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- Herausgeber: K.A. LINDE
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Serie: Diamond Girls
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
A tantalizingly scandalous age gap romance from USA Today bestselling author K.A. Linde…
Bryna feels his eyes on her.
Hot, seductive, enticing.
He's at least fifteen years older than her, and he knows exactly what he's doing to her with that look.
Walking away would be the smart thing to do...
But she can't. Not that first night when he takes her home and claims her body. Not when he shows up in her life again with expensive gifts to win her trust. Not even when she's falling for him.
And everything else is falling apart...
"A darkly glamorous joyride through sin, pleasure, and the finer things in life, no matter the cost. A must read!" –Lauren Blakely, New York Times bestselling author
"A quick, powerful, all-consuming read that had and still has my emotions spinning in a million different directions! K.A. Linde in her finest angst-hour!" –Gail McHugh, New York Times bestselling author
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Seitenzahl: 248
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Rock Hard
Book One in the Girl’s Best Friend Duet
K.A. Linde
Copyright © 2015 by K.A. Linde
All rights reserved.
Visit my website at
www.kalinde.com
Join my newsletter for free books and exclusive content!
www.kalinde.com/subscribe
Cover Designer: Staci Hart, www.quirky-bird.com
Photography: kiuikson, depositphotos
Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing,
www.unforeseenediting.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1948427289
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
A Girl’s Best Friend
Acknowledgments
Also By K.A. Linde
About the Author
1
Broken—mind, body, and soul.
Begging to forget her meaningless existence, to be commanded and molded and remade into someone else, she needed the embrace of the nightlife, the pounding of the music, the sweat, the intoxication just to feel again.
If even for one night.
Allure wasn’t Bryna’s usual scene. She preferred exclusive nightclubs in Beverly Hills and house parties that catered to her and her überwealthy friends at Harmony Prep. She favored places where everyone knew her name, and she could rule as queen bee. But, tonight, she didn’t want to rule her throne.
She wanted to forget her own reality and get lost in the imagined one that Allure provided. The room was full to the brim with bodies grinding to the music and people drinking top-shelf liquor and indulging in the dark secret desires of their hearts.
She swirled the gin martini in her hand and pursed her lips as she surveyed the room.
It was easier here.
Easier to forget about her Hollywood parents and their pathetic divorce. Easier to forget that her high-profile director father had remarried this summer to some Valley trash he’d been having an affair with while he was with her mom. Easier to forget that she had three new stepsiblings and that the oldest, Pace, was only a year younger than her and the new starting quarterback at school.
Easier to forget about everything.
At least everything that was cluttering up her picture-perfect life. Despite the heinous drama consuming her, she needed to remember who she was and what she stood for.
She was fucking Bryna Turner.
A goddess at Harmony. Queen bee. Head cheerleader.
She had started dating Gates Hartman before his breakout role, and now, he was the hottest up-and-coming actor who had hit Hollywood since Ryan Gosling.
She refused to give two shits about what anyone thought of her, especially her parents. Her world might have shifted with the upheaval of their marriage, but she had remained strong for all the eyes always watching her.
But tonight was different.
Tonight, no one was watching.
Tonight, she could lose herself, lose control.
And maybe that was what brought him closer.
2
“Scotch neat.”
The bartender nodded at the man standing next to Bryna at the bar and grabbed the top-shelf liquor.
Perfect.
Bryna tipped back the last of her martini and set it down on the counter. She licked her lips. “One more for me.”
The man turned to take her in. His eyes snagged on her slinky royal-blue dress, her chest popping out of the deep scoop neck. Then he looked up into her baby-blue eyes. He grinned. “Put that on my tab.”
She met his gaze and arched an eyebrow. “Thanks.”
“I’ve never seen you here before,” he said a moment later.
“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough.”
Oh, he liked that.
He angled his tall muscular body toward her. His hair was dark as night, cut short and styled like a European soccer player. His eyes were milk chocolate and danced in the dim light. “I’m glad I’ve found you now.”
