Exclusive Contract (Rock Arrangement, #2): Rock Arrangement, #2

By Ava Lore

Rebecca is determined to do a good job as the babysitter (and fake girlfriend) of troubled rock star Carter Hudson, but before the ink is even dry on her contract her charge is slipping out of her control. She could regain it-- if she could keep her hands off of Kent, her new boss and Carter's brother. Too bad something about him attracts her the way no man ever has...

"Exclusive Contract" is 19,200 words and is the second installment of the serial novel Rock Arrangement.

Excerpt:

The tension in the room finally eased and the rest of the band set about setting up. It was pure torture, but I didn't even glance at Kent. Instead I kept my eyes on Carter the whole time. He looked mildly disappointed that I had refused to enable his alcohol habit, but that couldn't really be helped. He knew as well as I did that I was supposed to look after him.

I watched as he pulled his guitar off its stand and looped the strap over his head before sitting down and plugging it into the amp next to his chair. The crackle of static scraped over my ears, and then, with a few deft plucks of his fingers, Carter made the guitar sing.

Oh, I thought. Yes. This is music.

A cascade of notes leaped from the strings, dancing through the wires to the amp, booming through the small room. At once Manny sat up in his chair, his whole body straightening, his drumsticks suddenly standing at the ready, poised to crash into the tight skins in front of him. At her seat in front of the keyboard, Sonya stubbed her cigarette out, took one last gulp of her drink—wincing and making me think that it certainly was not water at all—then settled her hands on the keys. With a ripple of her fingers, a sweet, unfamiliar melody flowed out.

Then Kent switched his amplifier on, put his fingers on the strings of his bass, and plucked out a low, thrumming beat.

My breath left me.

The rhythm hummed and pulsed, resonating in my chest and stomach, rattling my heart in the cage of my ribs. I felt it, deep inside me, pounding through the soles of my feet where I stood. I felt the vibrations in the backs of my legs, shaking my bones. My mouth went dry and without thinking I sank to the floor, settling in to listen. There weren't any other chairs anyway, of course, but I didn't mind. Sitting on the carpet, I could feel the hard, driving rhythm Kent had found, and it took all my willpower to not lick my lips and close my eyes and squirm where I sat.

Even so, his music hummed deep inside my core...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brittle Divinity Press
• Release date: Mar 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781502213150

Ava Lore

Ava Lore was raised by okapis and lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing erotic romance, she spends her time thinking about writing erotic romance and drinking enough iced coffee to kill a musk ox. You can email Ava Lore at [e-mail], follow her on twitter (@authoravalore) or visit her at authoravalore.com. She yearns for your approval and always loves to hear from fans. Want more BBW? More Billionaires? More aliens? More menage? Something entirely different? Let her know!

Book preview

Chapter Four

So here's what I don't get, Rose was saying on Tuesday morning as I prepared my breakfast. If Carter Hudson is a rock star, couldn't he get a girlfriend on his own? One that would look after him without having to be paid?

The ancient can opener in my hand slipped yet again from the elderly can of Spaghetti-Os I'd found at the back of the pantry. I swore. I would conquer this can. I would destroy it. Or else I'd give up or something.

Taking a deep breath, I put it down on the counter and tried to compose myself. I was feeling shitty for many reasons, and explaining to Rose what seemed perfectly reasonable last night in a darkened limo with an insanely hot man with whom I'd had the most indecent relations mere hours before was giving me a fresh headache. I chewed on a fingernail for a second, organizing my thoughts. From what I can tell, I finally said, you can't trust people who are already in the industry to do that kind of job because they're all drunkards or hooked on blow. It has to be someone responsible.

Rose burst out laughing. Oh! You, responsible? Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I know, I'm sorry. She waved a hand as I glared at her and she struggled to get herself under control. You are definitely more responsible than most actresses. I'm sorry. She managed to sober, though she couldn't meet my eye. She stared fixedly at the refrigerator instead and took a sip of her coffee. "I know. I suppose. But why girlfriend?"

I closed my eyes and tried to remember Kent's exact words. Mr. Hudson said it was... it was because if I was his girlfriend, no one would question me spending all my time with him, and that Carter is trying to get several roles in some teen flicks. Kent seems to think he has real crossover potential, and he wants Carter to clean up his image. He needs to settle down and be less of a drunk drug addict and more of a boy-next-door.

That's all very well and good, except if you care to recall, the boy-next-door back at home was cooking up meth in his kitchen, Rose reminded me.

I didn't need her to remind me. It's not every day the house next door gets raided by a SWAT team, and you tend to remember it pretty well when it does. You know what I mean, I told her. "Fresh faced. Wholesome. He can't do that if he's dry-humping Perez Hilton's leg at the Grammy's.

I would think that sort of thing would get him good press from Hilton.

Yeah, but not from the other twelve reporters standing around.

They're probably just jealous. But fair enough. She sighed. Very well. I'll look over the terms of the contract. I don't want you getting screwed. You know this is going to put you front and center, right? You'll be photographed and interviewed and people are going to know exactly who you are. She sniffed. I wouldn't be surprised if you got lynched by fans angry that you've stolen away their imaginary man.

I winced. I didn't want to be exposed. I definitely didn't want anyone back in San Diego finding me and coming to make trouble. On the other hand, I wasn't any safer with Rose than I would be with Carter. And if I took the job, I'd get to hang around with Kent.

The thought appealed to me far more than it should have. Kent Hudson was clearly a womanizer and a manwhore. What kind of guy frots a woman he's interviewing for a position in an airplane bathroom? It was almost as if he wasn't entirely professional!

And what kind of person enthusiastically participates? my brain asked me. I didn't want to know what it thought the answer was. I was feeling bad enough about it already. Honestly. I have enough self-esteem problems. I don't need my brain slut-shaming me, too.

Besides, it had been exceptionally hot. I'd never done anything like that, and the danger of getting caught, the thrill of the illicit, had definitely helped me get my rocks off faster than ever before. Kent's skilful hands had not hurt at all, either.

It was probably a really bad idea to take this job. Unfortunately I had caught a case of temporary insanity and could not seem to pull myself out of it. Also money. Great big gobs of money. Enough money to start over and get a new life somewhere. A quiet life. I wouldn't even need the attention of any hot rock stars to cheer me up...

With a sigh, I picked up the can opener and applied it to my Spaghetti-Os again. This time I managed to get purchase and sprayed tomato sauce all over the counter and myself. Immediately I seized up and grabbed a paper towel. I'd spent ages cleaning this stupid counter, going around the seams with a q-tip and scrubbing away the coated stickiness left by the last tenant. I was not going to let some lousy semi-expired can of Spaghetti-Os destroy all my hard work.

Holy crap, Rebecca, it's just a little tomato sauce, not hydrofluoric acid. My sister leaned over the counter and frowned at me. Are you all right? Do you think you're feeling well enough to take this job?

I ignored her as I wadded up the paper towels and dumped them into the trash can.

Only you just used ten paper towels for three drops of tomato sauce.

I huffed at her. I'm fine. I dumped the contents of the can into a bowl and popped it into the microwave. I'm just thinking.

Uh huh, she said.