“I want you in me now,” I demand.
He doesn’t hesitate to do my bidding. Looming over me, his mouth curves into a sexy grin. His lips glisten with my juices. “Your wish is my command,” he murmurs.
Aware of my belly, he leans back on his haunches and kneels in front of me. Opening my legs and settling between them, he pushes his cock into me and we both groan at our mutual relief and satisfaction of our bodies joining.
He slides out in a slow, torturous motion and slips back into me at the same speed, until I’m nearly out of my mind. I lift my hips up.
“Please,” I whimper.
He stretches out over me, keeping his weight in his arms and careful of our baby inside of me.
“I love you, Georgiana,’ he whispers, kissing my hairline, my eyelids, and my cheeks.
“I love you, Sloane. So very much.”
For a moment, he stops moving inside of me and we just stare at each other. Somehow, we found each other and learned about ourselves in the process. But our greatest discovery was the friendship and love we give to each other.
I once was a lost little girl, but Sloane saved me and protected me. We were cast into an inferno and our road to happiness was long and hard, but, oh so worth it. We have each other and our daughter and, soon, I’ll give birth to his son, a fact I wanted to tell him tonight, but I’ll surprise him with on our honeymoon.
As he begins to make love to me again, I caress his jaw and he closes his eyes, kissing my palm.
We’re passionate lovers. We’re best friends. We’re proud parents and happily married. I’m his flame and he’s my anchor. Together, we’re explosive.
We are incendiary.
The End
Inflame:
Phoenix Rising Rock Band, Book III
Inflame
A Phoenix Rising Rock Band Novel
Kathryn Kelly
Copyright ©2017 Kathryn Kelly
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Phoenix Rising Rock Band Logo by Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by Crystal Cuffley
Page Divider Photo by Unknown Author is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND
Cover image Copyright ©2017 Zoey Megahey
Acknowledgments
As usual, I’d like to thank Crystal Cuffley for designing my cover. You are wonderful! I appreciate everyone who has kept in contact with me over the months. Dani and Melanie, you’re always there when I need you. I’d also like to thank Mama Kelly and my girls for their unending moral support.
Dedication
Melissa, thank you for everything, and thanks for motivating me to get this book out.
Zoey, I love you very much. Thanks for being my cover model.
Blurb
Kiln Mason is Chief Personal Protection Officer for the world-famous Phoenix Rising Rock Band. Having two months of down time, he gives in to the inner demons plaguing him and decides to seek revenge on the band’s lead singer.
After attending a meeting to plan his attack, Kiln meets Raine, a girl down on her luck and living on the streets. Raine comes with more baggage than airline luggage compartments.
When he walks away from her the night they meet, he believes he’ll never see her again. However, Raine needs money to save her brother’s life. For her, Kiln is the answer to her prayers and she sets out to find Kiln.
She does, and convinces him to give her the money for her brother’s safe return. However, when she goes to deliver the cash, all they find are pools of blood.
Despite Kiln’s belief that all women are deceptive, he is, nevertheless, pulled into Raine’s intrigue, while still planning Sloane Mason’s death. As Raine searches for her brother’s body and Kiln wrestles with his conscience, he knows he has to tread carefully. He asked the Death Dwellers MC for the hitman to do his dirty work. He merely neglected to mention one of their friends is the target.
The death of Raine’s brother devastates her. He was her protector and partner in crime. Kiln once again offers to help her, but she has to agree to become his mistress until he leaves town.
He doesn’t do relationships. She doesn’t think she’s destined for one. Their strong opinions are a source of constant conflict. Will Kiln carry out his murder plot or will the motorcycle club discover his intentions and retaliate? Can Raine trust him enough to let her guard down? Where will their separate agendas lead them? Down different roads or to a future with everlasting love and happiness?
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Blurb
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
Playlist
Connect with Kat
Chapter One
The first book in the Old Testament reveals the sons of Adam and Eve humanized us. Cain was the first human born; Abel was the first one to die. Cain committed the first act of violence, when he murdered Abel. Brother spilled the blood of brother.
I’ve been told that, in the lost books of the bible, it is claimed Cain was the seed of Satan, while Abel was begotten by Adam. All facts interpreted by regular men centuries after it all took place.
I’m not a religious or spiritual man, by any stretch of the imagination. My life is sordid, fast, filled with betrayal. Bitterness. Hatred. Comparisons between myself and my brother, and Cain and Abel, are inescapable.
Cain and Abel.
Kiln and Sloane.
The parallelization of Sloane and I to biblical figures might be sinful. Not that I care. I’ve committed far worst grievances, broken commandments not listed on those stone tablets from Mount Ararat.
