Aaron: Mating Fever (Rocked by the Bear Book 4) Read online

  Aaron

  Rocked by the Bear

  V. Vaughn

  Sugarloaf Press

  Contents

  Copyright

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by V. Vaughn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by Croco Designs

  Editing by Jodi Henley and Red Adept Publishing

  Don’t miss an installment from V. Vaughn. Sign up for her newsletter.

  Foreword

  Olivia Dalton might have a little problem with control. She maintains a perfect GPA, has a flawless wardrobe and can bend people around her to fit her needs - until she meets the guy that throws her off beat with one glance. When the sexy drummer flashes his crooked smile her way, she comes undone at the seams and struggles to regain order. Fate has other ideas, making Olivia question everything she ever knew.

  Aaron Lindquist was drawn to the fiery redhead, Olivia the first time he laid eyes on her. Her good girl appearance didn’t fool him for a minute. One touch of her hand was all it took to make sparks fly between them. But as his polar opposite, Olivia refuses to let her animal out.

  Chapter 1

  AARON

  by V. Vaughn

  Chapter 2

  I gaze into Courtney’s big eyes framed by dark eyeliner as I say, “I have to have them.” I’m talking about the guys in the band Second Sound. The four brothers that make up the majority of the band are impossibly tall, muscular, and have blond hair and blue eyes that make any woman swoon. But the band has recently become famous, and I have no idea how I’ll book them to play at a sorority fundraiser with our budget.

  A hair elastic yanks my locks as I rip it from my head to redo my ponytail, and I say, “What we need is someone who knows one of them.” I sigh as I look in my dorm room mirror and try once again to tame my curly hair that seems to get bigger every time I touch it. My scalp hurts when I drag the brush through my locks hard in an effort to make my ponytail perfectly smooth.

  Courtney huffs, and I turn to find her arms are crossed as she rolls her eyes at me and says, “I’ve got this covered, Olivia.”

  “Do you? How? Are you friends with one of the members of the band?” I ask.

  “Close enough,” she says. “One of the new transfers knows the drummer. Remember Jax?”

  Courtney and I both have part-time jobs in admissions at Bowdoin College, and one of our duties is to help transfer students adjust smoothly. Last month twin brothers arrived from the University of Maine, and their sexy dark hair and electric-blue eyes makes them hard to forget. I say, “Then work your charm, because I plan to leave behind a legacy as the president of A Phi.”

  “Good. We’re meeting him in five minutes,” says Courtney.

  “What? I don’t suppose you could have told me that sooner.” My roommate has no appreciation for my schedule, and I huff as I swipe on mascara. If I didn’t need Second Sound so much I’d tell her I can’t go. I have a Brit Lit paper I’ve got to work on, and my newspaper article needs to be proofed and... I shake my head, because the band is my chance at becoming a legend. The amount of money they’ll help me raise for the sorority’s charity this year will be astronomical. I won’t risk Courtney screwing this up. I have to go.

  “Jax just texted me a few minutes ago,” she says. Courtney is the kind of girl that pulls all-nighters to get assignments done instead of starting them ahead of time, while I carefully plan so that I never miss a detail.

  I say, “I’m almost ready.” I mentally adjust my schedule to accommodate our impromptu meeting as I turn to my backpack and double-check that I have everything I need for my study session at the library. Change jingles in a pocket as I make sure I have enough for a coffee later this afternoon.

  Fabric rustles, and I glance up to see Courtney pull off her shirt. I ask, “What are you doing? I thought you said five minutes?”

  “Five minutes girl time.” She grins at me as she tosses her blouse to the bottom of her closet, and a hanger clatters as she yanks a shirt off it.

  Now it’s my turn to cross my arms, and my shoe taps on the floor as I wait for her to change. “You do this on purpose to make me crazy, don’t you?”

  She chuckles. “I don’t have to try. You’re so unadaptable that when a store moves the toothpaste you go into a tailspin.”

  “Well, that’s stupid on their part.” I scowl as I recall wasting precious time searching for my brand, and I picture the stock boy’s face when I told him what I thought about their customer service. He looked as if he was going to cry. Maybe I did go a bit too far. “Dental hygiene is serious business.” I glance at my phone to see we have three minutes left. “Where are we meeting? I’ll go ahead so he doesn’t leave.”

  “Olivia, chill.” Courtney pulls her long blond hair from her top as she walks to the door, and I’m a little jealous of how smooth it is in the humidity as she says, “I’m ready.”

  I follow behind her and tuck in the tag that’s sticking out of her shirt as she locks the door. Our footsteps echo off the concrete walls of the stairwell as we descend toward street level. I ask, “So what’s the plan? Are we sweet-talking Jax into asking his friend to help us?”

  “We sweet-talk his friend Aaron into helping us.”

  My insides tingle a bit, and suddenly I’m concerned about my choice of clothing. I squeak out, “We’re meeting him too?” I recall the drummer from the night they played in a local bar. He defines bad boy with his spiked hair and vast number of tattoos on his arms and chest. He’s not my type, but definitely attractive. Aaron is Courtney’s type though, and I bet she’ll be giving him her best effort.

