Angel's Addiction

You

Angel’s Addiction

by

Nese Lane

Book One of the Rockin’ Hard Series

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Angel’s Addiction

COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Nese Lane

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

Publishing History

First Scarlet Rose Edition, October 2013

Print ISBN 978-1-62830-075-8

Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-076-5

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To my friend and fellow author, Susan JP Owens.

Thank you for the positive support and encouragement.

I couldn't have done it without you, girl.

A special thanks to my editor Diana Carlile

for her calm direction and infinite wisdom.

You preserved my sanity.

Also, kudos to my Heart of Texas RWA ladies

for the critiques you suffered through. You Rock!

And finally to my own personal hero,

Brian...I love you babe.

PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

Nese Lane

ANGEL’S ADDICTION

Forget Angel's Addiction, lets talk about MY new addiction. Auro is hot sex and candy on a stick!

~Author Autumn Shelley

Author Acknowledgement

I would like to thank Mother Hanna Psychic

for her insight on empathic abilities and for sharing

information about her Romani heritage.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author of this work of fiction

acknowledges the following trademarks:

FIAT: Fiat Group Marketing & Corporate Communication S.P.A

Green Day: Green Day Inc.

Hawaii Five-O: CBS Studios Inc.

Jon Bon Jovi: John Francis Bongiovi, Jr.

Jumbotron: Sony Corporation

Michael Kors: Michael Kors USA, Inc.

Pink: Alecia Beth Moore

Chapter One

Gabriella

Sweat trickled between my breasts as I yanked on the door to the amphitheater. For six months, I’d craved his touch, a lifetime of replaying each moment of our short time together. I shouldn’t have come. Being with him was like a drug to me. Addiction in any form was dangerous. But how do you rehab yourself from a person? How do you insist to your inner voice, making love to a rock star who appeared to sense your every desire was bad for you? You don’t. Or at least, I hadn’t been able to. So much for being a strong, intelligent woman. Oh, well, they say the meek shall inherit the earth.

Yeah, right. I am so screwed.

The music and energy hit me full in the face when the door swung open. I straightened my shoulders and made my way through the throng of people standing in the aisle. The time before, I’d come with friends. This visit was all on me. I searched the stage for his presence. His voice alone could send me into mini-orgasms, but he wasn’t singing now.

Instead, I caught sight of a blond in ragged jeans, crooning into the microphone. Jasper Lyons, lead singer for the opening band, Twisted Talons. His voice was sweet and sultry, almost every woman’s wet dream. Just not mine. He was all kinds of yummy, but too cocky for my tastes. The fans on the floor next to the catwalk observed, completely enthralled.

I wandered to the side of the stage, the laminated badge hanging from my neck, and cut through people and security like a warm knife through butter. All Access Pass. I snorted. If people only knew what it gave admission to.

I had received it three days ago in a pretty box with a single piece of white card stock. Elegantly written in a masculine hand were five little words—Angel Eyes, I need you.

My world had tilted. My first thought was, yes! Then, holy crap, he found me. Now what? It was supposed to have been a fling. How had he found out my name? Discovered where I worked?

Decorator’s Walk, the exclusive store I owned, provided unique items for interior designers. Located in The Houston Design Center, the boutique was away from the bustle of downtown. And I’d made sure to be vague during our time together. I thought back, to figure out what I might have done to give myself away.

The night had started out normal. I went with friends to a local restaurant for dinner and drinks. The week had been long and hard, so I decided to let loose and relax. The parmesan encrusted filet mignon was to die for. I sipped a glass of cabernet, listening to the joking banter among the other women at the table. They were all hardworking ladies who loved getting together. My group kept me grounded.

Lisa called a waiter over and whispered her order into his ear. Crazy heifer, always an instigator. We’d been friends since grade school. Either of us would do whatever it took to help the other.

The server returned with a round of tequila shots for all six of us, accompanied by a tart lime slice. I shook my head, lifting my wine glass.

Lisa stared at me, the fire from her Latina heritage reflected in her eyes. "Give it up, chica. We’re all doing this. Roxy has the company limo for the evening so designated driving isn’t an issue."

Oh, what the hell. I picked up the small glass and licked some of the salt off the rim. It couldn’t hurt to live a little.

