Beautiful Dangerous Read online

  Beautiful Dangerous

  By

  Penny Dee

  Copyright © 2015 Penny Dee

  All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands and events are either the work of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  **DISCLAIMER ** Beautiful Dangerous is a standalone novel—NOT a sequel to Crazy Beautiful. Yes, they both have Beautiful in the title and that is possibly due to an up-until-now unrealized obsession I have with the word. Either that or I’m lazy. Or low on vocabulary. Please, don’t buy this story if you are expecting Heath and Harlow to appear because I’d hate to think of you standing there waiting for them to appear and the heart crushing disappointment that follows when they never show up. I’d liken that to a prom date never turning up. Or worse, a bad cup of coffee.

  But please, please, please! buy this story if you want to be taken on tour with the biggest rock ‘n’ roll band in the world and ride their crazy train. I promise you, you’ll meet a few interesting characters along the way while you hopelessly fall in love with the smoldering hot guitarist who is tortured by his past but desperate to end the loneliness of life on the road.

  PS: I was kidding about Heath and Harlow never showing up … they may make a very brief cameo …

  PPS: Due to the nature of the content I must insist that you be over 18 to read this ….

  Acknowledgements

  As always, thank you to the readers who buy my books. I am so grateful and only hope you enjoy what I write, as much as I enjoy writing it. You guys are the bomb! Thank you xxx

  To my family and friends for putting up with my insanity and hermit-like behaviour. For letting me skip the occasional get together because I had to stay home and write, while you all had fun without me.

  To vodka. Gosh yes. Thank you.

  To Randy. Just because you existed and were so brilliantly the best. My favourite, always.

  To Eddie. You’re insanely talented and I am awestruck.

  To random, gorgeous model-guy on the massive Ella Bache signs at my local shopping center… yes, you… you inspired Jax in ways you will never know. My muse for this book. Thank you, mysterious model-guy. Yes. You are exactly what Jax Ozstryker looks like.

  To Chris Smith, who never gave up on my guitar questions—even though some of the answers he gave me started with “oh dear lord…”

  To Laurie Fisher … where do I start? You are a real beacon in the darkness for a noob like me. Your enthusiasm and advice is priceless, and your unwavering support is such a blessing. You are a treasure! I am so pleased to be able to call you my PA and my friend xx

  Of course, to my beautiful girl Amber and hubby Jason … you know why xx

  And to the Universe … you work in weird and wonderful ways that I think is awesome. Thank you for sending this one my way.

  DEDICATION

  For Amber

  Table Of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  The noise was like an icepick to my ear drum.

  When I looked to my right, the girl next to me was fangirling so hard I thought she might spontaneously combust. Tears sprung from her eyes. She jumped up and down like she was on an out-of-control pogo stick. She screamed again and I felt it all the way through to my bones like finger nails down a blackboard.

  When I turned to my left, I saw my crazy sister was doing the same thing. Screaming. Jumping up and down. Just like fangirl next to me. Just like the other 17,000 fans packed into the stadium to see Ozstryker—the biggest band in the world—and my sister’s absolute favorite band in the entire world!

  Somehow we were up the front. Well not quite. We were one row back from the front. I’m not sure how that happened. I was just there for the ride and had no idea who Ozstryker even were. When Beth, my totally unreliable and impulsive sister had begged me to come with her to see them, I had no idea we would be so up close and personal.

  The crowd around me surged and screamed as the lead singer, an even prettier version of Robert Plant, belted out an obviously favorite number. The girls around me were vocal in their appreciation of the over-the-top singer, specifically what they would do to him if they were given the chance.

  Not since Robert Plant had anyone made the tamborine look so cool.

  When I watched him in his way-too-tight jeans and lion’s mane of blonde curls, I couldn’t help but feel dirty.

  But while the blond singer was beautiful and intriguing to watch, it was the guitarist who caught my eye. His sharp jaw softened by a hint of stubble. Dimpled chin. Eyes bright and heavily lashed. Dark hair messy, like he’d been fucking some lucky woman in bed all afternoon.

  I had no idea God even made men that hot.

  Or that a pair of denim jeans could fit the human body so perfectly.

  It was a physical impossibility to not stare at him. He was mesmerizing. The way he moved. The way he smiled that wait til I get hold of you smile and dragged his teeth over his bottom lip.

  Goddamn. Who the hell was this guy?

  Thanks to my sister’s fierce determination, we were right in front of him and even though he spent a lot of time moving about on stage, he usually ended up right back in front of us.

  In one crazy, too-hard-to-believe moment, he looked over and our eyes met and he smiled. It was a big smile. Huge. And it made my stomach do crazy shit like dance and spin like an out-of-control tumbleweed. He didn’t look away. His eyes, all squinted and beautiful, were aimed right at me and I felt that gaze all the way from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Then he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip again and holy hell!

