My Rock #5 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #5) by Alycia Taylor Read Free Book Online

you, but I’d like you to go.”
    I gave a heavy sigh. “Ugh! I like it better when
you’re a sarcastic ass. It’s easier to say no.”
    He grinned and said, “We could fuck instead. I’m
sure that would work too. I really, really want to do you on that big, frilly
bed.”
    I rolled my eyes. He never gave up. “Fine, we’ll go
for a ride on the bike. But you have to promise not to drive like a maniac. It
scares the shit out of me.”
    He laughed and said, “That’s why you don’t want to
go? My driving scares you?”
    “Yeah, it does. The last time I rode with you I
thought I was going to die. I came right back here and put my affairs in order
in case there was a next time.”
    “I was high the last time you rode with me. I barely
remember it.”
    “Gee, thanks, I feel so much better,” I told him.
    “You lived, I’m sober now; I’ll drive like your
fucking grandmother. Come on, let’s go. I really need to get out of here. We’ll
go down to Venice Beach.”
    I rolled my eyes again then went and put on my
jacket and shoes. My grandmother was dead, but I’d be willing to bet he wasn’t
going to be driving like her, sober or not. I tapped on Susie’s door and said, “We’re
going out for a bit.”
    “You kids be good!” She yelled back.
    When we got out to the parking lot, he handed me the
helmet and swung himself onto the bike. I got on the back and was getting
settled as he said, “Hang on for your life,” with an evil laugh. I started to
climb back off and he laughed again and said, “I’m just kidding, you big
sissy.”
    If I was a praying woman, I would have prayed. As it
were, I got on with my fingers crossed.
    We drove down the street I lived on and he got onto
the freeway. Before too long, miles of the beautiful Pacific Ocean stretched
out along either side of us. He exited the freeway when we got to Venice Beach.
We drove down Abbot Kinney Boulevard, a really cozy little place in L.A. with
mom and pop stores that lined either side of the street as well as specialty
boutiques, casual bars, and top-rated restaurants. It was known as the place
where the rich hippies went to party and shop.
    It was one of the few places in L.A. where you saw
only a handful of chain stores or restaurants. Instead, it was a proud mix of
writers, local artists, and young dot.commers . On the
first Friday of every month, you could buy just about anything out of the
market they did on the street. They would have food and drink vendors and live
music. Susie and I came down sometimes just to hang out and shop. It surprised
me that Tristan brought me there, especially when everything seemed so quiet.
    He drove past the shops and nightclubs and
restaurants and bars until we came to a narrow little street at about a
forty-five degree angle towards the beach. He followed it down until we came to
a small parking lot where he parked and turned off the bike. I slipped off,
pulled off my helmet, and looked around.
    “It’s so peaceful,” I said.
    He got off the bike and said, “Ahem! I think you owe
me a thank you.”
    “For what?”
    “Driving so nicely and getting you here in one
piece,” he said.
    I had to admit, he hadn’t scared me once on the way there.
Maybe I was just getting used to him; that was a scary thought.
    “Yeah, this is where I come sometimes to clear my
head. This time of night, you have the beach to yourself. You want to go down
by the water?”
    “Sure.” I watched him sit down and pull off his
boots and then his socks. He sat them next to his bike and then bent down to
roll up the legs of his jeans. He looked at me then and said,
    “You’re not going to take off your shoes?”
    “What if I step on something?” He rolled his eyes
and shook his head.
    “Live a little, Elly,” was all he said. He started
walking down the steps that led to the sand that stretched out towards the
ocean.
    “Wait for me,” I told him as I slipped off my shoes
and bent down to take off my socks. I rolled my