My rockstar assistant, p.1
My Rockstar Assistant, page 1
My Rockstar Assistant
A Hot Lesbian Romance
The Friends to Lovers Series
by
Reba Bale
MY ROCKSTAR ASSISTANT
© 2022 by Reba Bale
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system in any form by any means without express permission from the author or publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction intended for mature audience only. Any resemblance to events, locations, businesses, or actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.
About This Book
Her new assistant is strictly professional – at least until the night she lets her hair down.
Rock superstar Lila never set out to be a lesbian icon. She’s adored by millions and plays to sold-out stadiums around the world, yet she longs for the quiet comfort of a wife and family.
After a long string of crappy jobs, Christine is thrilled to get the chance to work as the personal assistant to a famous rockstar. Her last long-term relationship crashed and burned the week before the wedding, and she’s ready to have some adventures and escape the judgment of her small town. This job is her chance to prove to everyone that she’s not the hot mess they think she is.
When Lila and Christine get snowed in at Lila’s mountain cabin on Valentine's weekend, their attraction becomes too hard to resist. It turns out that they’re not as different as people might think. But when the snow melts and the paparazzi come knocking on the door, their off-limits relationship is suddenly in the spotlight. Will their love withstand the scrutiny?
“My Rockstar Assistant” is book three in the “Friends to Lovers” romantic novella series. Each book in the series is a steamy standalone featuring an LGBTQ couple making the leap from friends to lovers and looking for their "happily ever after". This book includes explicit sexual activity between consenting adults. It is intended for mature audiences only.
Be sure to check out a free preview of “Spanking Justice: A Middle-Aged Divorcee’s First Spanking” at the end of this book!
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Disclaimer
Disclaimer
Christine
Lila
Christine
Lila
Christine
Lila
Christine
Lila
Christine
Epilogue – Lila
Special Preview
Other Books by Reba Bale
Christine
“Here’s your coffee, Lila.”
“Good lord, I was starting to worry you got lost.”
I flushed as my boss sent me an impatient look. I’d been working for her for about four months now, but she still intimidated me a tiny bit. After all, Lila was one of the biggest music stars in the world. She was so big she was just known by her first name, like Cher or Sting.
She was also a lesbian icon, loved and lusted after by pretty much every woman on the planet – and most of the men too.
She had a banging body that she worked hard for, with strong thighs, a trim waist, muscular arms, and a pair of generous breast that were almost too perfect to be real. Mournful brown eyes shone bright in her tanned face, framed by naturally thick lashes. She wore her thick shoulder-length brown hair tousled so it always looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. She was the perfect combination of “girl next door” and sexy.
Lila was addicted to the coconut milk caramel macchiato at Starbucks. Every morning, every city we went to, she had to get a coconut milk caramel macchiato. Or I had to get one for her, anyway. She liked the way they always tasted exactly the same at every Starbucks in the world and she refused to drink a macchiato from any other coffee shop, even on the rare occasions that we were in a town without a Starbucks. It was one of those superstar quirks you always hear about, like not wanting red M&Ms in the candy dish.
“Their registers were down. I had to wait for them to come back up,” I explained. “Did you autograph those pictures while I was gone?”
As Lila’s assistant, part of my job was to keep her on track. Like any creative type, she had a tendency to get distracted. She’d think of a chord or some random words that she thought would be good as song lyrics and off she’d go like a dog chasing a squirrel, her original task completely forgotten. I’d learned to put a pen and notebook in every room we were in, and repeatedly directed her to write down her ideas and then go back to her original tasks. I’d also put her on a strict schedule.
“Yes ma’am,” she said smartly. “I finished all my autographing duties.”
As much as Lila claimed she didn’t want to be managed, something in her craved structure. Or maybe she just liked to be told what to do. Fortunately for both of us, I had a bossy streak a mile long. She might grumble about my schedules and lists, and she might make fun of me for my ever-present iPad, but she almost always obeyed me.
Obeyed. My mind immediately went to other ways Lila could obey me. Images of her on her knees licking my pussy or begging for me to let her come while she was tied to my bed filled my head – not for the first time—and my panties immediately became damp. Damn hormones.
It was too bad that she was not only my boss but a rich and famous superstar. There was no way that someone like Lila would be attracted to me, would submit to me, let alone have the long-term relationship that I’d been dreaming about my whole life.
Not that I should be thinking about relationships at all right now.
Six months ago, I’d been living in the same small town I’d grown up in, engaged to a woman I’d known my whole life, and working as a receptionist at the local dentist’s office. I had a degree in project management, but my ex-fiancée Susan had insisted that we needed to live near our families and for some reason, I’d just gone along with it. As a result, I’d spent the ten years since college drifting from one boring and unsatisfying low-paying job to another.
