Hitting That Sweet Spot

Book 3: Rogue Series

by Lara Ward Cosio

Genres: Contemporary Romance; rock stars; rocker; rock star romance; rocker series; rogue; rogue series

Synopsis

Shay, the drummer of the world-renowned rock band Rogue, has a bad habit of taking care of everyone but himself - including the brother who is always looking for trouble. After way too many years of this, something's gotta give.

Jessica has prematurely given up her dance career. Ballet was the one place where, despite the odds stacked against her, she felt at ease. But now she's determined to find a new version of herself.

When Shay and Jessica meet in a chance encounter, he's smitten and she's dubious. They live in different worlds - he's a millionaire who has been around the world while she has three roommates and eats ramen noodles most nights.

Still, if they give it a chance, could their unlikely pairing hit that sweet spot?

Release date: March 6, 2017

Publisher: Rogue Publications

Print pages: 382

Sample

Her name was Amanda and she knew exactly how to flirt. Much better than he did. Luckily, she was happy to take the lead. An hour of bar banter and drinks evolved first into heated kissing in the hallway on the way to her room and then into the kind of uninhibited sex generated between two people who knew they would never see each other again. 

Amanda was a warm comfort for the night, and never once gave any indication she knew who he was. That lack of recognition made their time together all that much sweeter.

Being the introverted drummer for a hugely famous band meant he was all too often accosted by people who presumed to think they knew him. Men tended to clap him on the back familiarly, mention some random bit of trivia they knew about him as a musician, and act as if they were lifelong pals. Women usually approached him with an odd mixture of motherly caretaking and seduction. But the women he was attracted to were not the ones who wanted to mind him like a child. 

Jessica had understood that. Though she was six years younger than him and just sorting out her life’s path when they met, they’d formed a quick connection. She’d been charmed by his fumbling attempts at flirting, his lack of rock star pretense, and his concern for a friend who had been in need. He’d been drawn to the way she made him feel seen, her ability to bring him out of himself, and the passion—and heartbreak—she had for dancing. 

They’d been together for almost two years before she abruptly quit her job with the band’s organization, moved out of their house, and left him after one too many ugly incidents with his drug-addict brother, Danny Boy. The band went on tour soon after and Shay tried to use the distraction of all that went with it to ignore his fractured heart.

But it wasn’t long before he was consumed with thoughts of her. Memories of their courtship and the ensuing relationship came to him at the oddest times. He’d wake in the night thinking of her. He’d see her silhouette in the crowd at their concerts. He’d ache to get lost in the intoxicating contrast created by the deep pools of her almost black eyes and the sweet dimples that appeared when she smiled. Rather than question why he was so forcefully retracing their relationship in his mind, he welcomed and dwelled in it. It was an escape, but one he knew was harmless. Well, as harmless as torturing your own heart with thoughts of having let your one true love walk away was. 

Now it had been months since he had seen or spoken with her. Instead, he was in this lovely stranger’s bed as dawn was breaking. Clearly, the fact that another woman was intruding upon his thoughts at this moment meant once more that his attempts to distract himself weren’t working.

Amanda was curled on her side, facing him but fast asleep. She was plump but wore it well and without insecurity. With other one-night stands, be it a groupie or not, he left as quietly and quickly as possible. In the plush bedding of this elegant suite, though, he lingered. Not because he thought Amanda was something more than a one-time thing, but because he needed to think about what had sent him driving off into the night.

The chirping of birds outside got louder as it got brighter. He bunched his pillow under his head and fixated on the tree branches stretching across the window as he thought of his brother Danny Boy.

