I couldn’t help but look.
In fact, once my eyes locked on its throbbing magnificence, I couldn’t tear them away. My jaw dropped. So this was what all the fuss was about. It was gossip worthy, that was for sure.
That thing should be in a museum somewhere.
Liam Mercury and his brother Ian were the most talked about rock stars on the planet. Not only were they known for their out of this world ability to completely shred a stage, leaving crowds of thousands panting and begging for more every night, but Liam was just as famous for leaving women begging for more in the bedroom.
His cock had met more than its fair share of supermodels and actresses and although his professional reputation was beyond scarred, every woman he’d ever dated only had wonderful things to say about him…and his cock
It was almost as famous as he was.
And here I was ogling it for what had suddenly become an uncomfortably long amount of time.
Liam’s reputation out of the bedroom wasn’t exactly stellar.
He was known as a cut-throat businessman, a spoiled and unrelenting artist, and difficult to handle prick, to put it bluntly. He’d gone through so many managers and PR agents, his label was having trouble finding anyone who would work with him.
That’s why I was here in the first place.
I’d been hired by Rolling Stone magazine to pen a cover story that shows that Liam Mercury in a better light… A misunderstood artist. A good man…
I needed to show that Liam Mercury is still worth the millions his label is investing.
I was supposed to prove that despite all the parties, the booze, the groupies, the tantrums, the interviews walked out on in a rage, the drunken fights with his brother, all the concerts started hours late or missed completely - leaving pissed off fans demanding their money back - despite all that, I’ve been assigned the task of proving that the irresponsible, bad boy reputation of Liam Mercury is all just one big misunderstanding.
Of course, following around an arrogant rockstar for a week is hardly my idea of a dream assignment, but my options are limited right now. I’d much rather be interviewing a serious subject, writing something that could change the world.
Hell, anything but this.
The last thing I want to do is babysit an immature party boy for a week.
But, as another famous rock star once said, “You can’t always get what you want.”
I was stuck. The offers weren’t coming as fast as they used to. Everyone got their news in a hundred and forty characters and the world seemed to be much more interested in who the Kardashians were screwing this week instead of a serious in-depth look at the civil war in Syria or the economic crisis in Brazil.
Unfortunately, my journalistic integrity came second to my stomach. I still had to eat, so here I was, paying the bills by accepting this job.
Which was basically professional slumming, as far as I was concerned.
This week couldn’t pass quickly enough. I’d write my puff piece, try to shower off the filth from being in this bus, and never think about Liam Mercury ever again.
I was glad my dad wasn’t around to see me do this.
“Mr. Mercury, I’m Catherine Donovan, your manager let me on your bus,” I tried once more, raising my voice. “I’m here from Rolling Stone magazine. To interview you? I’ll just wait up front until you’re…,” my voice trailed off as I realized I had reverted to staring at his cock again. I snapped my eyes up quickly, my gaze clashing with his, “ready.”
“Don’t I look ready, luv?” His blue eyes taunted me and he reached down, sliding his fingers around the base of his cock and waving it at me. He was ready. I swallowed hard, and forced my gaze back up and away from that famous masterpiece.
“I’m not here for that,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice curt and professional. The ginger squeezed in tightly next to the brunette and they began kissing each other and moaning loudly.
“What a shame,” Liam said, with a wink. “There’s enough of me to go around, you know.”
The blonde erupted in giggles and flipped her long locks over her shoulder. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Stay professional, I thought to myself.
“I’ll be up front. Whenever you’re ready for me…” my voice trailed off as my eyes raked down his muscular chest and landed once more on his throbbing cock.
“Don’t hold your breath love. If you want to interview me, it’ll have to be on my terms.” His voice was teasing me, and he still had his hand wrapped around that snake between his legs.
I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some small part of me that was interested in what exactly his terms might be…
But I had a job to do. And that didn’t include jumping on top of Liam Mercury’s illustrious cock.
