Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1)

by Kitchell, Laura

  “I never said I’m only committed to my music. I’m committed to my band mates and to my family.”

  Sniffing in irritation, she despised the part of her that wanted him to say he could commit to her. Could love her. Could trust her. It wouldn’t matter. “That’s great, but women aren’t your band buddies or your family. I’m eventually going to need more than happily committed for now. I’m going to need happily committed forever. We want different lives. Let’s agree to be friends, because let’s face it. I’m never going to be yours, and you’re never going to be mine.”

  * * *

  Despite her words, Burn wanted Kendel. She tried to discourage him, but his body paid no heed. As she squirmed, snuggling closer yet, her bottom ground against his growing length.

  He could no longer hold a conversation beyond his need to bury himself in her compact, tight body. She weighed so little on his thighs that he imagined how easily he could lift her and position her however he liked.

  Maybe she was right. His thoughts centered on sex and pleasure, but she spoke of forever. He never contemplated one woman to the end because it required the kind of love born only from unyielding trust and dedication. He wasn’t capable. Not anymore.

  Though as he inched in that direction with Kendel, a morbid, twisted part of him clung to the possibility that she spewed lies and had staged the scene with the photographer only to play him in some complex hoax meant to hurt and rob him.

  It didn’t matter to his member, which had begun to throb in time to his quickening pulse. She didn’t want him. Didn’t want this. So why did she agree to sit on his lap and curl against his chest?

  Swallowing a groan, he closed his eyes. She hadn’t agreed. She’d said no, and he’d made her. Granted, she hadn’t put up a fight. Then again, how much resistance could she offer with an injured hand while he literally pulled her onto his thighs?

  He groaned, and this one escaped.

  “What’s wrong? Am I too heavy?”

  Laughing, he shook his head. He put his lips to her ear and said in a near whisper, “You turn me on.”

  She shivered then chuckled. “Good one. Tell me another.”

  He frowned. “You think I’m jesting?”

  Nothing in her expression or tone indicated any amount of false modesty. “Of course you are. Look, I grew up with three brutally honest brothers. If I was foolish enough to think I might look pretty every now and then, they were quick to point out that guys don’t like redheads. Admit it.”

  Burn blinked. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I cared for redheads be—”

  “Exactly. I’m too short, too pale, and too outspoken. John used to call me dawn of the dead with an attitude.” She laughed.

  Stunned speechless, he could only stare. She had huge eyes the bluest he’d ever seen made by nature, framed in brown lashes so long they touched the underside of her finely arched eyebrows. Her nose, pert and small, bobbed invitingly at its tip when she spoke. Her lips begged him to kiss their pink fullness every time she pursed them in displeasure.

  She had a heart-shaped face surrounded by the softest, shiniest auburn hair he’d ever touched. And her ‘pale’ skin reminded him of his mum’s fine porcelain, which only made a showing during holidays and special occasions.

  True, she was petite, but not childishly so. Her womanly curves left no doubt as to her maturity. When she smiled, she lit him like a candle. Even when she put him in his place, he wanted her. Next to him. Wrapped around him. Taking him inside her and screaming his name.

  Her laughter died as her eyes widened a fraction and met his. She felt his arousal. How couldn’t she? It ached as it tried to escape the restraint of his pants.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, sounding a bit lost.

  “They saw you that way because you’re their sister, but you’re not my sister, Kendel. You should see yourself through my eyes.” He grazed his thumb across her plump bottom lip. “You’re so lovely.”

  Her lips parted, allowing her warm sigh to flutter along his fingers. Her lids lowered by half, and he slid his other hand under her shirt to skim the incredibly smooth, velvety skin of her lower back.

  “You think I’m pretty?”

  “Gorgeous.” Unable to resist, he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers.

  Her quick inhale through her nostrils had him wanting her more. Urging her to open, he caressed up her back. She opened. Her arms went around his neck. When their tongues met, she did another quick inhale. He growled, deepening the kiss. Sending his tongue dancing along hers. Tracing the edge of her bra where it hooked at her spine’s indentation.

  She was heaven. She tasted of vodka and sweetness. He couldn’t get enough.

  Her tongue moved against his, and a tiny mewling sound came from her throat. Sending his fingers into her generous hair, he tilted his face and claimed her mouth.

  Her knees went to his hips and he realized she had straddled him. Her breasts crushed to his chest. Cursing the clothing between them, he ground his aching rod to her pelvis.

  She had him needing. Wanting. If he had a condom at hand, he’d have her undressed and on the floor in seconds.

  Withdrawing his tongue, he savored the plush feel of her lips then broke the kiss. “You don’t, by any chance, have a condom?”

  She slowly shook her head, her eyes still closed and her mouth only inches from his.

