she stood and headed for her bra and Zack’s shirt tossed on the floor.

  “Where ya goin’?”

  Although feeling almost guilty cringing at his voice, she realized she owed him nothing, much less any sort of explanation.

  “Gettin’ dressed.”

  Despite everything he risked by being with her, by even helping her find clothes, he was nothing more than her accomplice. He was her co-conspirator in treachery, her accessory in treason. That he probably truly cared for her meant nothing. Backstabbers, and Amanda had a shitload of experience with these types of traitors from as far back as Conroy, could never be seriously trusted. This insurgent had betrayed Jake, and as hypocritical as it seemed even to her in that moment, she couldn’t help but regard him as dangerous trash. But she needed an ally within Jake’s camp. So she turned and smiled sweetly at him as she headed to the bathroom to re-dress and simply asked him to book her a new flight.

  Walking quickly down the hallway to the elevator a short time later, Amanda adjusted her clothes, the ridiculous leggings and Zack’s white shirt. I’m gonna burn this damn outfit she thought as she jabbed the elevator down button and waited for her descent into another shot of hell. For sure the paparazzi would be waiting, in the lobby if The Nines security was lax, outside every exit door of the hotel if they were even semi-concerned with the privacy of their guests. But like a familiar kick to the groin she remembered, she wasn’t a guest here, Jake was. She’d simply been a guest of a guest, discarded like some sort of spent concubine, replaced with a fresher, untapped model.

  The innocuous chime of elevator doors opening signaled Round Two. Round One hadn’t gone so well and she was off and running into what she knew was sure defeat. Even before the doors finished separating the first camera was in her face. Then another and another and she quickly lost count. The photographers were everywhere, the Steel Demon fans claimed spaces where the paparazzi weren’t. They raised their cell phones eagerly. The noise of hurled questions, breathless acclamations and unbridled cheers was deafening. It was a free for all. She lowered her head, viewing stampeding feet and jostling bodies as she tried to make her way through the lobby to the exit doors. Why the fuck wasn’t anyone helping her? Where the goddamn hell was hotel security? Jesus, why hadn’t she thought of putting on her sunglasses?

  Where’s Jake, Amanda? Are you and Jake back together? What’s Jake think about Heart of Steel? You gonna write another book? Jake gonna be at the premiere of your new Beast Mistress show?

  She wanted to scream, shriek really, for everyone to just shut the fuck up. Instead, the paparazzi and fans added salt to her already festering wounds. The heat in the lobby was smothering from the raucous crowd and she battled to the front exit, smashing away a camera only inches from her sweating face. She saw the doormen generously holding glass doors open for her and she jostled her way outside, to an even larger helping of chaos than she’d enjoyed within.

  Amanda, is Jake with you?

  Does it look like it motherfucker, she longed to scream but kept silent, struggling to keep an aloof look on her face. Cabs lined the esplanade, drivers rushed to fling open their cabs’ doors. Fighting her way to the closest one, she purposely jabbed a photographer in the ribs and was rewarded by another quickly maneuvering to take his place. As the taxi driver sternly shoved the fans and press aside she slithered into the vehicle’s temporary haven and the driver slammed its door. Unrelenting cameras, more cell phones, pressed against the windows even as the driver ran to take his place up front. Panting, hungering for air, she resolutely stared forward, remaining motionless until the car sped off into safety.

  “Where to Miss Wilder?”

  Just wonderful, he knew who she was.

  “Airport.”

  Despite repeated glances in his rearview mirror, the driver remained quiet. Must not be new to the business, Amanda guessed, and thanked God and all the angels for his experience and restraint at staying silent. Don’t speak until you’re spoken to, her mother’s grating voice, a caustic memory out of nowhere – where the hell did that come from?! - invaded her brain. She cringed and curled herself lower in the seat for the long and defeating ride to Portland International Airport.

  The blur of surrounding traffic, stores, restaurants and seemingly carefree pe
ople meandering the streets mirrored the haze in her mind. Nothing stood still. Her thoughts, striking in fragments, were nonsensical, vaporous, dismally distorted and eerily surreal. Fluctuating emotions battered her in waves, intertwining as she weakly, desperately, tried to make sense of them, of her feelings and current disparaging situation and renewed embarrassment and scandalous downfall.

