Built to Fall: A Rock Star Romance

CLAIRE’S LAUGHTER HAD BROUGHT ME TO THE ROOF. I’d never heard her laugh so hard and for so long. My gut told me I needed to see her that way for myself.

And what a fucking sight. Her throaty laugh sounded like the devil’s church bells calling all the sinners to service. The firelight danced over her cheeks, and when she opened her eyes, they caught the flames like stained glass in the sun.

There was no doubt she was as high as a kite, but I liked seeing her this way. I didn’t remember a time I’d ever reached that level of happiness or ease, chemically enhanced or not. It soothed me to know it was possible.

Marta held out her hands. “Get over here, Dom. I have to ask you a question.”

I took a seat opposite Claire with the fire at my back. “Ask away.”

Marta poked a finger at me. “Did you know Claire was married?”

“Uh…” I scrubbed my chin. “Yes…”

Claire giggled again. “Stop it. It wasn’t a secret, I just don’t want to think about it.”

Rodrigo crossed his arms. “I’m betrayed.”

Yeah, the whole group was fucking flying. I should’ve popped an edible before coming up, but there was something to be said for being the only sober one in a group of stoners. That hadn’t always been the case, but I wasn’t twenty anymore either.

“Oh my god, it just came out when I was talking to Dominic the same way it came out tonight. There’s no big conspiracy.” Claire ruffled Rodrigo’s hair, and he leaned into her hand like a kitten.

“Okay, I forgive you.”

“How long?” Iris asked.

“How long was I married?”

Iris nodded.

Claire held up four fingers. Four years.

“What? You were a baby!” Iris’s mouth hung open for a beat. “Wow. So, how long have you been separated? And is it definitely going to be divorceville?”

“Oh yeah. There’s no going back for me.” Claire leaned her head on her hand. “It’s been three and a half months since I left.”

“This is really new,” Adam said.

“It is,” she confirmed. “But the person I was when I was married feels a thousand miles away. That’s old Claire, and she was a submissive bore.”

Iris snapped. “I hope you lit all his shit on fire.”

I didn’t know Claire’s ex. I had no idea why they broke up. But I strongly agreed with Iris. I would have been cool with it if she’d lit the whole man on fire.

“I didn’t. That’s not my style. All I want is to be free, and I am.” She wiggled her fingers in the air. “Look at me now, baby.”

Rodrigo rubbed his hands together. “Now, let’s plan your emancipation celebration. What kind of naughty things can we make Claire do?”

“We’re making Claire do things?” Adam waggled his eyebrows at her. I had to stop my hands from balling. This kid was the human equivalent of toothpicks under fingernails. He made me fucking cringe with how obvious and cheesy he was.

“No one makes Claire do anything,” Marta declared. “But hypothetically, if we made you do something you’ve never done before but always sort of wanted to, what would it be?”

Claire bit her lip and hummed to the sky. “Strip club. I’ve never been, and I’ve always wanted to go. My ex used to take bro golf trips and they’d always hit up the strip club, but he never wanted me to go with him.”

Rodrigo cupped his mouth. “Whaaat? We’re getting Claire some booty in the champagne room? Hell yes!”

Iris bobbed her head a few too many times. “I’m in, I’m in. We should go in Vegas. Those girls are stunnas.”

Adam slammed his hand down. “It’s settled. My girl’s getting a lap dance.”

My girl? Who the hell did the guy think he was? I highly fucking doubted Claire was timing her orgasms for him. Highly. Fucking. Doubted.

Claire opened her arms. “I’ll take one right now if you’re offering.”

He started to rise, but my arm shot out, blocking him. “Don’t. She’s high, and if you take advantage of that, you’re even more of a twat than I thought.”

He sat back in his chair, shooting me a withering look, but I ignored the little shit. I knew I was something of a hypocrite, but that didn’t mean I’d let anyone else slide—not with her.

Undeterred, Claire curled her finger at me. “I wouldn’t mind a little silver fox in my lap.”

“There’s nothing little about me,” I deadpanned.

She snickered, mouthing, “I know.”

