Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1)

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Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1) Page 9

by Kitchell, Laura


  “Absolutely. I’d rather forget the storeroom ever happened.”

  “I don’t know that I’m willing to go as far as forgetting.” He gazed at her white, shapely legs and pretty feet.

  A knock sounded, and he couldn’t take his eyes from her pert ass in pink panties as she went to answer. Marty and Dan entered, wearing robes and carrying a variety of bowls and bottles.

  Burn shot to his feet. “No.”

  “Don’t be a spoil sport,” Kendel said. “You don’t think I’d really be alone with you in my underwear, do you? Especially after this morning.”

  Marty chuckled and Dan shrugged.

  “I thought you were pretending it didn’t happen.” He averted his gaze when his flat mate shed his robe.

  “Man, you’ve got a lot of lions.” Marty handed him a beer then set her dishes and other bottles on the nightstand.

  “Do you have a problem with it?” Burn asked more defensively than he’d meant. Damned if he could seduce Kendel round to his way of thinking with these two in the room. Blast it.

  “Hell no. I collect fairies. I don’t travel with them, but I bought one at the mall today. It’s cool you collect lions.” The assistant took the remote and selected a film.

  Kendel stretched atop his counterpane on her belly. Hugging the large lion at the foot of his bed like a pillow, she said, “You said it had been ages since you’d watched a movie in your underwear. Here’s your chance. Off with the pants.”

  “This is your idea? The four of us in our knickers here in my room?”

  “Guilty.” She offered a single, firm nod then gave him a curious, mischievous glance.

  Marty sent her robe to the floor and sat atop it. Dan joined her, using the bed as a backrest and putting a bottle of beer to his lips.

  “Very well. What are we watching?” He peeled off his leather pants and reclined on a stack of pillows at his headboard. He folded his hands atop his stomach to keep from touching the lovely legs only inches from his.

  “Monty Python,” said Marty.

  Kendel sent him a grin over her shoulder. “We were going to watch a new release, but this’ll be so much more fun.”

  Burn folded his hands behind his head and prepared to spend the next two hours concentrating on preventing a hard-on. Thirty minutes into the silly movie, however, they laughed and exchanged witty comments like old friends. He’d never expected to enjoy Marty’s company so much.

  An hour in, he joined Kendel at the foot of the bed and shared the lion with her. What was it about her that could work him into a passionate frenzy in the morning then relax him in the afternoon? She confounded him, but in the most delightful way.

  * * *

  That night, Kendel scrambled to collect iced water and a stack of clean towels. She had forgotten to grab a handful of chocolate from Burn’s suitcase, so while the opening band primed the crowd, she ran down the next block and purchased a few candy bars from a convenience store. Still sore, her thighs ached something awful, but she didn’t let it slow her.

  By the time she returned, FlameSmith had taken the stage and rocked hard. Their first song, fast-paced and high-energy, whipped the crowd into a screaming, singing furor.

  Burn leaped then spun, taking Kendel’s breath. He slid to the edge of the stage on his knees. His fingers never stopped on the instrument’s strings.

  V’s voice filled the arena. Burn jumped to his feet and joined in, his voice in perfect harmony. At the back, on a platform, Jay beat his drums so hard Kendel wondered how he didn’t bust through. Where did they get such energy? No wonder they all had great bodies. This was a workout.

  Tonight, the music electrified her. Excitement sang along her nerves and she understood why FlameSmith had fans enough to fill massive stadiums around the world.

  When Dan came to center stage and began the next song on his bass guitar, Burn stepped behind the screen and accepted a cloth to dab his face. “That film in our knickers idea was brilliant, Kendel. This is the best concert we’ve given yet.”

  “I’m feeling it.” She handed him a bottle of water. “You guys are awesome.”

  He downed the water straight then handed her the empty plastic. “Listen to this.”

  The drums filled under Dan’s bass, and on the third beat, V and Burn hit a harmonic, screaming high note as they went sliding toward one another from opposite ends of the stage. They met in the middle, and the crowd erupted.