  Why was this happening, again? Why couldn’t absolutely anything ever work out between her and Jake!? Dear God, she closed her eyes, please, please just make this all better. Please make Jake love me, miss me, make him wonder where I am right now, make him want me to come back. Make him want to be with me again. Please, please God make him call.

  But of course, deep inside, she already knew why things were turning out this way, why her prayers were going unanswered and why she was probably the furthest thing from Jake’s mind right now. If he was thinking about her at all, and that was a longshot, his thoughts and memories were anything but good. And he was even less likely to call.

  What had she really expected? Was Jake supposed to be thrilled about her book? Jumping for joy that as she wrote about spreading her legs for him that she was also baring her soul, and his. Fuck, had she seriously deluded herself into thinking that he’d be ecstatic to see her after all these years despite the lurid, gut-wrenching events, including their “final incident,” his arrest and trial and torturous, eruptive goodbye at her tiger house which led to Heart of Steel in the first place?

  Had she really been hoping that seeing her, talking with her, spending time with her, would actually change things? Change his mind. Weaken his will. Permeate the steel wall he’d erected against her. Rock his world and ignite the explosive spark for her within his soul, between his legs and within his heart.

  She gasped sharply at the fresh memories. Jake furiously arching her backwards, his long locks against her cheek as he raged, his lips touching hers. Wanna hit me bitch? His fiery green eyes depthless and solemn as he towel dried water dripping off her breasts. His muscular, tattooed arms sweeping her up and carrying her. This is what you want. Pushing down his tight jeans. Ferociously, deliciously, exploding in her mouth as she drank eagerly, swallowing and basking in the comfort of his sticky-salty warmth. Then later, Jake’s fury and pain, biceps taut and muscles rippling, as he crawled towards her on the bed. Wade doesn’t seem like such a good idea now, does he? Then finally, the wicked double ecstasy born out of pleasure and pain as Jake rode her. ...A glorious reminder...about the one you threw away.

  “No!” she screamed. Oblivious of her surroundings, her public persona and long-sought hard-won status. Franticly raking her silky long blonde hair away from her tear-filled eyes, she realized her fingers were trembling. Her breath assailed her in choking gasps.

  “Miss Wilder?”

  Christ!

  “I’m OK, I’m fine. Sorry.”

  Even as she struggled to regain control of herself, or at the very least control over her public image, she could feel her insides being ripped apart. Her stomach ached. Her head was throbbing. She was shaky, weak and disoriented from recent events. Unendurable pain lashed at her from every angle, assaulting her every sense.

  She could feel Jake, his skillful, alternately smooth then arrogant touch. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, still smelling his cologne and the raw, ripened scent of his sexuality and sweat. His perspiration as he beat her, laid her, then nearly beat her again. Dear God, she licked her lips, and could taste what remained of him there.

  You’re gonna need a friend. His voice melodic, sensuously raspy-sweet, comforting, welcoming, as magnetizing as any vampire’s succulent kiss of death. The inescapable rapturous sight of him jaggedly carved deep within her soul. Tall, lean, perfectly toned muscular body. His wickedly enchanting looks enhanced by his light goatee, luscious full lips, high cheek bones, sensuous long light brown hair flowing down his shoulders and back and wispy bangs draping tantalizingly into his fiery, magnetizing green eyes. And tattoos gracing his shoulders, arms and right leg and thigh.

  Hugging herself tightly, then slowly running her hands along her arms, down her body and along her trembling legs, she longed to feel him on her, in her, as he’d been such a very short time ago. But now, like an elusive, carnal ghostly demon, he was gone, out of her grasp, out of her sight but entrenched firmly within her exploding mind.

  “Which airline Miss Wilder?”

  Roughly jolted back to reality, Amanda saw they were nearing the airport. She answered him just as her cell rang. Heart thrashing, she fumbled for it in her purse, knowing it probably wasn’t Jake but briefly, desperately, clinging to the miniscule shred of hope that just maybe, maybe it was.

  Katelyn. Of course. She’s got the worst timing of anyone I know, Amanda groaned, and took the call.

  “What Kat? I don’t need a zillion calls to know you wanna reach me!”

  “Is Jake with you?” Katelyn pushed her own irritation aside, forcing herself to do her job. No matter how difficult Amanda makes it, she commended herself.

  “Fuck, you the goddamn paparazzi now?!”

  “No Amanda, just wanna tell you something and wondered if you’re alone.” She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes and waited for the backlash.