The others kept on talking about the strip clubs they’d been to and trading horror stories of some of the worst, most seedy ones. I could’ve told a hundred stories of my own, but I wasn’t much on sharing. Especially not now, when I was caught up in looking at Claire, and she was looking right back.

She gave me a slow, lazy smile, and my lips twitched at how outrageously adorable she was, all mellow, snuggled in her chair in a big hoodie. She made me want to take her in my lap and touch each of her soft places, then bend her over and slap her ass for taking up so much space in my head.

Claire uncurled from her chair and approached the fire. As she passed me, she brushed her hand over my shoulder. “What is going on in your brain?”

I stood too, watching her push a marshmallow onto a metal spear. “A lot of things.”

She lowered the metal into the fire. “Are they text-worthy thoughts?”

“Some.”

She tipped her face up to me and arched a brow. “Intriguing. You should tell me more.”

“I don’t think I should. Not with your boy hanging around.”

Claire glanced over her shoulder at Adam, then back to me. “I think you know I’m not interested in boys.”

Her marshmallow caught fire, so I took her hand, lifting it from the flames, and blew it out. She smiled and put it right back in.

“I like them charred black. You didn’t need to rescue my poor little marshmallow.” Her elbow nudged my ribs. “Make one for yourself. When was the last time you ate a s’more?”

I allowed a small chuckle to release. “Longer than you’ve been alive.”

“Eat one, Dominic. Get sticky with me.” She slid her black marshmallow between two graham crackers and took a bite. White spilled over her lips, and her tongue poked out to catch it. “Yum.”

This girl knew exactly what she was doing, and it was working. If we were alone…

“Is it s’mores time now?” Rodrigo bounced between us, pushing Claire and me apart.

“Yes, it is. I was just convincing Dominic to make one.”

Rodrigo whirled around on me, his eyes manic. Hell, maybe they were always manic. “You’re not making a s’more, dude? What, are you on some dietician-approved, no carb, plant-based, zero fun diet to maintain that smokin’ bod?”

“You caught me.” Who the hell was this kid? Had he been beamed here from another planet? The weird thing was, I kind of dug him, and I didn’t dig many people. No doubt I’d get over it the more I knew him, but for now, I didn’t mind his presence.

Rodrigo rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “I won’t tell if you want a cheat day. Claire won’t tell either.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Will you, boo?”

She shook her head with a solemn expression. “No, sir. I won’t tell anyone, even if they torture me.”

I pointedly grabbed a marshmallow from the pyramid the kitchen staff had stacked on the tray and jabbed the metal spear through it.

“No one tortures you but me.”

“Oooh, yeah. I can see that about you. You like the whips-and-chains lifestyle. Spicy.” Rodrigo checked his marshmallow and declared it perfect. He doctored up his s’more, leaving Claire and me by the fire again.

“Having fun?” I reached out, swiped my thumb over her sticky bottom lip, and sucked it into my mouth. “Marshmallow.”

She groaned quietly and eased closer to my side. “More fun than I should have while I’m working, I think. I doubt my next job will live up to this one.”

“Don’t think you’ll keep working for Isabela?”

Claire cringed, but not from my question. “Your marshmallow is gone.”

I checked my stick, and sure enough, it was empty. “Fuck. I actually wanted that.”

She ran her hand up my chest, patting twice. “I’ll make you one, and it’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

When her hand lingered on me, I glanced down at it, then up to her eyes. “Are you still scared of me, Claire?”

“Do you still want me to be?” She dropped her hand and went to work on my replacement marshmallow.

I blew out a breath, deciding on full honesty. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either.” Her eyes slid to mine. “Do you like the whips-and-chains lifestyle?”

That made me laugh. I turned away, letting it out, then angled back to face her again. Her brows were drawn together, pretty lips curving down.

“Why do you always hide your laughs?” she asked.

“Do I?”

“You know you do.”

“It’s not conscious.” I took my s’more from her, backing away. “Don’t try to dig into my faults. I’m not looking to be fixed or saved.”

