Tainted: The Complete Enemies-to-Lovers Rock Star Romance Box Set Page 7

  “Holy fuck,” I say when the song comes to a close. “You have to teach me that.”

  “Okay,” he says with a shrug.

  “No, like right now.”

  “Um ...” He glances sheepishly at me and then at Cooper.

  “For the love of god, Zed, teach the woman to pole dance,” Levi says, “while we sit here and watch.

  “You gotta take your pants off. You need skin to grip the pole.

  “Her skin could grip my pole any day,” Levi says, and I turn and give him the finger.

  I smack my hands against Zed’s chest. “Let’s do this, Atwood.”

  “Ali. You don’t have to do this,” Cooper says.

  “I want to do this.” I grab the pole and swing around it the way Zed did moments before, only he made it look effortless and I about wrench my arm out of its socket with that one graceless move. I grunt and try again, only this time there’s a body in my way and I run smack bang into it. My nose stings and I blink away the tears pricking my eyes. “Ow.”

  “Stop,” Cooper says, grabbing hold of my shoulders. “I know this is about what you told me today, and you don’t need to do this, Ali.”

  I think back. I remember giving Cat away, booze, Chinese food, and more booze. “What did I tell you today?”

  “About your ex.”

  Realisation dawns. “Oh, you mean my ex fucking our stripper roommate? No, this has absolutely nothing to do with that and everything to do with feeling limmeratered ... librarated ... liberated,” I say slowly, and then I give a little “yay” with my hands up in the air when I finally get the word to come out right.

  “Jesus, Ryan, the girl wants to get naked in front of us and gyrate on a fucking pole. Why are you ruining this for everyone?” Levi asks.

  “Because I’m not an arsehole like you.”

  “Nope. That’s not true, you’re totally an arsehole,” I say to Cooper, who frowns at me, his arms folded across a broad and very nicely muscled chest. “I really don’t like you, even though that face is so pretty—it’s sooooooo pretty ... But all this”—I wave my hand up and down, encompassing his body—“I really don’t like this.”

  The boys laugh, all except Cooper. He just scowls down at me. I take my fingers and poke at his frowny mouth, making happy and sad Cooper faces.

  “Wait, Red, you lived with a stripper?” Levi asks. “Holy shit, please tell me you took showers together?”

  “Nope.” I move out around Coop and grasp the pole with both hands and, leaning back until the whole world is upside down, I say, “I’m betting she bathed naked with Brad though.”

  “Who’s Brad?”

  “Her ex,” Cooper says, and I could kiss him because I don’t have to say the things I don’t want to say: the scumbag that cheated on me, or the man whom I loved and gave five years of my life to and who destroyed me with one single fucking head job.

  The music changes and the chunky guitar riff to Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” floods the room. I close my eyes and swing my hips to the beat, forgetting Cooper Ryan and the rest of them. I don’t have extensions, or fake tits, or a long, lithe bronzed body like that home-wrecking whore did. It’s entirely possible my legs and bikini line are furrier than Elmo, but damn it, I can be just as sexy as she was. I can be hot, and I can dance on a pole and get men hard.

  I lean against the pole and grab the hem of my shirt, shimmying my hips in time with the music. I pull the shirt free and toss it off towards the couch. It lands on Levi’s lap and he bunches it up, bringing it up to his nose and sniffing hard.

  “Holy—” Leif begins.

  “Fuck,” Levi finishes.

  And then Cooper stands in front of me. He glowers down, I glare back, but I see the heat in his gaze and I know that neither of us are fooling anyone. There’s chemistry between us, too much chemistry for two people who dislike one another so much. Still, given half the chance I’d bang his brains out. I wrap my hand around the pole, and swing off of it, the way I used to swing off street signs when I was a kid.

  “Ali,” Cooper says, his voice louder than the others, and angry. So, so angry. His hands are on my skin, and he’s attempting to cover me.

  “Hey, get your hands off my boobs, mister.” I smack his hands away and he grunts. So I may have forgotten that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I mean, it’s not like I planned to get the boobs out, but they are certainly out now. Before I realise what he’s planning to do, Cooper bends down and wraps his arms around the backs of my knees, then he throws me over his fucking shoulder.