  But Amanda was too exhausted to argue, almost too defeated to even care what was going on.

  “Just tell me.”

  Katelyn hesitated a moment, afraid Jake might be by Amanda’s side.

  “Kat! What?!”

  “There’s loads of paparazzi prowlin’ round here, copters in the air and everything, ever since Jake’s tweets. And it’s Wade. He’s challenged Jake on Facebook. I’ll send you the link right now.”

  Jesus! Amanda’s blood ran cold. Wade. Just who she needed to fuck things up more than they already were. Why was this idiot always sickeningly enmeshed within their problems? Damn! She hated herself for it but knew the answer. She’d seduced him in, entangled him within the web of their licentious, chaotic, raunchy world. Fuck! Couldn’t the moron grasp the meaning of one night stand? She’d told him he meant nothing to her romantically, buffering her rejection with the lie that they were just friends. They weren’t even that, really. In reality they were nothing at all.

  We have a history, he’d reminded her, the contemptuous morning after their impulsive play date in Conroy, and again, shortly after Heart of Steel came out. He was wondering why she hadn’t revealed their most recent illicit encounter, their degenerate past. Nothing but crap in our history and irrelevant bullshit at the Maple Leaf Motel she’d told him. She hadn’t even talked to him for half a year. Now here he was again, imposing himself into her life, intruding into Jake’s as if he had the right, much less the status, to be there. Damn him for his undeserved inflated ego!

  “Hurry Kat, send the link. I gotta do something about this right now!”

  “Would you like me to walk you inside?”

  Amanda jumped at the driver’s question, looking up to see the cab was close to pulling in to waiting chaos at the airport curb. Cameras and cell phones raised immediately as photographers and fans scrambled into place. Do these bottom feeders have x-ray vision? How can they possibly see I’m inside this approaching vehicle?

  “Yes please,” she sighed. “I’d really appreciate it...Gotta go Kat. Send that right now. Paparazzi’s swarming here too.”

  “Where are you?” Katelyn asked, flustered, but Amanda had already hung up.

  Whatever, she thought, and sent Amanda the link, wondering how Amanda was going to handle this new complication with Jake, realizing she had no clue, other than Jake’s tweets, how things had gone so far. Fuck, she told herself, the paparazzi probably know more than I do. Nice of you Amanda to keep your personal assistant informed. While a little part of her worried how Jake would react to Wade’s public taunt and how he’d take it all out on Amanda, another part of her, a simmering, seeping, expanding part, rationalized that Amanda would get just what she deserved.

  “Just give me a second,” Amanda
told the driver and, grabbing a small hand mirror from her purse, resolutely tried to fix her hair.

  Tangled and disarranged, it made her look like she’d just leapt from bed. She smiled, that’s just what I’d like everyone to think. Nevertheless, her public image was important; a huge part of the success of her Beast Mistress show. She quickly fluffed her hair, arranging her bangs and finger combing her long blonde locks to flow alluringly across her breasts. She took a deep breath. If Jake gave enough of a shit to view recent press he’d think she looked amazing, despite circumstances. Then, remembering Wade’s intrusion, she closed her eyes and shuddered. Circumstances were about to get much, much worse.

  Chapter 9

  Zack stood naked in front of the hotel’s bathroom mirror. He had no idea how long he’d been standing there, staring at himself like an idiot. Maybe it just seems like an eternity, he thought, but didn’t trust his instincts worth shit anymore. He didn’t trust himself anymore, period. How could he have been so incredibly stupid? What the fuck was I thinking, he leaned closer, asking himself out loud. I must be outa my mind, he told himself, finally turning away and grabbing for a towel to finish drying off after the longest shower he’d taken in his entire life.

  He’d been lying on the bed after Amanda’s departure, struggling to make sense of what happened, what he’d done, well, more specifically, what he’d tried to do, and what in the world had gotten into Amanda. But he didn’t kid himself for long.

  There’s nooooo waaaay she actually likes me, he forced himself to admit. I’m not even her type and besides, she’s so insanely into Jake. Everyone knows it. The whole fucking world knows it, for Christsake, and Jake and Amanda know it too. Whatever Jake had done to her this time, and that somehow ended off with the “piece of meat” Amanda told him was now in Jake’s room, had driven her into his arms, would have driven her headlong into his bed if he hadn’t been such a dipshit and panicked. But thank fuckin’ God I did, he said out loud.