Her eyes rolled as she followed me back to the chairs. The one beside her was vacant, so I snagged it and enjoyed the hell out of my s’more. Claire watched with her chin on her hand, seeming to find me amusing.

Need surged in my belly. I wanted a taste of Claire, of what she had—her easy way, how people gravitated to her and the way she let them even through all the hurt she had to be experiencing. If I could have her, her flavor on my tongue, her scent in my nose, the feel of her on my skin, maybe I’d soak up some of it.

She made me want to feel.

She made me want.

“I want you in my bed tonight,” I murmured.

She chewed on her bottom lip before answering. “Even though I’ve had a few edibles?”

“In my bed, Claire.”

It wasn’t right. She should turn me down and tell me to go to hell. I shouldn’t want her, and I sure as hell should be able to resist her.

None of that mattered. Thoughts of her mouth, her scent, her creamy, freckled skin, took up every corner of my thoughts. I needed her out. Out of my system, out of my head. And I thought she really needed it too.

“Okay,” she whispered.

My fingers dug into the wooden arms of my chair. “You won’t let me kick everyone out, will you?”

The smile she gave me shined brilliant. “No, I very much won’t.”

By the time everyone cleared out, it was past midnight, and Claire had started drooping in her chair. Marta tried to wait for her, but she was toasted enough to accept that I’d get Claire back to her room myself.

I tugged Claire up, and she stumbled into me, her fire-warmed face nestling in my beard. She stayed there for a long moment, then tipped her head back. Her fingers slid into my hair, nails scratching a shallow path. Her lids were heavy, but it killed me to admit not solely from desire.

I grazed her bottom lip with my teeth. “Come to bed.”

We went downstairs together, and I guided her into my bathroom. Claire faced me, waiting for me to make the first move, her eyes shining in the bright lights. I gripped the hem of her hoodie, slowly lifting it over her head. Beneath, she wore a nearly sheer white camisole and black bra. I slid my hand into the cup of her bra, brushing my thumb back and forth over her beaded nipple. Her skin felt as creamy as it looked, like I could sink right into it and disappear.

I fisted her hair at the nape of her neck, and her lips parted, breath stuttering.

“What is it about you?” I gritted out, almost angry with the desire I couldn’t seem to keep in check. My cock throbbed from wanting her. There was an ache in me I’d had for weeks.

She slipped her hands under my shirt, tracing the ridges of my abs with her fingertips. “What is it about you?” She sounded breathless, but also like she really didn’t know the answer.

I didn’t come across that often. Women wanted me because they knew who I was—the rocker, the star, the guy on the screen. They didn’t question it or wonder. That they would want me was a given.

Maybe I was getting older and losing my touch, or maybe Claire was just…Claire.

“I don’t think I know.” My fist tightened in her hair, tilting her head to the side, and I dipped down to taste her like I’d been thinking of doing all night. She moaned when my teeth met her flesh, arching into the bites of pain.

My breaking point was a near-palpable place, and I was fast approaching it. Her breast in my palm and throat in my mouth pushed me to the outer depths of my control.

Violence ran through my blood. Not that I would ever hurt Claire, at least not in a way she wouldn’t want. But I had a deep-seated need to unleash with her. To push her, to be real and raw with her. Maybe because I didn’t think she’d ever had that.

With the way I felt tonight, the edginess in my veins, holding back would be impossible, and she wasn’t there. She had to be fully awake and prepared for what I’d bring.

“Get ready for bed.” I yanked my hand out of her bra and reached around her, unclasping it easily. The straps slipped down her arms, then I pulled the whole thing from under her camisole and tossed it on the bathroom floor.

Her hands flew up to her nearly-bare tits, cupping them. I knocked them away with a feral growl. “Don’t hide yourself from me, Claire.”

“Yes, sir.” She swiveled toward the door, but I caught her shoulder, spinning her back around to the sink. “Wha—?”

I unwrapped a new toothbrush, provided by the hotel, drew a line of toothpaste on the bristles, and handed it to her. “Brush.”

I did the same with my toothbrush, scrubbing my teeth beside her. When she spit into the sink, I filled a glass with water and handed it to her. “Drink.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not thirsty.”