It was a running joke in the town that a person never knew where I’d turn up next. Receptionist, cashier, window decorator, factory worker, barista...I’d done it all.
I’d hated every single one of those jobs. None of them could hold my interest, but it wasn’t like there were any good project management jobs in a town that had only ten thousand people on a good day.
As if my life wasn’t enough of a cliché already, the week before I was supposed to marry Susan I walked in to find her licking another woman’s pussy. Needless to say, that was the end of that relationship. I’d been pissed, but not exactly heart-broken. That told me more about the state of our relationship than anything. I wasn’t in love with my fiancée, not the way I should have been. I couldn’t even say why I’d stayed with her so long. We started dating in high school and just never stopped.
I was glad she cheated on me, honestly. Otherwise, I would have let inertia carry me into a marriage with a person I didn’t even like that much and doomed myself to a lifetime of boring vanilla sex. As dishonest as it was for Susan to be with another woman, I knew it was equally dishonest for me to imagine I was with someone else – someone a little more adventurous—every time we had sex.
After the break-up I’d gone to stay with my friend from college, Miranda. She gave me a place to stay and time to lick my wounds. Free from the judgement of my small town, I also slept my way through every lesbian in Seattle, exploring my sexuality in a way I’d never been able to when I was with my ex. Miranda happened to work for the firm that was Lila’s management company, so when this job opened up she put in a good word for me. The rest, as they say, was history.
I moved to Los Angeles and began managing the biggest rock star in the world. It turns out that experience in project management transfers really well to being someone’s personal assistant. The fact that this job paid more than four times more than I’d been making back in my hometown didn’t suck either. Even with the higher cost of living in L.A. I was still able to sock away some money for an emergency. Of course, unlike my other jobs, this one involved a brutal travel schedule and being available around the clock. But I still loved it.
I sat down across from where Lila was slouched on the couch in her hotel suite sipping her macchiato. We were in Minneapolis for a few days in preparation for two sold out shows Lila was playing at the local arena later this week.
“Let’s review our schedule for today,” I told Lila as I pressed the button to wake up my iPad.
“How did you sleep?” Lila asked. One thing about my boss, she seemed to take an interest in me. She was always checking to make sure I was doing OK and to make sure my needs were met.
When I started working for Lila I had quickly adapted to her rockstar schedule where we were up until three or four in the morning and then slept away the morning hours. I didn’t mind it though, I’d never been much of a morning person anyway.
“I slept well, thank you.”
I didn’t mention that I’d woken up humping the mattress and dreaming about her. Whenever we traveled I would stay in Lila’s suite so I could be available to her whenever she needed
“I’ve been thinking about our break in February,” Lila began.
“You want me to book that place you like on St. Croix?” I asked, assuming that she’d be looking for some place warm and sunny like the rest of the crew.
She shook her head. “No, I want to go to Colorado.”
“Colorado?” I asked curiously.
“Yeah, I want to go to my cabin in the woods for a week. I need to recharge.”
“You have a cabin in Colorado? In the woods?” I asked incredulously. “Is it near a Starbucks?”
Lila laughed. “No, it’s about half an hour from the closest small town where there’s definitely no Starbucks. It’s really isolated and totally off-grid. You’ll love it.”
“Me?”
I was confused. Lila had already told the crew they could have the second week of February off. I hadn’t decided yet whether I wanted to go home to see my family or head up to Seattle to visit my friend.
“I want you to come with me, Christine.”
Lila
Christine’s face was hilarious right now. I couldn’t tell whether she was more surprised that I wanted to stay some place far away from civilization or that I wanted her to come with me.
The truth was, I didn’t actually need Christine to come with me to the cabin for work. I’d never brought any of my previous assistants to the cabin with me, or any other staff members for that matter. No, my request was one hundred percent the result of my pathetic need to keep Christine close. The idea if being separated from her for a week was giving me a physical pain.
I had an intense and wildly inappropriate crush on her. I was probably an idiot for wanting her to come with me. Being isolated in my cabin with Christine would make it harder than it already was to pretend like she was just an employee. Bringing her with me and spending time alone with her was asking for trouble.
Ever since she’d started working for me I’d been fascinated by Christine. I was fascinated by the way she twisted her long brown hair around her finger while she was deep in thought. The way her faded jeans hugged her generous ass and muscular thighs. The way she would bite her plump bottom lip when she was uncomfortable.
I especially liked the way she would look at me over the top of her reading glasses, brown eyes snapping with annoyance, like she was the stern principal, and I was a naughty student. She was hot as hell and as cliched as it sounded, my body burned for her.
