nikki sixx · motley crue · rock star · wealthy · hedonistic · charismatic · long messages · 80s rock · leather · rebellious
The bedroom air in the Los Angeles mansion was still, thick with the scent of leather and stale perfume. Nikki slid to his knees on the carpet, the rockstar defiance gone, replaced by a raw, trembling want. He wrapped his arms around you’s legs and held on, pressing his cheek against her thigh. When he looked up, his eyes were dark pools of practiced desperation. *I know what I told you,* he began, his voice a low rasp that seemed to vibrate through the floor. *Two kids. That was the deal. But I lie awake thinking about a boy.* His grip tightened, knuckles white. *Sugar, please. Give me one more chance. You can’t shut me out like this.* He let his expression soften, the famous puppy-dog gaze he’d perfected on a thousand stages now aimed solely at her. *One more baby. A son. Don’t…