Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights) Read online

  Rough Rhythm

  A Made In Jersey Novella

  By Tessa Bailey

  1001 Dark Nights

  Rough Rhythm

  A Made In Jersey Novella

  By Tessa Bailey

  1001 Dark Nights

  Copyright 2016 Tessa Bailey

  ISBN: 978-1-940887-97-5

  Foreword: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose

  Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Book Description

  ROUGH RHYTHM

  By Tessa Bailey

  God help the woman I take home tonight.

  Band manager James Brandon never expected to find the elusive satisfaction he’d been chasing, let alone stumble upon it in some sleezy Hollywood meat market. Yet the girl’s quiet pride spoke to him from across the bar, louder than a shout. Troubled, hungry and homeless, she’d placed her trust in him. But after losing the grip on his dark desires that one fateful night, James has spent the last four years atoning for letting her down.

  This time I’ll finally crack him.

  Rock band drummer Lita Regina has had enough of James’s guilt. She wants the explosive man she met that night in Hollywood. The man who held nothing back and took no prisoners—save Lita. And she’ll stop at nothing to revive him. Even if it means throwing herself into peril at every turn, just to get a reaction from her stoic manager. But when Lita takes her quest one step too far, James disappears from her life, thinking his absence will keep her safe.

  Now it’s up to Lita to bring James back…and ignite an inferno of passion in the process.

  Reader Advisory: ROUGH RHYTHM contains fantasies of nonconsensual sex, acted upon by consenting characters. Readers with sensitivity to portrayals of nonconsensual sex should be advised.

  About Tessa Bailey

  Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop, driving cross-country to New York City in under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention. She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband of eight years and four-year-old daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.

  Also from Tessa Bailey

  Click to purchase

  Baiting the Maid of Honor

  Unfixable (New Adult)

  Protecting What's Theirs (novella)

  Staking His Claim

  Asking For Trouble

  Officer Off Limits

  His Risk to Take

  Protecting What's His

  Owned by Fate

  Exposed by Fate

  Riskier Business

  Risking It All (Crossing the Line 1)

  Driven by Fate

  Chase Me (Broke & Beautiful 1)

  Need Me (Broke & Beautiful 2)

  Off Base (novella)

  Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line 2)

  Make Me (Broke & Beautiful 3)

  Crashed Out (Made in Jersey 1)

  Boiling Point (Crossing the Line 3)

  Rough Rhythm

  Upcoming releases:

  Thrown Down (Made in Jersey 2), April 2016

  Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line 4), June 2016

  Worked Up (Made in Jersey 3), August 2016

  Wound Tight (Made in Jersey 4), December 2016

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Liz Berry, M.J. Rose, Jillian Stein and the rest of the magical team behind 1001 Dark Nights. What a freeing experience this was for me as a writer. Your encouragement and excitement is contagious.

  Thank you, as always, to my husband, Patrick, and daughter, Mackenzie, who support me every single day and love me through the ups and downs.

  Thank to my agent, Laura Bradford, for being a steady presence and also the first person to ask, are you sure you want to add more books to your schedule?

  Thank you to Stephanie Lapensee at Inkslinger for reading this book, loving it, and giving me a boost of confidence when needed.

  Thank you to Eagle at Aquila Editing for beta reading this book and wanting to know more about James and Lita’s first night together—I think it made a difference to the story.

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One

  Click here to explore

  FOREVER WICKED by Shayla Black

  CRIMSON TWILIGHT by Heather Graham

  CAPTURED IN SURRENDER by Liliana Hart

  SILENT BITE: A SCANGUARDS WEDDING by Tina Folsom

  DUNGEON GAMES by Lexi Blake

  AZAGOTH by Larissa Ione

  NEED YOU NOW by Lisa Renee Jones

  SHOW ME, BABY by Cherise Sinclair

  ROPED IN by Lorelei James

  TEMPTED BY MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian

  THE FLAME by Christopher Rice

  CARESS OF DARKNESS by Julie Kenner

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights

  TAME ME by J. Kenner

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two

  Click here to explore

  WICKED WOLF by Carrie Ann Ryan

  WHEN IRISH EYES ARE HAUNTING by Heather Graham

  EASY WITH YOU by Kristen Proby

  MASTER OF FREEDOM by Cherise Sinclair

  CARESS OF PLEASURE by Julie Kenner

  ADORED by Lexi Blake

  HADES by Larissa Ione

  RAVAGED by Elisabeth Naughton

  DREAM OF YOU by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  STRIPPED DOWN by Lorelei James

