Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar (Raising Havoc Bandmates #4)

4. Jace

4

Jace

My jaw clenches involuntarily as I watch Trevor smile at Mallory. Again. The easy way he leans towards her, the sparkle in his eyes - it’s like a knife twisting in my gut. I have no right to feel this way, but try telling that to the green-eyed monster clawing at my insides.

All I want is a nice shower to wash away the small amount of makeup we were forced to put on today, then forget about the fact that I’m going to be close to Mallory throughout the duration of our tour.

I burst into my room, slamming the door behind me. My fingers fumble with my phone, desperate for a distraction. Music floods the room, pulsing through the Bluetooth speaker in the bathroom. I strip off my clothes, scattering them across the floor as I stumble towards the shower.

The hot spray hits my skin, and I lean into it, letting the water wash away the day. But it can't wash away the image of Mallory that's burned into my mind.

I close my eyes and lean forward, pressing my forehead against the shower wall as a fantasy I shouldn’t be having floats across my vision.

Mallory steps into my room, smirking at my form sitting at the edge of my bed, and she shakes her head at me. “I didn’t strike you as the jealous type. You keep surprising me.”

“I’m protective of what’s mine,” I say simply, staring at her form as she starts taking steps toward me.

She arches a brow. “Yours, huh?”

“You’re damn right,” I growl, reaching when she gets close enough and tugging her over to me until she straddles my lap.

The laugh she lets out shakes me straight to my core, making me more feral for her than I already am, and I lean forward to glide my tongue against the couple inches of exposed skin along her neck.

“I approve of these little outfits you’re wearing.”

“Approve? As if I need your permission,” she says breathlessly, still trying to argue even though I’ve got her in my clutches.

“The less skin you show, the better it will be for everyone who stares at you, wouldn’t you say?”

She flutters her eyelashes at me when she looks at me, smirking. “Even if it’s all for you?”

I hum in agreement. “Guess I could let it slide then.”

I run my hands along the skirt she’s wearing, while toying with the neckline of her shirt with my teeth, and stop my perusal when I get to the zipper located at the waistline right against the small of her back.

Mallory lifts up, placing her feet flat on the floor, and allows me to spin her around so I can push the skirt down her slender legs. The fabric pools at her feet, showcasing the lace thong she’s been sporting underneath, and I growl low in my throat.

“God, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

I slam my hand against the shower, sending the fantasy scattering away, but it doesn’t stop me from gliding my hand down and wrapping it around my hardened length. Mallory’s hands are what I would rather have gripping me, but this is the best I’m going to get right now.

The way she looked in that skirt, even if it barely gave me a glimpse of her thighs, is enough to have my spine tingling.

For a moment, I go back to our night together, and think about what it would’ve been like had she touched me in the way I’m desperate for right now. If she were to walk into my bathroom right now, would she be gentle or as eager as I am?

I’d like to think she would be eager.

She would rip the shower curtain open, baring me to her, and she’d slowly lick her lips and eye me with nothing but hunger in her eyes. Mallory would gaze at me as if she’s the predator and I’m the prey.

I imagine her hand replacing mine, the tips of her fingernails dragging over my dick like a balm to my soul. Even though I know she’s not truly touching me, that doesn’t stop the fire from igniting through my body as I eagerly try to bring myself to release.

Mallory would see the effect she has on me, then wrap that pretty mouth of her around my length and guide me so far down her throat I would have no choice but to come down it.

As if on cue, my vision whitens, and I jerk my hips forward as come shoots out and onto my hand. The hot water spraying over me immediately washes away the evidence, but it’s going to stay imprinted in my head for the rest of time.

I lean my forehead against the cool tile, letting the water wash over me. What the hell am I doing? Fantasizing about my best friend’s sister, my colleague’s new marketing manager? I’m playing with fire, and I know it. But I can’t seem to stop.

I step out of the shower, the memory of my fantasy clinging to me like steam. As I dress for the show, I repeat my new mantra: She's off-limits. Professional. Focused. But even as I say the words, I know they're going to be put to the test.

Hours later, our tour bus pulls up to the stadium. The parking lot is already filling up with fans, their excited chatter drifting through the tinted windows.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. Stay out of my head and focus.

Simple.

***

When we get through the stadium, Sweet Surrender is already there.

The backstage bustle igniting that pre-show adrenaline rush. But tonight, it's different. The usual excitement is replaced by a knot in my stomach, growing tighter with each passing minute.

Mallory is waving her arms animatedly in front of the guys. She looks so beautiful in her element that I can’t help but pause in my steps and watch her for a few moments.

There's a confidence in her stance that wasn't there before, a fire in her eyes as she gestures animatedly. This isn't the Mallory I remember from that night - all soft sighs and gentle touches. This Mallory is a force to be reckoned with, with all sharp edges and determination. It's like looking at a completely different person, and yet... I can still see traces of the girl I knew. The way she tucks a stray hair behind her ear, the slight furrow in her brow when she's concentrating. It's a jarring contrast, and I find myself both impressed and unnerved by this new version of her.

She has her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, with baby hairs expertly hidden, and earrings dangling down to her jawline that matches the bright pink of her shirt. It’s not a color I would’ve expected her to wear, but anything looks good on her.

