“It kind of is an inevitable conclusion,” Keys said. “Fang’s gotten every girl he’s ever wanted.”
Sam flinched. A reminder she needed to hear. “Y’all want to know what disturbs me?” Four pairs of eyes stared at her as they waited for her to enlighten them. “Not that Heath’s had threesomes with you, big brother”—although that is way more eye-opening than I’d imagined—“but that y’all seem to think any of this is your business.”
“That’s what I said!” Derringer jabbed his chest with his thumb.
“And another thing…you sleaze balls raised me. I believe I know a thing or two about keeping my legs together.”
Derringer groaned.
Jase shook his head.
Keys crossed his eyes and managed to sound offended, “What a rotten visual. Have some care, Boo, some things cannot be unseen in your head!”
“Not one I required,” Heath said, but the flare of his nose and stare implied he could imagine her spread eagle and beneath him, no assistance required. The visual not nearly as rotten as Keys let on.
She disregarded them all. “As Heath just said, he doesn’t want me in a sexual way.” Heath’s eyebrows lurched upward. “Proof y’all jumping to idiotic assumptions about us is stupid and generating needless drama.”
“I need the performance on stage, not off.” Arms folded across her chest, Tab barricaded the doorway.
Jase failed to appear chastised. Mutinous would’ve been a more accurate description, but her brother was disastrous at dropping issues gracefully, at least not until he was damned good and ready. He glowered at Heath, his jaw locked and a muscle flexing, like a dog eager to fight over a bone.
I am no one’s bone! “Finally! I agree with Tab. You will drop this, Jase.”
Keys pointed at his chest and mimicked the worst artificial air of innocence Sam had ever been forced to witness. “Me no drama, momma.”
Derr snorted and knuckle-fived Keys.
Sam rolled her eyes at Keys’ mockery, but nudged her brother on the arm. “Did you hear me, Jase? Drop it.”
“I hear ya, sis.” With leisure, he rotated his head, and eyes the same shade as hers targeted her. “If he fucks you, I’m going to kill him.”
“If I fuck him, it’ll be because I want him.” Caving to her brother’s threats would be calamitous. “You don’t get a vote in my sex life. Get that through your thick skull or be prepared to watch me walk out of your life.”
Hurt flashed across his features, slackening his jaw and crinkling the corners of his eyes. Sam elbowed the older woman out of the doorway and made a beeline for the exit.
“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” Hot Wired’s agent called, as Sam was a step away from achieving freedom.
“The hotel.”
“Oh no, honey, you got work to do. Back stagers to greet and mingle as Fang’s girl.”
“Have you lost your sick and twisted mind?” Sam noticed the Tone Deaf band members milled about, all but one attempting to hide his interest. “In case you missed it, the Cliff notes version is Jase wants to kill Fang for breathing my air, and you want to stir up more shit?”
“News flash: Hot Wired pays me to stir up shit.”
Sam groaned. “I hate you.”
“Make the band more money, and I can live with that. We need to spiff you up a bit before the meet-and-greet.”
Sam looked down at herself. What the hell was wrong with what she wore? Jeans tucked into knee-high leather boots and a tight, low-cut T-shirt that staged her cleavage at an eye-popping perspective.
“She looks fucking hot to me.” One of the guys from Tone Deaf toasted her with a raised glass. The same man who’d obviously been listening to hers and Tab’s discussion, he slouched on the sofa with his legs spread wide wearing jeans and a vest. Not the look she’d have gone for, but she’d learned ages ago bands dressed for the stage. Only in their private moments did you get a true sense of their fashion sense.
Sam thought he was the drummer. She’d spied him earlier. Good looking with his long brown hair, lithe frame, and killer percussionist skills. “Thanks.”
“She smells like Fang.” Tab grimaced.
Sam lifted her arm and took a sniff as the drummer said, “A shame.”
“You are?”
“Dixon.”
She smiled. “Sam.”
