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He’s a wealthy, ego-driven maniac that has a new bimbo at his beck and call with the mere snap of his fingers. Despite these irrepressible naughty fantasies I keep having about him, I wouldn’t stroke his ego for all the money in the world.
Jason Kaine
I may have found the one.
After years of fruitless searching, I’ve found the perfect secretary. She’s scarily efficient, not afraid of hard work, detail-oriented, and best of all, she doesn’t complain about my important rules. She’s a dream come true.
So why can’t I keep the image of her, deliciously naked and spread out invitingly across my desk, from invading my head? I didn’t get to where I am today by being stupid. I’ve got plenty of willing women to choose from who understand my absolute no-strings policy.
Lilliana is strictly off-limits, but I see the way her eyes devour me. I see how her pulse pounds whenever I get near. I know she’s ripe for the taking, but that would be disastrous for both of us. It might be the worst mistake ever, but something’s bound to give.
About the Author
ArabellaQuinnisaNew York TimesandUSA Todaybestselling author of contemporary romance. When she’s not busy writing, you can often find her clutching her Kindle and staying up way past her bedtime reading romance novels. Besides contemporary romance, she loves regency, gothic, and erotic romance — the steamier the better. She also loves thrillers, especially psychological thrillers. She saves reading horror for when her husband is away on business but doesn’t recommend that. She averages about five hours of sleep per night and does not drink coffee. Also, not recommended!
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Excerpt
How to Catch a Rockstar
Two Years Ago…
Ghost
Everyone was entirely focused on Ryder. He captivated the audience with his newly dyed, blond punk hairstyle and his electric performance ofRebel Yell. It was impressive. Maybe I felt a twinge of … what? Not jealousy. Not resentment. I don’t know what. My band was up on stage and I was watching from the audience. It just felt wrong. I was the face of Ghost Parker, but I’d stepped aside so that Ryder could shine in the spotlight — so that he could impress Talia.
I used the moment while everyone was caught up in the show to slip out the back of the room through some sliding glass doors onto the patio. The sun had set, so it was cooler outside, but not yet chilly. The overhead patio lights were not on, but there was soft landscape lighting that highlighted the palm trees and greenery, and there were hidden fixtures that illuminated the paving stone pathways. I followed a path that passed by the pool and stopped in front of a railing looking out toward the blackness of the ocean in the distance.
In this hidden corner, I could hear the rhythmic sound of the relentless surf and only heard the faintest of notes from Ghost Parker jamming inside the house. It was a good place to escape the party.
I had only a few minutes of peace until I felt the weight of someone’s eyes resting on me. My senses went on alert, but I didn’t turn to see who it was. It was probably one of any number of girls who’d been watching me since I’d arrived at Tommy’s house. The guest list was exclusive to friends; there were no random groupies here. It didn’t matter though, guaranteed this person wanted only one thing — to get into my pants.
I rolled that thought around in my head. A good fuck might be a great distraction, but I’d have to ask the ‘15 minutes of questions’ first. My therapist wanted me to stop having such utterly meaningless sex. She wanted me to get to know a girl, even if it was just for 15 minutes, before having sex. Baby steps, she called it. She was trying to teach me how to relate to people and how to build relationships.
The problem was that the more I got to know the girls, even after 15 minutes, the more I didn’t want to sleep with them. Maybe that was the whole point my therapist was trying to make; I was making poor choices. But, sex was one of the few things in life that I enjoyed. The rush of being on stage in front of thousands was the only thing better than sex. And since they were the only two things in life that temporarily pushed me past the numbness, I wasn’t about to give up either one.
With all the grappling in my head, it only took me an instant to make up my mind. I was going to let this chick blow me, whoever she was, and without the ‘15-minute getting to know her’ bullshit. And I would enjoy it. Then I’d see if I wanted to stick around the party any longer or just disappear into the shadows of the night.
I turned, already flashing the smile that was guaranteed to make the ladies drop their panties but ended up raising an eyebrow in surprise. I could tell by the silhouette that this was no lady.
He took a step closer so that his face was out of the shadows. He held up a drink in each hand. “Jack and Coke or Whiskey Sour?”
I shrugged. “Either is fine.”
He handed me the Jack and Coke and then took a healthy sip of his own drink.
I regarded him. “You’re Talia’s friend? We met on the party bus?”
“Grey,” he confirmed.
I remembered watching him at the nightclub that night. The guy had really attracted the attention of the ladies. They had swarmed him so quickly, that our party had to leave the dance floor and head to the VIP section. He was almost too handsome and the skintight shirt he’d worn that night had shown off that he was in great shape, but guys like that were a dime a dozen in this town.
Maybe his popularity had intrigued me because that night I’d found myself watching him. I had a way of blending in with the crowd and avoiding notice when I wanted to, but several times I’d felt his scrutiny. It was as if he’d been aware of me all night. It’d made me slightly nervous, an emotion that almost never broke through the constant numbness. Still, I’d been curious about him. I’d even wondered what he was doing when I was busy getting a blowjob in the VIP restroom. When he left at the end of the night with a curvy redhead, it felt like the party fizzled. Everything seemed flat. No more weird nerves. I’d left the party, alone, right after.
I took a sip of the Jack and Coke and then leaned on the railing, gazing out toward the ocean. “I’m Johnny.”
I surprised myself. I never introduced myself as Johnny. Maybe my therapist was finally getting through to me after all. She told me using my nickname, Ghost, was a way of hiding from intimacy. I wasn’t looking for intimacy with this guy, so I immediately regretted saying it.