Again, the skirt she’s wearing stops at the tip of her knees and hugs against her thighs like a second skin.

Before it can become too obvious that I’m checking her out, I clear my throat and follow behind Brent as he heads toward the hallway where our dressing rooms are located. Brent is struggling to hide his frustration when he sees Julia waiting for him outside his room.

Even though he’s trying to keep her safe, Julia can’t help but still come to the concerts, and even if Brent looks frustrated, I also know he’s elated to see her. I’ve watched a lot of people fall in love, and each one seems to be better than the last — if only that could happen to me.

Brent pauses outside his room and places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me from moving forward to my room. “Hey, everything okay?”

I frown. “Uh, yeah, why?”

He shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m just so used to you having some kind of comment to make toward Mallory. Thought you would’ve said something to her just now.”

“Just want to focus on the show, that’s all.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. As long as there’s nothing wrong between the two of you, I know how annoying you can be at times.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, rolling my eyes before pushing away from him and heading toward my room.

Right before I step through the door, a flash of pink catches my eye, and when I turn to steal a glance, Mallory is already looking at me with a frown on her face. I want to step away from my room and walk over to her, but the sight of Trevor sauntering up to her with a smile on his face forces my attention away.

Maybe it would be best if someone else stole her attention. it would help me get my head on right before I blow things up.

As I watch Trevor lean in close to Mallory, laughing at something she's said, I feel a surge of irritation. It's not just about Mallory - Trevor's been pushing boundaries lately, trying to take center stage and angling for more spotlight. If he's making a play for Mallory, too...

Carmen rushes up to me, her face pinched with worry. "Jace, we've got an issue. The sound system's acting up again. If we can't fix it in the next hour, the opening could be jeopardized."

I suppress a groan. This is the last thing we need on opening night. "Didn't we just do a sound check?"

"We did," Carmen nods, flipping through her clipboard. "But something's off again. We need to run through it one more time."

Great. I glance at Mallory one last time before following Carmen. It's time to be a professional and tackle this head-on.

As we walk, Carmen's brow furrows. "Wait, when did we do the last sound check? I've got it scheduled for right now."

I smile at her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We did one yesterday during rehearsal and another early today. Remember?"

"Oh," she blinks, clearly flustered. "Right. Sorry, it's been a crazy day."

"No worries," I say gently. "Let's go see what's wrong with the system this time."

As we head back and stop at my dressing room, I can't help but think that this night is already off to a rocky start. But with Mallory on my mind and the band counting on me, I'm determined to make it work.

“Hey, make sure you leave early tonight. We’ve got Mia here, plus Sweet Surrender’s staff that I’m sure they won’t mind if we use them for the night.”

Carmen puckers her lips, then shakes her head. “No, I can’t possibly do that. There’s too many details to manage.” As if remembering something, she gasps and walks over to the clothing rack where my concert outfits are hanging up. “In honor of the first night, the guys thought you could coordinate outfits.”

She pulls out one of the outfits and drapes it over the chair sitting in front of the vanity, then runs her hands along the fabric to make sure there’s no wrinkle on it. Once Carmen is sure that it’s perfect for me, she turns around and flashes me a bright smile before hurrying out of the room to let me get ready.

It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, and then I run my hands through my hair to make sure it doesn’t look like I just crawled out of bed — which is almost impossible with the tousled style. When I’m confident with the style, even though it’s not going to last by the end of our show, I take long strides toward the door and pull it open.

I blink a few times at the sight of Mallory standing outside my door, and although it’s the wrong thing to do, I trail my gaze down the length of her body. Although she isn’t showing as much skin as she probably could, her legs still look magnificent, and the bright pink strappy heels she’s got on has my dick standing at attention.

As I look at Mallory, I can see the conflict in her eyes. She’s biting her lower lip, a habit I remember from that night months ago. It’s clear she’s battling with herself, probably weighing her professional ambitions against whatever it is that keeps drawing her to me.

“Mallory,” I say, trying to adjust myself as she looks at me nervously. “What are you doing here?”

She sighs heavily and shakes her head. “I don’t even know.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” I lean closer, my mouth close to her ear, and ask, “Thinkin’ of christening the dressing room?”

That gets her attention, and she stumbles away from me, eyes wide, then she hurriedly makes her way back down the hall and almost runs into Brent in the process. He frowns at her back, then darts his attention to me and immediately makes his way over.

As I watch Mallory hurry away, I’m hit with a confusing mix of guilt and desire. I shouldn’t be teasing her like this, shouldn’t be pushing these boundaries.

“What the hell did you do this time?”

I smirk at him and shrug my shoulders. “Just told her how good she looks in pink. No big deal.”

He shakes his head and lets out a heavy sigh. “Maybe you should calm down with the comments. I don’t think she likes them so much anymore.”

I’d listen to him if it wasn’t for the fact that right after I made the suggestion, her eyes flashed with a small flicker of heat before going back to that blank stare she loves giving me. But seeing her reaction... it’s addictive. And dangerous.

It seems as though I may not be the only one who can’t stop thinking about our night together.