I see Sheila, our stylist, walk in. I start to look away, but do a double take when I see the bombshell standing next to her. There is no other way to describe her. Bomb-fucking-shell. She has platinum blonde hair pulled into a side bun with some curly strands hanging down. Her lips are the reddest of reds, and her black leather dress and strappy heels make me want to do very, very bad things to her. Things that we’d both like, and would make her scream my name all night.
I’m still contemplating how to make my move when Sheila spots me and starts heading my way. With the blonde. And here I thought this night was going to suck. Well, maybe she will.
“Kace, I wanted you to meet my daughter, Stella.”
“Hi Stella.”
“Hello, Kace.”
“Oh, I just remembered, I actually need to go talk to the mayor. You two will be fine without me, won’t you?”
“Yes, Mom. Go have fun.”
She walks away and I put my best smile on for sexy Stella. It’s the one that makes panties drop around the world. She starts laughing, actually laughing. What the fuck?
“Does that smile actually work for you, little boy?”
“Yes. It does. You know you want a piece of this. Of me. I could have you screaming all night.”
“You couldn’t handle me.”
“My cock’s never had a complaint, and it has a surprise.”
“Let me guess, you pierced your cock, didn’t you? I’ve been there, done that. So that’s not hooking me, either.”
“And I have this.”
I lift the hem of my dress shirt to show her a hint of the shark below my belly button.
“You need to pull your pants up. It’s really not attractive when you babies show off most of your underwear. A hint peeking out of your jeans—that’s hot. Saggy pants and jeans are not.”
“You’re a bitch.”
“Thanks.”
“I wasn’t complimenting you.”
“Yes, you were. You just didn’t know it.”
“I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“Good. I’m tired of your ‘lines.’ If you want to talk to me, talk to me. Don’t try to be sexy. I don’t fuck babies, so that’s not going to happen between us. We could be friends, though, if you can just try to speak to me like a person with a brain. And stop staring at my tits.”
How am I supposed to ignore them? Her dress is an off the shoulder style that’s tight with a zipper down the front. She has the zipper pulled down a little, and her presents are practically begging for my tongue.
“You should zip your dress up if you don’t want me looking.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t look. Just not all the time.”
“I don’t get you.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then hire me as your second stylist. I’ll dress you sexy enough to draw the chicks in. And then I’ll impart my wisdom with you so you can keep them for longer than a few hours.”
“Maybe I don’t want them for more than a few hours.”
“You’re young. You should have the stamina for all night.”
“With you, I bet I could go for days.”
“We’ll never find out.”
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll hire you as long as you promise to give me a fair chance to get you into my bed. I’ll even let you impart all your wisdom.”
“Deal.”
“And I have to tell you, I’m really sorry about this.”
Before she can react, I drop my drink and grab her zipper, pulling it down to her waist. Her tits are barely encased in a red lace bra, and her nipples are already hard before I grab a handful of each one. I kiss her hard and she fights me. It doesn’t last long.
I’m tackled from the side and go down hard. When I look up, Zack Taylor from the Legions is standing above me. He looks like he wants to kill me.
“You just put your hands on the wrong woman, asshole.”
“She’s with you? I thought you had that little nerdy chick in your bed.”
He pulls back his hand, but his fiancé grabs his arm. “You have a game tomorrow, Zack. He’s not worth it.”
“No he isn’t,” Stella adds, as she finishes zipping up her dress to glare down at me. “He’s just a little boy who can’t control himself.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Stella. Make sure to wear something sexy for your first day of work,” I yell to her as security drags me out.
I keep the cocky grin on my face until I get inside the limo. Then I hold my head in my hands. I had to do that. I had to. But now I’ve ruined any chance I may have had with Stella. And that’s just about as fucked-up as it can get.
Read more about Stella & Kace in
Devouring the Secret, out February 2015!
Turn the page for a sneak peek
of the new book by my good friend,
Alison Packard, out now!
Hearts on Fire
Country music star Jessie Grant has it all. An amazing voice, a string of multi-platinum albums, and a sold-out concert tour. But just before her Hearts on Fire tour rolls into Las Vegas, her lead guitarist is badly injured and is unable to play. Desperate to find a replacement before the night of a televised live show, Jessie is forced to accept help from the last person on earth she wants to see again.
Drew Carmichael has earned a well-deserved reputation as one of the best up-and-coming musicians in Nashville, without cashing in on his renowned father’s name. When Jessie’s manager calls and asks him to fill in for her band’s injured guitar player, he agrees to help Jessie out even though she cut him out of her life four months ago.
In Sin City, sparks fly between Jessie and Drew, and it isn’t long before they give in to their mutual attraction. But when the dark past Jessie has successfully hidden for ten years explodes in the media, their tenuous bond is put to the test, and both Jessie and Drew must learn to trust each other if they don’t want their newfound romantic relationship to go up in flames.