“I know.” His lusty eyed look suggested he wanted to know more about her too.
“See ya at the meet-and-greet?”
His broad grin answered for him.
“Now who’s stirring up shit?” Tab asked as she put an arm around Sam’s shoulder.
“You wanted publicity.”
Not one to mingle with fans often, hanging with them went better than Sam anticipated. Those who weren’t plotting a one-way ticket to Heath’s bed were eager to be engaged by her. Then there were the groupies who eyed all of the guys like a conquest. She held nothing against them. But why none of them—musicians and girls alike—respected themselves enough to be viewed as something more than a conquest to brag about later left Sam dumbfounded.
Dixon sidled up to her and offered her a bottle of beer. Sam shook her head. “No thanks.”
“Don’t drink?” He discarded the bottle on a nearby table.
She eyed his Root Beer. “Not often. You?”
“Recovering alcoholic.”
That surprised her. “How long?”
“Five years.”
Surrounded by every vice known to mankind, the man deserved props for resisting. “How old are you?” She hadn’t figured him for much older than her.
“Twenty-one.” About my age. “Divorced parents, latchkey kid, I let my friends drag me into some baaaad stuff. He keeps looking at you.”
The change in conversation threw her for a moment. “Who?”
“Fang. I don’t think he likes me talking to you.”
“I don’t think it’s any of his business who I talk to.” The freakin truth, but she sent a casual peek beneath her lashes anyway. Yep, Fang tipped a liquor bottle to his lips and swigged. Jase buddied up shoulder bumping him and slapping his back, while chatting with the hot babe-a-licious groupies surrounding them. She knew the routine. Give her brother a chance and they’d bang half of them before daylight. Probably even the men in the collection. She did not want to know for sure.
“You’re a shit-starter.”
“Haven’t you read my bio?” She peered up at Dixon. “Recently added a car jacking to my resume. I’m pretty sure I’m the type of friend your momma warned you against.”
“I’m not looking for a new friend.”
Stunned by his forthrightness, Sam did a double take. Wearing an amused grin, he elevated an eyebrow. When he smiled, he went from cute to good-looking.
“You realize I’m… um… dating”—why’d that word make her cringe inside—“Fang, right?” Probably elicited such a response because she loathed lying.
“Oh, yeah I could tell.” Dixon licked his bottom lip after taking a drink of his soda. He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned closer to her. “Just so you’re okay with me being his secret lover, we’re all good.” His finger beneath her chin pushed her mouth shut. “Don’t worry. Secret’s safe with me.”
“I told Tab I wouldn’t be able to pull this off.”
He chuckled. “From what I’ve seen you’re pulling it off just fine. That performance onstage tonight… inspiring.” Tossing his waist-length hair over his shoulder he surveyed the occupants of the room.
She couldn’t decide what he wanted to keep the knowledge secret, so she just asked. “What do you want?”
“Nothing. Do you want to know what surprises me?”
“Probably not.”
“The male groupies.” Okay, so not what I expected to hear. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with anyone being gay or bi—my brother’s gay, and his partner’s a decent guy. But I wasn’t expecting it on tour. Don’t know why, I should’ve, everyone’s got their
kinks.”
“What’s your kink, Dixon?”
“I like your straightforwardness.”
“Most people hate it.” Sam dimpled. “It’s one of my many talents.”
“I bet you have a lot of hidden talents.” His gaze drank her in, made her feel like a woman and the only person who’d been able to do that lately was Heath.
Uncomfortable by Dixon’s inspection, she looked away, caught Heath’s frown and sent him a rebellious raspberry.
“Aside from the obvious beauty,” Tone Deaf’s drummer went on. “I bet your reckless nature is a front for a woman who hasn’t been taken seriously by too many men. If any.”
Sam’s eyes widened. No one ever took her seriously. Jase still tried to dictate her actions. Keys and Derringer protected her like a set of brothers or father figures. And Heath… well, she continued to sort out his intentions.
