Naked Love

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  “I didn’t like waking up alone. I was sleepy, and sticky from all the ice cream.” I narrowed my eyes, as I pulled aside my top to display my shoulder. “You even gave me a hickey!”

  Max examined the spot and grinned, no apology anywhere on his face. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not.” He leaned over, placing a kiss on my bruise and then moved up my neck to whisper in my ear, “But we both know that if I’d woken you, I would’ve been late to work.”

  I bit my lip, stifling a moan as his thumb brushed against my nipple through my shirt.

  Max kissed my mouth lightly. “Besides, I left a note and I called you.”

  Oh, yes, he’d called.

  And sent text messages.

  The texts were funny, sweet, and so sexy that I’d walked around overheated and distracted—much to the amusement of Bridget and the band and to the annoyance of Ron. But damn, it felt so good to be flirting, making a guy crazy for me, anticipating the next time we could be together. I felt like a normal woman for the first time in a long time. And it felt really good.

  Max kept kissing me. Nothing heavy or intense, just a leisurely tracing along my neck, my shoulders, his mouth traveling down to caress the tops of my breasts. It was sexy and romantic and I regretted missing high school if this is what happened during study hall.

  “Did you get any work done last night?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of keeping you from your work.”

  I laughed. “Oh no, we wouldn’t want that.” Needing to touch him, I traced my lips along his strong jaw. “Lucas and I wrote until one a.m. It was amazing. I had no idea what a few orgasms could do for my creativity.”

  “Well, I guess I could be persuaded to continue giving them to you.” His eyes twinkled with good humor. “Anything I can do to help you pull off the ‘must see concert event’ of the summer.”

  I paused, pulling back a fraction to get a look at him. I raised an eyebrow. “I see someone has been reading at the grocery store checkout.”

  He shrugged, the dimple on his right cheek drawing my attention for a second. The dark stubble on his jaw, the inviting fullness of his lips—they were all too distracting. “It was a long line.”

  The tips of his ears flushed pink and I realized he was embarrassed. It was so freaking hot, I itched to strip off his clothes and see if he’d turned red all over.

  I reached out and stroked his cheek. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to believe what you read in those magazines?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what I can believe?” He captured my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm and then held it against his chest. “It said your tour is called ‘Beauty and the Beasts’ and you’re on the road with Mac Daniels and Tyler Grant. Mac drives a Harley and looks like a member of Hell’s Angels and Tyler is a pretty–cowboy wannabe.”

  I laughed. “A pretty–cowboy wannabe?” Tyler wouldn’t like that.

  “It also said you two were lovers once.”

  I nodded.

  Max looked down to our intertwined hands, continuing in a subdued tone, “And the rumor is that you will be,” he made a couple of air–quotes, “rekindling the romance on this tour.”

  Wow. He really did read the magazines. I leaned down a little to look him in the eye. “Like I said, you can’t believe everything you read in the magazines.”

  He watched me, his eyes searching mine before he leaned in and kissed me softly. “Good to know. I don’t want to be getting in the middle of something.”

  I brushed my hands over his shoulders, enjoying the play of his muscles underneath his T–shirt. “If I were ‘in the middle of something’, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

  Shortly after my break–up with Jake and while I was in what I now knew was a manic episode, I’d been lovers with Tyler for a short time. He was the rebound guy—a poor choice on my part—and I’d broken it off. Touring with him wasn’t a problem for me, except for the fact that Tyler had never made it a secret that he was open to trying again—to me or the press—and I’d been portrayed as the callous woman who’d broken his heart.

  What a load of crap. I’d pegged Tyler early and still stuck to my assessment. He knew that a relationship between us would help his career get to the next level. Country music fans loved a good love story between their stars—June and Johnny, Faith and Tim, George and Tammy—the list was legendary. He was hoping to add our names to the list.