Chapter One
Jessie Grant stared at the cheery yellow wall in her dressing room, and fought the overwhelming urge to throw something. Anything. Her agitated gaze fell on the lovely vase of flowers that had been delivered just before the show, and she had to remind herself that violence, especially towards a perfectly innocent bouquet of pink roses and white calla lilies, wouldn’t solve anything.
But then again, it might relieve the tension that was coiled inside of her like a tightly wound spring.
“Calm down.”
“Calm down?” Jessie whirled around and met the exasperated eyes of her manager. “You expect me to calm down when my guitar player, who, unbeknownst to me, was half-wasted during our set, and decided to stage dive into the audience.” She pointed a finger at him. “That broken arm of his isn’t gonna to heal in four days. I need another guitar player, and I need one now.”
“Relax,” Wally Lindell said in a soothing voice. “I’m working on it.”
“How are you working on it?”
She propped her hands on her hips and gave him her best glacial stare. It didn’t faze him. It never did. He’d been her manager since she was fifteen years old, and he knew her better than anyone. So he should have known that she would be totally freaked out about losing her lead guitar player four days before her exclusive gig in Las Vegas, after all, he was the one who had dubbed her a perfectionist.
“I put in a call to Drew.”
Jessie’s already churning stomach lurched wildly. “Drew Carmichael?”
“How many other guitar players named Drew do you know?” Wally shot her a wise-ass grin.
Only one.
“So you talked to him?” she asked, as she moved to the make-up table. She picked up the bottle of water her stylist had left out for her and took a sip. Maybe the simple task would soothe her frayed nerves.
It didn’t even come close.
“What did he say?”
“I left him a message. He hasn’t ca
lled me back yet.” Wally shoved his hands into the front pockets of his black jeans and looked her straight in the eyes with an unflinching directness.
She’d seen that look before; the one telling her that while she might be the star, he was the one who’d gotten her there, and before she went off half-cocked, she’d better let him have his say. And of course, she would. She respected Wally far too much not to listen to him.
“He’s the only guitar player we can get on such short notice that knows your set list,” he continued. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but whatever it is, you need to put it aside for the sake of this gig, and maybe the rest of the tour.”
“What makes you think something happened?” she asked with feigned nonchalance.
It was best not to let anyone, especially Wally, know how much she cared about Drew.
“Because you two were as thick as thieves last spring, and now it’s like he’s dropped off the face of the earth. Did you have a falling out?”
“No.” Jessie scowled, as she returned the bottle to the table. “We didn’t have a falling out. I’ve been on the road for months now and he…he’s got a life.”
A life that didn’t include her.
“Jessie,” Wally began, in his most patient tone. “I don’t know what your beef with Drew is, but we need him. We’re leaving for Las Vegas tomorrow morning. Do I need to remind you that CMT is broadcasting your concert live on Friday night?”
“No.” She grimaced. “You don’t need to remind me. CMT has been wonderful to me. We need to put on a great show for them, and for my fans.”
“Then we need Drew. You know it as well as I do.”
Wally was right. They were in for a world of hurt, and Drew was the logical solution to their problem. But she didn’t have to like it.
“I’m not sure he’ll do it.”
“He’s a fine young man. When he finds out the pickle we’re in, I’m sure he’ll come through.”
“If he agrees to do it, then it’s okay with me.” Jessie sighed, as she plopped down on the padded stool in front of the table.
She plucked a make-up removal towelette from the plastic package on the countertop, and began to wipe the stage foundation from her face with brisk, controlled strokes.
Out of the blue, tears swam in her eyes. Mortified, she blinked and averted her face before Wally could see them. She didn’t want him to know how miserable she was, or how humiliated she’d been on the night she’d showed up at Drew’s apartment, ready to confess her feelings for him, only to find him with his ex-girlfriend, who’d been wearing nothing but a damn towel.
It had been years since she’d considered opening up her heart to a guy, and that night had been a stark reminder of why—she’d never been the girl worth choosing.
“I’ll try him again,” Wally said, as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his leather jacket and left the dressing room.
Jessie stared blankly at her reflection as she methodically cleansed the remainder of the make-up from her face. A minute or so later, her skin was bare, but instead of Jessie Grant, the glamorous, award-winning, multi-platinum country recording star, all she saw was Mary Ellen Dickson, a bedraggled and homeless girl from Mississippi, who’d fallen for a guy so unattainable, he might as well have been on Mars.
And didn’t that just suck?
As usual, the Music City Saloon was filled to capacity. Drew Carmichael looked out at the crowd from his position behind the bar. On the stage, directly across from the bar, a dark haired woman sat on a wooden stool and strummed her guitar, as she sang a plaintive song of lost love and yearning. As the haunting ballad washed over him, he couldn’t help but think of another raven haired beauty. One who had managed to work her way under his skin without him even realizing it.
Shaking off the image of her beautiful face, he picked up a crate of empty beer bottles and headed for the back. The mouth-watering aroma of burgers sizzling on the grill triggered a growl in his stomach. He ignored it. For the moment anyway. His shift would soon be over, and his first order of business would be to chow down on one of Clyde’s ginormous bacon cheeseburgers.
