Dangerous Crush
A Dangerous Noise Novel
Crystal Kaswell
Contents
Also by Crystal Kaswell
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Want More Dangerous Noise?
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
More Books by Crystal Kaswell
Also by Crystal Kaswell
Dangerous Noise
Dangerous Kiss – Ethan
Dangerous Crush – Kit
Dangerous Rock – Joel – coming March 2017
Dangerous Touch – Mal – coming May 2017
Sinful Serenade
Sing Your Heart Out - Miles
Strum Your Heart Out - Drew
Rock Your Heart Out - Tom
Play Your Heart Out - Pete
Sinful Ever After – series sequel
Sign up for the Crystal Kaswell mailing list to get the extended epilogue to Dangerous Crush. You’ll also get the extended epilogue to Dangerous Kiss.
Chapter 1
Piper
The apartment is throbbing with house music and conversations. This is it, apartment 223, the New Year's Eve party.
I take a deep breath, push the door open, and step inside.
It's an expensive loft and it's crowded. Insanely crowded.
Most of the room is a dance floor. People are grinding, kissing, swigging booze straight from the bottle. The couch in the corner is packed with people making out. From this angle it's hard to say, but I'd put money on the woman in the silver dress and the guy in the matching silver blazer doing a lot more than swapping spit.
Okay. It's a rowdy party. No big deal. I'm not the innocent little girl my brothers think I am. I can handle any party, however off the wall.
First, a drink. People bump into me as I cut through the packed dance floor. I'm halfway to the refreshments table when a man in a sleek suit runs right into me.
He's at least ten years older than the next oldest person here and his greasy comb-over isn't doing him any favors.
He shoots me a crooked smile. "Sorry, babe. How about I make it up to you?" He brandishes a prescription bottle.
Oxycontin.
"No thank you." I step backwards with a polite smile. Fuck, if Ethan and Mal find out I'm at a party with drugs...
The man moves on, unperturbed. He finds another friend—a skinny guy in designer jeans— and offers him a pill. Then the two of them are chasing their pills with vodka and moving to the corner of the room.
I guess that's the drug corner. I better steer clear.
Really, I should leave, but it's nearly ten now—I got lost, then spent forever looking for parking—and I don't want to be sitting on the couch, alone, when the ball drops.
Not again.
I'm tired of sitting alone, on the couch, period. I'm not doing it on a holiday devoted to socializing.
I'm not a naive good girl. I can handle being around drugs. As soon as I fix my makeup, I'm going to mingle properly. I'm going to have fun the way my brothers do.
I find the bathroom down the hall and turn the knob. It's unlocked.
But the room isn't empty.
It's...
There's a man leaning against the counter, his jeans at his ankles, his black button up shirt falling off his shoulders.
He lets out a low, deep groan.
His...
He's...
He's hard.
He's hard and he's huge.
At least, he looks huge. I have nothing to compare it too—I've never seen a guy naked before. Not in the flesh.
There's a woman on her knees, taking him into her mouth.
And his hand is on the back of her head, tugging at her platinum blond hair hard enough to rip out her extensions.
She's wearing the same hot pink BCBG dress I am.
She's giving him a blow job.
And I'm watching.
I shouldn't be watching.
"I'm sorry." I take a step backwards. My gaze refuses to budge from the action.
The woman pulls back. She looks at me with an expression that screams the clearly innocent girl in the doorway is not a threat to me sucking off this hot dude.
Slowly, I force myself to take another step backwards. My gaze only cooperates enough to move up his defined, tattooed torso, to his strong shoulders, to the curly black hair hanging in front of his dark eyes.
No...
That's Kit.
The bassist in my brothers' very famous, very successful band. A super hot famous rock star belongs at a party like this.
A good girl college student... not as much.
His eyes catch mine. They flare with recognition.
Oh God. I have to see him in a few days. I have to look him in the eyes.
"I didn't... you should really lock the door." I turn and move away from the bathroom as quickly as possible.
I know there's something wrong with Kit being here, but my brain isn't working. My brain is stuck on the image of him naked in that woman's mouth. My brain is thinking up alternate scenarios of me being the girl with him in the bathroom.
Stupid brain. It's not like I'm about to lose my virginity in the bathroom at some party. Not even if it's with Kit—I'm not ashamed to admit I've had a crush on the bassist since we met.
It's a school girl he's hot and mysterious kind of crush. I'm old enough to know that. But that knowledge does nothing to make my heartbeat calm down when he's around. It certainly isn't helping with the jealousy twisting my stomach in knots.
He's so fucking beautiful.
And, apparently, he's also incredibly well-endowed.
And as slutty as his reputation suggests.
And at this stupid party with way too much booze and drugs.
Wait—
A hand curls around my upper arm.