  I’d been encouraged by Ron to give it a go when I left rehab, but it was a non–starter for me. Unfortunately for Tyler, he wasn’t the one who was distracting me to the extent that I flubbed lyrics I knew like the back of my hand.

  I kissed Max and leaned back. “What about you? I’m not getting in the middle of something, am I?”

  Max barked out a short laugh. “That would be a ‘hell no’.”

  “That sounded pretty definite.”

  “A guy has to know his limitations.” He shrugged. “We covered this the other night.”

  I watched him shut down right before my eyes. Max was pretty open, but the subtle shift in his shoulders communicated as loudly as a neon sign that he wasn’t going to talk about it anymore. That was fine. We weren’t about having a relationship, so he didn’t owe me any explanation.

  “So, how much time do you think we have in here before you have to get back to work?” he asked.

  “Well, I told the band to ‘take five’ and that’s really just a figure of speech, so... Oh!” I arched my neck as Max leaned in and nuzzled the sweet spot behind my ear, his lips soft and his breath warm. I needed to get back, but a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt anybody. “So... I guess we have some time... not long though... I’ll be missed.”

  “Then we better make the most of it.”

  Max cupped my face with his large hands and I lost all thoughts of rehearsal, reporters, and my job as he claimed my mouth. He kissed me over and over again and made me breathless and achy. I knew what he could do to my body and I just wanted to get back here as soon as possible.

  I was so lost in the taste and feel of him, that I entirely missed the voices outside the closet door until it was too late. We broke apart, blinking at the sudden onslaught of light that flooded the dimly lit space. Ron stood in the doorway, and he didn’t look happy with me. I knew the look because I’d seen it a lot lately.

  It brought me crashing back to earth and reality. It was not a soft landing.

  Max uttered a quick, “What the hell?” and shifted to shield me from Ron, but I knew the gig was up. Adjusting my clothes, I eased down to the floor and braced myself for the fight I knew was coming.

  “Kit! What the hell are you doing in here?” I winced at the outrage and disbelief in every word. “We have a rehearsal hall full of musicians, reporters, and countless other people here on the clock and you’re in here making out like some teenager. I know you’re going through some sort of mid–twenties life crisis.” He waved his hands in the general direction of Max. “But can you at least keep your panties on long enough to do what needs to be done?”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  My face flushed hot with embarrassment as I imagined what this must look like to him. The evidence of my selfish and unprofessional behavior was hard to ignore—my clothes were in disarray, lips swollen. I’d taken one look at Max’s sexy bod and blown off my responsibilities. This was not the game plan. Max was the after–hours playtime, not the afternoon delight.

  Before I could speak, Max advanced on Ron and when he spoke it was with serious menace. “You better watch your mouth when you talk to her. I don’t know who you think you are but—”

  Not easily intimidated, Ron cut him off. “I’m the one who’s here to keep her career afloat,” he sneered. “What are you doing here? Getting your rocks off with a celebrity so you can brag to your friends? Or sell it to some tabloid?”

  Max’s hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight as he stepped closer to tower over Ron. “Why don’t w
e take this outside and you can say that again right before I knock...”

  Okay, that was enough. I didn’t know what the hell was going on between these two but I didn’t need this crap right now.

  Stepping between the two of them, I pushed them apart. “Are you both out of your mind? You are not going to ‘take this outside’ and beat each other to a bloody pulp.” I turned and pointed a finger at Ron. “As you pointed out, we have reporters here today and the last thing we need is to give them a front row seat to a front–page headline that will piss off the label. Am I clear?” I eyeballed them both until they nodded in agreement.

  Max grabbed my arm and turned me to look at him. His voice was hard and edged with frustration, “Kit, you can’t let him talk to you that way. He deserves to get his ass beaten.”

  “And you think you’re going to be the one to do it?” Ron jeered and Max advanced on him again while growling something about “teaching him a lesson about talking to a woman like that”.

  I shoved Max back and rounded on him. “Max, zip it. While I appreciate your help, this is none of your business—so, back the hell off.”