A smile stretched across her face. She couldn’t disagree with him.
He splayed his hand out on the bar to reach for the scotch resting before him, and her stomach dropped.
Third finger on the left hand.
Silver band.
Married.
It might as well have been a brand on his skin. It was screaming at her to walk away.
No. Don’t walk.
Run. Run far away from this.
Bad, bad idea.
She dropped the seductive smile from her face. As soon as the martini was set in front of her, she took the drink and backed away. She wouldn’t do that. Even flirting with him made her skin crawl. She liked bad ideas, but she had lines she wouldn’t cross. Her parents’ marriage had been torn apart by this very thing. Her stepmother, Celia, had destroyed everything sacred, walked across every line, and forced Bryna’s father to leave her mother.
Vows were supposed to mean something, and Celia hadn’t cared about them. Bryna barely saw her father now as he was always out working on-site. Instead of moving out with her mother, she had stayed in his house with that wretched woman because of Harmony. She only had one year left. Leaving now and starting over at some other school would be impossible.
“Are you all right?” he asked, lightly placing his right hand on her slim shoulder.
She recoiled from his touch. How dare he!
“You’re married,” she spat.
“Oh.”
He looked down at his hand, and his face fell. The sadness in his eyes was all-encompassing before he recovered and locked everything away inside of him. She only recognized the reaction because she had been doing it every day for the last year as her whole world had split apart, leaving her in perpetual free fall.
“I’m…we’re separated.” He slid the ring from his finger and held it out in front of him. “Honestly, I forgot I had it on.”
She pursed her lips. She didn’t want him to bullshit her. Who forgot they were wearing a goddamn wedding ring?
“You don’t believe me,” he said, taking in her appearance. He tucked the ring into his pocket, out of sight.
“My tolerance for married men is very low.”
He smirked. “Daddy issues?”
“Like you’d never believe.”
“Let me guess. He left her for a younger woman.”
“Bingo.”
“Well, I’m not in that situation.”
She shook her head. “Nor will I be, which is why I have to say good-bye.”
“Stay.”
Her eyes met his, and he wasn’t exactly pleading with her. It was more of a command, more of a desire to get to know her, to find out what was making her run so easily.
“I won’t be made a fool of,” she told him.
“I know.”
“You’re not with her?”
“No,” he answered immediately.
She narrowed her eyes, and he knowingly met her gaze. No hidden agenda. Just a mirror of the emotions skittering through her.
“Fine.” She snapped her fingers at the bartender. “Tequila shots, please.” She held up two fingers.
The bartender poured the shots for them, and they knocked them back. The liquid burned down her throat, but she ignored the pain as she sucked on the lime. His eyes traveled to her lips. She purposely licked the juice off her finger. Her tongue swirled her thumb, and he watched her with utter fascination and longing.
He possessed none of the idiocy of the guys she had dated before, not even Gates. The person in front of her was a man. And completely delectable. At the youngest, he was in his late twenties. No less than ten years older than her seventeen years.
Even before he ever made the first move, she knew that he knew what he was doing to her with that look.
3
“So, what about you?”
“What about me?” Bryna asked.
“Well, you can’t possibly be single.”
She laughed lightly and ducked her chin to her chest. No, of course she wasn’t single. But as far as she knew, Gates didn’t care if she flirted with every guy in Hollywood as long as she was on his arm when he needed her. They had known each other a long time, and he liked that he didn’t have to explain himself to her, let alone have her fawn over him for doing something he had always been naturally good at. She treated him exactly the same way she did everyone else, and their relationship had blossomed naturally out of their mutual understanding.
“You say that with such surety,” she said.
He tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. “You are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. I’m sure you have people knocking your door down.”
“Yet I’m here all alone.”
“Waiting for someone?” he guessed.
She shook her head.
“Anyone going to break down my door when we leave?”
