Sex, Desires & Rock N Roll Read online

  “Let me get you away from here. Let me take you to dinner.” Dash’s voice chases away the unsolicited voice. “I want to spend as much time as I can with you before we go on tour. I need to, Sunshine.”

  “Don’t you need to head to the studio?” As much as I want to spend every possible moment with him, I don’t want to become a distraction. I don’t want to derail what he’s worked so far hard for, just like Roland said.

  “Studio or not, I am spending time with you.” Dash takes a step toward me.

  I push a wayward lock of hair behind my ear before meeting his intense gaze. “If you have to be at the studio… I think that would be best… I don’t want you to get in trouble with the guys or Roland.” Even though my voice is somewhat shaky, I put on a strong persona, something I’ve learned to do; something I had to do.

  “What’s going on here, Sunshine?” Dash’s eyes darken.

  I swallow, pushing back the lump that’s worked its way up into my throat. I go to let him know, but before I can utter one syllable, Dash’s finger silences my lips. “The truth.” His tone is stern and authoritative. His arms cross over his chest, making the muscles in his biceps tighten and flex. My eyes flicker, and the neck opening of his shirt is askew and reveals a hint of lettering. A tattoo? I squint, trying to make out a letter or two when Dash clears his throat, bringing my attention back to his question.

  “Roland…” I begin but stop, trying to think of how to say what I need to without putting Roland in a bad light. I don’t want Dash to have any animosity toward his manager where I’m concerned.

  “Roland what, Sunshine?” Again his voice is stern, but behind it is concern.

  “Roland might have said that… that I could have the propensity to be a distraction and… and that’s not what you need right now with everything going on. So… so if you are needed in the studio, then I think that’s where you should be.” The words rush from my lips before I lose my nerve. As much as I want to be with him before he goes, I know his career needs to come first.

  Dash considers my words. My eyes drop to the floor. I don’t think I could handle seeing him actually say he’s going to the studio and will see me when he can if at all, before he leaves. I know I’m being silly, but I can’t help the emotions bouncing around inside. Dash does something to me, unleashes something I haven’t experienced in so long, if ever.

  Dash’s fingers gently grip my chin, lifting my head upwards so my eyes meet his. I want to look away, I need to look away, but he once again holds me captive with those piercing, steel-blue eyes. “First, I will be talking with Roland.” I go to interrupt him, but he silences me with a shake of his head. “Second, yes I have to be at the studio tonight, but it’s not for a few hours. Third, even if I needed to be there right this minute, it would wait because what I have before me is far more important.”

  “But…”

  “There are no buts. Not now, not ever. The sooner you understand that in that beautiful head of yours, we can save ourselves some time—precious time. And fourth, I need to be with you right now. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.” Cue the crooked-makes-me-melt smile. “So, would you like to get out of here and go to dinner with me?”

  I can’t help the smile that engulfs my lips. “I would love to.”

  “Perfect.” Dash claps his hands and then reaches for mine, intertwining our fingers together as we make our way to the exit.

  I HADN’T REALIZED the warehouse/rehearsal space was actually a converted space completely outfitted with a kitchen, full bathrooms, and a furnished bedroom. I waited for Dash in the game room—yep it has one of those too—while he was in the shower. Now I’m sitting in the back of a very large, very tinted black SUV. I hadn’t realized Dash needed a driver and a bodyguard to navigate the streets of Seattle to go to dinner. I mean, I know we had a limo when we left the after-party that first night, but it wasn’t like this. This is just further proof of not only my lack of knowledge of his world but that I simply don’t belong in it. What do I know about bodyguards and tinted SUVs—absolutely nothing. The ride has been quiet since we left. Dash seems lost in his thoughts. His fingers strum an unknown tune on his jean-clad knee. I have nothing to say to fill the void. I wish I did, then these insecurities I’m fighting against wouldn’t be running amok in my head. The car navigates the traffic-less streets, getting to our destination in no time. Relief washes over me. I peek over at Dash, and his fingers are still strumming against his knee with his eyes closed. His lips are moving, but there is no sound. Every so often his lips stop and twist and then start whispering only something he can again all over again. He’s fascinating to watch. The SUV comes to a stop. Glancing out the window, I thought I would see the diner—I figured that’s where we would be going—but instead we are idling in front of the new trendy and extremely popular restaurant, Plate. There’s been a buzz about the restaurant and its talented and rising star chef since it’s opening a few months ago. Hank has proposed doing an interview with the chef, but nothing has come of it. Apparently Chef Bec doesn’t have the time for such frivolous things. Hank said those were Beck’s exact words, not his.