“I was hired by your label,” I tore my eyes away once again, forcing myself to look directly into his bright blue eyes. I ignored the electric pulse that shot through my body. “I don’t work for you, and I don’t work on your terms. I’ll be on tour with you for a week. I’ll be reporting whatever I observe until we get to Los Angeles. What I report and how I report it isn’t really up to you.”
“Is that so, doll?” He reached over and pushed the brunette and the blonde down between his legs.
“I think you can see I’m busy. If you’re not here to shag me, luv,” he said, smiling up at me, his crooked grin slowly spreading across his insanely handsome face, “then piss off!”
Chapter 2
LIAM
The shrill ringing seemed to go on forever. White-hot shards of pain shot through my head as consciousness washed over me. I pulled a pillow over my head, hoping to block out the pain, the sound, and the piercing light that was slicing through my peaceful revelry. The smell of sex and booze permeated the air and I felt warm bodies stirring beside me.
And that incessant fuckin’ ringing that wouldn’t quit.
What the fuck was that?
I pushed at the body beside me. “Make it stop,” I muttered.
“It’s your phone,” a woman’s sleepy voice replied.
“Fuck it,” I said, ignoring it and willing my body back to sleep. Warm limbs wrapped themselves around my hips, and the unmistakable softness of breasts pushed against my chest. My cock stirred.
“Fuck!” I hissed. I was hoping for more sleep, but there was no ignoring my raging cock in the morning. Hell, there was no ignoring it ever. The bloody ringing stopped, thankfully. Warm fingers wrapped around the base of my cock, and I groaned, turning to my side and pulling her closer. She rolled over on her back, and I lay on top of her, opening my eyes for the first time and looking down at her.
A blonde this time. One of the girls from last night. I reached over to the nightstand, pulling a condom free and sliding it down around my shaft. I was awake. No use wasting morning wood.
We both jumped when the other kind of pounding started.
“Liam, wake the fuck up!” My brother’s voice accompanied his sudden frenzied banging on the hotel room door. “We need to get on the road. Everyone’s waiting for ya!”
I pulled out of the blonde and strolled over to the door, opening it straight into Ian’s red, fuming face.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, take the fuckin’ condom off your knob and get these girls off the bloody fuckin’ bus, you fuckin’ twat!” he screamed.
“I’ll be there shortly, little brother,” I smirked, as I watched him storm away toward the driver. I loved pissing off Ian. Indeed, it was probably one of my greatest pleasures in life to get under his skin. It was right up there with fuckin’, and drinkin’, and of course, performing.
I walked back into the little room at the back of the bus with a smirk on my face.
“We’ll have to make this quick! My brother’s off his trolley!”
Chapter 3
CATHERINE
After my first, and very rude, encounter with Liam last night, I’d left the circus of Liam’s tour bus, and found a taxi to my
hotel room. And now, here I was, smack dab in the middle of the circus again.
The band had quite the entourage. I’d met almost everyone by now, and while they were all very nice, except for the self-proclaimed bad boy of the bunch, they were also very self-absorbed. I was definitely an outsider.
Each band member had their own bus, as well as what appeared to be their own entourage. Everyone lingered around outside of the buses as they waited for Liam to appear.
The bus drivers had started the engines half an hour ago and they sat idling in a row waiting on Liam.
Rocket, who went by one name only he told me, was the drummer. He was skinny as a rail, with long blonde hair and sharp green eyes. He walked past me and after a quick introduction by Matt Reynolds, the tour manager I had met last night, he disappeared into his bus.
Matt was a huge guy, with short black hair and tiny eyes that were way too small for his face. He stood across from me on the sidewalk, constantly checking his phone.
Rhys, the bass player, and Slade, the guitar player, could have passed for twins. They had long black hair that hung in their faces and they stood quietly smoking and talking together. They were both wearing leather jackets, and neither of them looked like they had slept in days.