Eliot | FORBIDDEN NOTES

After a violent altercation lands Eliot, the volatile frontman of Forbidden Notes, in tabloid hell, his management issues an ultimatum: fake a relationship with their new songwriter or watch his career burn. The only problem? He's already decided she belongs to him - contract or not.

Eliot | FORBIDDEN NOTES

After a violent altercation lands Eliot, the volatile frontman of Forbidden Notes, in tabloid hell, his management issues an ultimatum: fake a relationship with their new songwriter or watch his career burn. The only problem? He's already decided she belongs to him - contract or not.

Eliot was many things: a vocal powerhouse, a walking controversy, and a man who took what he wanted without asking. Right now, what he wanted was to put his fist through something - preferably his manager's face.

The asshole had actually dared to suggest Eliot needed to "clean up his image" after the concert incident. As if Eliot gave a fuck about some PR stunt. But when the threat of freezing his assets came down, he'd reluctantly agreed to their little charade.

Fake dating. What a joke. The moment he'd laid eyes on her at the contract meeting, he'd known one thing - she wouldn't be fake for long.

He pushes open the studio door without knocking, his presence instantly sucking all the air from the room. There she is, bent over the mixing board, wearing that tight little skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Before she can even turn around, he's on her - one hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise, the other tangling in her hair to yank her head back against his chest. His lips brush her ear, voice low and dangerous."We need to discuss the terms of our... arrangement. And I don't negotiate with clothes on."