Can't Get Enough (A Rockstar Romance)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  CAN’T GET ENOUGH

  ©2018, Harley Wylde

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Other Books by Harley Wylde

  CAN’T GET ENOUGH

  A Rockstar Romance

  Harley Wylde

  ©2018, Harley Wylde

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

  Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within. Any trademarks mentioned are used for descriptive purposes only and are the property of the trademark holder and not Harley Wylde.

  Edited by Ilse Shaffer

  Cover Art by Jessica Smith

  Cover images from Canstock Photo and Period Images

  JACE

  When Sinful Seduction made it big, my life changed, and not always in awesome ways. The groupies were great at first, until one decided to fake a pregnancy and claim the kid was mine. My bandmates had my back, and while the woman backed down fast when I demanded a paternity test, it still shook me. I knew it was time for another change, one where I kept my pants zipped. And then I saw her across the bar... the goddess with golden waves, and her sexy little librarian outfit. I knew she was different, and I wanted to make her mine. Should have known better than to get drunk in Vegas. You know how they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Bullshit. Total and complete bullshit. But maybe this time my mistake will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

  HONEY

  I dumped my cheating fiancée, hopped a plane to Vegas, and hit the latest writer’s convention. On what should have been my wedding day, I was throwing back drinks like they were fruit punch. To be fair, they probably had fruit punch in them. When I woke up the next morning with a hard body pressed to mine, and a silver band on a very important finger, I thought I’d screwed up more than ever before. Imagine my surprise when the wannabe rocker I married turned out to be even more famous than me -—and wait for it -—he wanted to stay married! Even with a battered heart, I still believed in happily-ever-after, but what could a rock star and a romance author have in common?

  Chemistry... Intense, curl your toes, melt your panties chemistry. Relationships have been based on worse, right?

  *WARNING: If you don’t like foul-mouthed bad boys, lots of hot sex, and an accidental marriage, then you should probably skip this book.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First, I’d like to thank my fans. You guys have been so amazing, and your support means the world to me. I love seeing your comments on social media or receiving messages from you. And yes, I read every review posted on my books (both the 5-stars and the 1-stars, and all the ones in between).

  I’d also like to say a big thank you to my husband. I often joke and tell him there are days I’d like to smack him over the head with something (and sometimes I’m not quite sure I’m joking), but he’s been so supportive from the moment I finished my first book. When I struggled over going back to work at the end of 2010, he said, “You have a job. Stay home and write.” And it’s been life changing. So, thank you to the man who has put up with me the last 19 years.

  And a quick shout out to my kids (who better not see this anytime soon since they’re too young for this book). They are possibly becoming a little too accustomed to having to remind me school is out and they need to be picked up because I’ve gotten lost in writing.

  Lastly, thank you to the awesome Ilse Shaffer. No matter what she has on her plate, she always finds a way to squeeze me in. She’s been a wonderful editor and an amazing friend. I’m lucking to have her in my life.

  Chapter One

  JACE

  I stared into the crowd, their faces and writhing bodies a blur under the multi-hued lights. Sweat rolled down my temples and my spine as the lyrics poured out of me, more out of habit than passion. Fierce Seduction had been at the top of the charts for the past year as we’d toured the country. My fingers flew over the strings of my guitar, the riffs to the songs coming as easy as the women screaming my name. I couldn’t look at them without seeing her face, the stupid cunt who thought she was going to catch herself a one-way ticket to stardom.

  It had been the week from hell. A groupie I’d fucked nearly a damn year ago contacted my manager, threatening to go public if I didn’t pay her a million dollars to keep quiet. She claimed the baby she’d had two weeks before was my son, but I knew better. I was super fucking cautious when it came to fucking the whores who threw themselves at me. I not only wore a condom, but I usually pulled out too. No way in hell I was getting trapped by some gold-digging bitch.

  Fuck. Would this concert never end? We were playing Vegas, and the venue was sold out. It was our last show before heading home on Monday. The band had agreed we’d play Friday night, then fuck around for two days on the strip before flying back to L.A. Best fucking idea ever. I wasn’t big into gambling, but the bar at the Bellagio was calling my name. I was certain they had several bottles of vodka with my name on them. I just hadn’t decided if I was celebrating the fact that the kid wasn’t mine or trying to drown myself over the fuckery that was my life. When you’d fucked enough women that they all blurred together, and your reputation was so tattered those same women thought they could blackmail you, then maybe it was time to get off the merry-go-round.

  The last few bars of the song played out, our final for this show, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell off the stage. The fans screamed and catcalled, all of them wanting a piece of us. It had been a thrill a minute when the stardom had first hit. I couldn’t believe how lucky we’d been, or that we were finally riding the top of the charts. There was this huge rush when we took the stage, or when some hot college girl tossed her panties at me, or better yet, informed me she wasn’t wearing any. I’d definitely earned my reputation as a panty dropper. I’d been proud as hell of the way women fawned all over me, until that wake-up call last week. Nothing can kill your buzz quicker than some chick claiming she got knocked up with your kid, some faceless stranger you fucked and forgot. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever learned her name before bending her over.