  Kendel laughed, delighted.

  Dan melted backward as Air joined them, V in the middle, and the two guitars accompanied the vocals into another world. Nothing in a recording could ever sound this real and alive and pulsing. It blew her away.

  Marty came to her side. “Fuckin’ genius, aren’t they?”

  “I had no idea.” Kendel couldn’t take her eyes off of Burn.

  “So what happened at the music store this morning?” Dan’s assistant cut her a curious glance then returned her gaze to the performance.

  “None of your business.” She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets to hide their shaking.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  Irritation sent hairs on end at Kendel’s nape. “You thought what?”

  “The guys think you two finally bumped uglies. I do, too. The way sparks fly between you two, it was inevitable.”

  Inevitable? Burn had implied the same. Was she the only one who thought they could escape it?

  “Well?” asked Marty.

  “We didn’t. And just so you know, we won’t. He’s my boss, and he hates women. I’d never bump uglies with a man who can’t love me. I’m not a slut.”

  The woman faced her. “You don’t have to be a slut to have sex for the fun and pleasure of it.”

  “I agree, but I know myself too well to think it wouldn’t mean anything. When I get naked with a man… Well, it’s not that simple with me. It’s how I’m wired.”

  Marty’s eyeliner-laden eyes narrowed. “Then don’t ever get naked with Burn. He’ll tear your heart to shreds.”

  On stage, he grinned then leaned impossibly far backward as his fingers sprinted along the frets of his guitar.

  “I know. Don’t think for a second that I don’t know.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, Burn moved in a daze under Kendel’s direction. She laughed in the elevator when he leaned on a wall and closed his eyes. He didn’t mind, which bothered him. He ought to mind a lot. He didn’t want to like her, but he couldn’t seem to resist her charm. Damn him.

  “That fish soup was good,” she said quietly. “I was skeptical, but I actually enjoyed it.”

  “Mmm.” Fish soup for breakfast. He wouldn’t have contemplated it, but when she’d brought it and sliced pears from the hotel’s kitchen, it had smelled delicious. It tasted even better. He chuckled.

  “Right?” She laughed. “Not in a million years, yet we ate it.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Air met them in the lobby. “Put on your public face. Paparazzi got V and Jay on the way to the bus. Those are going to be some ugly photos for the tabloids.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Burn rubbed his eyes. Cold air bled across the floor, chilling him from the knees down. Apparently temperatures had plummeted overnight. He regretted not wearing a coat over his T-shirt.

  “Let’s get this over.” Air led the way outside where their bus’ engine rumbled in the quiet early morning.

  Flashes blinded him, and photographers shouted in a chaos of disruption. He tried to keep his features schooled, but Kendel’s fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, alerting him to her alarm. He spun to gather her close, to protect her, but she pointed at a smugly smiling photographer, her glare fierce.

  “You son of a bitch,” she yelled.

  The man smirked and took her picture. “There’s a rumor about you and Burn Shatterly, Miss Price.”

  “How did you learn my name?” She flew at him.

  Burn’s stomach hit the ground. “What the hell?


  Her fist connected, and the photographer shouted, grabbing his nose as blood poured out. She gasped. Burn reached her, careful not to jostle her where she cradled her hand.

  “That really hurt,” she said on a shaky voice.

  He maneuvered her toward the bus as cameras flashed and shouts grew louder. Air met them at the stairs and helped her up.

  “What the fuck happened?” asked V, standing in the aisle. “She’s going to be in tomorrow’s papers, and that asshole’s going to sue us.”

  “Put a sock in it,” said Air.

  “Move,” said Burn, prepared to shove V into a seat if necessary. He helped her to an inside seat where the paparazzi couldn’t take more photos then used the seatbacks to vault over her into the window seat. “Let me see. Is it broken, do you think?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t believe that guy.”

  He glanced over her head at his friends. “Is there any possibility of getting some ice?”

