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

  “They’re gonna be fine Jake. This is how house cats mate. These guys are just bigger.”

  She turned her head, smiling, surprised by Jake’s reaction. She seldom saw him nervous and even more rarely, uncertain. Exuding self-confidence from every pore, independence with every exhalation, Jake’s seeping aura of self-assurance and war torn wisdom seldom pierced, hardly ever laying bare the sheath of vulnerability beneath. Big cats transcended his range however and here and only here he was forced subserviently into Amanda’s world. He stepped up close behind her, so close she could feel his uneven breath on her neck and cheek, grasping her shoulder. Whispering.

  “Can you break ’em up if they start fighting too seriously?”

  She glanced at him, smirking, “They are serious Jake but yes, I can break them up.”

  Before he could ask how, chaos erupted once more as Morocco, never taking his intent amber eyes off Kontikki, stood, hanging his majestic head over her.

  “Time’s up bitch,” Jake sighed, his voice gravelly-sweet. Then Kontikki rolled and Morocco pounced.

  The noise was deafening as the huge cats battled once again for Kontikki’s virtue, Morocco for its vanquishment and Kontikki for its preservation. Clasped in a monstrous death roll embrace, the warring lovers twisted, gnashed and sliced, each intent on victory regardless of price.

  Amanda stood motionless, intent, alternately rooting for each combatant in her heart. Jake shifted uneasily behind her. In awe, fascinated by the cats’ brutal sexuality and Amanda’s inaction, he knew he’d be afraid to do anything in her shoes. He knew too that Amanda’s lack of intervention was based on self-control, an internal gauging mechanism she’d honed around her big cats, one she pointedly lacked when it came to him, maybe one she didn’t even want in his circumstance.

  A twinge of jealousy pierced his heart and he moved closer to her. He easily controlled Amanda yet his dominion reigned extraneous to the inexplicable bond she shared with her big cat companions. She obeyed and loved him obsessively but her heart, her soul, were given celibately on a level he’d never been able to rival, or even fully comprehend, to her feline paramours.

  Suddenly, catching both Jake and Amanda off guard, Kontikki made her final stand, erupting violently, lunging forward biting and slashing at Morocco’s face with all her essence. Then remarkably, with as much passion as she’d mustered for battle, she acquiesced, sleekly lying down with a grunt in front of him, then sprawling on her back to show him it was done. Remarkably the adversarial lovers emerged without serious injuries, only slightly matted fur, minor scratches and gashes trickling blood here and there. The prenuptials were over.

  Jake groaned quietly, pressed up tightly behind Amanda, and sighed. “Let the real games begin,” his voice urgent, soft and raspy-sweet, delivered by hot breath to her ear.

  Searing through her like an errant bolt of lightning, Jake’s words scorched deep. Games for the tigers or for us Amanda suddenly wondered, instantly feeling her blood boil and heart race. She spun to face him, grasping his strong arms below his shoulders, but he merely looked down at her innocently and smiled.

  “What?” he whispered, laughing. The bastard knew but played the game.

  Words crumbling in her throat, Amanda moaned softly, yearning to grab him, pull him to her, to grasp his hair, his strong shoulders, and melt into his muscled chest. It had been so goddamn long since she’d seen him, a year and a half from their final incident to his trial, but not a day, scarcely a moment had gone by when she hadn’t thought of him, ached for his presence, his voice and his arrogant touch.

  She looked into his eyes, so fixating, commanding. Beguiling portal to his sweetly tortured soul. Jesus, he’s finally here was all that she could think, breathless. A virulent, carnal dark knight materializing on a commandeered white horse, trespassing where he shouldn’t tread, conquering all the same.

  Her breath caught in her throat and the room spun. For a moment, she was barely aware of the unfolding action ten feet from her. Kontikki purring, moaning, lounging on her belly, butt raised and sleek tail straight up in the air. Morocco grunting, growling low and imposing under his breath, easing forward to straddle and prepare to mount her, his massive paws delicately padding the ground at each of her sides. Seizing her neck with brutal force that set her yowling. Then entering her adeptly, majestically, claiming his right.

  Jake watched the huge cats with renewed respect and admiration. “You’re gonna get those babies you always wanted,” he murmured softly, winked and smiled.