  Backstage, I snagged a bottle of water and guzzled the entire damn thing. Tossing it into the trash, I braced myself for what came next. The adoring fans who had backstage passes. A VIP room had been set up for the occasion, and I knew those women only wanted one thing. To lay claim to one of us for the night, hell, even for an hour.

  “You in a hurry to get your dick wet?” Simon asked with a leer. “A room full of free pussy, and it’s all ours for the taking.”

  “I’m signing some autographs then I’m getting the fuck out of here,” I said as I stormed down the hallways toward a fate worse than death.

  “Since when do you turn away free pussy?”

  “Since Rochelle.” I’d tried not to utter that cunt’s name, but it was ingrained in my memory ever since I’d gotten the letter from her attorney.

  Simon winced. “That was some rotten luck, but it all worked out. You demanded that paternity test and proved her to be the fucking liar that she is. You’re not going to let one woman fuck with your head like that, are you?”

  I shrugged and pushed through the doors to the VIP room. The squeals and shrieks assaulted my ears as abo
ut six pairs of hands reached for me. Revulsion rolled through me as I looked at their too-heavy makeup and skin tight clothes. Why had I ever been attracted to women like these? They were desperate and didn’t care who they hurt, as long as they got what they wanted. Me.

  Signing whatever they thrust my way—paper, water bottles, boobs—I finally made my way through the crowd and out the doors on the opposite side. When I rushed outside of the venue, I ignored the screaming fans, trusting that security would keep them off my back while I disappeared into the night. I took several detours, making sure I wasn’t followed, and finally arrived at the Bellagio. I’d stayed here before when I wasn’t touring with the band, and as I stepped inside, it felt like the building was welcoming me back. The place was packed, but I managed to find a spot at the end of the bar. Hopefully out of sight of everyone but the bartender.

  I motioned for him to come over and ordered six shots of vodka. They burned on the way down as I slammed one after another. It would take a hell of a lot more to get me shitfaced, but it was a decent start. The next hour blurred as I downed everything from vodka to whiskey to Jagermeister. I felt warm, and loose, and completely blissed out by the time I noticed her.

  My eyes took in the neat updo and the prim glasses perched on her nose. The way she sipped at the fruity drink in front of her made me think this wasn’t her usual scene. The dress she had on was sexy yet sedate. Fuck if she didn’t make me burn hotter than the god damn sun. Her lips, a succulent berry color, fit around the straw of her red drink, and I watched as her gaze flitted around the room. The jackass next to her was so fucking drunk he nearly knocked her off the barstool twice, earning the creep a glare that would have made a cross nun proud. I half expected her to whip out a ruler and rap his knuckles with it.

  Whoever this angel was, I knew I wanted to find out more about her, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to do that sitting way over here. I shouldered my way through the crowd and shoved the drunk off his stool before claiming it for myself. She blinked up at me in surprise, the blue depths of her eyes pulling me in. The angel licked her lips as she leaned a little closer.

  Holy Hell.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, a slight slur to her words. Just how many of those drinks had she had?

  “I won’t knock you off your stool, but I can’t promise I won’t sweep you off your feet.”

  What. The. Fuck. Did that shit really just come out of my mouth?

  She giggled, and her cheeks flushed pink. It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. She had this sexy librarian vibe going and my fingers itched to get her out of that dress. Was she wearing plain cotton underneath or something lacy and hot as fuck? I’d never chased a woman before, but this little beauty was enough to knock me to my knees. Yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of...

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Honey.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “Honeysuckle. My mother was a hippy.”

  Oh yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of Honey.

  “Jace,” I said, holding out my hand.

  Her palm slid against mine, her slender fingers sending sparks shooting up my arm, through my chest, and settling in my dick. If I hadn’t been interested before, she sure as hell had my attention now. Her eyes were a little glassy, but she didn’t seem too drunk. Then again, every time I moved too fast, the room spun, so maybe I wasn’t the best judge of that right now.

  Her fingers trailed over one the tattoos on my arm. “What do you do for a living, Jace? Tattoo artist?”

  I cracked a smile. I was inked, both arms, my chest, and I had an insane idea for a back piece.

  “No, I’m not a tattoo artist. I play in a band.”

  Her lips formed an “O” as she leaned toward me a little more. “I should have guessed. You have that whole rocker vibe going with the leather jacket and ripped jeans.”

  She ran a finger down my chest, twisting my shirt in her grasp. Honey eagerly leaned forward and somehow ended up in my lap, not that I was complaining. Her slender curves felt like heaven pressed against me, and I curled an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. I didn’t know what perfume she was wearing, but it made my cock throb behind my zipper. It was sweet, just like her, and I wanted to take a taste.

