Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar (Raising Havoc Bandmates #4)

Prologue

Mallory

The bass thrums through my body, neon lights flashing across my skin.

The air is thick with the scent of spilled beer and designer perfume, a heady mix that makes my head spin. Everywhere I look, people move in a hypnotic rhythm, a sea of bodies seeking escape or connection or both. The condensation from my shot glass leaves a cool trail down my arm, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from the packed dance floor.

It’s a sensory overload, one that used to be as familiar to me as breathing.

The moment I see Jace Brooks walk into the club, I know I’m in trouble. My carefully constructed plan threatens to crumble with just one look from those piercing blue eyes. I down another shot, hoping the burn of alcohol will drown out the voice in my head screaming, “Leave!”

But I don’t leave. I can’t. Because tonight, Mallory Dominic, reformed party girl, is on a mission to prove she’s changed. Even if that means resisting the one man who unravels me.

Mallory Dominic, savvy, professional woman. That’s who I am now. Or who I’m trying to be.

“Is this seat taken?”

I look up, ready to dismiss whoever thinks they have a chance, but the words die in my throat. Jace Brooks is standing before me and, quite simply, gorgeous — and also off-limits, considering he’s in my brother’s band.

Tousled dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a jawline that could cut glass. His leather jacket and worn band tee scream bad boy.

Old Mallory would’ve dragged him to the nearest dark corner.

New Mallory arches an eyebrow. “Depends. Planning on using a cheesy pickup line?”

He smiles and slides onto the stool next to me. “Jack and Coke, please. And whatever the lady’s having.”

“The lady can buy her own drinks,” I say, but without heat.

God, why did it have to be him? Of all the guys in this club, it had to be the one who could complicate everything.

“So, Mallory,” Jace leans closer, “what brings a girl like you to a place like this on a Tuesday night?”

The scent of his cologne makes my head spin. Or maybe that’s the alcohol.

“Would you believe market research?”

He chuckles. “For what, the correlation between bad decisions and tequila shots?”

“Something like that.” I find myself smiling back. There’s something about him, an easy charm that feels genuine rather than practiced.

But I can’t forget who he is—my brother’s bandmate, Raising Havoc’s new rock god.

Trouble with a capital T.

“Well, in the interest of your research,” Jace says, leaning closer, “can I interest you in a dance?”

I hesitate. This isn’t part of the plan. I’m supposed to have one drink, people-watch for an hour, then go home to my sad, empty apartment and feel superior about my life choices.

But as Jace stands and holds out his hand, his eyes twinkling with mischief and promise, I feel a spark I haven’t felt in years.

Oh, what the hell. One dance couldn’t hurt.

As I take his hand, I feel the old Mallory stirring, the girl who lived for nights like this. The girl who would’ve seen Jace as a delicious challenge, consequences be damned.

But the new Mallory, the one I’ve worked so hard to become, whispers warnings in my ear. One dance could lead to one night, and one night could destroy everything I’ve built. My career, my brother’s trust, my own self-respect – it’s all hanging in the balance.

I push the thoughts aside as we move together, his hands on my hips and my arms around his neck, I allow myself to get lost in the moment.

The music, the heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of his cologne – it all swirls together, making me feel alive in a way I’d almost forgotten.

This is dangerous.

“This doesn’t end with us leaving together,” I state firmly.

Jace’s eyes spark with challenge. “Night’s young, sweetheart. Never say never.”

He doesn’t believe a single word I’m saying, and he probably wouldn’t be wrong if I was still that party girl I left behind.

But I’m not. I can’t be.

I might have given in to a dance, which is quickly turning into a second, but I refuse to cross the line by taking him home with me.

No matter how tempting he is.

Each song blends into the next and I finally push away from Jace breathlessly, then carefully make my way over to our discarded drinks at the bar.

My skin tingles where his hands touched me, and I try to shake off the feeling.

The ice has melted in my drink, diluting the alcohol inside. I wave the glass into the air for the bartender.

For a moment, I’m hopeful that Jace has decided to leave me to my own devices.

No such luck.

His frame casts a shadow behind me, and he reaches a long, corded arm over my shoulder to snatch his drink from the bar.

I shiver from the close proximity but keep my face neutral as he angles himself into my line of sight.

Jace’s eyes soften, a flicker of understanding passing across his face. “You’re fighting pretty hard against something, Mallory. What are you trying to prove?”

His question catches me off guard. I blink in surprise but quickly recover.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smirks at me, leaning close enough that his breath skates across my skin. “Come on, Mallory. You’re desperately trying to keep it together, turning away from what you truly want.”

“Oh,” I say, smiling sweetly at him. “Let me guess, that’s you?”

Jace shrugs and leans against the bar, his muscles bulging as he does. “I mean, you can’t deny the chemistry.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Been told a time or two, yet you’re still entertaining me… why is that, huh?”

He arches a brow, a glint in his blue eyes as he dares me to lie to him, and I’m tempted to do exactly that.

I don’t want him to know that my body started aching for him the moment his hands fell to my hips out on the dance floor or how my skin heated under his touch as he roamed those large hands over my body.

That’s old Mallory’s behavior.

And yet...

Before I can signal another drink, the bartender is already walking over with a new one that she sits right in front of me while simultaneously winking at Jace. She makes sure to sway her hips dramatically as she walks away, looking over her shoulder to see if he’s paying attention to her, and it’s the frown on her face that has me turning toward him.

“Are you jealous?”

“Now you’re delusional,” I mutter.

But am I? The thought of him with someone else makes my stomach churn .

Jace places his arms on either side of me, caging me against the bar, and leans close so that his mouth whispers in my ear. “Tell me, Mallory, was it the idea of me having her pressed up against the wall?”

Images flash through my mind. Jace with the bartender. Jace with me.

I grip my glass until my knuckles turn white.

He’s loving this. And part of me is, too.

“Confident in yourself, huh?” I manage to choke out.

He chuckles, pressing himself against me and dragging his finger along my collarbone. "It has nothing to do with that," he rasps. "It's in the way your skin prickles at my touch, and your ragged breaths the closer I trace along your waist."

I’m desperately trying to hold on to my senses.

The alcohol swimming through my veins loves the attention he’s giving me, and Jace knows it. He’s counting on it.

Maybe for just one night, I could be the old Mallory… consequences be damned.

No. I can’t. I shouldn’t.

But I want to.

I look into Jace’s eyes, seeing the desire there. The promise of a night I’ll never forget.

"Sweetheart, I can't take my eyes off you. I'm dying to be with you. Let's get out of here, just you and me - what do you say?" he whispers urgently."

I struggle to breathe when his heated gaze softens over me.

My resolve crumbles as I drink in the sight of Jace Brooks. So much for keeping things professional - my body's got other ideas.

"Your place or mine?" I whisper.

His grin is triumphant as he takes my hand. "Yours."

Holding me close, he leads me to the rear exit, where his driver is already waiting to escape from any pesky paparazzi.

As we step into the cool night air, reality hits me like a splash of cold water.

What am I doing?

Jace’s hand is warm in mine, tugging me gently towards his waiting car. I hesitate, teetering on the edge of a decision that could change everything.

“Last chance to back out,” Jace says softly, his eyes searching mine.

I open my mouth to say no, to be the responsible Mallory I’ve worked so hard to become. But the words won’t come.

Because in this moment, with the city lights reflected in Jace’s blue eyes and the promise of a night I’ll never forget hanging between us, I realize something that terrifies me more than any potential consequence.

I don’t want to say no.