Damn. He was so sure of himself. She liked the self-confidence he wore like a cloak. It was her biggest turn-on.
Gates had it in spades, but it was nothing compared to this guy. And it wasn’t as if Gates would be busting down anyone’s door to get to her. He was on set on the East Coast, filming his new movie, Broken Road. She hadn’t seen him in months, not since she had flown out there this summer.
And she wasn’t even sure Gates would be angry. She could probably tell him tomorrow that she had fucked this guy, and she doubted she would see an ounce of fury. Maybe some wounded pride. Maybe a touch of jealousy over someone touching what belonged to him. But he wouldn’t really be angry.
Their relationship had never been like that. Sometimes, she thought she was just more of a convenience for him.
Her silence spurred the man forward.
“Ah, so there is someone.”
She shrugged and averted her baby-blue eyes.
“An idiot to leave you here all alone,” he continued.
“Why? He’s a very secure man. I doubt he’d think anyone could come in an sweep me off my feet.”
“Then, he truly is an idiot,” he said in a heartbeat.
He stepped toward her, and she had to tilt her head up to look at him.
But she didn’t move away or back down. She could play along. “You don’t know him.”
“Should I?”
She bit her lip. She didn’t want him to know who she was. If she told him she was dating Gates Hartman well then, that would be the end of their game. And she really liked playing this game.
“No,” she finally said. “I don’t think you should.”
“Good.”
His hand slid around her waist where his long fingers splayed across her lower back. Her heart thrummed to a beat from his touch. She was warm everywhere at once. If he kept this fire simmering in her core, she knew there would be no going back.
She held on to her confidence and met his dark gaze. The gaze of the devil incarnate tempting her to sin, offering her the apple from the Garden of Eden. Perhaps he was a snake. But if sin tasted this good, then she understood why Eve had thirsted for knowledge.
“Dance?” he suggested.
His hand slid into hers and drew her out to the dance floor. They were soon consumed by people and lost in the crowd. He pressed her back into his chest. Their hips swayed to the beat. His fingers dug into the material of her tight dress, and she groaned at the feel of him. He knew exactly what he was doing.
The heat between them escalated. He pulled her hands over her head and around his neck. He pressed his pelvis into her ass as she ground herself against him. His mouth touched the sensitive skin on her neck, and she shivered all over. He traveled up to her ear, and then grasped her chin, forcing her to give him better access. His lips settled along her jaw and then her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed in the dark room. Her skin vibrated under his touch as she anticipated what was to come. She swallowed, barely breathing, as she felt the gentlest of brushes. A taste. A test.
Then, he was kissing her. The world went dark. The kiss was hot and insistent and as greedy as the music moving through the bodies around them.
His tongue brushed against her lips, and she opened her mouth to let him in. Their tongues met, and she was lost. She voraciously pulled his mouth down onto hers, never wanting to break away.
As the kiss intensified, he turned her around and drew her into his arms. Her body was on fire. Her face was flushed. Her hands clutched the collar of his shirt. She could do this all night.
She broke away, breathless. Her pupils blasted out, and her chest heaved.
Their game was coming to an end. She had forfeited the prize in the heat of the moment on the crowded dance floor.
“Leave with me,” he breathed into her ear.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
He lightly nipped her ear, and she shivered.
“You don’t.”
4
The inclination to leave with him ate at her like a virus infecting her body. She had been with older men before—not quite as old as him, usually college guys—so it wasn’t just the taboo factor that infatuated her.
It was something about him.
She didn’t know his name, where he was from, what he did. She didn’t know anything. Just that he was married. Separated. She gathered he was wealthy by the fact that he was at this club, wearing an expensive suit, and drinking top-shelf scotch. All these things mattered in her world even if her dad had chosen to ignore them by marrying beneath him.
But what intrigued her the most was precisely that she didn’t know if she could trust him. Yet, without that knowledge, maybe because of the danger and mystery, she still wanted to leave with him.