  No, I wanted more than that. I was tired of slutty girls who put out to anyone in a band. I wanted a good girl, a nice girl, like the one in my lap. If I had a nice girl on my arm, maybe it would show the world I was more than just a panty dropper. My alcohol sloshed brain started to hatch a plan. The best plan in the history of plans.

  “You know what I think?” I asked.

  A smile curved her lips, and she leaned a little closer, her breasts pressed against my chest. “What?”

  “I think you should marry me.”

  Her eyes went wide and her lips parted. “Marry you?”

  I nodded. “You’re all pristine and proper, and I’m down and dirty. It’s a match made in fucking heaven, baby.”

  She still looked stunned, so I gave in to temptation and trailed my lips along her jaw, and down her neck. She shivered in my arms. My fingers toyed with the hem of her skirt, a very proper length too, and I traced circles on her thigh a few inches above her knee. The fingers clutching my shirt dragged me closer, and her lips teased mine in the barest hint of a kiss. It sent a jolt of lust straight to my cock, and I tipped her head back before taking that taste I’d wanted so badly.

  Honey moaned into my mouth, and I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her, but I wasn’t about to make her a one-night stand, not a good girl like her. My angel deserved so much better than that. I wasn’t a prize, not with the groupies she’d have to deal with or the touring, but I would be good to her, and I hadn’t lied. I’d bet we would be fucking amazing together. She was the yin to my yang.

  “Marry me.” I gazed at her earnestly. “I mean it, baby. I’m not playing a trick on you.”

  She shook her head, then gripped me tighter as she started to slide off my lap. “You don’t know me.”

  “Then tell me about you. What do you do for a living? Librarian?”

  “I write books.”

  So, sexy and smart.

  “Ever been married before?”

  “Almost. I was engaged once.”

  She didn’t give me more than that, not when, not who, not how it ended, and maybe it was none of my damn business. The important part was that she was single now.

  “Do drugs or get wasted all the time?’

  She giggled a little. “This is the first drink I’ve had in months. I wanted to celebrate my new book coming out, but I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with.”

  “We can celebrate all night long, baby. Just you and me.”

  She sighed. “I can’t get married. No one wants to marry me.”

  “I do.”

  She shook her head. “I have baggage.”

  “Sweetness, we all have baggage. Say you’ll do it. Say you’ll marry me. We can figure out all the details tomorrow. Right now, I just want you to be mine.” I gave her bottom lip a nip. “And then I’m going to fuck you all night long.”

  “But you have to know...”

  I silenced her with my lips. “Yes or no, babe.”

  “Yes,” she said with a breathy sigh.

  With a whoop, I swung her up into my arms and carried her to an all-night clerk’s office to get a license, then we stopped at the first chapel I could find. It had one of those cheesy Elvis impersonators, but she didn’t seem to mind. They were even nice enough to snap a few pictures for us. Before Honey could change her mind, I had made her mine...so I could take her to my room and make her mine.

  She giggled and stumbled her way through the lobby of the Bellagio, and we made our way up to my suite. The chapel had been full-service, and we sported the silver bands to prove it. I’d have to get her something better from an actual jeweler, but at least the world would know she was mine, and that I was
hers. Nothing else fucking mattered at the moment. Except getting inside her. My cock was aching and I couldn’t wait to go balls deep in that sweet body of hers.

  The lights flicked on in the suite, and I carried her to the bedroom, dropping her on the bed. She bounced and smiled widely at me. There was a dazed look in her eyes, and I felt a little wonder-struck myself. How the fuck did I get lucky enough for this awesome woman to be my wife? Not only was she going to clean up my image, but she was definitely fuckable. My cock had never been this hard before, and all of her clothes were still on.

  I slowly stripped out of my shirt and jeans. I’d gone commando for the concert out of habit. Easier access for the groupies. I was going to have to stop that shit now that I had a wife. A damn sexy one too. She licked her lips as she scooted closer, reaching out a hand and wrapping those delicate fingers around my monster hard-on. I hissed and thrust my hips, intense pleasure leaving me weak-kneed. What the fuck? I’d never reacted this way to a woman before. I’d always been a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. Good to know the woman I’d chosen to marry could knock me to my knees.

  “You have me at a disadvantage, baby. You have yet to remove a single stitch of clothing.”

  Honey shimmied off the bed and struggled to reach her zipper. I gently turned her, reaching for the little crystal toggle. It rasped as I slid it down to the waist, the material of her dress parting to show a black cotton bra with black and white checkered panties. I couldn’t help but smile. The women who threw themselves at me either wore nothing under their clothes or sexy barely-there stuff that you could rip with your teeth.

  I skimmed the straps of her dress off her shoulders and down her arms, letting the garment pool at her feet. I wanted my hands on her, and I knew I couldn’t wait. Her hips flared gently and I gripped them as I used my lips and tongue to kiss my way down her back, stopping to pop the clasp on her bra. I vaguely registered it falling to the floor, but God help me, if I saw her breasts right now, I’d be a goner.