Though he had been christened with the name Daniel, he’d been called Danny Boy since birth. His parents called him that. His friends called him that. Even his teachers called him that. He was born with uncommon charisma. Everyone was drawn to Danny Boy for his quick wit and likability. Shay had always revered him, for the obvious brotherly reasons and for the way he looked after him when they were young. Their parents had never latched onto the idea of being “present.” Kids were just other people in the house doing their own thing rather than ones that needed nurturing and attention. They used alcohol to further retreat from their parental responsibilities, which meant he and his brother were left to raise themselves. Danny Boy was older by five years and took it upon himself to care for his brother. It was only with Danny Boy that Shay felt safe. All that changed when Danny Boy fell in with a crowd that introduced him to heroin. Just thinking about that turn of events made Shay grimace.

Amanda stirred, throwing her arm sleepily over her head as she stretched onto her back. Shay gladly strayed from his thoughts as he looked at the way her exposed breasts rose and fell with her steady breaths. Her breasts were large and tipped with soft pink nipples. He leaned to her and took one nipple into his mouth, coaxing it rigid with his teeth and tongue. She woke with a gasp.

“Seamus, you are the best thing I’ve found in all of Ireland,” she said softly, a smile in her voice as she ran a lazy hand through his short hair. 

He had introduced himself as Seamus, the full name his parents hadn’t bothered to put on his birth certificate. Instead, they had registered the nickname of Shay. The only person in his life to call him Seamus was Gavin, the friend and bandmate he had come to rely on and look up to in replacement of the brother who had eventually become only a sporadic presence in his life.

“High praise,” he murmured, “since you only just got here yesterday.”

Her giggle trailed off as he moved in between her legs. She met his eyes and touched his face. “Who are you, anyway? You’re familiar somehow.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, feigning an incredulous expression. He emphasized his words, aware of how an Irish brogue could charm Americans. “Do you not remember meeting me last night there in the wee pub?” 

She smiled. “I didn’t remember you being funny.”

He kissed her slowly and hoped he was right in thinking they had one more condom left. After things had progressed the night before, she’d made a hasty call to Jason, the cousin who had escorted her to the bar. He’d been a lifesaver, dropping by the room with a handful of what they needed. 

“Will your wife and kids be missing you about now?” she asked as he kissed her neck.

“No, love. I’m after an escape, same as you, but not from that.”

She had confessed the night before to being reluctantly in the country for a cousin’s wedding. The cousin was of Irish descent, two generations removed, and Amanda described her as being a Hibernophile. It wasn’t a word he had ever heard, but he was soon educated to the fact that it meant “a person who is fond of Irish culture, Irish language, and Ireland in general.” She didn’t care much for her cousin—not because of her obsession with all things Irish, but because she’d been mercilessly bullied by her when they were kids. Amanda had only come to the wedding out of familial obligation. Once the ceremony gave way to the reception, she’d slipped away to the bar.  

“Good. I don’t want to regret this,” she said.

“Why would you?” he asked. “It hits that sweet spot, doesn’t it?” 

She laughed and pulled him to her. 

* * *

Though Amanda invited him to stay for breakfast with the wedding party, Shay declined and left her comfortably in the bed they had shared. She had made a game at trying to guess what he did for a living after examining the calluses on his hands and the strength in his forearms and biceps.

Construction worker? Mechanic? Truck driver?

He had demurred while she kept the questions coming even as he’d dressed. Finally, he leaned over her as she lay against the pillows and kissed her sweetly. 

“Your cousin probably knows me,” he told her as he pulled away.

Her eyebrows came together in confusion. 

“I’m the drummer for a band called Rogue, love.”

Recognition flooded her eyes in an instant, and she admitted she was more embarrassed for not having figured it out sooner than star struck. He watched as she fell into laughter over the revelation.  

It was still early when he pushed the start button on the Porsche. Moving slowly down the lane in electric mode, he saw the hotel with its lovely gardens in his rearview mirror and smiled. He pressed the accelerator down, clicking into gas-fired operation and the sports car jumped to life with a robust rumble. 

He chose the slightly longer route home toward Dublin so he could enjoy the view of the glacier-carved limestone hills of the Burren and the dramatic Cliffs of Moher this time. And to delay the inevitable of dealing with Danny Boy whom he had left at his house the night before after their row.