  Warm sun greets us when we get outside. There are only a few weeks of the semester left, and today’s temperatures are a tease of the summer to come. Courtney says, “We’re meeting them in front of the student union,” as she leads us in the right direction.

  I flash to a recurring dream I used to have when I was in high school. They were vivid sex dreams that always ended with a bear. I shake my head, wondering what triggered that random memory, as we approach a small crowd. I notice Jax standing off to the side as students pepper Aaron with questions. The drummer soaks up the attention.

  Jax nods to us, and when we get to him I say, “Thanks for arranging this. I’ll reserve tickets for you and a date.”

  He glances at Courtney and scans her curvy body in a nanosecond as he smiles. “Now why would I bring a date to a sorority event?”

  Courtney flirts right back as she coos, “You’re a smart man.”

  Aaron’s voice carries over to us as he says, “If you’ll excuse me, the president of A Phi needs my attention.”

  I never thought I was the type to be starstruck, but the slight gravel in his tone makes tiny hairs on my body stand on end, and a flush of heat rushes through me as he captures my gaze. His eyes are the color of denim that’s faded to a flimsy softness, and he locks gazes with me as he moves toward us. I catch my breath as if he’s a predator stalking me.

&n
bsp; I scowl at my reaction, because I’m no groupie. Extending my hand, I become all business as I say, “Olivia Dalton. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Aaron’s lips turn up in a crooked smile, and my knees threaten to buckle at the sex appeal he oozes as he reaches to take my hand. And when he grasps my fingers I hold on tight to steady myself, because the heat of his touch races through me like a lightning bolt. “Aaron Lindquist, and the pleasure is most definitely mine.”

  I jerk my hand away, because I don’t do flustered. I clear my throat to gain control before I say, “Thank you for meeting with me. Did Jax tell you what I want?”

  Aaron’s still smiling at me as if he’s the one in control and asks, “Something about a fundraiser concert and you’d like Second Sound to play, right?”

  He steps closer to me, and I swear I can feel heat radiate from him as I say, “Yes. And I know the pay is insulting considering you’re making millions now, but it’s for a charity I’m sure you’ll get behind once I explain--”

  Aaron reaches behind my head and tugs at my hair elastic as he interrupts me. “Hair like yours should never be contained.”

  I gasp when he pulls out my ponytail and my mass of curls falls around my shoulders. I snatch the hair elastic from his hand as he chuckles. Damn him! If I didn’t need his band to play so badly, I’d let my temper loose. I shut my eyes for a second to regain my composure and take a deep breath. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now about the children--”

  I stop abruptly when Aaron steps so close that our bodies are almost touching, making me have to crane my neck to gaze up at him. I sputter, “I--” I realize he’s teasing me, and instead of stepping back I stand my ground as I place my hands on my hips and ask, “Are you going to do this or not?”

  Aaron twists a strand of my hair around his finger, and my temper is so close to the surface I’m about to explode with my anger as he says, “We’ll play on one condition.”

  I grit out, “Fine. Name it.”

  “Go out with me.”

  Now I do step back. “What?”

  “Spend a day with me, Olivia Dalton.” He pauses to lick his lips, and my body trembles as I imagine what his tongue would feel like on my skin. “And we’ll do it for free.”

  I glare at him. The audacity! But Aaron’s got me cornered, because he knows I’d be a fool to refuse. I’m not sure what he has in mind, but I can think of the kinds of things a guy like him might demand, so I make my boundaries clear. “One day. That’s twelve hours. We don’t leave the town of Brunswick, we stay in public places. And. You keep your hands off of me.”

  “Deal.”

  Courtney’s squeals remind me that Aaron and I are not alone. “Fantastic! Thank you so much, Aaron.”

  I turn to Jax and want to smack the amusement off his face as I force myself to say, “Thanks for arranging this.”

  He shrugs in reply, and I turn my attention back to Aaron. “Do you have a day in mind for our -- arrangement?”

  “Saturday. I’ll pick you up outside of your dorm at seven.”

  I hide my surprise at the early hour and try to imagine a guy like him getting up before noon. “Sure. And we can talk about the details of the concert then.”

  He nods once and says, “Don’t make plans for Saturday night, Olivia. You’re going to want to spend it with me.”

  The urge to growl comes over me, and my snarl surprises me when I say, “I doubt that.” Aaron has the nerve to wink at me before he turns back to his adoring fans. More than my temper burns inside me. Something primal makes my hormones quiver in excitement at the idea of spending time with the bad boy drummer that is so not my type.

  Chapter 3

  I tried hard not to think about my date with Aaron, but the truth is for two days I couldn’t get him out of my mind. In more than one class I found myself daydreaming about the way his smile turns up unevenly, or how his touch made me tremble with desire. Perhaps it’s my wild side wanting a fling with a bad boy, or maybe it’s plain old physical attraction that has me looking forward to spending my Saturday with Aaron despite myself.