  Beth, caught up in the frenzy of the first few rows, looked over the other heads at me and grinned. She shook her head and started to laugh, then turned her attention back to the stage.

  I looked back to him and damn, he was still looking right at me. I smiled and looked away, unnerved but thrilled. I may not have known who they were, but hot guitarist guy was getting up close and personal with every sexual urge I’d ever had.

  The crowd roared at his solo. They screamed and cheered, egging him on like they couldn’t get enough. The band played solidly for two hours and in the crowd we all worked up a sweat, especially the first few rows where it was hot and sticky.

  My top was strapless and it tightly hugged my ample boobs. Which was good, because I was sure I was going to lose it a few times when the crowd went crazy around me.

  Towards the final quarter of the show it was time for another guitar solo and the stadium disappeared in a cloak of darkness. From the blackness came the melodic ch
ords from a guitar. Echoing and haunting. Other worldly. Like some kind of intergalactic transmission. It sent goosebumps across every inch of my body and held me rooted to the spot.

  When the lights found him, he was majestic, standing there, his guitar low at his hips, his fingers dancing across the strings. His jaw was sharpened by the shadows despite the hint of stubble, and the dimple in his chin was pronounced. And when the crowd started to chant the letters, “J. A. X … J. A. X …” he acknowledged them with a shy grin and a thumbs up.

  Oh God. He has dimples.

  I couldn’t move if my life depended on it. It was too intoxicating to look away.

  It was easy to see why people were so enchanted by this band. Their music was good; their presence was magnetic. And this guy on guitar … goddamn …

  The guitar solo led into a version of Led Zeppelin’s, Rock and Roll. The stage detonated and became a spectacle of light and sound as the band belted out an awesome version of the classic song. I knew Led Zep. Dad was a fan. I had grown up with Led Zeppelin I, II and III. Houses of the Holy was a favorite. So was Led Zeppelin IV, because Dad was obsessed with Stairway to Heaven.

  Again, I was covered in goose bumps and it had nothing to do with my barely-there top, and everything to do with the amazing guitarist who was looking at me again.

  Not that I was the only one he looked at. It was all a part of his performance, so there was no point in getting carried away.

  But when he did, I felt his gaze all the way from my head to my toes.

  When the show finished and the band vanished from stage, the crowd cried out for an encore. While the people chanted around me, I felt a tap on my shoulder and swinging around came face-to-chest with a huge, bald man towering above me.

  Slowly I looked up and met the eyes of the scary man. He was very intimidating and brutish looking, although he did have very kind eyes. He was trying to give me something, but I couldn’t hear him over the chanting.

  He handed me two laminated tickets. “Courtesy of Jax Ozstryker,” he yelled over the noise.

  I must have looked confused because he repeated it, this time louder. I looked at the laminated tickets in my hands. Backstage Access. I frowned. Obviously this was some kind of mistake. I shook my head and handed them back.

  “No. They are for you,” he yelled.

  I looked up at him and shook my head. “No. I don’t think so.”

  The giant of a man looked confused. Unsure of what to do.

  That was when Beth swept in and pulled the laminated tickets from his giant man-hands.

  “Are you kidding me Layla?” She looked at me like I had grown two heads. Then she looked at the giant. “We’ll be there.”

  Neanderthal man looked relieved and nodded before disappearing back into the crowd.

  I rolled my eyes. Great. Now Beth was making sure we went backstage, when all I wanted to do was head home. I had the breakfast shift in the morning.

  I turned towards the stage. The band had returned to thunderous applause and the hot guitarist was playing the opening chords to The Kinks, Lola.

  Now this song, I knew.

  The familiar song, blended with the intoxicating presence of the sexy-as-sin guitarist was potent. The crowd roared and goosebumps returned to every part of me. And I let go. I let that guitarist draw me in with the bluesy undertones of Lola as I lost myself in the music.

  Surprisingly, he was the one who sang most of this song. The showy, over-the-top lead singer took a back seat, backing him up where necessary with harmony, and a mean tamborine. The crowd loved it. They sang along with it enthusiastically. Hell, I sang along with it enthusiastically and I still wasn’t sure what I was doing there.

  It was easy to be swept away. Mom had loved this song. It was bluesy. A classic. It’s chorus so enjoyably familiar. And although it seemed like an odd song for them to be singing, it totally worked, and the crowd seemed more than appreciative. They all sang along to the chorus—17,000 fans singing as one. Me included.

  Hot guitar guy smiled as he sang and played the hell out of his guitar. I looked around me at all the fans smiling and singing. And when I looked up, well, if he wasn’t goddamn looking at me again. I smiled back at him, caught up in the moment and full of this crazy energy that was Ozstryker on stage.

  With the end of Lola, came the end of the show and there was a disappointment in the air, like the crowd could have kept going. They had been spoon fed a two-hour spectacle of music and light, but they weren’t ready for it to be over. While the guys had more than delivered an outstanding show, die-hard fans still chanted for more.