On three, Lisa said, with a smirk. One…two…three!

We all downed the smooth agave at the same time. When I bit into the small wedge of citrus, the flavor exploded on my tongue and I licked my lips savoring the taste. After my initial reluctance, more liquor followed. A little reckless, why not? I deserved to let go. Three of the others called it a night and left me, Lisa and Roxy discussing various options to extend our evening out.

We could go to a club. Neon Nights is supposed to be the new rage, Roxy said.

They’re having a party down at East Beach. Sand, warm fire, hot guys. What’s not to like? Lisa chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. Galveston? I mean, was she serious? In my opinion, it was a tad juvenile for twenty-something career women to crash a beach party. But before I could express my reluctance, the owner of the restaurant, Michael Rand, a friend of Roxy’s, walked up to our table with an envelope in hand. Ladies, I hope you enjoyed your dinner.

We all made the right noises, oohing and ahhing over what we’d consumed. I commented on the filet and raved about the asparagus salad. I turned to ask Michael if I could beg the chef for his recipe and noticed him watching Roxy. A look of desire flashed in the depth of his gaze before he cleared his throat. Would you lovelies be interested in taking in a concert tonight?

The roar of the crowd chanting Encore! Encore! brought me back to the present. Michael Rand. He had to be the connection. The night of the concert, he mentioned he had been given the passes by a friend in the band. Roxy’s buddy must have handed over the information needed to track me down. Mr. Rand had some explaining to do, though to be honest, I hoped this night would bring a status change from ex to current lover.

Michael may have given my info, but I’m the one who couldn’t stay away, definitely a glutton for punishment. Hello, I’d walked out last time because he wouldn’t come clean about why he left me hanging at the hotel. There were so many things about him I didn’t know or understand. And now I had chosen to return to his chaotic world. I shoved the irritating inner voice to the back of my mind. The addict in me hoped for the best.

I glanced at the platform once more. Jasper Lyons took his final bow, then exited the stage to screams of I love you, Jasper and I want to have your baby. Some girls didn’t have a clue. Maybe I was one of them. The roadies scrambled to reset the dais for the headliner, Empathy, his band.

The feeling of a small winged creature trying to fight its way out of my stomach made me pause and reevaluate my decision. Most people got butterflies. I got bats. What am I doing? I’d been back and forth for the past three days. My resolution slipped.

I pivoted toward the aisle to make my escape when a familiar voice rang out. Angel? My god, it’s you! Auro is going to freakin’ flip!

I glanced over my shoulder to see who’d recognized me. The rumpled appearance of the mastermind behind the sound and lights portion of the show made me smile. His curly, light brown hair was in disarray, evident from the fact he was running his fingers through it while we spoke. The wire-rimmed glasses balanced on his nose made the geek in him more apparent.

Hey, Chad. How’s it hangin’? A slight blush tinged his cheeks. He was way too easy to tease. Auro shouldn’t be too surprised. He sent me the pass.

From what I hear, he wasn’t sure you would come.

I almost didn’t. Derision hardened my voice.

He ducked his head. Well, I gotta head to the S&L board in the back and make sure things are ready to go. The crowd is getting restless. He gestured to the mass of bodies in the mosh pit. Go on upstairs. I’m sure he’d rather you be in the wings than standing down here in bedlam. Why didn’t you come in through the back entrance?

I shrugged. You know, it never even occurred to me. Only having been to a concert once before, it hadn’t crossed my mind. I was so bad at this rock star’s lover thing. That explained the odd look from the guy taking tickets at the door.

Big Lou is handling security on this side. Go on up and get settled in for the show. With a wave, he headed to the back of the arena and slid behind the immense control panel.

I drew a quick breath to bolster my courage and climbed the metal stairs. At the top, I stopped when a massive body blocked my path.

His head was completely shaved, his arms and neck covered in tribal tattoos. The sleeves on the black security T-shirt he wore stretched taut, trying to cover the enormous biceps. No groupies allowed in this area.

I kept my head down not meeting his gaze. Not even with an All Access Pass?

He snorted. Try another one missy, those only go out to family and sponsors.

I chuckled at his response. This was going to be fun. Big Lou looked scary as hell, but I knew better. What about close personal friends of Auro Moretti?

