Free Hell Bent (Rock Bottom #1) by Katheryn Kiden Page B

experience with them that you know for a fact strippers fill their vaginas with glitter?”
    Without thinking about what I’m saying I open my mouth. “I came from a band called Moist Wood, what do you think?”
    Izzy shrugs, but I can tell my words change her attitude. “That it would be harder to get glitter off your moist wood than it will be to get it out of your hair.”
    I open my mouth to say something else, knowing full well that I shouldn’t, but Jameson cuts me off with a single look. It’s like he can read my mind and knows that at this very second—obscene drawings on my face and all—all I want to do is wrap her legs around me and fuck her until neither one of us can move anymore. Despite how hard I keep trying to force those thoughts out of my head, working shoulder to shoulder with her constantly isn’t helping me at all.
    Pushing off the couch, I shake some of the glitter off. The guys watch me carefully as I walk toward them and drop down into Jameson’s lap. I grab Jason’s arm, pulling him closer, and drop my head against AJ’s shoulder. “You forced me to do this,” I tell them. I hold my phone above us and I call the girls over, waiting until they’re crowded around us before snapping the shot.
    Izzy watches me carefully as I fiddle with my phone once we’re all back in our seats. “You better make damn sure you’re ready for this if you’re about to tweet that picture.”
    Up until now, we’ve managed to keep everything happening under wraps. I have no clue how, but the only news that has broken so far is the fact that I left Moist Wood. 
    “I’m ready,” I assure her. Uploading the photo, I caption it with hashtags about shenanigans with the Thirty Ought Six guys while working on new material.
    Climbing to her feet, Izzy stretches her arms above her head. The hem of her shirt rides up, exposing toned skin that I want to run my tongue over. When her phone rings, she quickly excuses herself and I have the first chance to look at the book in my pocket since Abby gave it to me.
    I flip through the pages of lyrics but keep ending up back on the same one. I grab my guitar and try to make what I hear in my head come out. I jump when Willow, who showed up a while ago to record with us, leans forward and keeps a beat going with me by banging her sticks against the floor.
    How could they keep this song hidden for so long? Izzy has to realize how good it is and how much it could do for someone if she let them record it.

    I slam my hand down on the table the second I walk back into the studio and growl, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
    Bennett’s head snaps up, meeting my eyes. “It’s a good song. It deserves to be heard.”
    “That isn’t for you to decide, and I don’t know who the hell gave that to you, but it’s personal property.”
    “Izzy.”
    “Leave,” I tell everyone else without taking my eyes off of Bennett until the door closes behind me. I drop my gaze to the table in front of me and try to breathe through my anger. “How. Fucking. Dare. You.”
    “Izzy,” he tries again.
    “Don’t interrupt me, Bennett. I dealt with the asshole I met the day I came to talk to you while you were on tour. I dealt with the fact that you said you wouldn’t work with anyone but me, so I moved shit around to accommodate you and I work my ass off. I have done everything I can to make this work and you repay me by doing this?”
    Why the hell is it that I leave for ten minutes to take a phone call regarding his career and come back to this? I haven’t looked inside that book in at least five years, but the second I heard the words when I opened the door, I knew what they were from. It doesn’t matter how good the song sounded—taking lyrics that my father wrote without my permission makes me furious. 
    “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 
    Stepping up beside me, Bennett grips my chin, forcing me to look at him when I don’t respond. Regret fills his eyes when he