Rock Stars Do It Harder by Jasinda Wilder Read Free Book Online

slump onto the stool next to him, pry the bottle from his fingers, and drag him out of the club. Gage never said a word, just propped up Chase’s dead weight and dragged him into a cab, into their hotel, into bed.  
    Day came, and with it the oblivion of hangover pain, the haze of travel, set up, performance, and the familiar ritual of going from one show to the next, now drowned in a constant ocean of alcohol.
    Women came and went, but none of them stirred his interest.  
    Jamie stayed in his thoughts, until eventually numbness set in.

CHAPTER 3

    Jamie was drunk. Like, really, really drunk. The kind of hammered where she couldn’t remember where she was, how she gotten there, or what was going on. She was conscious, but unable to form coherent thoughts. She’d been this way for awhile, she thought. She was starting to gain some control over herself, over her awareness.
    Focus, Jamie, she told herself. Wake up .
    She wasn’t really asleep, but it felt that way. She needed to get her bearings. Something was happening, something was going on. Something not right. Deep breath, think hard, blink…blink.  
    Jamie breathed in, cleared her vision, squinting straight ahead. A blur of colors, a wash of inchoate images; the faint scent of booze on someone’s breath, close, aftershave, male deodorant, male musk; soft breath on her face, the sound of male grunting above her, flesh against flesh, the wet sucking sounds of sex. She focused again, forcing coherency to the world: blank white above her, a ceiling with a trapezoidal area of brighter white from a window. Jamie squinted to her right, saw a window in triplicate, shadows beyond, an orange dot of a streetlamp, a gibbous moon.  
    The sounds of sex continued, and then Jamie became slowly aware of physical sensation. The sex was happening to her. Another sound filtered through the haze of alcohol: feminine moans of sex enjoyed. Her voice, moaning softly. She was having sex.
    Jamie gathered herself together and focused once more, this time on the blurry pale skin and dark hair and pale blue eyes above her. No one she knew. Thick, shaggy brown hair the color of walnut shell, unkempt, uncut. A goatee, thick as an overgrown shrub, with a few days worth of growth on his cheeks between the goatee and his long sideburns. Pale blue eyes watching her, slightly unfocused, dilated, reddened. A weak chin, thin features, thin, dry, cracked lips. Jamie continued her perusal of the man she was having sex with, almost apathetically. She wasn’t sure who he was or why she was having sex with him; he certainly wasn’t attractive, not in the way she usually liked her men. He looked young, younger than she, more of a manling, a man-boy, which was also not her type. He was skinny, all hard angles and thin, wiry arms, hairy legs. Again, so not her type.  
    Jamie focused on the rest of her awareness. He did seem to know what he was doing, sexually. Decent rhythm, stroking evenly. He filled her well enough. Not huge, but not tiny. She could feel him inside her, so that was okay. He didn’t weigh much, so she wasn’t being crushed. That always sucked. He wasn’t grunting like some kind of hog, which was nice, just softly groaning low in his throat, a constant sound.  
    Time to finish this and figure out what the fuck was going on. Jamie pushed at his shoulder. “Roll over.”
    “’Kay,” he said, and complied.  
    She settled onto him, making sure to keep her weight evenly distributed. He was just a skinny little guy, no sense in breaking him. She would have to hold back a bit; besides, she was feeling queasy and dizzy, and not really in the mood for a wild frenzy.  
    Jamie adjusted the angle of her hips and set a slow rolling rhythm, supporting her weight with her hands next to his face. A little close for comfort, since she didn’t know him and wasn’t attracted to him, but she could feel a little orgasm coming along nicely, so there was no sense in stopping now. Maybe if she closed