  His smile transfixed her but rather than imbuing her with joy or comfort, it brought her only pain. At times they’d discussed babies, the human kind, and aside from wanting big cat offspring of her own breeding she’d wanted nothing more than to make babies with Jake, to give him at least one child, his own blood to love unconditionally, be proud of, to stand aside him in everything he’d created and worked for, to eternalize his legend and his name. This seemed unattainable at the moment, its impossibility a stabbing pain in the center of her chest. She gazed lovingly at her cats, at least they’d attained binding kinship. She looked up at Jake and forced a smile.

  “More babies to bottle feed and burp who throw up on you,” he smirked. So mischievous and warm.

  “Yeah well, that’s OK,” she retorted. “I’m good with babies, remember?”

  Jake had been around to watch her raise Kontikki, purchased from an animal wrangler colleague when she was just three days old, pulled straight out of the den she shared with her mom and siblings and placed in Amanda’s waiting arms. Standing next to her, Jake had been mesmerized with the tiny mewling striped baby, captivated with the cub’s delicate balance of sturdy chubbiness and newborn fragility. Her eyes still closed in her little round striped head, she’d looked so helpless and innocent to Jake that he’d had a hard time picturing her at full size.

  Her mother, Taboo, was a movie cat, starring in several major motion pictures, television commercials and had made appearances on some of TV’s most popular shows. Her owner, Tyler Cassidy, often worked with Amanda, engineering and training the stunts and tricks that made Beast Mistress such a huge success. He’d joked with them when placing Kontikki in Amanda’s arms, “Here’s your new mommy and daddy” and Amanda had laughed and smiled but Jake, still in awe, merely gasped and muttered “Wow...”

  Amanda loved this side of him, the innocence that remained despite his catastrophic childhood, life struggling on the streets and later, his decadent, mercurial climb to a surreal sort of immortality, legendary rock stardom and fame. Another of his baby big cat encounters hadn’t left him so enchanted but it had provided the beginnings of his education about the realities of interacting with these beautiful but dangerous beasts.

  He’d been sleeping peacefully in Amanda’s bed early one morning when she’d brought in Mohan, her then five month old Barbary African lion. Jake loved him because of his especially affectionate nature and was looking forward to him growing up, in expectation of his unique black mane. Mohan, hand raised like all of Amanda’s cats, had long graduated from milk to meat but still received his bottle as a treat and instrument of bonding. Jake played with Mohan, watched him feed, and then the cub, satiated and lazy, settled down in the corner of the large sunlit bedroom to nap.

  One thing led to another, as it usually did with Amanda and Jake, and soon they were going at it, steamy and heavy on the canopy bed. Lying beneath him, her legs spread wide and lost in her own heated world, Amanda was oblivious of everything but Jake who was pumping her for all he was worth.

  “Oh my God, you feel so good!” she was screaming as she dug her nails into his back. Already drenched with sweat, he labored on, tossing his head and long dripping hair to clear his vision. That, of course, did it. Amanda, always so insanely turned on by Jake’s long hair and his sweat went ballistic, screaming even louder than before.

  “Jake, oh God, deeper...Do it hard...”

  Then it happened. Mohan, who was already remarkably well-traine
d (Amanda and Tyler referred to him as bomb proof) stood. He was ordinarily well accustomed to mom and dad playing on the bed and making lots of noise but this time something was wrong, or so he thought. Mom was louder. Or maybe this particular game was so energetic he couldn’t bear to miss out on all the fun. Whatever the case, Amanda obviously couldn’t ask him afterwards, he eyed the wrestlers and then pounced.

  Amanda merely felt the flick of his long tail - it snapped against her cheek and into the corner of her eye - but Jake got the worst of the 65-pound cub’s attack. Landing square on Jake’s back, Mohan sunk his claws and opened his mouth, grasping his neck. In sudden shock and pain, Jake collapsed onto Amanda, reaching behind him, elbowing her in the face as he yanked at Mohan’s large paws, attempting to pry his mouth loose and his claws from his skin. This didn’t help as Amanda struggled to get out from underneath to retrieve her cat. The whole incident lasted maybe a minute, probably less, but by the time she bopped Mohan sharply on the nose and grabbed his collar, guiding him off the bed, Jake was bleeding pretty good and in a lot of pain.

