After Hours Redemption (404 Sound)

by Kianna Alexander

  Their red-hot reunion

  is off the charts!

  They made passionate music together.

  Has this heartbreaker changed his tune?

  Songwriter Eden Voss had the perfect man—sexy, charming, talented and hers. Until record executive Blaine Woodson broke her heart to save his fledging label. Now music’s bad boy is back, begging for her songwriting skills in his studio...and her lovemaking skills after hours. Eden vows to keep things strictly business this time. But there is nothing professional about the heat still between them...

  “You scared, Blaine?”

  She faked a pout, sticking her lip out as she teased him. “Of little old me?”

  He rolled his eyes, but his smile was evident as he joined her on the blanket. “You’re too much, Eden.”

  “So, we’re basically alone now.” Or at least as close to alone as we’re gonna get without me crawling into your lap. She watched him, taking in his moon-dappled handsomeness. The dim lighting seemed to enhance his features, especially the golden flecks in his dark eyes. He was a temptation in the flesh; her body craved him even though her mind knew better than to get lost in him again. The question was, how much longer would she be able to lead with logic? “What do you want to talk about?”

  He cleared his throat. “If I’m being honest...”

  “Please do,” she encouraged.

  “I want to talk about kissing you again.”

  * * *

  After Hours Redemption by Kianna Alexander

  is part of the 404 Sound series.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for picking up a copy of After Hours Redemption. My purpose in writing this story, and the larger series, is to share my love of hip-hop with you. It was the soundtrack to my formative years and will always hold a place in my heart. What better way to share the love than with a steamy romance? Blaine and Eden’s story will take you into the glamorous fast-paced world of the Atlanta music scene, where dreams of stardom can become reality. What a backdrop to fall in love against, huh?

  Happy reading!

  Kianna

  Kianna Alexander

  After Hours Redemption

  Kianna Alexander, like any good Southern belle, wears many hats: loving wife, doting mama, advice-dispensing sister and gabbing girlfriend. She’s a voracious reader, an amateur seamstress and occasional painter in oils. Chocolate, American history, sweet tea and Idris Elba are a few of her favorite things. A native of the Tar Heel state, Kianna still lives there with her husband, two kids and a collection of well-loved vintage ’80s Barbie dolls. You can keep up with Kianna’s releases and appearances by signing up for her mailing list at www.authorkiannaalexander.com/sign-up.

  Books by Kianna Alexander

  Harlequin Desire

  404 Sound

  After Hours Redemption

  Harlequin Kimani Romance

  This Tender Melody

  Every Beat of My Heart

  A Sultry Love Song

  Tempo of Love

  Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or www.authorkiannaalexander.com, for more titles.

  You can also find Kianna Alexander on Facebook, along with other Harlequin Desire authors, at www.Facebook.com/harlequindesireauthors!

  For Tameya. It was written in the stars.

  My humblest thanks to my writing buddy Kaia for the intel and the encouragement. I’d also like to thank my Destin Divas, who are a constant source of inspiration and always give me the extra push when I need it. Thanks to the readers who continually support my work—I truly appreciate y’all. And thanks to the producers, the songwriters, the artists, the sound engineers—all those people who make it possible for us all to enjoy so much great music.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Billionaire Behind the Mask by Andrea Laurence

  Excerpt from Scandalous Secrets by Synithia Williams

  One

  First, I didn’t get a contract. Now I’m stuck driving home in a monsoon.

  Peering through the water streaming down the windshield, Eden Voss kept an eye out for the turn going into her southwest Atlanta neighborhood. Typical of any Tuesday night, city traffic had been akin to driving in a demolition derby, and the rain only exacerbated that. The farther she got away from the city proper, the more she relaxed. She’d just spent three hours sitting in a smoky hookah lounge in Midtown with a producer and his newest act, discussing whether her songwriting might be a good fit for them. If the young artist had been as decisive as he’d been flirtatious, the meeting might have actually led to something concrete.

  She wondered what she would have been like if her dreams of singing stardom had come true. Those ambitions were long ago laid to rest. However, she knew that if she had made it, she wouldn’t have been so disrespectful as to ogle another industry professional, especially during what was supposed to be a business meeting.

  Eden pushed those thoughts away, concentrating instead on making it home intact. Even with the wipers going full blast, visibility was limited at best. Carefully navigating the streets of her subdivision, she turned into her driveway just as another bright flash of lightning illuminated the sky. She shook her head, grateful she’d bought a house with a garage. After she’d pulled inside it and closed the shutter on the storm raging outside, she wrinkled her nose at the lingering smoke clinging to her clothes.

  Moments later, she unlocked the side door and entered the house through the kitchen. She could see the glow of the television as she approached the living room. A smile curved her lips. She waited up for me...again. Her older cousin and roommate had a protective streak that still lingered from when they were kids.

  She kicked off her shoes and padded into the room. “Ainsley, you didn’t have to wait up.”

