One Night Stand with the Rockstar (With the Rockstar #1) (rockstar romance series) by Ana W. Fawkes Read Free Book Online Page A

apartment. When the door
clicked shut, she thought about Jessica. There had been a look in Jessica’s
eyes when she left the apartment. A look that almost made Carrie jealous. It
was a look of complete submission, as though Jessica was going to leave, run
into the arms of Alex Slader, and never come back.
    Of course, Carrie didn’t believe
that Jessica would be gone forever.
    Alex Slader was a rockstar. She
knew how rockstars acted. She had some history with rockstars, including a
couple of guys that played with Ashes in Vain. Again, these were all secrets
Carrie had to keep. Her contractual obligations went far and with the last page
of the contract looming... she just needed to hold on tight and wait.
    Bide her time.
    Finish this job first.
    Reap her rewards.
    Enjoy her life.
    A cab waited out front and Carrie
climbed into the back. The arrangements were already made. Carrie didn’t have
to say a word to the cab driver, nor did she have to tip the man when he
dropped her at the restaurant. The cab would remain in the close vicinity for
when Carrie would leave the restaurant accompanied by someone.
    She entered the restaurant and
looked around. She spotted John and the
client . That’s what John referred to everyone as. As though they
were really important people. This guy much older than Carrie, that was the
first thing she noticed. The second thing was the shirt. Top two buttons undone
after a long day of work. The bags under his eyes suggesting to Carrie he
worked long hours. Hours that he probably didn’t need to put in, but did out of
his own sanity.
    Carrie loved it.
    The seduction of men. And what she
got in return. The truest high of it all was listening to Jessica tell her
stories of writing about rock bands. About tough rockstars. Bad boys. Wild men.
    Carrie knew it all and had seen it
all.
    She sat at the bar and ordered a
martini, gently sipping it, waiting for the sign from John. It came about five
minutes later when John stepped up to the bar to order drinks for him and the client.
    “Hello,” John said with a wicked
smile.
    Carrie had to play. She always had
to play. Sometimes John - according to the contract - made her play this game
at the apartment. Pretending they were different people... different voices,
ways to flirt, fantasies...
    “How’s your night?” Carrie asked,
sounding seductive.
    “Better now,” John said.
    He turned and leaned against the
bar, facing the client .
    “Thomas,” John said. “Or just Mr.
Thomas. That’s all that matters.”
    “I like a man that can unbutton his
shirt after a long day of work,” Carrie said. “Hope he has some energy for me.”
    “I’m sure he does,” John said. “Why
don’t I put a good word in for you?”
    “That would be great.”
    Carrie looked over her shoulder and
smiled at Thomas. He smiled back. Typical businessman, worried about the
thickness of the wad of cash in his pocket instead of his cock.
    But it worked.
    It always worked.
    John took money from his pocket and
paid for the drinks. He gave Jessica money too, all part of the act. He then
walked away. That was the signal for five minutes. In that time, he’d explain
to Thomas that he’d paid for something extra for Thomas. After a long negotiation
- one that went in Thomas’s favor - John would give one last peace offering.
    And a man like Thomas wouldn’t
resist a woman like Carrie.
    Once the five minutes were up,
Carrie stood from the bar and walked towards Thomas. John was standing at the
table and patted Thomas on the shoulder.
    “Have a great night,” John said.
“Keep me in mind if you ever change your mind.”
    “It’s a deal,” Thomas said.
    His eyes were on Carrie.
    Eyeing her body, the fantasies
already alive.
    Carrie took a seat and reached for
Thomas’s hand.
    “What’s her name?” she whispered.
    “Who?”
    “Your wife,” Carrie said. “I need
to know her name.”
    “Why?” Thomas asked.
    “So I know who to be jealous of...
when you’re fucking