"You're too tall to blend into a crowd this well." Kit's deep voice flows into my ears. His other hand curls around my other arm. Gently, he turns me so we're face to face. "You okay?"
My cheeks flush as I attempt, and fail, to look him in the eyes. Instead, my gaze stays on my shoes—the Mary Jane flats that scream innocent little girl. "You're already finished?"
He chuckles.
God, I'm going to die of embarrassment. It wouldn't be so bad if this was some random guy but this is Kit, my brother's best friend. And my friend too. I see him all the time.
"I mean... I wasn't saying that you... that you're..." Foot, meet mouth. Words are failing me here. It's too hard to think of anything but Kit nearly naked in that bathroom. Again, I try to look into his eyes. This time, I get as far as his chest. "Your buttons are off." I tap the third from the top button of
his shirt.
He fixes his buttons. "You have a coat?"
I shake my head.
"You can wear mine."
"Why would I wear your coat?"
He nods to my dress.
Is he really telling me my dress is too skimpy? He was in the bathroom with a chick in this dress. "Excuse me?"
"There's drugs at this party."
"I know."
"You shouldn't be here."
It hits me like a ton of bricks. "I shouldn't be here? I'm not the one who—"
"Keep your voice down." He leads me through the crowd, towards the door.
I'm not sure where Kit gets off telling me what to do—apparently, he didn't get off in the bathroom, not if the hard on straining against his jeans is any indication.
I don't need another guy who thinks he's in charge of my life.
He grabs his leather jacket from the rack and takes his time helping me into it. "You're a nice girl, Piper. This place isn't your scene."
"It shouldn't be yours either."
"It's not."
"Then why are you here?"
"I live down the hall."
"And?"
His dark eyes fix on mine. "I'm not going to tell Ethan or Mal I found you here."
"And I'm not going to tell Ethan or Mal I walked in on you getting blown by some random chick."
He chuckles.
"Or that you were at a party with drugs."
No more chuckle. His expression gets serious, intense. He leans in close enough to whisper. "Do you actually want to be here?"
No. Not even a little. But- "I don't want to spend New Years Eve alone."
"You're not alone. You're with me."
"That must be fun for you, babysitting your friend's baby sister."
"I don't offer to do shit I don't want to do."
Likely story.
"Either I take you to my apartment or I take you home. Those are your only choices." He looks at me the way Mal and Ethan do—like I'm the innocent young thing he has to protect.
"Have you heard of asking nicely?"
He shakes his head.
"I suppose women do whatever you order them to do?"
"Usually."
"Well, I'm not going along with your protect Piper shit. I'm not a child. I'm nineteen."
"Piper, will you please come with me to my apartment?"
God, I never thought I'd be upset about Kit inviting me to his apartment. My body is certainly on board with the plan. But my body is all confused by the proximity of his body—his hard chest is only inches from mine, his calloused fingers are on my bare arms. My body doesn't realize that Kit thinks of me like a little sister.
That there's absolutely no chance he'll ever want me to be the girl in the bathroom with him.
No, I have more self-respect than this. I'm not going to be with a man who was just getting blown in the bathroom. Even if it's Kit.
If I'm ever going to be with Kit, it's not going to be in a bathroom. I demand a bed. A couch at the very least.
"Bet this is the hardest you've ever had to work to get a woman to your apartment?" I tease.
Again, he chuckles.
"Okay, I'll go, but I'm kissing someone at midnight." I bite my tongue. It's hard to remember that this is Kit, my brother's best friend, and not some hot guy I saw getting blown at a party. It's hard to remember that him being a famous rock star isn't a big deal to me. It's hard to remember anything but the sight of him half-naked. "I don't mean that you have to, just that I'll find someone at this party if you—"
"Let's go."
"Does that mean you—"
His dark eyes brighten. "It means let's go."
Chapter 2
Kit
It feels wrong having Piper in my apartment.
Dirty wrong, but there's no fucking way I'm looking at Piper like that.
She plays with the hem of my leather jacket. Her bright blue eyes meet mine. There's this innocence to her expression.
She's a nice girl.
There's no way I can consider hiking that tight dress to her waist, pulling her panties to her knees, and licking her until she's screaming my name.
Fuck. I shake my shoulders as I take a step backwards. Can't remember the last time I thought about getting a woman off first. Even as a no fucking way this can happen hypothetical. I'm not proud of the piece of shit guy I used to be.
That version of Kit would have finished with the groupie in the bathroom then dragged Piper back to his place and thrown her on the bed.
No, even he would have known better than to do anything that would fuck with the band. Ethan and Mal—the guitarist and singer in my alternative rock band, Dangerous Noise— are Piper's older brothers. And they're more protective of her than they are of anything. Touching Piper is a one-way ticket to me and the band parting ways.