  Her cousin was stretched out on the couch, tucked beneath her favorite oversize throw emblazoned with the cover of OutKast’s classic album ATLiens. “I know, I know. But I was already watching a Law & Order marathon.”

  She chuckled, seeing the familiar program on the TV. “Okay, Mom. Coop’s upstairs asleep?”

  Ainsley nodded. “You know my son. He treasures his sleep above all else.” At ten years old, sleep and Minecraft were Cooper’s two favorite pastimes. She shifted around a bit until she sat up. “How did the meeting go?”

  Thinking back on the meeting made her cringe. “Girl, I don’t even know. The producer seemed into it, but I think the singer paid more attention to my boobs than my pitch.”

  “Oh, what a creep. Is this a singer I know?”

  “Levi Duncan. Newer artist, supposedly the second coming of Usher.”

  Ainsley’s brow cocked. “Second coming? Please. Usher’s had like ten ‘second comings,’ plus he’s still around. These R & B dudes now are a dime a dozen. Very few stand out.”

  “You’re right about that. Have you ever heard of him?”

  “Nah.”
Ainsley shook her head. “Sounds like a real character. If that’s how he acts, he’ll fit right in with the rest of the jerks in the music industry.”

  She felt her lips stretch into a thin line as the memories of those days rose within. Late nights in the studio, poring over the lyric sheets with Blaine Woodson. The man who’d crushed all her hopes and dreams. She could still smell his woodsy cologne. Handsome, talented...and duplicitous. He’d brought her into the music business, along with Ainsley and their friend Cambria. He’d praised their talents, filled their heads with fantasies of what could be.

  She’d fallen for his words, and in the process, fallen in love. But when the time came for him to really show he believed in her, he’d disappointed her in the worst way.

  “Scoot over.” Eden flopped down on the sofa next to her cousin. “Anything interesting happen at the studio today?”

  “I heard one of the newer artists in the booth today, laying down backing vocals. Brought back memories, ya know?”

  Eden laughed. “I bet.” She leaned in close, even though there was no one else in the room, her tone conspiratorial. “I heard a rumor that T.I. was coming by. Did he?”

  Looking amused, she shook her head. “No. Somebody from his label was there, but no action in the booth just yet.”

  “Well, keep me posted. When he’s there, I might just have to drop by and bring you lunch.”

  Ainsley laughed. “You’re a mess. But I’ll let you know if I spot the Rubber Band Man.”

  She fist-bumped her. “My homegirl.”

  A brilliant flash illuminated the room, followed by a loud crack of thunder reverberating through the house.

  Ainsley cast a wary eye toward the window. “It’s a mess out there.”

  A memory popped into her mind then, and she asked, “Remember how Mom and Aunt Mimi would call it ‘good sleeping weather’?”

  “I remember.” Ainsley’s expression took on a wistful tone. “I miss them.”

  She squeezed her cousin’s shoulder. “Me, too.” It had been three years since the bus accident had claimed the lives of their mothers, who’d been traveling together for a church trip. Eden felt the tug in her chest, the same tug she felt whenever she thought of how much she missed her mother and her favorite aunt. Their deaths had forged an even closer bond between her and Ainsley. Eden yawned. “I’m beat, Ains. I’m going up to bed.”

  “I’ll be up after this episode.”

  She extricated herself from the soft cushions and headed toward the foyer.

  More lightning flashed, and before she could reach the staircase, another wall-rattling boom of thunder swept through the house.

  This time, a huge, splintering crash followed.

  Eden’s head jerked toward the upper floor of the house, where it seemed the sound had come from.

  What the hell was that?

  “Mom!” Cooper screamed from his upstairs bedroom in the far corner of the house. “Help!”

  Oh no.

  Ainsley jumped up from the couch, and she and Eden raced up the stairs, their hearts pounding.

  * * *

  “We’re excited to welcome your newest artist, Blaine.”

  The voice of Rupert Wright, A&R director for Hamilton House Records, broke through Blaine Woodson’s thoughts. Damn. I should’ve had that second cup of coffee. It was just before ten Wednesday morning, and he had some serious midweek doldrums going on. Straightening in his stiff-backed chair at the conference table, he smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, Rupert. I think it’s going to be an amazing partnership.”

  “Wonderful.” Rupert redirected his attention. “And Miss Brown, let me be the first to welcome you to the Hamilton House family.”

  “Thanks. And you can call me Naiya.” Twenty-three-year-old singer Naiya B. sat next to Blaine in a matching chair. Her gaze shifted around the room as if she were studying the wall displays. “I see you’ve got quite a few plaques under your belt.”

  Blaine gave Naiya’s shoulder a quick pat. “And soon your platinum plaque will be up there with the rest.” Her viral videos, featuring her singing covers of classic songs by the likes of Phyllis, Whitney and Toni, had first attracted Blaine’s attention two months ago. She possessed a stunning vocal talent. He’d reached out to her, and she’d signed to his boutique label, Against the Grain Records. His subsidiary status under AMGI/Hamilton House provided most of his operating budget.