  “Down!” Amanda commanded and Mohan, his amber eyes still full of mischief, obeyed.

  “Oh my God Jake, are you OK?”

  Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Jake winced, sweeping his wet hair to the side. Blood oozed and trickled from deep gashes down his back, dripped slowly from the slash and bite across the right side of his neck. “Holy fuck,” he uttered in disbelief. He’d seen but never personally experienced the wild side of Amanda’s wild cats.

  Amanda jabbed the call button on her radio and within minutes Alvirez, one of her wildlife attendants, rushed in to take Mohan back to his cage. Then, hurrying from the adjoining bathroom with wet towels, she clambered onto the bed to take a better look at Jake’s wounds. Surprisingly he hadn’t gone into the bathroom and done so himself.

  “Oh fuck Jake, I’m so sorry. Mohan’s used to lots of commotion. He hasn’t done anything like this since he was just a few weeks old.”

  Jake turned to her, eyeing her suspiciously as she cleaned his injuries, “Come near me with a bottle of iodine and it’s pourin’ down your throat.”

  She sighed, gently brushed his still damp bangs from his eyes and kissed him softly on the cheek.

  “Don’t worry hun, I won’t hurt you.”

  His eyebrows arched. He glared at her evenly, leaning away.

  “No fuckin’ iodine or you die.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. Jake feared virtually nothing. Before escaping statutory boredom and stagnation in his Louisiana hometown, he’d been a juvie from the tender age of twelve. Shoplifting, vandalism, public drunkenness and assault. A whole lotta bullshit to leave town by. That, coupled with a drunken mother, string of physically and/or sexually abusive stepdads and a few “lost years” spent boozing, drugging, living and tricking the streets of Hollywood and downtown L.A. from the ripe old age of 17, had made Jake, born Wesley Richard Adams, remarkably tough and resilient.

  But, Amanda smirked, everyone had their limits.

  “Fine Jake, be a wuss. How ’bout Polysporin then?” She leaned into him, reached and turned his face towards her. “Hmmm, bad boy?”

  “This isn’t funny,” Jake sulked. “This really fuckin’ hurts. I could get an infection.”

  So sweet when he pouted. So vulnerable when he was in pain.

  “I know honey. I’m sorry.”

  He sighed, ran his hand through his long hair, still damp with sweat. His bangs fell back into his somber eyes.

  “If I were a lioness,” Amanda whispered, leaning closer, “I’d be licking my cub’s wounds clean.”

  Jake’s expression deepened. His eyes darkened, pinning her.

  “Hey your cub’s not the one injured,” he smirked, a wickedly boyish grin lighting his face. “It’s your man.”

  His gaze held her. His pain lured her. Jake held his breath in anticipation, then disbelief, as she leaned forward, casually swept his long wet hair aside, exposing his back, gently placed her hands at his waist and slowly traced her silken tongue along one of the worst of his wounds, just below his right shoulder. Ignoring her momentary thought, I can’t believe I’m doing this, Amanda continued, leisurely running her tongue back up the gash, insistently digging it a little deeper, devouring the oozing blood, licking her lips, licking his wound clean.

  “Jesus....” Jake squirmed away suddenly, as if the insanity of what she was doing was just now sinking in.

  “Are you fuckin’ crazy?!”

  His voice up about half an octave, his eyes wide and questioning. And then he smiled innocently, laughed sinfully. “Fuck. I always knew you wanted my soul but I never thought you’d literally drink my blood to take it...”

  His pensive green eyes teased. His smile aroused. His full, seductive lips beckoned.

  Amanda reached towards him, gently swept his long brown hair from his neck. “Afraid bad boy?”

  Leaning back, resting defiantly on his arms, head tilted so his long wet hair gently kissed and moistened the crumpled white satin sheets beneath them, Jake merely gazed at her steadily, unyielding.

  “Just when I thought I’m givin’ ya all you can handle you want more, huh?”

  His voice was soft, unwavering, even as his petulant eyes blazed and he skidded towards anger.

  “How bad you want my soul bitch?” he crooned roughly. Angry, maybe even a little amused.