That shouldn't be a problem.
Piper's not the kind of woman I invite into my bed. I can handle having her here.
If I can manage to keep my eyes off her chest. There's nothing like a nice pair of real tits. Hers aren't huge but they're nice.
Shit. I shake my head and move into the kitchen. "What did you tell Mal?"
"About what?" She takes a step towards me.
"Where you were going tonight? He wouldn't go out unless he knew you had appropriate plans."
She arches a brow. "Appropriate plans?"
"Yeah?"
"Right, because a young woman needs to act like a lady."
It's cute that she's objecting like this. "You're a nice girl."
"How do you know?"
"I know."
She gets halfway into rolling her eyes and stops. Her hands go to her jacket, my leather jacket. She exaggerates sliding it off her shoulders as she pushes her chest forward. "Should I keep my coat on too? Nice girls don't show off their cleavage, do they?"
"Up to you."
She takes off the coat and hangs it on the hook by the door. She turns back towards me, her eyes passing over the loft apartment—it's a nice place with sleek furniture and a hell of a view—before they land on mine. She wears all her frustration in her expressive blue eyes.
I'm sure she gets enough of the over-protective thing from Mal and Ethan, but that's too bad. The band is a family—I owe them my fucking life. For all intents and purposes, Piper is my baby sister too.
Her expression gets intense as she holds my eyes. "The woman who was blowing you, did blow you, how did that go?"
"We stopped."
"Which of you decided that?"
Me, but I'm not sharing that information. I don't need to give her any ideas about the two of us being more than friends. "None of your business."
Piper tugs at her low-cut pink dress. "She was wearing the same dress. It's part of the new BCBG Spring collection. It's all the hotness."
Can't say I pay much attention to women's fashion, any fashion for that matter. I've been wearing the same thing—jeans, button up shirt, motorcycle boots, leather jacket—since forever.
I guess the groupie chick was also wearing a pink dress. It didn't look the same on her. It played up her fake hair, her fake eyelashes, her candy colored makeup. She might as well have had cheap groupie tattooed on her forehead with the way she pawed at my arm and purred Oh my God, Kit Lockhart like my name turned her on more than anything else about me.
"Kit?" Piper's voice pulls me back.
"Yeah?"
"You're giving me a weird look."
Fuck, I am. Piper might be right about the dress, but she looks like a kid wearing her older sister's slutty clothes. Her medium brown hair is hanging straight over her shoulders. Her makeup is silver sparkles and pink lip gloss.
Don't get me wrong. Piper is a pretty girl. She has gorgeous, expressive blue eyes, long legs, and very appealing curves. She's not busting with t&a, but what she's got is nice.
In an innocent kid kind of way.
If it was any other woman, I'd want to corrupt her. With Piper, I wa
nt to protect her.
Which means I need to stop staring. "You hungry?"
"I could eat."
I move to the kitchen and show her my selection. This is the best kitchen money can buy—stainless steel appliances, fancy island, premium pots and pans—but I rarely use it for anything besides heating up prepared meals. There's a handful of them in the fridge and a host of canned shit in the pantry.
Piper looks back to me with an incredulous expression. "You have no fresh food."
"Leaving for the tour in two days."
"Still, you don't even have a lemon. Or an apple. Do you even have frozen broccoli?"
"Even?"
"Okay, you're right. It's your kitchen. You can keep it a bachelor pad." She slides onto the kitchen island and plants her palms on the counter.
The way she leans forward, pushing her dress lower and her breasts higher, makes it difficult to concentrate. For a second, she's not my friend's baby sister but a hot woman looking at me with lust in her gorgeous blue eyes.
A hot woman in my apartment.
A hot woman who could be naked in my bed in five minutes flat.
I shake it off. "You want anything specific?"
"Noodles."
"Any kind of pasta?"
She nods. "I'd kill for pho, but I doubt you have Vietnamese noodle soup lying around."
"Orange County girl," I tease. There's a huge Vietnamese population in central Orange County which means a ton of Vietnamese restaurants.
She beams with pride. "Born and raised."
"There's a place around here that does delivery." I pull out my phone to find the number. I'm greeted with a few dozen let's party text messages. I don't mind the booty calls but the others... "Remind me to change my number."
"Change your number." Her lips curl into a teasing smile.
Piper has a nice smile. I've never stopped to notice it before. I've always liked her as a friend, but we've never really spent any time together. Not alone.
Her brothers made sure of that.
Not that I blame them.
I find a place that delivers all night—even on holidays—and pass the phone to her.
It sounds with a text alert. Her eyes go wide. Her cheeks go red. "Oh my God." She stares at the phone with I can't look away horror.
Dangerous Crush: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 2) Page 1