Page 14 of How to Be a Rockstar's Girlfriend

“Why? Are you some famous stalker?”

“Stalker? Me?”

“You’re the one who keeps insisting I google you. What do you expect me to think?”

“I didn’t expect you to think I’m a stalker.” I clear my throat. “Let’s start over.” She doesn’t respond so I rush to continue. “Hi, Mercy. I’m Gibson. It’s lovely to meet you.”

We shake hands. “You’re weird.”

“I’m not used to introducing myself to people.”

“Oh, are you a hermit? Is it scary for you to be amongst this many people?”

“I’m not a damn hermit,” I growl.

She shrugs and I watch as her breasts jiggle with the movement. My fingers tingle to touch her, to knead her breasts, to pinch her nipples until she’s crying my name.

She snaps her fingers in my face. “My eyes are up here.”

“Sorry.”

She snorts. “You’re not sorry.”

I grin. I’m not.

“This has been lovely. Not. But I need to go.” She starts to leave, but I shackle her wrist to stop her.

She glares down at my hand on her, and I immediately let go and step back.

“I have a proposal for you.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Why would I care?”

“It’ll help get your uncle off your back.”

“I’m listening.”

Chapter 5

Bad boy – the last person you should make an agreement to fake date

Mercy

Gibson has a proposal for me? A proposal to help me with my uncle? I’m all ears.

Or, at least, I’m trying to be. It’s hard to concentrate on the words coming out of his mouth when all I want to do is stare at him. From top to toe Gibson Lewis is catnip to me.

He has light brown hair mussed up to make it appear as if he just got out of bed. I want to run my hands through it and muss it up even more. I bet if I tug on the ends, he’ll moan in pleasure.

I wonder what it would take to get those light brown eyes to darken with passion. Perhaps if I scraped my fingernails along the shadow of a beard on his chin. And those cheekbones. Holy batman. I could cut glass on those cheekbones.

I continue my perusal of his body. He’s lean but I could feel his strength when he snatched my wrist.

All of the above makes for a very, very pretty package, but the icing on the top is the tattoos. He’s covered in them. I do love a bad boy. And those tattoos spell bad boy in all capitals.

Good thing I’m on a break from men because Gibson Lewis has heartbreak written all over him. Heartbreak is always the end result when you fall for a player. Ask me how I know.

“Are you done?” He winks.

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