Page 2 of Rock Hard
He was toweling off when his acute hearing picked up the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing, no doubt Alice delivering his meal. He smiled wickedly and dropped his towel before stepping out. He would let her see what she was missing, maybe givehera case of blue lady balls.
But it wasn’t Alice’s big, light brown eyes opening wide. Nor was it Alice who suddenly squealed and launched herself across the room. It wasn’t Alice’s silky, roast chestnut colored locks with golden highlights brushing against his groin. And those long, pointed, red talons digging into his hips definitely didn’t belong to Alice.
Rex stepped back quickly, his large hand coming down on her head to push her away. He tilted his head back, fighting the urge to sneeze, his nose protesting the chick’s nauseating combination of hairspray and cheap perfume.
She was a determined little thing. She bucked against his hand with unexpected strength, leading him to believe she was hyped-up on something.
“Please,” she begged desperately, as if sucking him off was her goal in life. It probably was. He was Rex Løve, after all. Lead guitarist and vocalist for one of the most famous rock and roll bands of the last two decades. Multi-millionaire. International sex symbol. The one every woman wanted to do, and every guy wanted to be. King of the motherfucking jungle.
But despite the similarities, hewasn’this father. And there was only one woman he wanted on her knees before him.
“I’ll make it so good, I promise,” she pleaded, wagging a unique tongue piercing at him. Intriguing, but he was going to pass. He wondered absently if Alice would consider getting one.
“I don’t think so.” He cupped her head with both hands, intent on pushing her away without harming her, or his family jewels, in the process.
In a perfect example of horrible timing, the real Alice opened the door. And Carly was right behind her.
“Rex, what the ...?”
Alice’s eyes grew huge as she took in the scene. His fourteen-year-old daughter’s face turned dark with a mixture of embarrassment and disgust.
Alice stepped in front of her, blocking her view and pushing her back out of the room.
Well, fuck.
“Enough.” Rex shoved the girl back, firmly but carefully. “You need to leave. FRANK!”
The fan looked like she was going to cry. She lifted big blue eyes, outlined in black, her lip trembling. Underneath all that crap on her face, she looked barely older than Carly.
“How old are you, anyway?”
Her features twisted into a smirk. “Old enough.”
“Not for me, you’re not.”
The door opened, and Frank, the burly bear security guard, stepped in. “Sorry, Mr. Løve. I don’t know how she got past me.”
Rex grunted. He would deal with him and his piss-poor performance later.
Frank came over and lifted the girl off her knees, then quickly and efficiently showed her the exit.
Feeling irritated, Rex jabbed his long legs into a pair of jeans and stalked over to his daughter’s room, growling when he found it locked.
“Open this door!” he commanded.
“Go away!” came his daughter’s immediate response.
Rex lowered his shoulder and gave one powerful shove. The sound of splintering wood was oddly satisfying, but not enough to improve his mood.
His daughter glared angrily at him from her bed. “I said,go away.”
“My penthouse suite,” he reminded her.
Her scowl was fierce, but not as fierce as that of the curvy, chestnut-haired beauty giving him the evil eye. His personal assistant and right-hand woman, Alice Elizabeth Kensington. Quite possibly the only woman strong enough to be in his presence and not succumb to her desires.
Well, not yet anyway. No woman could resist him forever. They both knew it was only a matter of time.
“Really?” Alice said, standing protectively between him and his pissed-off cub. “Do you have to bring your bimbos back to the room?” Her arms were crossed over her chest, plumping up those luscious breasts he would love to suck on for a couple hours while he buried himself deep inside her body and let her know exactly what she had been missing.