  “I have some.” Jay’s assistant raised her hand. The heavyset woman in a bulky navy blue sweatshirt brought a small cooler and said, “Stick your hand in here. Don’t mind the drinks. You were so brave.”

  Kendel inched her hand into the ice, sucking a breath through her teeth. She shook her head. “I wasn’t brave. I was angry enough to be stupid.”

  “She’s got that right,” said V, sitting with a huff.

  “Who was he?” Burn shot his mate a warning glance. “Do you know him?”

  She turned large, worried eyes on him.

  “What? Is he something to you?” A fist clenched around his burning stomach.

  “No.” She leaned near and said in a near whisper, “I ran into him at a store close to Ganon Square when I was buying your chocolates. He tried to talk me into being his informant on FlameSmith’s activities in exchange for half the profits on his pictures. If he’s here—”

  “Someone took the deal.”

  “Exactly.”

  The fist tightened in his gut. He glanced around the bus, but nobody acted strangely.

  Dan and Marty boarded, both scowling. “Bloodsuckers,” the assistant spat. “Can we please leave?”

  His flat mate slumped into a seat horizontal from Kendel. “They have yet to load our baggage. What happened to you?”

  Her lips formed a thin line.

  Patting her arm, Burn said, “She socked one of those bloodsuckers. A particularly nasty one, so it seems.”

  “Well done. Are you injured?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, lifting her hand free. She studied her knuckles then flexed her fingers.

  “It’s swollen. Put it back in.” Burn urged her arm down until her hand submerged.

  “It’ll be fine,” she said.

  “Damn, girl.” Marty thumped her on the back. “You’re more bad-ass than I thought.”

  “Careful!” Burn frowned at Dan’s aide.

  “Whatever.” Marty continued toward the back, and V followed her.

  The bus trembled as suitcases slid into the undercarriage. At the hotel entrance, the paparazzi milled. The man Kendel had punched glared in their direction, blood spatters soiling his heavy coat and scarf.

  “Served him right,” Burn said.

  “I was rash. What if he reports me? Maybe V’s right. What if he sues?” She stared at her hand in the ice but cut him a glance.

  “He won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  A lock of her hair fell forward, blocking her profile, and he swept it past her shoulder. Loving the softness, he lingered, letting the cool weight of her curls caress his fingers.

  “Burn?” She stared him in the eye.

  He wanted to kiss her. To reassure her. To comfort her. It scared him. He hadn’t expected to ever want to protect a woman again.

  Releasing her hair, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. “He won’t report you. The assault took place on foreign soil. That makes it legally complicated and will delay his return home. Also, any pictures he took will be confiscated as evidence. He won’t be able to sell them. Those photos are the entire reason for this trip, which was expensive for him. I assure you, you’re quite safe.”

  She visibly relaxed.

  The driver climbed aboard, and they immediately pulled from the hotel. A collective sigh of relief sounded throughout.

  Burn turned his attention to the window but paid no mind to passing scenery. Kendel had not only declined the photographer’s deal, but she’d attacked the man. Then she’d warned him that they had someone on staff who fed the band’s information to the snake. It went against what he believed of women.

  If he’d been so wrong, why couldn’t he completely trust her? He still sensed a part of him waiting for her betrayal. Waiting for her to strike. He began to wonder if paranoia may be more a problem than distrust.

  He closed his eyes and sighed. He liked her so much. Even expecting her duplicity didn’t lessen his enjoyment of their time together. Didn’t lessen his desire for her.

  * * *

  The hour-long ride to the Incheon airport gave Kendel a chance to soak her hurting hand long enough to prevent too much swelling. By the time they reached the private entrance, however, bruising had begun. Her half-frozen knuckles didn’t want to bend, so she left her carry-on to the baggage handlers. She could shower and change when they returned to the condo, so it could ride in the hold on the flight to Los Angeles.

  Burn didn’t say a word. He barely glanced her way. She didn’t want him angry with her, though she wondered how she hadn’t grown accustomed to it. He’d used the word friend, but when it came to essentials, she was hardly more than his assistant.

