Dirty Verse by Cassidy London

The second I saw her, I knew she would be mine.

Swaying seductively to the music, eyes closed, head thrown back, lost in the magic of the music. Her long lithe body and mouth-watering curves had me instantly mesmerized. Her beauty, incomparable, sultry and exotic, called to every cell in my body, louder than the 120 decibels of our last concert.
It should have been easy. Women threw themselves at me day and night. Fans, groupies, waitresses and hairstylists, I was never at a loss for a new body to warm my bed. But Aria Winters was not just another girl. Unphased by fame and stardom, she looked at me with disdain. Her delicate features clearly stating both her haughty attitude and her disinterest.
She must have been the only girl I’d ever met who didn’t like rock stars.
Challenge accepted.
Jax Andersson might have been an internationally famous rock star with a chiseled jawline, piercing black eyes and a voice that made women everywhere swoon, but none of that phased me. The alternative rock world was not my jam. Neither were junkie rock stars whose massive egos blocked out the glare of the sun.
My mission was simple. Help out a friend and then get back to my own life as quickly as possible. But when he offered me the one thing I was desperate for, I couldn’t refuse. Everything changed so quickly and I soon found myself teetering on the edge of losing the very game I had vowed not to play.
I should have stood my ground. He should have kept his distance.
Because now, I was going to have to beat him at his own game.