  I scream and pound my fists into his back, and I repress the urge to vomit as he carries me into a room and shuts the door. When he finally sets me on my feet, the room spins. I’m pressed against the door, and Cooper is penning me in. His bright blue-grey eyes stare down into mine. We seem to just stare at one another for a beat, and this crazy idea swims through my head that I should kiss him.

  Kiss him? Are you fucking crazy? We hate this guy. He’s an arrogant, conceited butt-munch. In fact, you could probably replace Zed’s pole with the giant one that Coop has rammed up his arse. He’s so damn serious all the time, and so, so damn good looking. With that stupid smirk, and those deep blue-grey eyes, and that completely biteable bottom lip. Such pretty, perfect lips. Just reach up and pull him down to you. I’m sure he won’t mind.

  “Knock it off,” Cooper says.

  I stare up into his beautiful blazing gaze, ready to strip off the rest of my clothing at a moment’s notice. “Why?”

  “This isn’t you.”

  Wait, what’s not me? Romanticizing what would likely be a fucking horrible kiss with those ridiculously large lips? Or is he talking about the pole dancing? Yeah, it’s most likely that, and they are ridiculously large lips. I just wanna sink my teeth into them. Just once.

  Focus, you dumb whore. The sexy rock star expects a response.

  I take a moment to remember what the hell he just said and then I point an addled hand at his chest, perhaps poking him too hard, judging by the wincing he’s doing. “How do you know? You don’t know the first thing about me, Ryan.”

  “I know that you don’t strip in front of a room full of guys. That’s the difference between you and the whore who stole your boyfriend, isn’t it? Or am I wrong?”

  “Is it hot in here? I feel like there’s a fire in my panties.” I stare at him and watch the fire in his eyes disappear as his pretty face shuts down into yet another scowl. Honestly, it’s like this dude only has two facial expressions. “Let’s get naked.”

  I push him out of the way and unbutton my jeans, sliding them down over my hips and trying to shimmy out of them. I pull them part way down my legs but then I remember that I’m wearing my lucky red Converse and I need to take them off. I bend over to untie the laces and shuck them off, and Coop groans behind me.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, put your clothes back on.”

  “But I’m just getting them off. Shit,” I slur, as my hopping causes me to stumble and fall onto Zed’s bottom bunk. It’s surprisingly comfortable, like a king-sized marshmallow with a smaller bunk on top.

  “Fuck. Will you stop taking your clothes off please?”

  “You don’t like me naked, do you?”

  “I don’t like what I want to do with you when you’re naked,” he replies in a low voice that makes me want to get naked. Oh wait ... “They are two very different things.”

  “I don’t think I’d make a very good stripper.” I pull my legs free of the jeans and celebrate with a victory roar, and then I flop back onto the bed because the whole ordeal of undressing is exhausting.

  He says quietly, “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “I hate you, Cooper Ryan. You destroyed my life.”

  “Believe it or not, that’s not the first time I’ve heard those words.”

  “You’re a butt munch.”

  He laughs. “A butt munch?”

  “Yep. A butt munch.”

  Cooper wets his lips with the very tip of his t
ongue and then he meets my gaze and pretends as if he wasn’t just ogling my very naked breasts. “Just out of curiosity, why exactly am I a butt munch?”

  “Because you’re annoying, and I think you get some sort of sick fascination out of bossing me around.”

  “It’s true, I do.”

  “Oh, I know your type.” I give him my best scowl. He doesn’t look impressed by it. “You’re one of those Alpha-holes, aren’t you?”

  “What the fuck is an Alpha-hole?”

  “You know, one of those bossy dicks. Everything has to be my way and I’ll blindside you with how fucking sexy I am so you won’t see it coming when I slap you upside the head with my big cock, and my bullshit about how I own your pussy, and you belong to me and blah, blah, blah.”

  Coop smirks. Another motherfucking smirk. “Do I own your pussy, Ali-Cat?”