She was sure it was more than just the fact that she wanted to fuck him. It was something in his eyes that said he understood her. It was something in his smile that said he identified with what she was going through. It was something in his confidence that said he recognized the act she was putting on. It was something about the desire in that kiss that said he would worship her.
Fuck caution.
“Let’s go,” she said finally.
He smiled smugly as if he always knew things would end this way. Perhaps he had. She hadn’t exactly made it difficult for him. She could have, but she was sure he still would have fought for her.
“I’ll close out my tab,” he told her.
He took her hand and guided her back to the bar.
While he had his back to her, she fished her phone out of her clutch and pulled up Gates’s number. She hit Call and waited. He answered at the last second in a drowsy haze. She hadn’t even considered that she was three hours behind him. The time difference always fucked with his sleep schedule.
“Babe,” he murmured in greeting.
“It’s over, Gates.”
“Hmm?” He yawned on the other line. “Tonight?”
“No. Forever.”
“What’s going on?” He seemed to be growing more alert.
“I’m breaking it off.”
“You with someone else?”
He didn’t even sound hurt, just curious. She had suspected as much, but it irritated her more than she had thought.
“Yeah.”
“All right. I’ll see you when I get back to L.A.”
“No,” she said, frustrated. “This is really over.”
He chuckled softly into the phone. “Bri, you want other dick. That’s fine.”
“Why is that fine?”
Gates always brought out the more human side of her that she usually hid behind her hard exterior.
“Because I’m on the other side of the country and not able to give you what you need. When I come back, we’ll figure it out.”
She shook her head. Why did he have to take this so calmly?
Fucking asshole.
“We’re not going to figure it out. I don’t think I should have to dumb it down for you to understand what I’m telling you. I said, it’s over. I mean, it’s over. Good night, Gates.”
She hung up the phone before he could say another word. Well, that had been an interesting conversation. Of all the things she had expected from Gates, she hadn’t wagered for disbelief. She was Bryna Turner. She could get any guy she wanted. How could he not believe that she would find someone else? Was he that conceited?
By the time he realized that she was serious, she would be long gone.
“Ready to go?” the man asked, coming up behind her.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He didn’t ask about her conversation, and she was glad. She didn’t want to tell him about it.
“Lead the way,” she told him.
Grabbing her hand, he walked her through the crowded bar and out onto the street. He passed his ticket to the valet. A few minutes later, a shiny Jaguar convertible pulled up in front of Allure.
She raised her eyebrows in appreciation. Her father collected cars, so she had been taught to drive a stick as soon as her feet could reach the pedals. She wouldn’t mind taking this beauty out for a joyride. Her eyes traveled back to the man who was climbing into the driver’s side. Maybe a joyride of a different nature.
“Nice ride,” she said. “XKR-S, next year’s model. This thing goes zero to sixty in about four seconds and has a top speed of, what? One eighty? Two hundred?”
“One eighty-six.” He looked over at her, impressed. “You know cars?”
“I know a thing or two,” she said, running her hand down the side of the car. She sank into the passenger seat and glanced over at him in wonder. “So, what do you do?”
He winced slightly and gave her an apologetic look.
Oh.
So, it was like that? She wasn’t supposed to know any personal details about him?
That was fine.
Whatever.
“Never mind,” she muttered. She wasn’t that kind of girl. Fuck!
“Sorry. The last woman who asked me that was a gold digger.”
He did look like he was sorry. But he had just compared her to a fucking gold digger.
“And do you think I’m a gold digger just because I asked you about your job?”
He shrugged. “You can never be too careful.”
She glared at him. If she was going to share information about herself, then she could dress him down with how ludicrous it was to call her a gold digger. Her father was a multimillion-dollar director, her mother was an actress, and even her grandmother had been a successful actress. She would never need to stoop to such degrading extremes for money. She lived in Bel Air and went to school in Beverly Hills.
Enough said.
“I’m not a fucking gold digger. I just like your car.”