  RAGE/KILLIAN by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright

  DRAGON KING by Donna Grant

  PURE WICKED by Shayla Black

  HARD AS STEEL by Laura Kaye

  STROKE OF MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian

  ALL HALLOWS EVE by Heather Graham

  KISS THE FLAME by Christopher Rice

  DARING HER LOVE by Melissa Foster

  TEASED by Rebecca Zanetti

  THE PROMISE OF SURRENDER by Liliana Hart

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights

  THE SURRENDER GATE By Christopher Rice

  SERVICING THE TARGET By Cherise Sinclair

  Table Of Contents

  Book Description

  About Tessa Bailey

  Also by Tessa Bailey

  Author Acknowledgments

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection T
hree

  Discover the World of 1001 Dark Nights

  An excerpt from Thrown Down by Tessa Bailey

  Special Thanks

  One Thousand And One Dark Nights

  Once upon a time, in the future…

  I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

  I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

  the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

  library at my father’s home and collected thousands

  of volumes of fantastic tales.

  I learned all about ancient races and bygone

  times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

  people through the millennium. And the more I read

  the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

  that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

  become part of them.

  I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

  and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

  would not be telling you this tale now.

  But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

  with bravery.

  One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

  Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

  see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

  (Persian: شهریار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

  sent yesterday’s wife to be beheaded. It was written

  and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,

  the vizier’s daughter, he’d killed one thousand

  women.

  Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

  in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

  places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

  never occurred before and that still to this day, I

  cannot explain.

  Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

  taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

  protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

  protect herself and stay alive.

  Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

  And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

  point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

  And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

  he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

  As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

  one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

  you now.

  Prologue

  God help the woman he took home tonight.

  James Brandon stared down the bar, pegging each customer as they entered his field of vision. Recent divorcée making up for lost time. A new employee showing off to his blasé coworkers by buying a round of tequila shots. Two women pretending to be indecisive over their beverage order, when really they were just waiting for someone to send them drinks. It wouldn’t be him. Christ, he hated this meat market. What the hell had he been thinking coming here?

  Something new. Anything new. Lately, a voice had been chanting those words at the back of his skull. Louder, louder. He thought he’d found the solution to his restlessness this afternoon upon quitting his job as corporate council for a multimillion-dollar investment firm. But, no. It hadn’t. While it might have eased his ceaseless irritation knowing he wouldn’t be responsible for babysitting a bunch of pampered thieves in Armani suits come tomorrow morning, there was still a gnawing in his gut. A need to…wake up.

  Fully aware that another pointless one-night stand couldn’t satisfy his growing hunger for a high he couldn’t name, here he was nonetheless. On his third whiskey in a place he could only describe as obvious, nursing hope so futile, he might as well ask for the check. But…maybe this time. Maybe tonight he would walk away satisfied from an encounter. Fulfilled even to the smallest degree.

  A romantic or idealistic person might suggest James was searching for an emotional connection at the ripe old age of thirty-one. Someone he wanted to discuss current affairs with over bagels the morning after. Not so. He quite enjoyed his solitude, thank you very much. No, it was what took place between the sheets with a woman that left him hollow, and it was through no fault of theirs. This was his. He had a problem. And that same voice that chanted for him to chase an unnamable peak…had begun to project images. Rough, graphic images that shouldn’t turn him on. But did.

  Hell yes, they did.

  So he’d resisted. When you came from a background like his, you fought off any similarities at all costs. His determination was waning, however. Growing weaker by the second. Making a mockery of his will.

  That’s when he saw the girl.

  James’s lungs evacuated all air, deflating him like a cheap balloon.

  And in a split second, nothing else mattered but her.