  “Fuck no. I don’t even own that pussy. That bitch needs a fucking leash.”

  He laughs. “Why does she need a leash? If she’s that wild, shouldn’t we embrace her true nature and not keep her captive? Maybe pussy is only a bitch because you won’t let her roam free.”

  “If I let her roam free, she’d be sinking her claws into any available cock in the apartment,” I say, and then I giggle and whisper, “Jesus Christ I’m such a whore. Although ... can you really be a whore if you haven’t had sex in a year, three months and like eight days?”

  “You’re not a whore, Ali,” he says and then he frowns. “You really haven’t had sex in that long?”

  “I really haven’t. In fact, you should take a look at my poor neglected vagina. There are probably cobwebs covering that thing.”

  I hook my fingers into my panties, the only thing I’m still wearing, but Cooper leans across the bed and grabs hold of my forearm. “Will you stop removing your clothes, please? I’m sure you don’t have cobwebs.”

  “Why did you want me, Cooper?” I notice his blank expression and hurry to finish that sentence so I don’t look like a jackarse—though I am kinda drunk, and high. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not getting out of tonight without coming off like a complete arsehole. “Why did you use me as one of your terms? I’m not a bargaining chip.”

  “Do we have to go over this again?” he says, and he doesn’t sound impatient, just tired.

  “Yes, yes we do.”

  “Fine, move the fuck over then,” he says, shuffling me over on the bottom bunk. I don’t know why, though. It’s not like the bed isn’t big enough for us to stretch out.

  “You know you could have been on top?” I say, referring to the other bunk, and he edges in closer to me, wedging me between his body and the wall.

  “Who says I won’t be?” Coop replies.

  “Tease.”

  “Says the woman who’s lying topless in my band mate’s bed and telling me I should look at her vagina.” He laughs. “I used you because I thought you were hot.”

  “You think I’m hot?”

  “Scorching.” I don’t know why, but we both laugh at that. Despite how much he pushes all of my buttons, it feels nice to be lying beside a warm body.

  “You have entirely too much clothing on, Cooper Ryan.”

  “You have entirely too little on.”

  “Again with the trying to cover me up.” I roll into him and point a finger at his chest. “Admit it, Ryan. You don’t like seeing me naked.”

  “Ali, I’ve been trying to get my cock to sit the fuck down since you took your shirt off out in the other room.”

  I shift onto my side and swing my leg over his, pulling his body closer to mine. He stiffens at first, and then moves closer by lifting his arm and allowing me to curl into the crook of his shoulder as he rests his hand along the line of my body. “You’re a hell of a lot more comfortable than sleeping in my car, Cooper Ryan.”

  “You shouldn’t be sleeping in your car. You can come stay with me until we leave for the tour.”

  I scoff. “That’s a terrible idea. The two of us alone in your apartment? We’d most certainly have sex.”

  “Are we having sex now?”

  “No, but we probably would if you weren’t wearing a shirt.”

  He chuckles and shifts on the bed, sitting up and removing his shirt, tossing it off towards the door somewhere. He smirks at me and then he slips back down on the pillow, sliding his arm underneath my head.

  “Mmmm. Skin. You have really nice boy smell.”

  “You have really nice tits.”

  “Thanks.” I close my eyes and snuggle deeper, as Cooper buries his face in my hair.

  I WAKE BECAUSE I’M sweating and drooling all over the pillow, which apparently got a lot harder in the middle of the night. I groan at the pain in my head and wipe at the drool escaping my mouth. Then I wipe at the pillow, which doesn’t so much feel like soft cotton-covered down, but instead feels a heck of a lot like human flesh. I crack open an eyelid and see that I was right; I am sleeping on human flesh. Human flesh that’s warm and very nicely muscled and decorated with tattoos.

  “Morning,” Cooper murmurs, and then it’s suddenly all clear. I bolt upright and whack my head on something hard from above.