“Okay.”
“And anyway you wouldn’t be driving it if you didn’t want people to admire it.”
He shrugged. “Fair enough.”
The drive to his place didn’t take as long as she had anticipated. With him driving a car like this, she had expected him to be in a gated community in the Hills. She knew the area they were in though. It was full of wealthy apartments and condominiums for people who worked in the city and didn’t want to deal with traffic. Her father preferred to stay at a suite at the Beverly Wilshire, or the like, when he had business in the city, but he had colleagues who would get similar apartments.
They took the elevator to the top floor and walked into a large suite apartment. It was immaculately decorated but didn’t have a scrap of personal touch to it. No pictures of the wife he was separated from. Nothing to suggest he was anything but an affluent businessman.
“Drink?” he offered.
“How about a name?”
He sent her a curious look and then walked toward a bar on the other side of the room. He poured two glasses of scotch from a crystal decanter and brought one over to her. She weighed it in her hands and nearly smiled in delight at the quality.
“Have you ever done this before?”
She stared straight ahead. “Done what?”
He came up behind her and spoke softly into her ear, “Been with a stranger.”
She shivered. “Yes.”
It was kind of the truth. She had fooled around with guys she had met only a handful of times at parties, but she had never allowed them to go further than that.
“I like the mystery of not knowing.” He trailed his hand down her arm.
She had to do everything not to shiver all over again. “So…you do this often?” She didn’t keep the bite out of her voice. He laughed melodically behind her and nipped at her neck. “Is this why you’re separated?”
He sighed. “No. That’s…complicated.” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. “But to answer your first question, I don’t do this often. And I’ve certainly never met anyone as beautiful as you.”
“Flattery doesn’t work,” she said.
“Oh?” His hand trailed down the gold zipper of her form-fitting dress. He stopped right before it reached her ass and then splayed his hand out across her lower back. “It’s hardly flattery when it’s the truth.”
“A name.”
“Any name?”
She turned around to face him and stared up into his intense dark eyes. What secrets was he hiding? Could it possibly be as many as she was keeping?
She felt it in the pit of her stomach that somehow he felt as empty as she did. She walked through life, surrounded by a sea of blindingly happy people. Life had been laid out before them, and they didn’t have a care in the world.
But when she looked up at him, the emptiness that had consumed her after her parents’ divorce, maybe even before that, seemed to find a twin.
“Just a name. It can’t be that hard.” She breathed out slowly in anticipation. “I’m Bri.”
With the nickname, she could at least keep him from figuring out that she was Bryna Turner. There weren’t many Brynas in Hollywood, even fewer pronounced Brihn-uh. She wasn’t ready for him to know that name, not when it could lead him back to the fact that she was in high school.
He mulled over the name for a second before sticking his hand out and responding, “Jude.”
5
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He took a drink of his scotch. His eyes stared straight through her.
“Just admiring your taste in scotch.”
Bryna distracted herself from that stare by taking a sip of her drink. Single malt, undeniably smooth, and utterly delicious. She did not need this to feel more confident. She was not nervous. In fact, she wanted this.
She was Bryna Turner. Nothing could break her stride.
His lips quirked up. “You know one of the first things I noticed about you?”
“My tits?” she joked, deflecting.
His eyes flicked down to her exposed cleavage and then back up. “After I saw how beautiful you were.”
“What?” She was intrigued.
“How truly empty you looked.”
In shock, Bryna faltered backward a step. She didn’t care that his words exactly mirrored what she thought about him every time she looked into his eyes. It didn’t matter that she truly did feel empty or that her parents’ divorce had rendered her this way. How could he say that to her face?
“I am not empty,” she spat.
“I’m sure that’s what you tell everyone.” He set his glass down on the coffee table and came back around to stand behind her. “You hide behind a wall of self-confidence. No one can see past the hardened exterior.”
She felt the faint brush of his hand along her shoulder and up her neck.