  Beth grabbed my hand. “I can’t believe you scored us backstage passes. I mean, I saw Jax looking at you … but hell!” She grinned and grabbed my hands. “Let’s go and meet them.”

  I stopped her. “Really? We’re going backstage?”

  She looked at me like I had spoken in some strange alien tongue. “Are you kidding? I’m going back stage and you’re going to come and keep an eye on me to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”

  * * * * *

  Backstage was like another world. Like an invasion of the beautiful people. Everywhere you looked the women were beautiful and flirty. Everyone seemed so worldly. Which was the complete opposite of me.

  Beth on the other hand, was in her element. This was where she belonged and she strutted in there like she was born to be there. She sparkled like champagne wherever she went and people gravitated to her because she was so flirty and interesting. I was the nerd sister. A little more reserved and completely out of place.

  Obviously the big, scary biker-dude who had tapped me on the shoulder to give me the backstage pass had given me the tickets by mistake. I wondered what the cute looking guitarist would do when he realized his Neanderthal-wingman had gotten it so wrong.

  Beth squealed as the band slowly filtered into the room. First in was the drummer. This I gathered, by the pair of drumsticks he still held in his hand. He strutted in, all smiles. He reminded me of Pauly D from Jersey Shore with his cheeky grin and Italian good looks. When his smiled his teeth were bright against his gloriously tanned skin and there was a wicked glimmer in his eyes.

  “That’s Nero. He’s the drummer. He and Jax met in detention at school,” Beth explained excitedly, standing very close so she could give me her running commentary. “And that burly looking guy behind him, that’s Drew Paul, the bassist.”

  Drew Paul looked like he’d stepped out of a keg party. Rotund, he had kind, sparkling eyes and a bearded face that was jovial, like he was about to tell you a dirty joke he found so funny he was having difficulty getting it out.

  “He’s supposed to be one of the nicest guys in the world. Very generous, apparently. Always out to have fun, but never at anyone else’s expense. Apparently, if there is a rude joke to tell, it’s him who tells it. He’s the funny man of the group. Oh and he’s happily married, so he’s not a rock ‘n’ roll man-whore like the others.” She giggled.

  Not far behind the bassist was the vibrant lead singer who was all blonde hair and glitter-glam.

  “And that is Jimmy Ozstryker. Lead singer extraordinaire.” The way she said it made me look at her. Her eyes gleamed across at him and she slowly licked her lips as if Jimmy Ozstryker was something she was about to devour.

  I felt a little afraid for him. He didn’t know it yet, but he had just walked into her cross-hairs.

  I looked back to assess the object of my sister’s affection.

  He was pretty much the quintessential and self-possessed rock star—from his strut to the way he would stand with his hands on hips and flick his head back so his mane of blonde curls danced around his pretty face. Mix Robert Plant with David Lee Roth, add a dash of Steven Tyler, and you had Jimmy Ozstryker. Long blonde hair, bombastic and pretty.

  “And that is Jax. Jimmy’s younger brother and global guitar god,” Beth whispered breathlessly as the beautiful guitarist from the stage trailed in behind the others.

&nbsp
; For every reason beyond my understanding, my heart tried to leap from my body at the sight of him. I watched him, a little in awe of the incredible man-creature. He was quieter than his voracious bandmates. Shy, perhaps. A little uneasy at the attention but at the same time quite used to it.

  His dark hair fell over a creased forehead and around a sharp jawline with a slightly cleft chin. He wore a shy smile that showed off white teeth and reached all the way to his gentle eyes. Lashes were long and almost hid brilliant green eyes as he squinted with every smile. He had muscles. Boy, did he have muscles. And his simple white T-shirt did nothing to hide them. Broad chest muscles and thick biceps strained against the soft fabric and I had to remind myself to breathe.

  “And that is the man who invited you back here,” Beth whispered in my ear.

  Now I was certain the roadie had gotten it wrong. That beautiful man had not picked me out of the crowd. Of that I was absolutely certain.

  I watched him talking to a group of fans that were clearly starstruck by the famous guitarist and the way he took it all in his stride. Minutes later I realized I’d been just as spellbound watching him. So much so that I didn’t notice Beth disappear.

  I quickly looked around me and spotted her across the room. She had already pounced on Jimmy Ozstryker who seemed very impressed with her big boobs. I smiled. My sister had achieved what she’d set out to do; captivate the attention of Jimmy Ozstryker. And now he was looking at her like he was about to eat her.

  Jax appeared next to them and I watched as Beth offered him a dazzling smile and then pointed towards me. Jax followed the direction of her finger and suddenly his eyes were all over me like a pair of big warm hands.

  Of course I was standing there alone, looking like a weirdo, so I blushed. I’d been so distracted by what was going on, it hadn’t occurred to me that I was standing there like a friendless psycho.

  Jax’s smile became huge and before I knew it, he’d crossed the room to me.