Read Heavy Metal Heart: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance for Free Online Page B

A soft moan unintentionally escaped her lips. His mouth felt so good, a mix of softness from his lips and tongue, and roughness from his beard. He kissed her with passion and intensity, and yet enough gentleness to let her respond and kiss back. 
    One of his hands crept up her stomach to her breasts and a sharp thrill ran through her, but her mind raced with bewilderment. 
    He was my ex’s boss and best friend! How can this be happening? Does he just want to fuck me as a conquest? Isn’t there some kind of bro-code against this?  
    She gasped as his hand slid inside the top of her dress to cup the fullness of her breast. At the same time, his mouth trailed down her neck to the hot, tender spot between her neck and shoulder.
    Suddenly, he pulled away and walked briskly across the hotel room. 
    Helena took a few seconds to awaken from her arousal-induced haze before she saw he was scrolling through a phone. 
    Her phone. 
    Her hands flew to her chest. That motherfucker!  He saw she stored everything down the front of her dress and copped a feel to steal her phone.
    “Give me that!” She ran toward him and grabbed for it, but he easily dodged her reach.
    “Hmm, nice selfies,” he said with a delighted smirk. 
    “I’m fucking serious, Torsten! Give me back my phone!”
    “Fine, here you go.” 
    She snatched it from his hand and furiously returned to the start of the picture app. No, he didn’t!
    “You asshole, did you delete that picture?” she demanded. 
    “I did. That girl didn’t do anything to you and she deserves her privacy.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it casually. 
    Her heart sank as the panic set in. That picture was the only thing she had on Torsten. Maybe it wasn’t worth much like he said, but she hoped it would cover her rent and yes, tarnish his image if even a little. 
    She also couldn’t help but feel a sting of rejection. He wasn’t actually attracted to her. He only kissed and touched her to get to that photo. 
    “What am I going to do now?” she said aloud to no one.
    “If you need money, I’ll give it to you. I’m sure Lars owes you plenty.” Saying that while shrouded in cigarette smoke made Torsten look like some kind of crime boss. 
    “I’m not taking money from you!” she hissed. “Everything I make, I earn. That’s how I’ve always done it.”
    “Ah, and what an honest living you’re making,” Torsten said scornfully. “Breaking into hotel rooms, invading my privacy, and taking photos without permission. Keep up the good work, love.”
    Why does he always say love? Is he trying to be British or something?
    “Here’s an idea, Helena,” he began lightheartedly. “Stay the night with me. I’ll be the best fuck you’ve ever had and you’ll forget all about your ex-husband. Tomorrow you can publish a story detailing your night with the God of Heavy Metal. A firsthand account! The papers will eat it up.” 
    For the first time that evening Helena felt pure, seething anger. He really thought she would prostitute herself like that?
    “You’re a special kind of asshole, Torsten,” she spat. 
    “I’m flattered.” 
    “I bet you are! You enjoy comforting me, then insulting me, then kissing me, then stealing from me, then suggesting I whore myself to you? All in one night! You’ve got some fucking nerve.” 
    He said nothing in response but continued smoking like some ultra-cool bad boy out of a movie. His eyes pierced through the smoky veil, clear and cold as a shimmering pool. 
    Helena knew she should leave, but those eyes froze her in place. In the off chance he decided to give a straight answer, she asked one more time.
    “What do you want from me?”
    He shrugged his chiseled shoulders again. That infuriating fucking shrug. 
    “You broke into my room, in case you forgot.”
    Of course.
    She had enough of his arrogance and stormed to the door. With one motion, she grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Before leaving, she said bitingly,