  Ouch. I hadn’t said that the right way, but it got my point across.

  Max flinched, his face turning to angry stone. “Fine. You want to let him talk to you like you’re dirt, you go ahead.” He backed up and lifted his hands in a dismissive gesture. “I’m outta here.”

  Damn. My heart squeezed in my chest as I watched Max stalk off, his back and shoulders rigid with anger. I wanted to go after him, but I had to take care of things here first. As Ron had pointed out, I did have a rehearsal hall full of people waiting on me and I needed to keep my head in the game. Once again, my personal life had to wait.

  But it didn’t mean Ron was going to get away with acting like a total ass.

  I turned to look at Ron and I didn’t hold back anything I was feeling. I was going for the Wonder Woman/Xena Warrior Princess vibe but it probably looked more like “woman on the edge”. Either way, it did the trick. The smug look slowly melted off his face.

  “Ron, if you ever speak to me like that again, I will fire you. Tour or no tour, I will drop–kick your ass on to the street so fast it’ll be next week before you realize what happened.” He opened his mouth to sputter out some excuse and I nipped it in the bud. I clearly needed to establish some boundaries. “My personal life—who I do or do not sleep with—is none of your business as long as I keep it private. Don’t ever think you can pull that kind of crap with me again. Am I clear?”

  He kept his mouth shut and just nodded his agreement. Smart boy.

  I turned my back on him, walked out of the closet, and made my way back to the rehearsal area to finish my job.

  Once that was done, I could find Max and make it right with him.

  13

  Max

  “Kit’s manager is a real asshole.”

  Bridget’s eyes widened as her head swiveled in my direction, and I would have laughed if any part of what just went down was even remotely funny. I looked over to where Kit had reentered the rehearsal hall with flushed cheeks and a murderous expression on her face. Ron slumped out behind her and touched her arm to try to get her attention, but Kit shot him a lethal glare and gave him her back.

  Good. She was pissed off at that jerk.

  And she looked so hot when she was pissed.

  I had lost my mind. One minute I was angry enough at Kit to chew nails and then—poof—turned–on to the point where I wished I had a pillow to throw on my lap. God, this woman tied me in knots.

  I really needed to get out of here.

  I groaned and slid down onto the couch next to Bridget. I stared at the ceiling, breathing deep and trying to get my crazy emotions under control. I’d done what I always did, jumped in and gone immediately to solving the problem by slamming my fist into someone’s face. I hadn’t done it this time but I’d been damn close.

  Bridget tapped me on the arm, her voice anxious. “What the hell happened? I thought you and Kit were off playing ‘seven minutes in heaven’ in the closet.”

  I lowered my gaze from the ceiling and noted the concern etched in Bridget’s face, despite the sarcastic humor in her question. Jesus.

  “We were in the closet doing... stuff... when Ron walked in and started whaling on Kit to get back to work.” I ground my teeth together, my anger still fresh when I recalled the way he’d spoken to her. “Then he insulted her and I lost my cool and threatened him.”

  “You did what?” Bridget stared at me with her mouth hanging open. “What did he do?”

  “He got in my face and we were getting ready to take it outside...”

  “You didn’t hit him, did you?”

  “No. Kit jumped in and told me to butt out of her business.” I rose from my seat, intending to leave. I didn't pretend to understand the dynamic between Kit, her manager and the label, but I knew it was fucked up. “And that is what I’m going to do. I can’t sit by and watch Kit get treated like shit by that guy. Between Ron and Liam Connor, she seems determined to be a fucking doormat.”

  I turned when Bridget touched my arm.

  I expected her to blast me for criticizing Kit, but her tone was low and calm. “Listen, I need to explain something to you. Kit and Ron—they’re in a weird place right now.”

  “Does that weird place allow him to insult her?” Bridget wasn’t going to defend this guy, was she?