  Russell gets out of the front seat and opens my door. I step out onto the sidewalk, the cool night causing goose bumps to erupt. His stature completely dwarfs me. I guess that’s why he’s a bodyguard. Dash comes from around the car, and his hand finds the small of my back. He leans down, and his lips find my ear. “Not where you thought I was taking you is it, Sunshine?”

  “No, I actually expected to be sitting in a vinyl booth eating a hamburger while a sweet older lady puts you in your place.” I try my best to come off confident and teasing. I’m not sure it comes off that way. It’s really hard to concentrate with Dash and his lips so close to me. He has a habit of making me forget. Forget how to breathe. Forget how to think. Just forget. I feel myself sway into him. His hand leaves the small of my back and wraps around my waist, pulling me closer to his hard, chiseled chest.

  “There’s only one woman I want putting me in my place right now.” His lips kiss that spot right behind my ear, and my knees go weak. A deep chuckle vibrates in his chest. Dash gives me a big smacking kiss on my neck before pulling away and slipping his hand in mine, leading me to the door of Plate. I feel Russell’s presence behind us. Dash answers my unasked question. “Don’t worry. You’ll have me all to yourself. Russell will be sitting at the bar.”

  We make our way inside. The restaurant is abuzz with the noises of chatter and clanging of silverware, an energy that emanates from all facets of it. The walls are light cream color, the lighting above hangs from exposed wood beams, casting a warm glow throughout the entire space. The deep, rich wood floors shine while tables decorated in white linens play against the dark fields. The space is warm and inviting. The aromas from the kitchen permeate the small space, tantalizing the senses. The place is full, not a seat empty. Various couples and parties stand in wait for their table. Dash approaches the hostess while Russell hovers nearby. “Reservations for Ford, party of two.” His voice is low and authoritative. The hostess turns her attention from the tablet in front of her. A loud gasp slips past her lips as her eyes widen. I guess she knows about Redemption.

  “M-Mr. Ford? Yes, party of two. Ummmm… ummmm… just a minute… sir.” She is flustered like I’ve never seen. I know the effect Dash has on me when he’s close or staring at me or singing or just being Dash, but I’ve never seen the effect he has on a complete stranger that wasn’t at his concert or the after-party the other night. The hostess whispers something to the unaffected gentleman standing next to her. He puts down his tablet and looks up, then talks into the mouth piece dangling from around his neck. Moments later another gentleman joins us.

  “Mr. Ford, it’s an honor to have you here. Please follow me.” The man smiles warmly while little-miss-all-excited tries to contain her enthusiasm. I can’t help but roll my eyes. I swear I’m witnessing Tracy in another form, swooning over a different rock star.

>   Dash and I follow the gentleman to a table in the back of the small space. It’s off in a corner, away from the other tables. It does offer some privacy. The gentleman goes to pull out my chair, but Dash beats him to it. I smile up at Dash and take my seat. Dash sits across from me. “Mr. Ford, my name is Paul, if you need anything, let me know. You’re server, Bridgette, will be here momentarily to take your drink order. Enjoy your evening.” Paul smiles and leaves us alone. I take in the room, and it’s beautiful. It’s definitely not the diner.

  Our server comes over to take our drink order, and thankfully she’s older than little-miss-all-excited and doesn’t react in any way to Dash, which puts me at ease. I know what I am, and I know what I’m not. But if our server fawned all over Dash, I don’t know if I would be able to cope with it. My insecurities lay just below the surface, and they have the propensity to make themselves known at the most inopportune time.

