Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 47381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Jolie Ryan needs a break.
A break from the constant demands of touring with her band, from the screaming fans. From the disappointed stares and snide remarks of one Brand Starr.
What she definitely does not need is for Brand to follow her to Rawhide Ranch. And she certainly doesn’t need him turning on his Daddy charm, pampering and spoiling and pleasuring her beyond anything she’s ever imagined.
Then again, a rockstar Daddy who sees her as the precious jewel she is instead of the perpetual burden she’s always thought herself to be, could be exactly what this Little girl needs…
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Jolie stared down at the guitar laying in its case.
She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
The noise from the fans out in the stadium was deafening. The band currently performing was nearly finished with their set. Then there was a break before The Raging Misfits went on.
But she couldn’t go out there.
She couldn’t even pick up the guitar.
A wave of nausea hit her hard.
Just tell Mikey you’re ill. The guys can handle this set without you.
Right. They might be able to go on without her on guitar. But not without their lead vocalist.
You’re being an idiot.
How many concerts have you played? Thousands.
She’d managed to get through their rehearsal this morning. Just. But now… how was she meant to pick up her guitar and freaking sing when she could barely breathe? She was trembling, sweaty, and nauseous.
This couldn’t be happening.
Closing her eyes, she breathed in deep.
Pick up the guitar.
But she couldn’t… she couldn’t do it.
The other members of The Raging Misfits would understand if she told them. They’d been together for years. The guys were like family to her.
This tour was their big break, though. For years, they’d played in bars and clubs. Until one day an agent saw them play and signed them on.
And now they were on an eighteen-month tour with Velvet Rock. They’d been playing for almost five months straight.
And with every concert, every new town, she felt that knot in her chest tighten.
You’re going to disappoint everyone.
Get out there. Stop being a fuck-up.
This was the last concert before they had a break so everyone could go home to spend Fourth of July with their families.
Not that she had a family to go home to.
Shit. The more time she spent staring at her guitar, the worse she felt.
She couldn’t.
Taking a step back, she nearly tripped.
Another step.
One more and her breath started to ease.
She wasn’t going on. No way. She… she had to get away. Go somewhere quiet.
And try to breathe.
Where the fuck was she?
Brand Starr stomped through the backstage area of the venue, searching through the rooms. There were people everywhere and yet no-one had seen that tiny brat?
He wasn’t buying it.
She was hiding and inconveniencing them all. The stage manager was freaking out because he couldn’t find her, and there were five minutes until The Raging Misfits was on stage.
So where was she?
If this was some damn prank, then he was going to introduce her ass to his hand. He’d been having that thought for a while now. It was fast becoming an obsession.
Putting her over his lap.
Spanking her ass until it turned cherry red.
Then wiping away her tears and reassuring her that she was Daddy’s good girl.
Fuck.
A fantasy. That’s all it was.
When Mikey, the tour manager, said that this unknown band was joining their tour to open for them, he’d thought the other man had lost his mind. Brand had kind of lost it.
Yeah, he had a temper.
But most of the time, he could keep it under control. Gone were the times when he’d tear shit up in a rage. Nope, he was a tame guy now.
Well, as tame as a rock ‘n roller ever got.
Still, he hadn’t been happy with Mikey. At all.
He’d figured The Raging Misfits would be like all newbies to the touring circuit. They’d come in arrogant and with inflated egos. Then moan and complain when they realized how much fucking hard work it was.
Especially her.
She was young and tiny. Inexperienced. He hadn’t expected her to last a month before pulling out. Nothing sexist about it. But you had to have stamina and grit to last on tour and he hadn’t seen it when he’d first met her.
So yeah, he’d expected her to balk at the hard work and determination needed.
Well, she’d proven him wrong.
Five months in and she was showing she was tougher than he’d ever imagined. She hadn’t really stepped a foot wrong. She was the first one to every rehearsal. Always putting in a hundred and ten percent. And she was kind and polite to everyone.
Even him.
He knew that had to be hard because he could kind of be a dick sometimes.
Stuff often came out of his mouth before he thought about how it might sound.
But she had taken everything he threw at her and kept on smiling.
Although… that didn’t mean she didn’t have her ways of getting revenge. He grinned as he remembered the peanut butter in his bed. And the salt in his coffee. Oh, and then there was the chili sauce in his shower gel.
Yeah, that one had nearly ended with her over his knee. Of course, she’d never owned up to any of it. But each incident happened to coincide with when he’d been extra dickish to her.
No, she hadn’t misstepped.
Until now.
And if she didn’t get her little ass into gear and out onto the stage, then he was going to be seriously unimpressed.