He nodded at Cherry, one of the MC’s waitresses, who was heading in the opposite direction with three plates balanced in her hands, and tried not to focus on how hungry he was as he deposited the crate alongside the other empties near the back door of the kitchen. As he stood up, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his back pocket and checked the caller ID.
For a moment he considered not taking the call. He hadn’t answered the one earlier, but now he was curious. Why was Wally calling him? Had Jessie gotten herself into a jam? That didn’t seem likely. Ever since she’d left Nashville for her Hearts on Fire tour, she’d been working hard and getting rave reviews everywhere she played. According to the cover of the gossip rag he’d seen at the small market by his apartment complex last night, she was supposedly dating a professional baseball player, or maybe it was a football player, Drew wasn’t quite sure which.
He hated the fact that he now knew so little about her life that he had to go online and search for her concert reviews, or watch CMT in the hopes of catching a glimpse of one of her videos. He also hated the fact that he was no longer making music with her. But what he hated most of all was the fact that he only realized how much she meant to him after she’d cooled their friendship and used her concert tour as a means of distancing herself from him.
And because he was starving to hear something—anything—about her, he answered his phone. “Hey, Wally.”
“Drew. Thank God you answered, son.”
“What’s going on?” he asked, as he immediately picked up the strain in Wally’s usually jovial voice. “Is Jessie all right?”
“She’s fine. It’s Kenny. He broke his arm tonight. It’s bad. Real bad.”
Drew grimaced. “Oh man. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“We need you.”
He didn’t have to ask what Wally meant. “Did you run it by Jessie?”
“Yes. Although I like to pretend I’m in charge, she’s the boss. I don’t do anything without her approval.”
“And you can’t get anyone else?” Drew gestured at Hannah as she rounded the corner, dodged a waiter, and headed towards him.
Judging by the fact that she’d changed out of her normal work attire of jeans and a T-shirt, and into a short print dress that showed off her slender arms and legs, it was safe to assume that Hannah was done waiting tables for the night.
“No one else who knows her set list as well as you. We just don’t have time to break someone else in. If you say yes, I’ll have a first-class ticket waiting for you at the airport in the morning, and you can meet us in Las Vegas tomorrow in time to start rehearsing. We’ll pay you double your normal fee, and, of course, you’ll get your own room at the hotel.”
“That’s very generous,” Drew said, as he returned Hannah’s tentative smile when she halted in front of him.
“Well, you’re worth it, son. And we can’t afford to have any problems. CMT is televising the show. We need to be runnin’ on all cylinders. I sure hope you’ll agree to help us out.”
“I’ll be there. After what you and Jessie did for me when I needed a job, it’s the least I can do.”
Wally expelled a sigh of relief. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down. We’re staying at the MGM. I’ll email you everything you need to know.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Drew said. He hit the end call button on his phone before meeting Hannah’s curious light brown eyes. “Looks like I’m going to Vegas.”
“What for?” she asked, as she tucked several loose strands of reddish-blonde hair behind her ear.
“Kenny broke his arm.” He shoved his phone into his back pocket. “And Jessie needs a guitar player.”
Her brows knitted together. “How’d he do that?”
Drew shrugged. “Beats me. But they need a replacement pronto.”
“It makes sense
that they’d call you. You know all her songs.” Hannah reached out to touch his arm. “I got the A-Okay to leave early tonight. Cherry’s offered to finish my shift for me, and Leo’s gonna drive me home after we have dinner, so I won’t need a ride back to my place.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” he said, then gave her hand an affectionate pat.
One night, four months ago, when he’d been about as low and drunk as he’d ever been, he and Hannah had slept together. She’d also been drinking and hurting over a recent break-up, and it had just…happened. The next morning they realized their mistake, and admitted that their past high school romance had made it easy for them to turn to each other for drunken comfort. But that teenage love was long gone, it had turned into friendship, and there was no romantic spark left to be had. For either of them. And now, Hannah had Leo, and he had…no one.
“You all right?” Her forehead furrowed as she studied him with concern.
Of course she’d be able to tell that something was off with him. Hell, they’d known each other since they were in diapers.
“Never better,” he said with a smile as fake as the tits Cherry had been showing off since her return from a three-week vacation.
He was alone by choice, and for a good reason. Though some days, like today, those reasons didn’t give him much comfort, and they didn’t help him to forget about the devastated look in Jessie’s eyes when she’d found Hannah half-naked in his apartment.
He’d replayed that night in his head a million fucking times. And each time, the wounded expression on Jessie’s face said more than the words she hadn’t been able to utter.
Drew lifted a hand and rubbed his temple. If only he could be the guy she had admired and put on a pedestal. But he wasn’t, and because of that, he’d let her down in the worst way possible.
“You know, I think helping Jessie will be good for you.” Hannah’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You’ve been moping around here for months now.”
Drew frowned. Was it that noticeable? Shit. He thought he’d been doing a fine job of hiding his true feelings. Evidently not.
Devouring the SECRET (Corrigan & Co. Book 2) Page 18