The weight of his gaze began at my hair and traveled down the entire length of my hour-glass figure. I had dressed sexier than my norm, but it was still a far cry from fan girl attire. I’d settled on a see-thru navy blouse with a dark lace bra underneath. I wore my favorite crushed-velvet pencil skirt with a slit up the front left side that showed flashes of my black stockings but didn’t go high enough to show the garters holding them.

My one sexy indulgence was a pair of four inch, platform, peep-toe, fuck-me heels in black patent leather. Observing discreetly from under lowered lashes, I smothered a giggle when his gaze hovered there briefly before coming back up to my face. I tilted my head back, staring straight at him. The realization of who I was registered on his face. So does the package meet with your approval Big Lou? Or should I turn around and show you my ass as well?

A prickling sensation at the back of my neck was the only warning I had before—

Now that is a vision few men could give the proper appreciation.

I shivered when the sinfully seductive notes of his voice skidded across my senses, causing an immediate dampness between my legs. I turned, searching for the source, gasping when my gaze locked with the decadent chocolate eyes of my former lover.

For a moment, I thought the mind kept memories a little fuzzy as a coping mechanism. I’d remembered his gorgeous face and lithe form, imagining it was him while I pleasured myself. The image before me now was so beyond my paltry musings. He leaned negligently against the metal truss layered with multi-colored lights.

Ro, I whispered.

"Occhi Angelichi."

Angel Eyes, his nickname for me. I hesitated, my body warring with my mind. The physical urge to touch him was excruciating, but inside my head, I was screaming… He will make love to you and move on. Can you deal with that?

Quit lying to yourself. You were the one who left last time…remember?

Got it. Shut up!

My indecision must have shown on my face, because he raised a single brow in question, shoved away from the support beam, and sauntered my way.

His hair was longer than I remembered, the straight ebony tresses hung over his shoulders. The ends flirted with the play of muscles in his chest as he drifted my way. Oh hell, yes, I was doing this. Dealing with the fall out would have to come later.

I gulped down a moan. The passion in his gaze brought back a flash of the night we met.

He’d entered the after party, ignoring the jovial greetings and compliments, perusing the room until he fixated on my face, as if he’d been searching for me, which was crazy since we’d never met. He strode my direction, his actions dripping raw power. It took everything I had not to back away. His breathtaking form towered over me. Strangely enough, he was actually of average height and build. Watching him perform on stage was minimal compared to his charismatic force in person.

Eye candy didn’t come close to describing what stood before me. Holy-shit-hot just about covered it. He was almost effeminate in his beauty. The harsh planes of his cheek and jaw kept his masculinity apparent, but the overall sight made my breath catch.

I will never forget the first thing he said, his Italian accent thick with sentiment. You have stolen my soul with your angel eyes.

It took a second or two to process his statement. I laughed and then covered my mouth with my hand to try to disguise my disbelief. Was this guy for real?

So, is that a standard pick up line for a rock star? Sorry, I really enjoyed the show, but I’m not groupie material. The snarky comment fell from my lips before I could stop it.

His confusion showed plainly on his face. You laugh at my emotion?

I couldn’t believe he was serious. Don’t you think soul stealing is a little strong for someone you haven’t even met?

Auro is my name. And yours is?

Irrelevant.

He raised his brows sardonically. If you will not tell me your name, I will just call you Angel. It seems appropriate considering the color of your eyes. They are so grey they appear silver in the light. I was held spellbound through most of the set by their radiance.

I wondered if this smitten routine worked for him with other women? Not really impressed with the conversation, I turned to look for Lisa or Roxy, hoping to make my excuses. Um, thanks for the compliment, but I need to find my friends.

When I turned to go, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. Please do not leave. I just want to talk…to know you.

His touch electrified me, and the sizzle coursed from my arm straight to my clit. I bit down on the inside of my lower lip to keep a whimper from escaping. I glanced back, first to where he held me in his grasp then up to see the imploring expression on his stunning face. My reaction to the contact of his hand had my senses reeling. If we were ever head to toe, skin to skin, I’d implode.

Of course, that never happened, but eruptions of passion, followed by mind-blowing orgasms did. And the promise of those explosions reflected now in his gaze.

With Big Lou in front of me, Auro stepped behind. He gripped