  “No. It doesn’t.” Kit’s best friend paused and creased her brow in concentration. “They’ve been fighting a lot lately. He’s been riding her pretty hard about jumping through hoops for the label until her new contract is signed. She’s focused on making it work, but she’s tired. It’s caused a lot of strain between them.” Bridget gestured around the rehearsal hall. “Remember I told you that the music business isn’t really about the music?”

  I nodded.

  “Kit’s contract isn’t just about her. It’s about all of these people having work. Right now seventy–five people depend upon her in order to make a living and she already feels guilty about the way she screwed up and let them all down. At twenty–one, she’s the CEO of a multi–million dollar corporation and it’s been like that since she was a teenager.” She squeezed my hand as she continued. “Kit’s life hasn’t been easy. She works to make sure that she can stand on her own and take care of her people. They’re her priority—even ahead of her own happiness. So she’s not going to just fire Ron when he’s being a jerk. This tour is too important. She isn’t going to face off with Liam when she isn’t sure she can win the fight.”

  She stood up, giving the “one minute” sign to a young guy holding a clipboard and gesturing for her to come over before turning back to face me. “I know you think she’s being a doormat, but she doesn’t just have herself to consider.” Her mouth formed into a crooked half–smile. “So, cut her a break, okay?”

  I took a look around the rehearsal hall. There had to be fifty people working here today and more behind the scenes. How many people did it take to run a tour that lasted months? My gaze settled on Kit. She stood with her band and Tyler Grant, readying their instruments to rehearse a song and all the while Tyler kept hitting on her. A touch here, a squeeze there. A constant public pawing that was starting to piss me off. Kit looked tense, stressed, and so unlike the carefree, sexy woman I’d held in my arms a mere twenty minutes ago.

  I looked at Bridget, all the anger gone now. “So, who takes care of Kit?”

  “Ha!” She scoffed at my question and patted a hand on my shoulder like I was a little kid. “That’s the million dollar question. Kit doesn’t let anyone close enough to take care of her. Someone is going to have to make it happen.”

  She glanced back over her shoulder at the clipboard–guy who was now hopping up and down impatiently for her attention. Returning her gaze to me, she considered me for a long moment before leaning closer, so I was the only one who could hear. “Are you the one?”

  I watched her walk away, too stu
nned at her question to answer. What did she want from me? To be “the one” for Kit? Hell, that wasn’t what I signed up for. Even though I cared about Kit, liked her even, a long–term place in her life wasn’t going to happen.

  Across the room, Kit approached the microphone and launched into a duet with Tyler that I recognized as a hit from a couple of years ago. She turned into a different person once the music started.

  She was the woman from the Bluebird again. The creases disappeared from her forehead, she smiled as she interacted with her band, and even Tyler trying to cop a feel didn’t faze her. She was in her element, queen of all she surveyed and at peace with the world. With sudden clarity, I understood why Kit wanted these three weeks. Right now, the only place she had to let go and be herself was on the stage.

  I remembered my question—who took care of Kit?

  For the next three weeks, it would be me. I could do that.

  I was strangely at peace with my decision. I could show her a good time and take her away from all the pressures of her job. I’d keep my nose out of her business shit since my involvement only put more stress on her and blurred the lines on what this fling was all about. Just be the boy–toy. Keep it casual.

  I sat there for another hour, watching Kit rehearse and conduct business with her staff while I figured out a plan to show her a good time. A few quick texts and it was set. Tomorrow was my day off and I planned to make good use of our time together tonight.

  She looked exhausted, and when she turned in my direction and I gave her a tentative smile, she cautiously returned. Wrapping up the job, she walked over to where I sat on the couch and joined me on the sofa.

  Her hair swirled around her, creating a curtain for her to hide behind. I couldn’t see her face but her voice was tired. “I didn’t think you’d stay.”

  “Yeah, well... neither did I.” I shrugged my shoulders and huffed out a short laugh. “I figured you’d call security and kick me out.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Thanks for not doing that, by the way.”