  “I could get one from V.” If he could keep from slamming his friend’s face into the fuselage. Though as excited as she had him, Burn doubted he’d have much more on his mind than hurrying back here and sinking into her heat.

  “Not a good idea,” she whispered. Her eyes opened. Sleepy. Sexy. Seductive.

  “Why not?”

  Taking a deep breath, she scooted to his knees. “I work for you. We’re not right for each other. Maybe you won’t, but afterward, I’d regret it.”

  “Good Lord, Kendel. It’s just sex.” The moment the words left his lips, he regretted them.

  She stood and went to the aisle. “Exactly. It’s just sex. It’s not what I want.”

  Already knowing the answer, he asked, “What do you want?”

  “I want a man who wants my heart as much as he wants my body.” She sighed and combed her hair from her face. “I’m tired all of a sudden. I’m going to go sleep.”

  He closed his eyes and raked his fingernails over his prickling scalp. When he opened his lids, she had gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marty unlocked the condo door, and Kendel entered, careful not to knock her newly slung arm into the doorframe. Dan’s assistant called out, “It’s not broken!”

  Kendel tensed. She hadn’t seen Burn since she’d left him in the tail section of the airplane. Awkward didn’t begin to describe the idea of meeting him here. The intensity in his gaze would take on new meaning. Tension would ripple between them. Always they would have sexual magnetism and remembrance of what could’ve happened coloring every look and word. She didn’t want to work this way. Didn’t want to live this way.

  Smiling, Dan came from the living room. “Great news. I’m glad to hear it.”

  Kendel offered him a weak smile.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Does it hurt? I see they bandaged it right well and put it in a sling.”

  She touched the white gauze encasing her knuckles. “They gave me pain medicine. It actually feels good now.”

  “Glad to hear it. Feel up to going out? I’m on my way to get a Christmas tree.”

  “Do you need me? ‘Cause we’ve been back for hours,” said Marty. “I really want to see Chuck.”

  “Yeh. Of course. Go see your boyfriend. In fact, don’t come back until after New Year’s. Take the holiday. You deserve it.” He smiled and waved her out.

  “She’s got the best boss,” said Kendel as the door closed.

  “Yours isn’t too bad, either. I’ve noticed he’s being gentler with you. Want to help me pick out a tree?”

  “Sure. Is Burn coming?
” Her stomach knotted.

  “He had to go out. It’s just you and me.” He held open the door.

  Relaxing, she accompanied him to the elevator.

  “He hasn’t always been so difficult. Did you know he’s my best friend?”

  She stepped onto the elevator and hit the ground floor button. “I figured. You share a condo and act like brothers.”

  He drew his long hair into a ponytail then used a band from his wrist to tie it in place. “I’ve known him since we were boys. We lived a few streets over and went to the same school. He thought math was a doddle. I couldn’t learn it to save my life. Our teacher assigned him to tutor me, and Bob’s your uncle. We’ve been friends ever since.”

  “Wait.” She gave her head a shake. “You have the same Uncle Bob? Doesn’t that make you cousins?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Sorry about that. Bob’s your uncle is a saying back home. It means and that’s all or that’s it.”

  She smiled. “Gotcha. Burn confuses me sometimes with things he says. Usually I can make sense of odd words like doddle by taking them in context. I assume doddle means math was easy for him.”

  “Doddle. Right.” He led her through the ground floor to a parking garage at the back and helped her into a black SUV. “Yeh. Burn was brilliant at math and science. Thought he’d be an engineer or something.”

  “How’d you get into FlameSmith?”

  He climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. Slowly making his way to the exit, he said, “His da, actually. Did you know his father’s a musician?”

  “He mentioned it.” Her hand throbbed a bit, so she repositioned it until she found an angle where it stopped hurting.

  “His da was one of those guys who could play any music you handed him, perfect the first time. He toured with some of the greats. Anyway, he taught us guitar on weekends, and we both took to it like stars. We met V in high school chorus.”

  “Chorus?” She couldn’t imagine Dan signing up for such an activity. Burn and V, definitely. But not their bass player.

  “Mandatory,” he simply stated. “We three started FlameSmith. Jay answered our ad for a drummer and auditioned in, and he brought Air with him.”

  “You’ve got some unusual names,” she said as they headed into traffic. “Yours is normal, but Air? V?”

  “Well, we didn’t really have a choice.” He chuckled. “Can’t have a kick-ass rock band where your lead singer’s name is Vernon, your lead guitarist is Bernard, and your secondary is Erol.”

  “Erol. Wow. So Burn is really Bernard.” She stifled a giggle. He’d said he was a nerd. Now she believed it. He had nothing nerdy left in him, however. “So what’s with the lions?”

  He shrugged, pulling into a large parking lot displaying pine trees on wooden cross stands under the shade of a blue tarp. “Dunno. He’s collected them as long as I’ve known him. Always has, I believe.”

