Meet Flynn and Lucky in this rock star romance!
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Meet Flynn and Lucky!
“So. Give it to me straight. What am I doing wrong?”
Ummm…absolutely nothing from what I can see. Everything was perfect. Don’t change a thing. Shit. “Could you do it again? Maybe a different song, one you haven’t sung in a while. So the sounds are less familiar to your body. Sometimes that can give me a different view.” At least I make it sound like a real thing when the words come out.
He sings again, and this time I force myself to observe. “Hmm…your posture is great. Most people have a tendency to favor one side of their neck, which makes them tilt a bit when they speak, and it becomes magnified when they sing, which puts strain on the muscles around the vocal cords. Your alignment is perfect.”
“Thank you, it goes with the rest of my perfectness,” he says with a teasing arrogance that, from the little I know about him, I know isn’t real.
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“You can’t now tell me I’m not perfect. I was already basking in the glow.”
“Actually, it was perfect…but almost a little too perfect. Which makes me think you don’t usually stand this way when you sing.”
“It isn’t the way I normally sing. On stage, I usually have a guitar over my shoulder. Even if I’m not playing it, it’s there.”
“Well, I need to see you holding your instrument to assess you fully, then.”
Flynn’s eyebrows quirk up and the dirty grin on his face is unmistakable.
“The guitar. I’d need to see you holding the guitar.”
“That’s a shame.” He shrugs, the playful smile still on his face. “But okay. It’s your call. Whatever instrument you want to see me hold is fine with me.”
“How big of you.”
“So now we’re talking about the other instrument again?”
I roll my eyes, although this conversation is having more of an effect on me than I let on.
I grab a newspaper and begin to flip through to kill time. Then my eyes catch a pair of pink-painted toes in flip-flops. I don’t know why, but it’s in this moment that I realize, I’m fucked.
The sight of her toes makes me smile.
I’m falling for another guy’s girl. Something I promised myself I’d never do.
But then I reason with myself. I haven’t done anything wrong. Thinking a woman is beautiful and spending time with her doesn’t have to turn into anything, right? They’re just toes after all. But look how cute they are. I’ve never been a foot guy, yet I wouldn’t mind sucking… Stop. Just stop. We’re just friends.
Because I’ve been friends with so many hot women in the past and not fucked them? Yep. I’m screwed. I need to get the hell out of here.
“Good morning,” she whispers and smiles down at me. My eyes lazily travel up from her toes.
I’m totally not going anywhere.
I hold up her mug of coffee. And then I realize she still has the thin shirt she wears to sleep on and I’m eye-level with the sexiest taut nipples I’ve ever seen.
Screw sucking her toes… “Certainly is.” I grin.
Book Summary & Purchase link
Hard body of a man
Sings like an angel
Fucks like the devil
I was stuck between a rock(star) and a hard place.
At fifteen, his poster hung on my bedroom wall. At twenty-five his body hovered over mine. Every girl’s fantasy became my reality. I was dating a rockstar. Yet I was slowly falling for another man. The problem was—the two men—they shared a tour bus.
Flynn Beckham was the opening act.
Dylan Ryder was the headliner.
What happens when the opening act begins to shine so bright, it seems to dim everything else in its wake?
I’ll tell you what happens. Things get ugly.
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