Free Rock (Hard Rock Harlots #4) by Kendall Grey Page A

him talking down to me. He’s a master at pissing me off. In my opinion, the only thing he’s good for is playing guitar.
    And maybe the three-way we had with Shades behind the bus once wasn’t so bad.
    When I don’t answer, he says, “Eliza.”
    He sets the trap, and of course, I take the bait. Hook, line, sinker. I walk over to the couch and sit next to him. “I hate her. I fucking hate her.”
    Rax has the decency to tuck his thick, obviously exhausted, snake-tattooed cock under a towel. “Why? She seems cool to me.”
    “Because she’s …”
    Beautiful.
    When I don’t finish the sentence after a few seconds, Rax’s eyes widen. He leans closer and lowers his voice. “Because she’s Black?” he asks incredulously.
    Black? I screw up my face. “Because she’s …? What the fuck kind of racist bitch do you think I am? I don’t give a drunken Mother Superior’s butt fuck on the back of the Pope Mobile about what color she is.”
    “You puckered your lips so hard with the impending ‘B’ …” He swirls a finger in an awkward gesture above his mouth.
    I smack him upside his head with a huff-tinged scowl.
    “No, you dipshit. I hate her because she’s fucking beautiful . And she had a baby with my man. And unlike the other twats in her band who don’t care about The Rock, she’s actually a decent musician.”
    “So, you hate her because you’re jealous?”
    Yes.
    “No. I’m not fucking jealous.”
    His turn to smack me upside the head with a sarcastic snort. A few seconds breathe between us. My jets cool, bringing an unwanted but honest perspective into focus. “Okay, a little. I guess.”
    “Have you looked in a mirror lately? The competition goes both ways. And in case you haven’t figured it out, genius, you’re the Queen of Shades’s fucking universe. Pick those sad tits up off the floor, and every time she gets under your skin, remember how much shit he puts up with to stay with you.”
    Maybe Rax has a point. Shades has done nothing but try to make and keep me happy these last eleven months. Yeah, things have been harder recently, but every relationship has its peaks and valleys, right? Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me. Just means we gotta regroup and restrategize.
    Between Eliza’s reappearance and my run-in with Jillian’s would-be girlfriend, it’s a little too easy to play a wounded animal at the moment. It’s hard to find empathy amidst the drama when I’m a sad sac of cornered instinct and sweaty palms.
    I should try harder to understand where Shades is coming from and not let shit outside of my control bug me. Because, really, what will worry and stress get me? Maybe hemorrhoids, if I’m not careful. And God knows, I need my asshole happy and healthy for Eve’s birthday. I mean, in case its services are required.
    Rax stands, tugging the towel around his waist. He leans over me, almost close enough to kiss. “You’re Letty Fucking Dillinger. So, go be Letty Fucking Dillinger.”
    His scent makes me woozy, and his words stroke my ego in all the right places. I have to admit, Rax knows how to get a cooter juicy. I tilt my head up so I can look at him straight on. “I think I will.” The eye contact lasts two seconds too long. He breaks it off and heads toward Eve, sloshing water behind the glass.
    “And Rax?” I call after him.
    He faces me. Meandering over a long swath of skin from neck to cock, the scales of his snake tattoo glitter with sweat and unspoken promises.
    I hitch my hands to my hips. “I can’t wait to see what Eve has planned for her birthday.”
    “Me either.” Rax the viper tracks my movement as I back down the aisle to my bunk trundle to fish out tonight’s clothes. If he had a forked tongue, it surely would’ve flicked. He slips into the shower with Eve.
    The wicked spark of desire igniting his eyes right before the door closes sends a wild thrill down my spine and zaps the lightning rod between my legs with enough electricity to power a small