Needing Forever VOL 2: Part of The Rocker... Series Universe

  Copyright © Terri Anne Browning/Anna Henson 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Terri Anne Browning, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

  Needing Forever VOL 2

  Written by Terri Anne Browning

  All Rights Reserved ©Terri Anne Browning 2019

  Cover Design by M. L. Pahl of IndieVention Design

  Edited by Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  Formatting by M.L. Pahl of IndieVention Designs

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  Needing Forever Volume 2 is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including storage or retrieval systems, without the express permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Tables of Content

  Riley

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  Jenna

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  Carolina

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  London

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Riley

  Prologue

  Nate

  With a wink, the basketball player’s wife dropped a tip on the bar top—along with a slip of paper with her number on it. Giving her a grin, I took both and placed them in the tip jar behind me. There were already half a dozen numbers in there, along with enough money to cover half my rent for next month.

  Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays alone always got me enough tips to cover my living expenses, and that was without the sizable salary Harris paid me for what little I did as an assistant manager when I needed to step in and cover for him and Barb.

  The numbers would go into the trash at the end of the night, though. Like they always did. The majority of the women who slipped me their numbers were married, all of them famous in some shape or form. I didn’t mess with married women. And even if I’d wanted to, I sure as hell wouldn’t do it at work where it could jeopardize my job, my life, or risk Harris losing everything if some rich prick tried to sue him for whatever the fuck their lawyers could come up with over their marriage going down the crapper.

  Walking back down to the other end of the bar, I spotted a somewhat familiar face. Amara, the girl Cash had introduced as his girlfriend the last time he’d been in, smiled and waved as I neared her.

  As she shifted, I caught sight of dark hair as someone stepped up beside her. Turning her head, the brunette spoke to Amara, giving me my first look at such complete and utter perfection, it had me stopping in my tracks.

  Holy fuck.

  I’d seen many, many beautiful women in this line of work. Freaking supermodels were in here every other night, women the world thought were the definition of female beauty with their size-zero waists and mile-long legs.

  The beauty before me was none of those things. With her short dark hair and incredible blue eyes a person could find themselves drowning in, the woman before me was a pixie with an hourglass figure.

  Then she smiled, and I knew—fuck, but I knew—this woman was my future.

  Chapter 1

  Riley

  First Bass seemed more crowded than ever as Amara and I made our way through the masses of VIPs on the second floor. I’d been coming regularly with my best friend and roommate for a few weeks now, and I still had a hard time not stopping to gawk at some of the big-name celebs who frequented the hottest club in the SoCal region.

  I blinked as a larger-than-life NFL player winked at me as he followed a group of his teammates to the balcony that overlooked the first floor. I waited until he was out of sight before continuing on to the bar with Amara for a round of drinks.

  “That guy would have crushed you,” she said with a laugh as she found an empty spot at the bar and pulled me in beside her.

  “That’s what I like, and you know it,” I returned with a wicked grin. “It’s part of the thrill for me.”

  “You’re kind of a freak, Riles.”

  Snickering, I leaned forward on the bar top. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

  “Figuring what out?” A deep voice commanded attention from my left—well, my attention. Seconds later, Nate the delicious bartender stood directly in front of me, and all thoughts of being crushed beneath one of the biggest names in professional football evaporated [LH1]into a cloud of nothingness.

  My mouth went instantly dry, making my tongue feel like it was glued to the roof of my mouth. Meanwhile, my panties were suddenly soaked, and it was all this dickhead’s fault.

  Without even realizing I was doing it, I scanned him from head to waist with my eyes since that was all I could see of him from this side of the bar. The First Bass logo on his black polo was over his left pec, the material of the shirt pulled tight over his leanly muscled chest. The guy had the kind of face anyone would take notice of and want to spend a lifetime committing to memory. Short, dark hair, slightly sun-kissed complexion, and the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen.

  I didn’t normally refer to anything about a man as beautiful, but there just wasn’t any other way to describe them. They were a unique combination of blue and green, reminding me of a peacock feather. And they had nothing to do with me adding that particular combination to the new sketches for my clothing line I’d been working on for years. Peacock was in this season, that was all.

  But those damn eyes still drew me in like a moth to a flame every freaking time I was anywhere in the same vicinity as this sexy as fuck bartender.

  “Riley is a freak in the bedroom,” Amara told him, earning her a glare from me, but she continued as if I weren’t threatening a painful death with the look I was giving her. “She likes to feel fragile while in bed with a guy.”

  “And what brought up this particular topic for discussion?” he gritted out, pulling my eyes back to him.