In a world where everyone pandered and simpered around me because I was famous, Christine’s willingness to set limits and be real with me was particularly attractive.
I would lie in my bed on the other side of the wall from her and imagine her bossing me around in bed the same way she did for work. In my fantasies she would order me to pinch my nipples while she slid her fingers in and out of my channel bringing me to orgasm, or she would push me down over the desk and smack my ass before she licked my pussy.
God, I was sick, fantasizing about my employee like this. I didn’t even know if she was gay or not.
“You want me to come with you to your cabin in Colorado for a week?” she clarified, as if she thought she’d misheard me.
“Yeah, I figured we’ll get a lot of work done without so many distractions,” I responded. Another lie. I was lying to myself as much as her.
“You do know that Valentine’s Day is that week, right?”
“Do you have a boyfriend you have to get back to? Or girlfriend?” I asked, telling myself I was not prying even while I was. She seemed so conservative and proper, which screamed “straight” but then again, every once in a while when she thought I wasn’t looking I’d look over and see her watching me with a look in her eyes that was pure lust.
“All right, I’ll make our travel arrangements for Colorado,” she answered, purposely avoiding my question. “Is Denver the closest airport?”
I spent the next few weeks in a state of nervous anticipation. Everyone on the crew was looking forward to our break after several long and grueling months on tour. We were all exhausted. I felt kind of bad about insisting that Christine come with me instead of taking a vacation like the rest of the crew, but I figured once we got there I could encourage her to kick back and relax.
We flew into the Denver airport, bodyguards in tow, and rented two SUVs. The plan was for my guys to drive with us to the cabin, then take one of the cars back and go on their own vacation. That way Christine and I would have a vehicle if we decided to go into town for something. When we were ready to leave, the guys would come back and escort us to the airport. It was a pain in the ass worrying about security, but after several scary run-ins with fans early on in my career I knew it was a necessary evil.
My cabin was almost a two hour ride from the airport. Christine and I worked in the backseat while my security chief drove. As we drove up the long gravel road leading to my cabin, Christine finally closed her iPad and looked around curiously.
“This is really out in the middle of nowhere,” she said, a hint of surprise in her tone. “I thought you might be kidding.”
“Nope. I love it out here, it’s totally private. My closest neighbor is over a mile away.”
My cabin came into view, and I looked at it with no small amount of pride. I’d purchased the property with the advance from my first big record contract, then built my place smack dab in the middle of the seven hundred acre parcel. It was a large, wooden A-frame house, almost completely surrounded by woods. Instead of running electrical out here, I’d invested in a top of the line solar power system, supplemented by generators.
My two security guys carried our stuff in and did a sweep of the cabin and vicinity while Christine and I waited in the car. I’d purchased the place through a series of shell companies, so it would be hard to trace the property to me, but we couldn’t be too safe. The guys spent a good twenty minutes scanning for recording devices or intruders, and double checking the security system.
They finally gave us the all-clear and headed off, leaving me and Christine on the porch watching them go. I suddenly felt a bit nervous.
“How about a tour?” I was dying to see what she thought of the place.
I brought her into main room of the cabin. There was a large open concept area with separate sections grouped by function. On one side there was a cozy seating area with an incredibly comfortable couch, loveseat, and two chairs arranged around a large stone hearth, a thick patterned rug on the floor. It was the perfect spot for reading or playing my guitar.
The center of space had a beautiful dining room table, made out of reclaimed wood, and surrounded by four chairs. I didn’t ever plan to do any entertaining out here, so I didn’t need much seating. The caretaker for the property had thoughtfully left a jar full of fresh flowers in the center of the table, adding a spot of color.
On the other side of the dining area was a simple galley kitchen. Christine poked around, opening cabinets, and looking into the refrigerator.
“Looks like they bought out the store,” she said, nodding at the overstuffed refrigerator.
“I wanted to be prepared,” I explained. “We’re supposed to have a pretty good storm while we’re here, so we might not be able to get out for a while.”
Her eyes widened, but she turned away before I could figure out whether my statement had made her nervous or excited. Maybe both.
“The bedrooms are down here,” I said, leading her down the hall. There was a bathroom and a smaller bedroom on one side, a larger bedroom on the other. The guys had already put my stuff into the larger bedroom. Like the rest of the cabin, it was simply decorated.
“Very nice,” Christine said. “Not what I would have expected, but I love it.”
I felt myself flush with pleasure at her approval. What was it about this woman that she had such an effect on me? I craved her approval like a dog looking for a pat on the head.
“What should we do now?” she asked.
“Let’s get comfortable.”
