Marooned with the Rock Star (A Crazily Sensual Rock Star Romance, with Humor) Read Free

is equally tight as well, as are his
thighs. He is as tall as I remembered. His eyes are still as blue
as ever. They are now wide open with surprise. Shock.
Remembrance.
    Bad remembrance.
    God, he’s beautiful. I have always thought
so, that smug bastard. Unfortunately, his beauty also goes with
cruelty. I only know it too well.
    He doesn’t say anything to me. He is still
too stunned. I suppose he doesn’t expect to see me working on a
cruise ship. Then again, I didn’t expect to see him mopping the sun
deck of a cruise ship on the Atlantic en route to the Bahamas.
    You see, I purposefully did not follow
Kurt Taylor’s career.
    I did not, for instance, watch his
performances on that program, American Rock Star , where they
screen contestants for that awful rock band whose music I never
liked.
    I did not, for another instance, download his
official Vevo channel on YouTube to watch his music videos as he
gyrates and twists and shakes his well-shaped bum to dance moves I
never knew he had when I watched him glide on the floor during our
prom.
    I completely refused to indulge in Googling
his name to see which news channels he appeared on. I’ll admit I
was curious, but I stemmed that curiosity by choosing to work
harder than ever at my college courses.
    It was difficult at first, but that curiosity
wore off after a while, and Kurt Taylor became another footnote in
the corner of my brain, to be tucked away and filed in a box and
stamped with ‘DANGER: DO NOT OPEN’.
    So I am fairly astonished to see him working
a mop on a cruise ship.
    But I can’t ask him his reasons for being
here right now, because I have just dumped water all over him. He
probably will never speak to me again for as long as we both shall
live. Which might not be very long in my case if he has anything to
do with it.
    My cheeks feel warm. Whatever possessed me to
lose control of myself like that? But Kurt Taylor had always done
that to me – bring out the worst of my temper. I really can’t
suppress my rage and negative energy around him. Never could and
probably never will.
    Before I can embarrass us both any further, I
make myself walk away without another word.
     
    *
     
    Damn.
     
    *
     
    With these kinds of things, there are usually
repercussions.
    The bad thing about being in a ship is that
there is an astronomical price to download anything on the
Internet, either by the data plan on your cellphone or the ship’s
computers in the business center. The staff go everywhere with
pagers and walkie-talkies.
    If I had a cheap Internet line on my
cellphone, I would be furiously downloading webpages now as to find
out why Kurt Taylor is on this ship.
    I am in my bunk. Moping. Or at least, trying
to mope while I speculate as to what happened with Kurt Taylor.
    I am naturally too proud to ask anyone about
him. I’m sure that snot-nosed kid would have given me the rundown.
As it is, my pride is leaving me to speculate wildly as to why he
is on this ship, washing the deck.
    Some reasons may possibly include:
His latest album release has failed
miserably. He is now irretrievably bankrupt. Instead of working at
Wendy’s and asking, “Would you like fries with that?”, he opts to
hide away his sorrows at sea instead.
He has two million dollars to pay in back
taxes and he’s on the run from the IRS.
He is in hiding from an overzealous fan who
is stalking him and wants to make him her baby’s papa.
He is actually on the FBI’s witness
protection program
He lost a bet to a band member and he has to
perform janitorial duties as a penance.
     
    This is probably the only time I have
regretted being on a cruise ship during my four days on board so
far. Not having Google at my beck and call.
     
    *

    I do not actually work for the cruise line.
My job is more complicated than that. Uh . . . well, as complicated
as complicated first jobs get, that is.
    As a psychology major, I wanted to work with
geriatrics, especially those who are pre-Alzheimer’s. I wanted