  His jaw was clenched, his hands balled into fists on top of the bar, but his pupils were dilated, telling me just how turned on he really was. Pissed but hungry, I turned my head, fighting and winning against the grin that wanted to break free.

  “Some jock type just gave Riley bedroom eyes, but she didn’t even follow after him like the horny little slut she is,” Amara teased, and I seriously wanted to strangle her. Horny, I might have been, but there was only one guy who would ease the ache making my clit throb. Nate was the only one who could get me off since not even my vibrator
could put a dent in that ache at this point.

  “But she’s been doing that a lot lately. Turning down one guy after another when she usually jumps all over—” This time, my glare shut her up. Her teasing was going a little too far, and she knew it. I wasn’t exactly Miss Celibate, but I wasn’t easy. “Anyway, she’s been hookup-free for weeks and weeks now.”

  “Don’t you have a boyfriend to go suck face with?” I gritted out from between clenched teeth.

  “He’s currently on the phone with his grandmother,” she said with a shrug. “We said we would get the next round. Remember?”

  “Right,” I muttered then forced myself to look at Nate. There was a smirk on his all-too-appealing face. “I need enough beer to satisfy the rockers in the back corner over there.” I pointed to what was the Blondes’ and Tainted Knights’ designated corner. “And I will take two bottles of water and the biggest margarita you can produce.”

  “You can’t carry all those beers by yourself,” Nate said with a grunt as he started putting beers on the bar top. “Go sit your beautiful ass down, and I’ll have someone bring over an ice chest.”

  “But I want my margarita now,” I told him with a pout.

  I heard him groan like he was being tortured, and he leaned toward me. “Put that lip away, or I’m going to bite it,” he warned in a voice that was so deep and sexy, I was pretty sure my panties were dripping.

  I quickly sucked my lip between my teeth. “You say that to all the girls who pout at you?” I demanded after a moment, jealousy eating at me in a way I’d never experienced before.

  Fuck, who was I kidding? When it came to this guy, I felt a lot of things I never had before. I didn’t like it, yet at the same time, it was kind of exhilarating. But kind of annoying too. Yeah, definitely annoying and not hot in the least.

  “Only the sexy little brunettes with wild blue eyes.”

  “You got a type then, huh?” I tapped him on the tip of the nose with my index finger and hopped back. “Make sure whoever brings the beers doesn’t spill my margarita.”

  “Riley,” he snapped behind me, and I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Next time I see you wearing something that short, I’m going to spank that sexy ass of yours.”

  “I’ll wear whatever the fuck I want. I made this myself, so I’m self-advertising, dickhead.”

  “Self-advertise a dress a little longer next time, so your ass isn’t on display for the world to see.” I shot him the middle finger as I walked away, irritated but more than a little turned on by how commanding he was.

  Chapter 2

  Riley

  The music was good enough to have me throwing caution to the wind and letting loose with my friends. I didn’t care that sweat was running down my back and making my bra chafe on the underside of my boobs. Nothing could irritate me tonight.

  Amara was home, and I had a precious goddaughter on the way. Cash was getting his shit together, and my best friend was happy. To me, that was all that really mattered in the world. Mar deserved so much happiness after all the crap she’d been dealt in the past with her abusive stepfather and the recent death of her dad. I completely understood why she’d had a hard time getting over the whole Cash-not-really-being-Cash thing and needing time away to sort out her head and heart.

  But damn, I’d missed her.

  Sure, I’d had the Blondes to hang out with when I had the chance, but more often than not in the last two weeks, I’d been hanging out with Cash, getting the baby’s room in order for when Amara finally came home. I couldn’t call him a best friend, but we’d gotten pretty close while decorating my godchild’s room.

  “You keep bouncing around like that, and I’m going to have to kick all the guys’ asses in this place,” Aubree complained as she eyed the people surrounding us on the dance floor.

  I rolled my eyes, not even caring about the guys around us. It wasn’t First Bass, so there wasn’t a single guy in the club whose eyes I wanted on me. This was one of Nate’s nights to work—something I wasn’t sure I was happy to know or not. I’d committed his work schedule to memory.

  Along with about a hundred other things about the sexy bartender.

  I hadn’t been to First Bass in a few weeks, though, so that meant not getting so much as a glimpse of the man who seemed to be on my mind constantly these days. Ugh, it was driving me fucking crazy.

  What had been a little lust had turned into some stupid crush—and I feared it was morphing into something else. In the weeks that we’d been carrying on this weird flirtation, he’d never chased me. And maybe—just maybe—I wanted him to do a little chasing.

  Another first for me.

