The Complete Rockstar Series

“Look at me El,” he pleads. “What are you thinking?”

I twist my hands together, forcing myself not to chew on my poor fingernail, determined to finally break that stupid habit. Reluctantly, I raise my chin just enough to make eye contact with Adam. He slides over until our thighs touch and puts his hands on either side of my face, leaning in to touch our foreheads together. We’re so close I can see every fleck of green and gold in his expressive hazel eyes.

“Adam… I don’t know where to start. I didn’t leave you, after the hotel,” I have to stop and swallow, my mouth suddenly very dry. Adam’s going to lose his mind when I tell him what happened, but I have to tell him.

“You texted me. Said we were done then blocked my number, El. That’s pretty final,” he says wryly.

My head jerks up at his words and Adam flinches back at the sudden movement. “I most certainly did not text you!” I shout. “In fact, I was in hospital and unconscious for four days, so that’s not even possible. Besides, when I woke, James said that my phone was broken…” My sentence dies off when I realize what must have happened. That controlling bastard! “James,” I whisper. “He must have texted you, not me.”

“What? Why were you in hospital? And why on earth would James text me?” Adam asks, the confusion on his face apparent.

As I tell Adam what happened, my brain is scrambling to put the missing pieces together. “The day after I saw you I went to work and then took the tube home. When I got there,” I tense up, steeling myself for Adam’s reaction, “Callum Murray drugged me and tied me up in my flat.”

“He did what?” Adam bellows.

My hand shoots out and grips his knee, determined to keep him seated until I finish talking. “I heard him on the phone, Adam, while he thought I was unconscious. It was Danny, he’s the one who sent him. He wanted pictures… of me, of my injuries, so he could send them to… to you.”

“Fucking hell.” Adam shoves his hands into his hair and starts yanking on it, clearly having a difficult time restraining his anger. “What did he do, El. Tell me.” His eyes are clenched shut, unable to look at me as I finish my horrific story.

“He, ummmm, he bashed my head on the floor. I guess I started having seizures. Then James came in and arrested him, nearly beat him to death,” I whisper. “Callum is still in jail. Will be for a long time I’m told.” I fidget while I speak, focusing intently on the plush beige carpet of the suite so I don’t have to see Adam’s reaction to hearing of his brother’s involvement.

“Did he… did he touch you, El?” Adam asks, his eyes still screwed shut tightly and his mouth contorted as if he’s in agony.

“No Adam. I think he would have, but he didn’t. I woke up four days later. James told me my phone was destroyed. I didn’t have your number anywhere else,” I sob. “I didn’t know he used it to send you that text.” My chest literally aches from the memories, from the pain I’m inflicting on Adam, from the way he’s cringing as I describe that terrible day. “He must have seen our calls, or read our texts. He knew. That bastard knew about us and lied to me. Used my fear of Callum to keep me with him.” Tears finally break through and I swipe them away angrily.

“It’s my fault you were attacked, El. Danny, he hired Callum to attack you because I cut him off.”

“What do you mean?” I never could understand how Adam’s brother knew Callum Murray or his history with Adam and me.

“Remember in school when I paid my brother to keep Callum away from you?” Adam rubs his hands down his face, scraping them over his dark stubble as they move.

“Yes. I remember.”

“I never stopped paying him to look out for you,” he admits, guilt evident in his eyes. “When you told me at the hotel that Callum attacked you… twice, both times while I was paying Danny to keep you safe…” he huffs loudly and clenches his jaw, “I paid him a visit and cut him off financially. That’s why he had Callum go after you, because I confronted him and took away his money.”

“Adam,” I reach over and take his hand, pulling it until it rests against my cheek, “it’s not your fault. They’re both criminals, violent ones. Callum would have come after me eventually no matter what. Now he’s in prison and he’s not a worry anymore.”

“Yeah, but Danny’s not,” he rasps, clearly harboring the guilt for the assault even though it’s not his burden to bear.

“He will be. Criminals like him are always caught in the end,” I say confidently. I move closer, shifting until I’m straddling Adam’s lap, my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers gently brush across his neck, through the thick hair that barely touches his collar.

“El…” He slides his arms around my waist to pull me forward until we’re connected from hips to chest, our mouths just a fraction of an inch apart. “I need to feel you, know you’re safe, want to make you mine again.” His breath caresses my throat, sending shivers over my skin.

“Yes,” is all I need to say. I have faith that everything else will fall into place for us, like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.

Adam’s hands tighten on my lower back as he stands and turns, ending up on top of me on the plush sofa. The weight of his body, the hard length pushing against my thigh as my dress rides up, the hungry kisses he takes, are all so overwhelming that within minutes I’m panting and writhing beneath him. I run my hands over every inch of him, tugging his shirt out of his waistband so I can feel the firm muscles of his back as they shift powerfully over me.

“I’m not letting you go again,” Adam rasps in my ear. I shiver at the warmth of his lips on my skin me as he speaks.

“Then don’t.”

Adam pushes up on his hands until he’s kneeling between my legs. He grabs the back of his shirt and tugs it up and over his head, exposing his gorgeous, chiseled torso. Without speaking he stands, offering his hand to me. I take it, reveling in his physical beauty. His dark hair is disheveled from my wandering hands, his cheeks and neck are flushed red, and his gorgeous mouth is swollen from our desperate kisses. But it’s his eyes that catch my attention. Adam’s pupils are so large that only a sliver of the color-shifting hazel is visible.

I shudder in anticipation as he hauls me to my feet and moves behind me, pressing the length of his body to my back. He swiftly reaches up, tugging down the zipper on my dress. Going so slowly that I feel as if I might burst into flames from the anticipation. When he reaches the bottom his warm fingers trail from my lower back up my exposed spine, sending goose bumps over my sensitive skin. Instead of pushing the dress off of my shoulders, he stops midway and slides his hands under the silky material, around the front to gently cup my breasts.

“No bra?” he asks, a hint of humor in the question.

“Can’t, straps would show,” I pant, groaning when his hands find my taut nipples and he deftly rolls them in his fingers. I throw my head back onto his shoulder and lean on him, afraid that my legs will give out without the support.