  She preferred it this way, didn’t she? His emotional distance ensured she wouldn’t do something she’d regret. Like that damned kiss. What had spurred him to it? He’d claimed jealousy, but she didn’t believe him. What reason had he to be jealous? She’d worked for him five days, and they couldn’t seem to go longer than an hour without arguing. Though their talk on the flight here had been pleasant, and they’d managed to get through two very interesting Korean breakfasts without a single heated word.

  He strode ahead then spoke with Jay as they traveled the lengthy concourse. All five band members were tall, but only V came close to Burn’s height. And V appeared emaciated compared to her boss’ broad shoulders and muscular arms. She tried not to stare, but Burn was a treat for the eyes.

  “Hey, Blaze.” Marty glanced at the hand Kendel cradled in the crook of her arm. “How’re you doing?”

  “Alright, I guess.” She cringed. “I feel so stupid.”

  “Why?” Dan’s assistant herded her to a coffee shop.

  “Because I took one look at that guy and went flying at him like an animal. I don’t even know why I punched him, really. I was so mad that he’d followed us. That he knew where to find the band.”

  “Yeah.” Marty placed her order. “Do you want anything?”

  “No, thanks.” Kendel sat at a nearby table in the empty sitting area while the woman collected napkins and a stirrer. “The idea that he came all this way just to try to get a picture of the guys looking rough or in a compromising position pushed me over the edge.”

  “It’s your red hair. Screws with the brain and fires the blood.” Marty chuckled.

  “Not funny. Look what I did to my hand. And now Burn’s pissed. He’s probably going to fire me when we get back.” Her heart sank. As much as she hated arguing with Burn, she enjoyed working for him. She liked how she could provide what he needed without asking, and the approval and surprised pleasure in his gaze when she did it well. If not for their kiss, and the fact that she wanted another more than she wanted a decent night’s sleep, she’d find total satisfaction in this job.

  “Burn’s not pissed. You’ve seen him mad. What does he do?”

  Kendel smiled, remembering their first meeting. “He scowls, tries to intimidate, and says inappropriately hateful things.”

  Marty laughed.
“You’ve got him pegged. So what hateful thing did he say this morning?”

  “That’s why I’m concerned. He didn’t say anything. Nothing. Silent for a whole hour. It scared the heck out of me.”

  “He’s not pissed.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know.” Marty accepted her coffee from the barista and waved for them to continue to the gate. “I don’t know him that well.”

  “You’ve worked for Dan four years. How can you not know Burn well?”

  “He’s changed. He was fun there for a while when he dated Wendy. I knew she was no good. She used to get him to pay her bills, and then she started begging him to buy her a house. They were always stoned. She only wanted his money.”

  Kendel stopped her before they reached the gate. “You know what? I’m interested. I really am. But if Burn wanted me to know about this, he’d tell me.”

  “Suit yourself. If you ask me, you’re way too loyal to a guy who probably couldn’t care less about you.” Marty headed into the causeway.

  Kendel leaned against an unmanned check-in desk and ignored a curious glance from one of FlameSmith’s security men. Could Burn let her go if she quit? Likely. Did he not care, however? She didn’t think so. If he was indifferent, he wouldn’t have held her during flight turbulence. He wouldn’t have shown concern for her hand. He definitely wouldn’t have exploded when she talked to the Korean fan then kissed her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Burn woke in a foul mood. They’d only been in the air four hours. He blamed Kendel for his peevishness and kicked his carry-on then stifled an expletive. He forgot he’d removed his shoes. Damn it! Propping his foot on his knee, he rubbed his toes.

  A giggle floated to his cubicle from the other side of first class. A man’s laugh joined in. Overhead lights brightened, and he frowned.

  Dan’s laughter rang out, further grating on his nerves. His flat mate called, “Champagne all round.”

  What? Burn stood. Justina wore a Santa hat and danced in the aisle to a song in her own head. Near the front, a couple of flight attendants smiled and donned elf hats.

 

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