  I wasn’t the kind of woman who needed a guy’s constant attention to know he wanted me or to feel secure. Fuck, I wasn’t the type to need a guy past a few nights. But I wanted more than that with Nate.

  And that right there was why I hadn’t pursued anything more than our flirtation. More kind of scared the living hell out of me. But what if more led to something serious? Even scarier—what if it didn’t?

  What if I wanted just as much “more” as Amara had?

  The crowd around us was starting to get rowdy with too many drunk chicks on the dance floor at once. One of them bumped into Angie and Jenna, causing Angie to push Kin backward. Kin started to cry out, but she was caught before she could fall on her ass and get trampled by the others surrounding us.

  Then I saw who had saved her, and my heart jumped excitedly.

  Until I saw Kin hug him.

  Jealousy gnawed at me, making me want to rip out the gorgeous red hair from my newest roommate’s pretty head.

  She said something to him, and he smiled and hugged her back while replying, but I couldn’t hear. The music was too loud, but my inner bitch was yelling at me to take out the hot chick currently hugging the guy I knew was mine.

  But the hug was over quickly and then his eyes were seeking out mine, and I felt most of the jealousy burn out like a weak candle inside me. My inner bitch calmed down, and I wanted to melt then and there for him.

  Until he opened his mouth.

  “What did I say about leaving your apartment dressed like that?”

  The possessive note in his voice did little to appease the part of me that now wanted to knee him in the balls. Without fail, he always said shit like that whenever he saw how I was dressed. Couldn’t he, just once, say something nice about my outfit? Everything I wore was something I designed and created myself, but instead of telling me if the clothes were sexy or even pretty, he was too worried about some other guy looking at me.

  “You don’t own me, asshole,” I snarled at him. Turning my back on him, I stormed toward the bar, throwing him the middle finger as I walked away.

  How the actual fuck did I think I would ever want more with that guy? He was nothing more than an asshole. A sexy asshole, but still an asshole. Guys could be possessive and alpha without being a total douche, damn it. I’d be damned if I would let one like Nate the fucking bartender tell me how I could dress. Next thing he’d want to do was tell me what I could or couldn’t eat, or who I could be friends with.

  How many times had I seen one of my mom’s new boyfriends try to do just that to her? She had this thing for the bad-boy types—and by boy, I meant just that. She was in her early fifties, but we had some pretty damn good genes in our family, and she looked twenty years younger than she actually was. And she had a taste for guys younger than me.

  But more often than not, she was drawn to the guys who wanted to control every aspect of her life. Unfortunately for them, Mom wasn’t the kind of woman to be told what she could and couldn’t do by anyone. Walking away—or in most cases, packing her newest boy toy’s things and throwing them out on her front lawn—was nothing to her. She knew she would have a replacement for him by the end of the day if she wanted one.

  And that was exactly what I would do now. Find a replacement to take my mind off Nate. Someone who would look at what I was wearing and tell me how
good I looked. That I had talent when it came to creating a sexy outfit others would want to wear too. That he couldn’t take his eyes off me, I was so hot.

  Not take one look at me and get all growly and tell me I needed to put on more clothes.

  Pushing between two people at the bar, I ordered a shot and started to pull my cash out of my pocket when I felt someone at my side. A twenty landed in front of the bartender, and he snatched it up before I could even figure out what was going on. Looking up, I found Nate standing there, glaring down at me like I’d done something wrong.

  “Listen here, asshole. I don’t need you to pay for my drinks.” I poked him in the chest as I yelled at him, but he just stood there, statue-still. “You’re not my boyfriend. You’re not even my fuck buddy. So just leave me the hell” —large hands grasped me by the waist and lifted me until we were at eye level— “alone.” The last word came out on a squeak, and I hated myself for that small weakness. My damn traitorous body was already melting, wanting to be closer.

  Drawing back one leg, I was ready to kick him where it hurt and bring him to his knees. He seemed to read my intention, but instead of releasing me, he smirked. And who was I kidding? There was no room at the crowded bar for me to cause him even an ounce of discomfort.

  And that smirk was so annoyingly sexy, I wanted to weep.

  Aggravated with myself because I wanted this man more than ever, I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

  One night. Just one, and then I was going to walk away. I’d get him out of my system and move on. Find some other guy to get my “more” from, and forget all about Nate.

  He tasted like mint and something sweet I couldn’t name when I thrust my tongue into his mouth to play with his. I felt him groan, his hands moving to my ass as he kissed me back just as hungrily as I was kissing him.

  Someone bumped against my back, jostling me enough that I broke the kiss to shoot them a hard look over my shoulder, but the guy only grabbed his beer off the bar and walked away.