  “Ah, fuck,” I groan. When I try to duck my head, I discover two things: one, apparently I’ve lost my ever-loving mind because I appear to be straddling Cooper Ryan on the bottom bed of a bunk. And two, not only am I straddling him, but I’m also in nothing but a pair of panties and he is rock hard. I know this because said rock-hard penis is pushed firmly against my overeager beaver.

  “Holy shit,” I say, and attempt to scramble off him, but I’m yanked back by the roots of my hair.

  I scream, because on top of the almighty hangover I have, some arsehole is pulling my fucking hair out by the roots.

  “Wait,” Cooper growls, and he grabs my hips with one hand, slamming my waist against his.

  “Ow. Let go you fucking psycho.”

  “Your hair is caught on the bed,” he says.

  I stop struggling and go limp. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, just ... hold still.” He sits up, and his position brings us a new closeness. I gasp, as the hardness of him presses against the softness of me. He’s still in jeans. I feel the denim on the insides of my thighs, and thank god, because if he were naked I’m afraid I could not be held entirely responsible for my actions. Coop’s hands are careful and tentative as he works my hair away from the bed. My scalp prickles with relief when he slides his hands free.

  “All done,” he whispers, and his warm breath washes over my breasts, my nipples forming two hard peaks. I send a prayer up to the universe that he won’t see, but the universe is a cock-sucking bitch that needs to choke on a rotten whale’s vagina because Coop’s gaze drops directly to my nip nips and he inhales sharply. Cooper’s hands cup my arse, squeezing my flesh and rocking me back and forward on top of him. My hips flex in time with his as I writhe on his lap. He presses a kiss to my breastbone. He’s not touching either boob yet, but the fact that his head is between them is ... wow ... and then I recover my sanity and come crashing back down to earth. Okay no!

  “No!” I shout and scramble off of him, clobbering my head again on the underside of the top bunk. “We cannot do this. This cannot happen.”

  “I agree,” he says, sliding out of the bed and standing opposite me.

  “You agree? You were the one who was just getting ready to lick my boobs.”

  “Okay, first of all, I don’t lick tits. I suck them, hard, if you’re lucky.”

  “Yeah, well you are not allowed to touch me that way. Or look at me like that. And you’re definitely not allowed to have a huge fucking erection right now,” I shout, staring up at the ceiling because ... holy hot cock, Batman.

  “Afraid I can’t do much about that. It’ll stay that way until I take a piss or I fuck it out.”

  “Okay, stop talking and cover that shit up.”

  “Look who’s talking,” he says, tilting his chin towards me. I glance down at my body with a panicked e
xpression and fold my arms across my chest. I have on black cotton panties, so there’s not a whole lot that needs to be covered there.

  “What in the hell happened last night? And where are my clothes?”

  “Your jeans are on the floor. And your T-shirt is probably still on the floor of Zed’s lounge room where you left it.”

  “Oh god.” I rack my brain, trying to remember why I was taking off my clothes last night. This is why I can’t be trusted to smoke pot. “Did I spill something on them? Or set myself on fire?”

  “Nope.”

  I glare at him incredulously. “Well it’s not like I removed them voluntarily.”

  “Actually you did, right about the time you were giving us a strip tease and attempting to pole dance.”

  “Oh god.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much what we were all thinking.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I meant that as a compliment,” he says, and bends over to lift a shirt from the ground. He throws it at me and I catch it with one hand, flashing him even more nipple. I thread my arms through the holes and pull it down over my body. It smells like him, and I have this odd flashback to snuggling into the crook of his arm, our naked bodies pressing together.

  “So, we didn’t ...?”

  “Nope,” he says, and then he frowns. “We were both pretty wasted though.”

  “Oh, thank god.”

  “Yeah, god forbid you actually fucked me.”

  “Aww, that’s cute. The rock star has a vulnerable side,” I say slipping into my skinny jeans and yanking them up. Whoever invented these should die a slow, horrible death.

  “You know maybe if you worked out some of that tension you wouldn’t be such a bitch. How long was it again? A year? More?”

  The blood drains from my face. “How did you know that?”

  “You talk a lot of shit when you’re drunk, Ali-Cat. It’s cute.”