  Stunned, Amanda couldn’t answer, could barely think. Was this really what she wanted deep down, underneath all the promises and devotion? She had him, she knew that; except for his recording and touring and her training and performing - and even then - they spent most of their time together.

  When he made love to her he bared his heart and soul. She’d never had a lover as intense, passionate and giving. They’d lain in bed for breakfast or supper, literally feeding each other, laughing like children playing house. They’d entangled, side by side, to watch a long movie, laughing when the scenes were funny, her squealing and hiding her head in his neck, beneath his hair, when monsters or serial killers slashed their victims apart. She’d cuddled and rocked him when, sobbing, he’d relived the pain of his childhood or some of his most hideous moments on the street. And he’d shielded and sheltered her when she couldn’t even bear to talk about her teenage years back in Texas. Wasn’t all this his soul?

  She slid closer, looked deep into his torrid eyes, and raised her hand, caressed his cheek gently and whispered, “I’m so happy with you Jake. As long as we’re together I don’t even care about anything else.”

  “Long as we’re together?” His brow furrowed and his eyes turned bleak.

  She sighed.

  “I mean you’re more important to me than anything else.”

  His eyes narrowed and he sat up, uncrossing his long muscular legs, stretching them out on the bed before him. He swept his hair back from his face and eyes and stared at her. No, stared inside her.

  “But I never give you enough...right?”

  “Jake...” she began but he stopped her, surprising her by getting up on his knees suddenly and leaning forward, tangling her long blonde hair into his hands as he yanked her head back, pressing his face into her neck, his hot breath smoldering against her skin.

  “You want my fuckin’ soul then I’m takin’ yours first bitch.” He sunk his teeth, hard, into the tender flesh of her neck.

  Pain pierced through her, an electrifying vice rendering her rigid and momentarily paralyzed, but then she clutched his shoulders, tore at his long hair, still wet and sleek and draping across her neck and breasts. His fervid bite and hot breath impaled her. His hunger consumed her and she thrashed and moaned until he slithered atop her, silencing her and smothering her movements.

  Amanda shuddered beneath him, numb from his weight, dizzy with the pain blazing from her neck into her shoulder and crazed by her thoughts. Jake’s really gone insane this time, she thought, and then remembered she’d just licked his wounds and drank his blood. Maybe they wer
e both as crazy as the media said. How fucking far would Jake take it this time, she wondered, realizing her soul wasn’t even in question; he couldn’t really take what he already had.

  He released her suddenly, sitting up on his knees and glaring down at her, his hair damp, hanging into his burning eyes, plastered to his face, his neck, his sweat-glistened chest and further, down into her own heated face. A zillion thoughts shoved words to her throat but none escaped her. Dazed, Amanda merely raised her trembling hand to her neck, acutely aware of the shooting pain in her shoulder and then, the seething blood oozing from the incomprehensible bite, raw and stinging in her neck. Jake smiled serenely, his eyes reflective and aware.

  “Consider yourself lucky,” his voice soft and hypnotic. “About ten million girls wanna give me their soul.”

  Chapter 4

  Then, and later, observing Kontikki and Morocco’s courtship and hanging with Jake in the steamy confines of her tiger house, Amanda was keenly aware how selflessly, easily, she rendered her soul to Jake, over and over again. Whether he wanted it or not, it was always there to him for the taking. She moved closer, till their bodies touched, till their exhalations mingled, until she felt his long soft hair caressing her cheek as she leaned gently into him and looked up into his enticing green eyes. So troubled. So much on his mind.

  She whispered softly, “So wild boy, how’s it feel to be the only beast I couldn’t tame?”

  He laughed, cocky and arrogant. He knew. He always fucking knew.

  “Hmmm...” Deeper in thought than she’d guessed the question commanded. He gazed at her, his look exploring. His eyes delving. His full, sensual mouth open slightly in anticipation of his answer. Arching an eyebrow, he asserted softly, “You’re assuming you tried to tame me. You really sure about that?”

  Her throat went dry. With the tigers gently moaning and chuffing in the background Amanda struggled to gather her thoughts. Jake had a way of cutting through the bullshit, grabbing her heart and shredding her soul bare. Gentle this time in his revelation, he smiled down at her, his brilliant green eyes alight with reminiscence and memories. No threat. Just a question. Honesty floated between them like a shimmering veil.