Right now, as I sit across from Sloane in the back of a limousine, his mouth moves, speaking words lost to my wandering mind. According to our father, Sloane is the good one, the good son.
I’m not worth the cum used to make me.
“Kiln?”
Sloane is my Abel. My rival. The Chosen One.
He’s a thorn in my side and a pain in my fucking ass. Try as I might, the resentment I feel toward him, constantly rears its ugly head.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asks. “I can purchase a ticket for you for the next available
flight and you can meet up with me and Georgie on the island.”
I listen to my brother, Sloane Mason, the world-famous sex symbol and rock star, as he offers to pay my way for the vacation he’s taking with his wife and kids. Georgiana, his son, and daughter, left a week ago and are already out of the public’s eye on the South Pacific private island Sloane purchased for her.
My divine rationalizations burst like a bubble at a bigger question.
Why the fuck did Georgiana need a private island? Why Sloane had to purchase it is an even bigger mystery. She has her own money. She doesn’t need his.
Sloane and I had gotten to a place in our relationship where we could act like brothers and friends. Although he still doesn’t publicly acknowledge me as his blood relative, nor does he allow me on the second floor of his Denver mansion, we were at peace.
“Kiln?” he calls at my silence.
Distaste fills my mouth and I fold my arms. Until he’s safely on the plane, I’m on duty as his personal protection officer. Afterwards, I’ll have two months to…do nothing. My jaw clenches and I glance out of the limo’s window, resentful of my resentment. The outside world flies by as we race to Denver International Airport.
“Do you want to join us or not?” Sloane’s irritated voice grabs my attention.
We stare at each other and bounce as Sloane’s driver hits a bump in the road.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I respond with as much friendliness as I can muster. “The isolation would drive me insane. Besides, it would just remind me of all the money you spent for an island. A fucking land mass. All because Georgiana asked for it and you can’t say no to her.”
Sloane growls. “If I wanted to buy my wife a fucking country, it’s my business and my money. Get over it. What I do for Georgie is between she and I. But, for the record, she didn’t ask me for the fucking land mass. I bought it for her because I wanted her to have it.”
“That’s even more pathetic.”
Anger darkens his eyes. He looks ready to lunge at me.
Brow lifted, I dare him with a look. He challenges me another second, until I decide to relent. I’m not in the mood to beat his ass today, even if, in my mind, he’s asking for it. The realization makes me wish we were in the Escalade, where I would’ve sat upfront with the driver.
“If you end up broke, she’ll be the reason.”
“Don’t you mean if you end up broke?”
His voice is cold, but I don’t give a fuck. Instead of answering, I try to focus my thoughts on my mother, whom I intend to visit after I see Sloane off. I ask myself if I want pussy tonight or a quiet evening in. However, I don’t care. I can’t turn my mind away from the way Sloane spoils his wife. I can’t get past the fact that he bought Georgiana an island.
A goddamn island.
“Your problem isn’t about Georgie’s land,” he continues. “It’s about the fact that you don’t have a woman to spoil.”
His psychoanalysis pisses me off. Furthermore, his words are a low fucking blow, considering the reason I’m no longer married. “If you would’ve kept your cock in your pants, I would have a woman to spoil. I know better now, so I don’t want one. Women are scheming gold diggers. They pitch pussy around to the man who they’ll get the most from.”
Sloane grits his teeth and heaves in a breath. “We’ve been here and done this, Kiln. We buried the hatchet, so let’s stop here before one of us says something that will throw us back into hell again.”
“You’re right,” I say quietly. However, I’m stubborn if nothing else. Sloane has made a recent announcement that defies the logic of his island purchase. “You’ve cut back on staff because you want to save money, since you’re not touring as much anymore thanks to your family. Georgiana knows you’re cutting back on expenses. She could’ve told you no.”
“Kiln, I’m telling you for the last fucking time. Leave Georgiana the fuck alone. By the way, I rescind my offer to buy you a plane ticket. I’d fucking kill you and bury your miserable body if you fucked with Georgie.”
Everything always goes back to Georgiana. He can’t take a shit without her permission. More than likely, Sloane’s last minute invitation to me was her idea. “You’re the boss, little brother, so I can do nothing about you canceling your oh-so-gracious offer. I don’t want to spend time on a fucking island that I think was unnecessary in the first place. I’ve never seen it and I never intend to.
That isn’t my argument anyway. The money you spent is. You know exactly what the hell I’m talking about.”