  After Bridgette leaves with our drink order, we both start looking at our meus. I am overwhelmed. Everything sounds delicious. From the Waygu steak tartare to the grilled Branzino. My mouth salivates at the possibilities. As I ponder my dinner choice, I get the sensation of being watched. Stared at, really. My heart rate accelerates, fluttering in my chest. My breathing alters. Instead of being leveled and calm, it begins to come out in short pants. A tingly sensation starts deep in my belly, bringing warmth spreading out like wildfire. I peer over my menu and find the source of the stare. Dash. His eyes are darker than their usual brilliant cerulean. They stare right into me, reaching deep into my soul. There’s a slight curve to his lips as his tongue peeks out to wet them. He drags it slowly back in, bringing it between his teeth in the process. My heart thunders in my chest. The tingly sensation intensifies, it’s warmth turning into a full-blown inferno scorching everything in its path. My lips part, his name escaping. I don’t recognize my own voice. It’s sultry and laced with a deep want and desire. Dash puts down his menu, his gaze burning into me. His eyes squeeze shut, and when they open, I see my want and desire reflected back. My mind scrambles trying to determine what brought on this intensity between us. Leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, Dash answers as if I expressed my thought out loud. “If you moan like that again, I’m going to take you to the restroom and slow is going out the fucking window because I will be buried so deep in you, you won’t know where I begin and you end, Sunshine.” His words are spoken deep and rough. I have to clench my thighs together to alleviate the deep throbbing his words have created.

  “And if you moan like that while reading a menu, I can’t wait to hear what it sounds like while I make you come. But like I said, slow, so…” His words linger in the air between us while he picks up his menu and continues to look at it as if what he just said hadn’t happened. Just as my brain comprehends and catches up so I can respond, Bridgette returns with our drinks. I quickly reach for my glass of merlot and take several huge sips—or gulps—of it. I can hear Dash let out a low laugh from behind his menu.

  “I’ve just been informed there’s no need for you to order from the menu tonight. Chef Bec is personally preparing a special menu for you tonight.” Bridgette informs us as she takes our menus, leaving us alone again.

  “I guess being you does have its perks.” I give Dash his words he gave me on our first date. I take another sip of my wine, quirking an eyebrow at him. I hide the smile overtaking my lips behind the burgundy liquid in my glass.

  Reaching for his beer, he takes a sip and then places it back down, all the while his eyes never leave mine. “There’re a lot of perks when it comes to me.” He challenges me back with a heated, gleam in his eye and that smirk. The easy banter and teasing is something I’ve never really experienced, and I’m enjoying it. Immensely.

  “Oh, I believe there are. And I believe I’ve experienced one of your better perks.” I tease back. It’s so foreign, yet feels so right to be like this with him. Dash makes me feel things I never thought possible, and I want to embrace everything being with him entails.

  “Really? And what’s that?” He takes another sip of his beer, his eyes still focused solely on me.

  “Obviously, your ability to get into trendy restaurants… but I was thinking more about… your lips… your mouth.” The way his lips and mouth have consumed me with tender and heart-stopping kisses is more than a perk—it’s more. It’s everything. I can feel so much when he kisses me. It goes beyond the physical. It’s a silent way of communicating not only desire, but something deeper. His lips, his mouth, his kisses aren’t punishing, they’re passionate.

  I pick up my wine glass and bring it to my lips with a slight tremble. Dash’s eyes are locked on mine, and they swirl with desire and lust. He’s affected me so much since we’ve met; I’m a little giddy knowing I have some effect on him as well. I take a sip as he leans forward. My body leans forward as if he’s pulling me to him. His tongue sneaks out, wetting his lips. I feel that tingly sensation and clench my thighs together. The way he’s looking at me, it’s like I’m the only person that exists in this crowded restaurant. The way he’s looking at me makes me think if I said slow wasn’t an option anymore, he’d take it. He’d take me. Desire ripples through me, but also an underlying fear. What if I can’t be all he needs me to be? What if I’m not enough for him? What if…