  Naiya’s warm smile conveyed her delight. “I’m really excited about all this. I have so much I want to say, and I appreciate this chance to express myself.”

  Seeing that sparkle in her eyes, Blaine couldn’t help smiling. She reminded him of someone else. A curly-haired young woman with cocoa eyes lit up like the Vegas Strip. Sharp, witty, beautiful and wildly talented. Eden Voss. She’d been a part of the very first group signed to his label, and he’d shared a unique connection with her. But their chemistry extended far beyond music. He’d let her go in order to grow his label. It had been less than ideal, but Hamilton House held the purse strings, and he’d had to follow their edicts.

  Rupert’s bushy gray brows furrowed slightly. “What’s your vision for your first album, Naiya?”

  She brightened and gave a brief account of her plans. She wanted to sing about love and breakup, and the hardships faced by those in her Capitol View neighborhood.

  “Hmm.” Rupert appeared taken aback.

  Blaine felt a twinge as he watched the light go out of Naiya’s eyes. “I’m sure Naiya isn’t planning to go on a diatribe on wax, right?”

  She shook her head. “No, it was nothing like that.”

  Blaine let his eyes dart from Rupert to Naiya. I hope she knows I’ll fight for her to be able to say what she wants to say. He hadn’t fought for Eden back then, and regret had been his constant companion. Fate had seen fit to give him a second chance, perhaps one he didn’t even deserve, by sending Naiya his way. I won’t make the same mistake again.

  “Believe me, I understand. We all have things dear to our hearts.” Rupert leaned over his desk. “But in this business, it’s best not to burn bridges before we’ve started the journey.”

  Naiya’s voice was quiet. “I understand.”

  “I’m sure we’ll come to a compromise, Rupert. Naiya and I will work with a songwriter to bring out the nuance of her message without getting too controversial.”

  As Naiya and Rupert walked toward the door, Blaine stood.

  Rupert held up his hand. “Hang tight. Marvin wants to speak with you. You can meet Naiya and me in the lobby afterward.”

  “Sure thing.” He watched the two of them disappear into the marbled corridor, wondering what Marvin wanted to talk to him about. As label liaison, Marvin Samuels stayed in frequent contact with him, and Blaine assumed it was that way for all the smaller labels under Hamilton House’s umbrella.

  Thinking back on his promise to Rupert to get the right songwriter for Naiya’s album, he realized he’d not been completely honest. He’d said he had several songwriters in mind, but in reality, there was only one name rolling around in his mind.

  Eden Voss.

  She’d been dominating his thoughts, and not just because of his fascination with her. Eden was as brilliant a songwriter as Naiya was a vocalist, having written a few charting R & B and hip-hop songs. He’d followed her career closely, because he and Eden had a history—although not one he was entirely proud of.

  Years ago, Eden and the members of her girl group had been on the brink of stardom, and he’d been guiding their career. He’d genuinely liked and respected all three young women, though what he’d had with Eden had been different. Special. Their creative synergy had been nothing short of magic. But their attraction to each other had been even more captivating. His heart had opened to her in a way it hadn’t to any other woman, before or since.

  I ruined their group. But worse than th
at, I hurt Eden.

  Eden had reminded him of his father, set in his ways, immovable in his opinions of the way things “ought to be.” His father’s rigidity was the main reason Against the Grain existed. Blaine was the second of Caleb and Addison Woodson’s five children, the odd one out. He was the goof-off, the one who could never live up to his father’s legend or his elder sister’s obedient perfection. So rather than join up with the family business at 404 Sound Recordings, one of Atlanta’s oldest and most successful recording studios, he’d struck out on his own to form a small label.

  He’d made a selfish choice, driven by his need to be independent of his father. His choice had altered all their futures. Cambria had gone on to solo stardom, but that wasn’t the case for Eden or her cousin Ainsley.

  Marvin entered, dressed in his usual black slacks and dark blue button-down shirt with the record company logo on the front. “Morning, Blaine. Good to see you again.”

  “Always a pleasure, Marvin. So, Rupert said you wanted to speak to me.” Whatever was up, Blaine wanted to get right to the point so he and Naiya could make their flight back to Atlanta after lunch.

  Marvin slipped into the chair next to him. “Right. I wanted to congratulate you. I think Naiya is a great fit for the label.”

  “I appreciate that.” Okay, so why are we really here?

  “While we’re pleased to have Naiya on board, we also have very high expectations for this album. It’s been over a year since you’ve had a top-selling album.”

  He held back his sigh. The ever-changing nature of the music business forced him to keep up with the tastes of a very fickle audience. Sometimes it felt like trying to take down a buck with foam darts. “We had a lull, but things are coming around again.”

  “I hope you’re right. AMGI is making cutbacks, and the first things to go in times like these are underperforming subsidiaries.”

  The temperature in the room seemed to climb, and Blaine loosened his tie. “Is that where things stand, Marvin?”