“Fine.” I swallowed her water down, placing the glass on the marble countertop. “Come to bed.”

I walked behind her, my eyes glued to the sway of her hips and the bounce of her full, round ass. She stopped beside my bed and turned, pressing her chest against mine.

“Now what?” She was a little pissy, just the way I liked her.

My index finger hooked on the waistband of her leggings. “Now, I take these off you.”

Her fingers tucked in the waistband of my jeans. “And I take these off you?”

It had been my intention to help her undress, then tuck her into bed. My intentions were shit when Claire was involved, though. Her fingertips grazed the head of my cock as she unzipped my jeans, making me jerk away.

I shoved her onto the bed and swept her pants off, then I kicked mine off and tossed my T-shirt aside. Claire’s tired eyes were hungry, even as she wrapped her arms around her middle, again trying to hide from me.

“Lie down for me, beautiful girl. Under the covers.”

She did as I asked with a snarl as menacing as a kitten. I climbed into bed beside her, both of us on our sides, facing each other. Her mouth was on mine before I saw her coming, and that hunger was there too.

I slipped my palm into her panties. She opened her legs to let me between them, to feel her slick, wet heat. I only meant to touch her once, to find out if she ached for me the way I ached for her, but once I rolled her swollen clit under the pad of my finger, I couldn’t stop. Not until she fell apart for me.

Her mouth stopped moving against mine as little pants escaped her lips. Eyes wide and almost startled, she watched me as I touched her.

“How long is it going to take, Claire?”

Her breathing stuttered when I pushed one finger inside her. “Oh god, not long. I’m already close.”

She held my face in her hands, keeping my eyes on her. Like I’d ever look away from this. Her cheeks were bright pink, and her lips were kissed a ruddy red. Her eyes did me in, though. They flashed her emotions like a scrolling billboard. From one second to the next, she went from shy to disbelieving to frantic to overwhelmed.

Her pussy pulsed around my finger. I pressed hard on her clit until she whimpered and dug her nails into my jaw.

“Dominic,” she panted. “Oh, please.”

Legs scissored back and forth, squeezing my hand between them. Her body arched, shaking and shuddering, then curled in, riding my hand to find every last bit of pleasure she could.

When she stilled, I kept my hand there, the tip of my finger still inside her. Her eyes closed for half a minute, muscles slowly relaxing. They reopened when I brushed a sweaty piece of hair off her forehead.

She reached for me, gripping my length through the fabric of my underwear. “You’re so hard.” Her voice was so full of wonder, I nearly laughed. But fuck, it was difficult to laugh with a raging hard-on that wouldn’t be getting any relief tonight.

“Claire.” With reluctance, I removed my hand from her panties and gripped her wrist. “We’re going to sleep.”

“Oh.” Her eyes flicked to mine, then down to the sheet covering our bodies. “Okay.”

“Look at me.” I nudged her chin with my pussy-soaked knuckle, bringing her gaze back to mine. “I don’t have a lot of good in me, but I won’t fuck you when you’re even a little bit loaded. When you wake up tomorrow and your brain is fully yours, all you have to do is say the word, and I’ll fuck us both into oblivion. Right now, I want you here. I want to fall asleep with my dick nestled in your ass, and I sure as hell want to wake up that way too.”

Her eyes darted back and forth between mine. One inhale, and another, then she rolled over, pressing her butt into my groin. My arm draped over her waist, pulling her closer until we were flush with each other.

“You’re like a dream, Claire.” I cupped her breast beneath her shirt, rolling her nipple between two fingers. “Go to sleep.”

The moan she let out was soft, but it shot straight to my dick. “I can’t fall asleep when you’re touching me like that.”

I kissed her shoulder and ear. “I think you can. Set your mind to it.”

“You’re really mean,” she whispered.

“I know, baby. Never said I wasn’t.”

She fell asleep while I inhaled the smoke in her hair and honeysuckle on her neck, wondering how the hell I planned on getting her out of my system when she kept working her way deeper. I fell asleep soon after, draped around her, deciding not to give a shit. At least not tonight.