The Rocker Who Loves Me (The Rocker 4)

A big, slightly beefy hand reached over and rubbed over my knee before I could move. “Don’t play hard to get, pretty girl. You know I’m a sure thing.”

I felt bile rise in the back of my throat as his hand touched my skin. Without thinking about it, I picked my keys and lifted the little can of Mace. One, two, three…

Trey, the Drunken Monkey screamed as the Mace entered his eyes. Jumping up, rubbing at his face, he started calling me all kinds of vile names. I tried not to laugh at him, really, I did. He was used to getting any girl to fall into bed with him and it had gone to his head. My first rejection must have sounded like a hard to get line, but my second more forceful rejection was hard to take in.

“What the hell is going on here?” A deep voice that never failed to send shivers through me had me raising my head.

The can of Mace was still in my hand. When Shane saw it and put that together with the reaction of the hurting rocker, his entire expression changed to something I had never seen before. And I hoped I never saw it again. His face contorted with a spasm of rage, and the next thing I knew Trey was lying on the floor of a five star hotel. He was no longer screaming in pain because Shane had knocked his ass out.

“You fucking asshole!” Shane yelled in the unconscious man’s face. “Touch my girl again and I will break your fucking neck!”

He was shaking with rage, his face so red it was almost purple. I jumped up and grabbed his arm, afraid he would start kicking the other man.

“Hey, hey.” I forced him to turn and face me. When my arms went around him, I could actually feel the rage fading a little. “It’s okay. Nothing happened.”

“Something obviously happened or you wouldn’t have had to protect yourself!” Shane growled. “Fuck this, you are not going to any more interviews unless I’m with you.”

I wanted to argue, but knew now—while he was still vibrating with anger—was not the right time. So I let it go for the moment.

On the floor, Trey groaned as he slowly came around. I turned so I was standing between him and Shane.

“What happened?” he mumbled as he glanced around. When his gaze focused on Shane, he blinked, his eyes obviously still stinging from the Mace. “Stevenson?”

“Yup.” Shane’s arms wrapped around my waist, staking his claim. “Stay the fuck away from my girl.”

Trey muttered a curse. “I didn’t know she was your girl, fucker. And really? You have a steady girl?” His gaze traveled to me and over my body almost leeringly. “Not that I can question your taste.” But then he wiped his hands over his eyes. They were watering from the reaction to the chemical. “Fuck, this hurts!”

Because the lobby was off to the side of the hotel entrance, no one had noticed our confrontation. But with Trey continuing to curse it drew the attention of the manager and a few others. The manager, an older man with almost completely gray hair, stepped forward. “Is there a problem here?”

Shane turned to face the man. “The guy has something in his eyes,” he informed the manager with a face that was like stone it was so hard. “He may need medical attention.”

I glanced down at the other rocker. His face was red, the burn from the Mace affecting the skin around his eyes as well. I bit my lip, feeling sorry for the guy now.

“This doesn’t look good at all,” the manager commented when he crouched down to take a better look at the guy’s eyes. “What happened, sir?”

I waited for the Drunken Monkey to tell the older man that I had assaulted him. I had a sudden fear that the cops were going to be called and I’d be arrested for spraying Trey with my Mace. Instead, he grumbled something about being stupid and left it at that.

Shane tightened his hold on my waist and urged me to move away from the group that was now forming around us. When we where outside in front of the hotel, he pulled me against him and kissed me hard. “I don’t think I like your job anymore.”

I gave me a small smile. “It’s not so bad,” I assured him. “And I carry my Mace for things like this.”

“I’m buying you a Taser. You can fry the next guy’s ass. Not that I see this happening again. No one will touch you when I’m with you.”

I bit my tongue to keep from arguing with him but couldn’t help but smile at how protecting and possessive he was.

Shane

I was still shaking a little by the time the taxi pulled to a stop in front of Sensual House. I couldn’t get the thought of some guy trying to manhandle Harper out of my mind, and the more I thought about it, the more pissed I got. But my girl sure had shown some balls today.

I knew Trey from way back when Demon’s Wings had first gotten started. He and the other Drunken Monkeys were hard-core, worse than Demon’s Wings or even OtherWorld when it came to causing trouble and partying. There had even been a rumor a few years before that their drummer had raped an underage girl after one of their concerts. And I wasn’t all that sure it was just a rumor.

So it was little wonder why I was so torn up over Harper’s ordeal. But with her holding on to me the entire taxi ride, I was beginning to feel calmer. Simply having her hand on my arm was enough to ground me.

I paid the driver and then pulled her out with me. She frowned up at the huge brownstone building. It looked like any other place in the city and in beautiful condition on the outside with a nondescript look that was completely misleading to the business that was housed inside. Sensual House was one of several sex clubs that were located in New York. It catered to every possible sex fetish known to man, and some that weren’t even invented yet.

I hadn’t ever been to Sensual House before and knew that it was a more couple oriented place than what I usually went for. While most clubs catered to casual sex, Sensual House was exclusively for couples, couples that were experimenting or just needed to spice up their sex life. A place where both partners could feel safe and secure with the added anonymity.

When Harper had asked for toys to experiment with, I had known this was the place for us.

“Where are we?” she asked as she continued to stare up at the brownstone.

I didn’t answer but pulled her up the steps and rang the doorbell. A woman answered the door with an air of professionalism to her. “Yes?”

“Shane Stevenson.” I had called ahead to make arrangements for everything I wanted and needed for Harper’s first time. My name and the password that each client was given was my key inside. “Red room.”