  Too young. But somehow he knew that wouldn’t stop him. Nothing would. His body responded beneath the bar, his hands gripping the wood to steady himself. It was more than the usual stirring of attraction. Far, far more. A moving picture flashed in his mind, the girl nodding as he spoke softly to her, that delicate chin pinched between his fingers. As if there were perfect understanding between them. Not right now, though. Now, she looked lost, an anomaly among an otherwise seamless pattern of overconfidence. A pattern he hated, needed to remove her from. Now. Urgency took him over, making him feel almost delirious.

  Even the girl’s adrift expression couldn’t hide the sharp intelligence behind her wide eyes, couldn’t hide an unknown mission there. An unmistakable surety that she was looking for him wouldn’t go away. She was the reason he’d come here tonight instead of going home, which had been his initial plan.

  Thank God he hadn’t.

  When the girl stopped and faced a group of men, James rose to his feet, poison ivy climbing the back of his neck. Spiked and dangerous. Its leaves extended and curled tight. Scared. She was scared. Why? He was coming. She just had to hold on a second.

  James’s world tilted right along with the girl when she pitched to the side, her beautiful eyes gone glassy with fear. He moved.

  * * * *

  Lita Regina wasn’t a prostitute. That’s not what tonight was about.

  She just needed to get off the street for one night. One. Night.

  Thought you were made of sterner stuff, didn’t you? Well it turned out, a week of being homeless on the streets of Los Angeles was about all Lita could withstand. While crashing in shelters might have been an upgrade from the situation from which she’d split, cozying up in some rich guy’s hotel room sounded even better. Women had one-night stands all the time, didn’t they? Dressed up, put on expensive perfume and suffered through forced conversation just to feel needed by someone?

  As Lita saw it, her reasons for cruising for a man ranked slightly higher on the survival scale. She’d stretched the fifty dollars she’d vamoosed with by sticking to street vendors and the McDonald’s dollar menu, but someone in the shelter had pocketed her last ten two nights ago as she slept, leaving her broke as a joke. And speaking of jokes, hunger pains were not one. Lita nearly staggered under the intensity of them as she crossed the crowded hotel bar on Wilshire Boulevard, looking for—

  Who? A man with a thing for scrawny chicks with fading bruises? Gazes followed her as she circled the bar, customers probably wondering who the hell had let her into the swank establishment. If they knew she’d ducked in behind two tall blondes while the bouncer checked their identification, outrage would abound. How dare this imposter breach the inner sanctum?

  Lita’s chin went up with that last thought. She wasn’t the imposter. They were. The privileged corporate slaves she’d laughed about with her bandmates, back when she’d had a band. Back when she’d had people who cared. If she hadn’t chosen a man over those friends, they might still be there, too. Then she wouldn’t be in the Beverly Wilshire trolling for someon
e who’d let her share his clean, fluffy hotel bed for the night. Maybe let her take a shower and share a plate of French fries.

  At the thought of salty, savory goodness, Lita’s stomach rumbled loud enough to draw the attention of a group of men. Men in ties. Men that didn’t live in her world. Still, she sent them an inviting smile, praying her sparkly, thrift shop miniskirt looked better in the near dark than it had on the rack.

  The words, please, I’m hungry, were burning on her tongue, but she couldn’t just say that, could she? They would alert security or turn their backs, muttering about the lack of decent drinking establishments for professionals such as themselves. Before they finished their drinks, she would be an afterthought.

  One of the men—he wore a blue button-down shirt and ruby red tie—checked her legs out, his expression relaying interest. He nudged his friend with an elbow and Lita stood there, stomach twisting, as the four of them looked her up and down. A polar blast swept over her skin, far cooler than the air conditioning. No. This wasn’t what she’d envisioned, but could see now that she’d been wearing rose-colored glasses, even after being chewed up and spit out on the curb of life. After everything, she was still naïve. Still an optimist.

  How fucking sad.

  “How much for all of us?” Ruby Red Tie asked before tossing back the contents of his rocks glass. “At the same time.”

  For the first time that day, an empty stomach was a blessing because Lita would have lost the contents right there on the men’s shiny loafers. They’d categorized her as a working girl in under ten seconds. Everyone in the room probably had. Maybe they were right. Even if she found a way off the street tonight, what about tomorrow? Would she keep doing this? Lita’s attention spanned the room in quick jerks, taking in the way other women were dressed. How men looked at them. With respect. One week. It had only taken one week for her to fall this far.