  Courtney’s voice croaks with drowsiness as she sits up in her bed to talk to me. “You look great with your hair down. Are you nervous?”

  I turn back to the mirror and grab a hair tie. “Of course not. I don’t care if he doesn’t like me.” I lift my hair to pull it back but realize Aaron would probably just pull it out and keep it, so I stop. “It would serve him right.”

  My roommate chuckles before she says, “You’re not fooling me. You’ve changed your outfit five times.”

  I squint at her as I wonder if the jeans and long-sleeve tee I’m wearing are right. “I thought you were asleep.”

  “Admit it. Aaron is smoking hot, famous, and he wants you. Who wouldn’t be nervous?”

  “I don’t get it,” I say as I realize what might be bothering me. I live my life planning what will happen next because I’m not a fan of the unknown. “We don’t even know each other. Why would he want to go out with me so badly?”

  “Maybe he has a thing for good girls”--she waggles her eyebrows--“and corrupting them.”

  My backpack is heavy as I hoist it up on my bed and begin to check the contents. I packed everything I could think of that I might need today, since I have no idea what Aaron plans for us to do over the next twelve hours. “I’ll let you know how that goes.”

  “I’m not worried. You’re a fortress, and he’s not penetrating your blockades unless you want him to.”

  I know. And that’s what scares me, because I can feel the walls crumbling. “I’m not that uptight.”

  Courtney sighs, and her bed squeaks as she climbs out. “You kind of are. But I love you anyway.” She tilts her head at me. “That’s quite the overnight bag. I don’t think Aaron is the kind of guy that would require much. I bet he’s into naked.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “Funny. Since I have no idea what we’re doing today I figured I’d better be prepared.”

  She smiles at me before walking to the mirror and grimacing at her reflection. Courtney didn’t remove her makeup before bed, and black eyeliner is smudged on her face. No matter how many times I tell her that leads to infection, she doesn’t listen. My zipper hums shut, and I stand to leave. “I’ll be back in time for the party at Beta.”

  Courtney turns to me with a grin. “That’s not what Aaron has planned.” I groan thinking about his statement that I’d want to spend the night with him, and she says, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  The metal doorknob is cool in my hand as I grasp it. “Since when did I let some guy dictate my life?”

  “Never. But don’t underestimate the charms of a rock star. Seriously, though, let yourself have fun today anyway, okay?”

  I smile with mischief on my mind. “If torturing a bad boy is fun, I will. Bye.”

  I hoist my pack over my shoulder, and the weight of it makes my strap cut into my shoulder as I walk down the hall toward the stairs. I think about how Courtney said I’m uptight. So yeah, I like to have a plan, and I do follow rules. But uptight? I shake my head and jog down the steps to exit into cool morning air. The rumble of a motorcycle catches my attention, and I glance over to see Aaron riding it. I take a deep breath, because while my first reaction is to demand we take a car, I push it away. I can be a free spirit when I want to be, and something tells me that’s the attitude I’m going to need to make it through a day with the sexy drummer coming my way.

  When Aaron cuts the engine I say, “You’re early.”

  “Did you expect me to be late?” He swings a leg over the bike as he stands.

  Yes. “No.” I take in his sizable chest as he removes a leather jacket and notice his T-shirt strains across rippling muscles.

  “Here.” He hands me the coat. “This is for you. It can get cold on the back of one of these.”

  The worn leather is warm in my fingers, and the faint odor of male wafts up to me. “So you think I’ve never been on a motorcycl
e?”

  “No.” He grins as if he knows I haven’t.

  When I put the coat on it feels as if it were heated up in an oven, and I ask, “Are you always this warm?”

  “It’s genetic.” He gives me a cocky grin as he says, “The Lindquists run hot.”

  Uh-huh.

  A helmet clatters as he removes it from the handlebar. “Tuck your hair up in this.”

  I don’t manage to keep my annoyance at his order out of my voice when I ask, “Where are we going?”

  “Breakfast.”

  To say I’m trembling when I climb on behind Aaron is an understatement. I know the likelihood of us getting in an accident is slim, but I’m way out of my comfort zone. I wiggle my bottom to the very back of the seat. Aaron glances over his shoulder and says, “You never said you couldn’t touch me.”

  I scowl at him. “I’m fine.”

  “Really? And how do you plan to stay on, because as you can see I don’t have any handles.”

  Damn it.

  He says, “Scoot up close and wrap your arms around my waist.”

  I move up and try to ignore the heat of him between my thighs as I place my hands on his rock-hard abs. My nerve endings send wicked thoughts to my brain, and I do my best to shut them out.

  Aaron’s a careful driver, and we stay well behind the car in front of us. Even though I’m nervous, the wind blowing around us gives me an exhilarating sense of speed and freedom. Aaron puts the blinker on far before he needs to for the turn into a local diner, and I realize he’s being cautious with me. When we stop he tells me to climb off, and the helmet clicks as I undo the strap with shaky fingers.

  Aaron watches me and asks, “Did I go too fast?”

  I don’t detect anything but concern, and I’m grateful. “No. The speed was just right. My blood sugar must be low.”