It’s image rehab, plain and simple. A month of fake romance to convince the press that bad boy rocker Ash Black has fallen for a good girl librarian. It should be easy. It’s anything but.
New York City. Vegas. Paris. A whirlwind tour for our whirlwind romance, every step, smile and kiss photographed from every angle. It’s all going according to plan, rehabbing my bad boy rock star image by falling hard for a sweet, wholesome librarian.
There are all kinds of reasons to keep my hands off her. The no-sex clause in our contract. Paparazzi around every corner. She doesn’t trust me because she thinks I’m a player, and she’s right.
But I’m done playing by the rules. I’m rock star Ash Black and I’ve never been good at doing what other people tell me. I’m done mugging for the cameras.
I want her alone, all to myself, where the only rules are the ones I dictate. When it’s just us, there’ll be nothing fake about her begging me to let her come. I’m a musician, baby, and believe me, I’m going to savor the sound of her every pant, gasp and moan.
It’s just a show, a month-long façade. I need to keep my head in the game, my heart under wraps and my body out of reach of his wickedly talented hands.
He’s not making it easy for me. Every time I watch him perform, I go weak in the knees. Every time he romances me over a candlelight dinner, I melt. And the few moments he’s caught me alone, he’s started a fire in me unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s roaring, licking, burning me up.
I’m not good at pretending. And with the heat he’s building in me, I’m not sure how long I’m going to last. One month can feel like forever when you’re so close to exactly what you want but not allowed to touch it.
Sooner or later, a girl has to reach out and touch.