“But I do. I see what you keep hidden, what you want no one else to see.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is who I am.”
Jude’s mouth replaced his hand, and suddenly, it took everything in her not to lean back into that kiss. Chills ran up her arms. The anticipation of what was to come increased her sensitivity to his touch. Every brush, every touch of his lips sent a shock wave through her system.
“This body,” he murmured, running his hands down her sides and over her hips, “hides how hollow you are on the inside.”
He dug his fingers into her hips, and she struggled to remember how to respond.
“I…no.”
“Something stripped you down and left your soul bare.” His hand slid to her thigh and under the hem of her dress. “As bare as you’re about to be.”
“Jude,” she whispered. She didn’t know what else to say. She wanted to argue. But really, what was the point? How could he see what no one else had been able to?
“You know I’m right.” He roughly turned her around and looked deeply into her eyes.
His fingers twined in her hair, and she closed her eyes as he tilted her head up toward him.
“Tell me I’m right.”
Trying to keep her walls up around him was futile. Everywhere else, she had to pretend that she was whole and fine, that nothing could bring her down, nothing could hurt. If the opportunity to be herself and to be with someone who understood her pain was presenting itself to her, then she was going to take it.
“You’re right.”
He didn’t ask her to talk about it or explain the feelings behind her emptiness. And she didn’t ask him to try to make it better. A mutual understanding bloomed between them, something no one else could touch. In that moment, she knew she was lost.
His lips crashed down on top of hers, forceful and demanding. He was in charge. He took control. It was clear he knew exactly what he was doing.
Her scotch glass disappeared from her hand, and then he guided her back to his bedroom. The glass balcony doors, covered in sheer curtains, let in a dim glow of light. A king-sized bed took up the center of the room with a black leather bed frame, a charcoal bedspread, and black throw pillows. It was dark and exotic.
Jude lips melted with hers for a minute, tasting and testing. When he pulled back, she was left wanting more. She didn’t feel as hollow with his lips on hers.
“Stand right here,” he instructed, positioning her to face the bed.
She curiously looked at him as he sat down in front of her. She wanted to make some comment about how she could have just stood at the bar, but she held her tongue. She was confident in her skin. She didn’t mind him examining her from head to toe.
And he did just that.
“Now, take off your dress. Slowly.”
She arched an eyebrow, and he just smirked back in return with a challenge glinting in his eyes. She could play this game if that was what he wanted even if it would be her first real striptease.
Turning to face away from him, she spread her legs more than shoulder width apart, stretching the elastic material until the dress rode up her legs. Then, she reached for the zipper on the back and very carefully dragged it down. First, she revealed the royal-blue La Perla bra, then the matching lace panties, and finally the curve of her ass. She dropped the dress off of each shoulder and then gingerly pushed it over her hips where it pooled at her feet.
She heard his intake of breath, and it encouraged her to continue.
She slowly walked in a small half circle to face him in nothing but her lingerie and Louboutins. Red lacquered heels were her specialty.
“Proof that your dress looks better on my floor.”
Bryna walked forward, one foot in front of the other, swaying seductively. She pushed him backward on the bed, climbed on top of him, and threaded his tie through her fingers. “So will your suit.”
“I’m going to fuck you in those heels.” He rolled her over on the bed and started stripping out of his suit. “Just those heels.”
“You’ll have to do something about this lingerie.”
“I don’t care if I have to rip it off,” he said as his pants fell to the floor, leaving him in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
His body covered hers a second later, reaching under her body until he unclasped her bra. He pulled it over her head and watched as her glorious breasts fell into place.
“Fuck,” he muttered. His hands caressed them, stiffening her nipples, and then he sucked on the hardened points.
She arched her back and wound her fingers through his hair. He hadn’t moved an inch lower, and her blood was pounding. She was already wet and close to soaking through the thin material keeping him from her. She tilted her hips up hoping to encourage him to move farther south, but he only laughed at her.