Heath must’ve caught her surprised expression because he nudged Jase and nodded toward her. They both scrutinized her as she dismissed them and gave the drummer her full attention. Before she could say anything, he said, “I’d very much like to get to know the woman the world isn’t allowed to meet.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
A slight frown. “Which one?”
“What’s your kink?”
“That a need to know for what I want?”
Sam inclined her head.
“Why? Your boyfriend looks like he might head this way.”
“Because I want to know. Ignore him.” She wouldn’t explain that if he wanted to know the real Sam, then he’d have to share something personal with her.
“Are we talking sexual kinks or something else?”
She shrugged. There were all kinds of kinks. She wouldn’t get nitpicky.
“I’m partial to oral.”
Sam snorted. “What man isn’t?”
“Giving, not receiving.”
Oh. Now that wasn’t something she encountered often.
“And burgers,” he said with a grin.
“Pardon?” He’d lost her.
“I’ve got a thing for burgers. Love them. I try to visit local burger joints in each town I stopover. I’m on a mission to find the best one made.”
Humor siphoned from her belly, and she bit her bottom lip to halt the nervous giggling.
He must’ve noticed her amusement because he asked, “What is it?”
“I’m seeing a pattern here. Both of your kinks involve eating.”
Dixon chuckled. A nice sound, but nothing special that made her panties wet the way Heath’s laughter did. Proof she was in over her head. “You doing the party at the hotel?”
“No.” A mental shudder at what went on at those scrambled her brain. “You?”
“I wasn’t invited.” She hadn’t thought of that. “Want to grab a burger?”
“I think you’re trouble, Dixon.”
Lots of trouble.
“I thought you would be the bad influence on me.” He winked at her.
“Brat, we’re about to leave for the hotel.” Heath got in her personal space, a subtle declaration to Dixon that she was his.
Testosterone idiocy.
An entertained smile teased the drummer’s mouth. They could be friends easily, but she doubted he’d ever be more. Too bad. First impressions, she liked the man. Heath hadn’t even touched her, and her belly trembled.
“Fang, meet Dixon.”
“We’ve met.” Cool words laced with displeasure, he didn’t even glance at the other man.
She turned her face and tilted her head back. “You’re being rude.”
“I don’t care.”
A silent contest for dominance proceeded. The sooner he realized no man would control her, the better off he’d be. “I’m not in the mood to party with….” She peered at the groupies who’d obviously been selected to join the band at the hotel. They preened and teetered like a bunch of brainless nymphos. “I’ll forgo the orgy altogether and meet y’all at the jet.”
“I made you a promise, I won’t renege on that. We’ll go elsewhere, but I will not return to the hotel without you.”
“It’s okay, Sam. I need to be on the tour bus in an hour. We can meet up after the next concert and grab a burger or… munch on something else if you like.”
The ‘munch on something else’ comment jolted a startled giggle from her. Had Tone Deaf’s drummer just offered to get her off by eating her out after the next concert? Yes, I believe he did. Sheesh, he was brash.
Heath frowned and for the first time looked directly at Dixon. They were of almost equal height, so neither was forced to look up to the other. Dixon was wirier and Heath a little more muscled, outweighing the drummer by a good twenty pounds. As far as sex appeal went, Heath beat Dixon with zero competition.
“Am I missing something?” Heath’s palm slid down her arm and he twined their fingers together. The move felt natural, as if he hadn’t put any thought into it, and Sam’s heart rate hammered in her chest.
“No.” Get yourself together! It’s an act, all an act. “Neither of us drinks much so we were going to engage in other recreational activities.”
“Next time.” Heath peered between them as if he was sure he’d missed something.
In silence they walked together to the limo that’d take them to the hotel. The chauffer opened the door for them, and Heath palmed her lower back as she slid into the vehicle.
Heath climbed in and sat beside her. The door was shut.