  Dash grips his glass so tightly I swear it will break any second. He polishes off the nearly full glass. “You’re fucking killing me. But in the end, I have a strong feeling it will all worth it. So worth it.” His voice is low and teases, but his eyes show a seriousness mixed in with passion. I look away, feeling my cheeks heat up. I hope he’s right. When he discovers the truth, you’ll be nothing but a disappointment, Julia— a big, huge, disgusting disappointment. My back goes rigid as I feel the darkness at the corners trying to consume me. I close my eyes, steady my breathing, and repeat my mantra over and over again until the darkness starts to fade away. When I open my eyes, Dash is staring at me with an intense concern.

  “Jules, are you okay?” His voice is low and calming. It’s almost as if he’s afraid that if he speaks any louder, he will scare me off. Before I can answer, Bridgette returns with our first course.

  She places a small, white triangular plate in front of me and then Dash. “Chef Becc has prepared a slow-cooked pork cheek with zucchini and summer corn for your first course. Enjoy.”

  Dash looks down at his plate, his fork poking the pork cheek, not sure what to do with it. “Pork cheek? You can eat their cheeks? That’s just…”

  I suppress my laugh. “The pork cheek is perhaps one of the best parts of the pig, especially if it’s cooked correctly. It should melt in your mouth and be so succulent and tender.” I raise my fork to my mouth, wrapping my lips around the little morsel of heavenly goodness. Chef Becc has cooked it beyond right. These pork cheeks are divine. I’m sure I moan their deliciousness.

  “Fuck…” Dash’s voice brings me out of my pork cheek-induced trance. His eyes are smoldering and full of so much heat. They make me squirm in my seat.

  “Sorry… I get kind of carried away when I’m enjoying amazingly prepared food. Occupational hazard.” My eyes gaze down at my plate. I can’t handle looking at him right now; he will see my embarrassment.

  I feel his fingers touch mine and give a little pull. I look up at him, my cheeks feeling like they are engulfed in flames. “Beautiful…” he whispers to himself. He clears his throat before he continues. “Hey, no need to apologize. I totally understand getting lost in something you love. And seeing you enjoy something so simple so much is making it very hard for me to control myself around you. If I could, I would claim you right here, right now, on this very table, letting everyone know that you belong with me. That you’re mine, only mine. Just so we’re clear.” He gives my fingers a squeeze before turning his attention to his food and eats.

  Dash has not only left me breathless, but speechless as well. I should be scared the way he’s just staked claim on me as if I’m a possession. But thi
s feels different. This doesn’t feel like owning someone. I want to be his, and I want him to be mine and only mine. How is it possible to feel this way after only seeing him a few times? This is crazy. This is insane. But it just feels… right. Dash’s moan brings me out of my thoughts.

  “This is amazing. I’ve never had anything like it. You were right to moan.” Dash’s eyes close as he continues to enjoy it. I can’t help but smile and enjoy our first course.

  Bridgette comes back a few times to check on us and to bring us our second course. Dash was hesitant at first again, but when he saw my reaction to the Muscovy Duck with orange marmalade, fennel purée, and pearl onion brûlée, his hesitation melts. Watching Dash Ford, rock star, eat is erotic; the way his lips wrap around the fork, the way his tongue slips out to lick his lips, the little noises he makes in appreciation.

  While we’re enjoying the amazing course and each other’s company, a couple of teenage girls are giggling off in the corner. I raise my fork, pointing in their direction. “I think you have some fans over there, Mr. Ford.”

  Dash turns around, and the girls squeal, hiding behind one another. “Yep, looks like it.” Dash turns back around and continues to eat as if those two girls don’t even exist. I don’t know how he can tune them out. I know I can’t. Before I can utter another word, the two of them are out of their seats, making their way toward our table. As they approach, I can see they aren’t teenagers at all but twenty-somethings instead. Both of them are wearing really short, tight hugging dresses that leave little to the imagination. I suddenly feel like I’m overdressed. The blond one taps Dash on the shoulder, and being a gentleman, he gently puts down his fork and gives them his full attention.