I’m angry that he’s so stupid. My past actions towards Georgiana have been appalling and we’ve reached a point where we can tease and joke with each other. But, enough is enough. She’s young, just twenty-one, and has been with Sloane since she was sixteen. To me, the writing’s on the wall.
Few marriages last. I’m trying to save Sloane not only the emotional heartache but financial ruin, too. Georgie has changed a lot in the five years I’ve known her. She says she loves Sloane with all of her heart and she wants another baby, but what happens in ten years? She’ll be thirty-one and Sloane forty. What then?
What if his cock is dead from overuse? I’ll bet everything she’d find a lover.
What if a “rock legend” is a “rock has been”? Part of Georgiana’s adulation of Sloane is his music and superstar power. Long before she became his lover and wife, she was his fan.
I think she’s amassing assets in her name for a reason. Again, she could’ve stopped him from making this insane purchase.
The car jerks to a stop and I hop out first, holding the door open for my world-famous brother. Soon, we’re walking through the terminal and people, mainly women, are screaming his name. Some yell for me. I hide my grin and nod when I hear my name, even though my poker face remains in place. No matter how much they adore Sloane, or me, John Q. Public knows to stay back from my charge.
We haven’t said a word to each other in almost ten minutes. Before he goes through security, he walks to a row of chairs and sit. Opening the backpack he carries, he pulls out his baseball cap and places it on his head. Usually, he wears the bill backwards. Now, it’s forward facing and he adds a pair of sunglasses.
All this shit because he allowed Georgiana to take his private plane, leaving him to fly commercial. Always catering to his wife, Sloane couldn’t even allow his pilot to return for him. No, he insisted the man stay on the island, and keep the plane on standby in case Georgiana had an emergency that called for travel.
I remain standing and stay hawk-eyed.
When he gets to his feet and puts his bag on his shoulder, he holds out his hand. “I’m not going to see you for two months, asshole. I’ll be disconnected from the world. I don’t want to leave on a sour note.”
I grab his hand and smile. “Disconnected, hmm? Who knows? I might sneak up on the second floor and finally solve the mystery.”
He snatches his hand away. “You’ve been up there before.”
“That doesn’t count,” I scoff. “I was up there to look for intruders. I didn’t have time to stop and browse.”
His eyes narrow. “On second thought, I might have to find a way to have alarm notifications sent to me, without being hooked to the camera. Remember that before you make your decision. If you get upstairs, I’m fucking you up.”
“I live in that house. It belongs to me, too.”
“You think, asshole? The deed is in my and Georgie’s name. You’re a boarder since you’re too stingy to buy your own place. We can throw you the fuck out at any time.”
“Is that the way you see my living with you? As just another way to have power over me? I don’t. I’m there 24/7 to do a job. Protecting you and your family.”
Rubbing his eyes, Sloane sighs and his annoyance disappears. “You’re good at what you do, Kiln. You’re invaluable as a bodyguard and as a brother. However, if you fuck with my wife, that goes out the window. I’m no longer a brother who admires and appreciates you. I’m a brother who will k
ill you.”
“A brother? Don’t you mean you’re my boss and landlord? Not sometimes either, but all the time. If you were my brother, you’d take my advice.”
“My marriage. My money. My wife. My life. I make my own decisions. Soon, I’ll be set for generations to come, so money is the last thing I have to worry about.”
I grunt, but my curiosity is piqued. “What? Is Dad on his death bed?”
My feelings on that are ambiguous. On the one hand, we’ll inherit billions and Rand Mason will be gone. On the other hand, he’s my father.
Sloane shrugs. “Maybe, he is. Who knows? Who cares?”
“You’d know,” I remind him. “You keep up with him.”
“A necessary evil.”
True. Dad’s a psychopath.
“You’d know if he were dying,” I remind him, still wondering why Sloane soon won’t have to worry about money. “What are you doing now?”
He’s invested in several ventures, including a business owned by his wife’s brother.
“I’ve just signed off on a major deal. It’ll have my children and their grandchildren set for life.”
He grins at me. “If Rand Mason was near death, I’d jump for joy. Fuck him. About you going upstairs…”
“I was joking,” I bite out, irritated he’s throwing crumbs at me, instead of telling me what the hell’s up. “I know my boundaries.”
“If I get a notification that the second-floor alarm has gone off—”
“What if you do? A month ago, the thing malfunctioned and started screaming.” It was the most fucked up noise I’d ever heard. It sounded like a World War 2 bombing was imminent, then morphed into a police siren, and ended on whistling, before repeating the cycle.
He sighs, then claps my shoulder. “I’m trusting you. If you say you’re not going to go upstairs, then I believe you.”
Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series Page 76