“Howdy, Tex.” She smiled at Heath’s bodyguard in the front seat.
“Hey, doll. Did you enjoy the concert tonight?
“Yeah. Hot Wired always kicks ass.” She relocated to the opposite seat to be nearer the man. Tex was the doll, not her. Soft spoken, heart of gold, and a former member of the Marine special forces. A total contradiction. “What’d you think about their performance?”
“It’s yours I want to talk about.”
She grinned. “Ha! You saw that? Any suggestions on how I could—hey!” Using her fingernail she tapped on the privacy window as it went up.
“Guess he wants to talk.” Tex nodded in Heath’s direction.
With a huff, she twisted in her seat to glare at him. “Aren’t you the rude man of the hour?”
Long legs stretched out, he slouched in his seat and stared out the window as the limo pulled away from the curb and berserk fans. He ignored her, seeming a little too contemplative for her peace of mind.
“Where’s the rest of the gang?” The short skirt Tab dressed her in rode upward, and she pulled at the hem.
“We’re sleeping at another hotel so the partying won’t bother you.”
Sam wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. “Tab booked our rooms already.”
“I have a credit card.”
“But…she wanted publicity. Can’t get it if we’re not hamming it up for the press with the rest of the band.”
“Fuck Tab and the press.” He faced her. The dim lighting cast his features in shadows, but his presence bespoke his seriousness. “Consider this façade over with.”
Relieved and oddly disappointed, she exhaled.
“Starting from tonight we do this for us and no one else.”
“What?” But he just said….
“I only agreed with this farce because it gave me the opportunity to be with you, pretend we’re together. After tonight I realized I can’t be with you like this, not with a lie hanging between us.”
Well that settled her confusion. Excitement soared regardless, and she attempted to tamp the emotion down. “You’re impossible. What about your friendship with Jase? Your position in the band? Our friendship?”
“My pretending gets muddled with real desires, and I forget to act like a fake boyfriend. I’m not impossible, just giving you the fucking truth. Give it a shot for once, Sam. I invite you to try the truth where I’m concerned—we’re concerned. Jase and the band aren’t the issue.”
Wrapping her arms around her
waist, she hugged herself, but found zero comfort.
He pushed a button and light illuminated the area. “You cold?”
“No.”
He pat the seat beside him. “Come sit with me.”
That close to him would be ruinous for her self-restraint. “I’m good right here.”
Nails against his stubble made a scratchy sound when he ran them along his chin. “I knew dating you wouldn’t be easy.”
“Should I state the obvious?” Like we’re not dating? She rubbed her arms hoping the friction would alleviate the goose bumps, but the awkwardness of the moment remained. Wondering what lay behind his imposing stare but unable to take the intensity any longer, she looked away.
In one fluid move, she watched him sit up and lean forward from the corner of her eye. He fingered her bare knee, his thumb creating wispy circles against the inside of her leg. She jerked at the contact and slapped at his touch. Their gazes crashed together, and she froze under his observation.
“Sam, beneath your gruff exterior I know the real you. You’re compassionate and loyal, kind to strangers, the type of woman I want in my life.” He hooked his fingers around the back of her knee and caught her back with his other hand. In the next moment, he dragged her off her seat to straddle his lap. She crash-landed into him with ill grace.
With her knees on either side of his hips, her skirt rode the curve of her thighs and stretched tight over her ass. After a futile effort to pull the attire down and gain some decency—when she should’ve been attempting a retreat instead—she gave up and created fists at her sides, her nails biting into her flesh. Even given his overbearing conduct, if she touched him her control would shatter.
As it was, the heat from his palms on her bare thighs threatened to splinter her resolve. They glided up to the rounded curve of her bottom and back down to her knees. Heat flushed her, and her core pulsed with need. “I’m not playing fair.”
“No, you’re not.” Her voice sounded breathy, a dead giveaway to her libido.
“You were hot on stage tonight.”
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