  “What do you collect?”

  Dan grinned. “Memories.”

  * * *

  Laughter filled the living room, so Burn snuck in and hid his shopping bags inside the kitchen island. He strode to the other room where his flat mate hung an ornament on a Christmas tree that filled the window corner. Dan’s blonde kneeled at the coffee table and put hooks on more decorations.

  “Where’s Kendel?” Burn asked.

  Both turned, offering welcoming smiles.

  Kendel stepped from behind the tree. She wore her bound hand in a sling and no smile. “I’m here.”

  His gut twisted. He went to her and gently took her injured hand in both of his then met her gaze. She’d sustained this trying to protect him.

  “It’s not broken,” she said quietly.

  Relief washed through him. He eyed her long-sleeved lavender polo shirt and faded blue jeans. She’d worn this on the flight. Turning to Dan, he said, “You should’ve given her a chance to rest and unpack. Have you had her busy all day?”

  She put a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Burn. It’s not his fault. Going to the hospital on Christmas Eve probably wasn’t the best decision. They were short-staffed and it took hours to get me x-rayed then seen. I didn’t get here until after lunch. And I wanted to help pick out a tree and buy ornaments. This is my only Christmas this year.”

  Her earnest expression and slight smile won his ease, but he didn’t want to let go of her. The spark seemed to have left her, and he suspected it had to do with their kiss on the flight back. He didn’t like this discomfort between them. It reminded him too much of how they’d begun.

  “I’ll run you a bath,” he said. “You should rest before tonight.”

  “That’s not necessary. Wait. What’s tonight?”

  Dan slapped his thigh. “Shittity brickety. I was meant to tell you and forgot. I am so sorry, Kendel.”

  “Damn it! You didn’t tell her?” Burn had never wanted to hit his friend more than in that moment. He put a hand on her shoulder. “I swear I’m not intentionally trying to leave you out of the loop. Dan and I are throwing a Christmas party tonight. A small to do, really. Most everyone is going home to be with family tomorrow, so this is more for those of us who have to stay.”

  Dan nodded. “A bit of a consolation, I suppose.”

  Kendel sagged. “Would it be alright if I pass?”

  Disappointment waged with concern, and he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Are you feeling unwell?”

  She cut a furtive glance at the blonde then peered at him through her long lashes. “I mean, unless you need me to work.”

  “Work? What kind of boss am I if I make you work on Christmas Eve? No, you’re not to work. I want you to come and enjoy.”

  She cleared her throat. “I’m not really a party girl.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked. Did she mean she didn’t like parties or that she didn’t know how? “There’s nothing to it. You put on something nice and simply come.”

  “That’s the problem,” she said, her voice tight and tiny. “I don’t own anything nice except a suit I wore to present my dissertation.”

  “You are taking a piss? Shit. I hadn’t…” He glanced at his watch. Most stores were closing since they approached the six o’clock hour. Why hadn’t he noticed she only ever wore jeans and serviceable tops?

  Then again, he’d spent their first four days doing everything in his power not to notice her. Since then, they’d had a hectic schedule. Besides, how did she expect him to get past her spectacular eyes to pay attention to her apparel?

  The blonde came and offered him a kind smile then took Kendel’s good hand. “Leave it to me. Makeovers are the most fun, and I know I’ve got some dresses that’ll fit.”

  As she led Kendel toward the bedrooms, he somehow doubted his flat mate’s flavor-of-the-month had anything of the kind. The woman had five inches of height and at least two cup sizes on his delectable, petite PA.

  * * *

  After Dan’s girlfriend left to run back to her apartment, Kendel managed to relax in her large tub. Her room was wonderful and this bathroom couldn’t get any more luxurious, but she’d promised she would begin job-hunting when she returned from Korea. For a while there on tour, Burn had acted decent. Better than decent. She’d honestly thought she could work for him. Maybe even become his friend.

  Then he’d gone weird at the music store and kissed her. The kiss on their flight home had sealed her decision, however. She’d never wanted a man so much in her life. If she stayed, she would give in.

  She couldn’t work for a man she slept with. It went against every ethic. She absolutely couldn’t give him her heart. Then she’d become her mother, loving a man who lived a life that made her miserable. No. She wouldn’t do it.

  As she awkwardly washed her hair with her good hand, she fought a weighted sadness. How had this gone so wrong so fast?

  When she’d started, Burn had hated her. For some reason, he seemed to start liking her, but against his will. Then they’d taken a roller coaster ride of closeness and d
istance. Nothing she couldn’t handle as his assistant. She wouldn’t have even minded crushing on him if he’d kept them in the friend zone.

  Why did he have to ruin everything by kissing her? And why couldn’t she find more strength to resist him? She slapped the edge of the tub then climbed out.

  She didn’t want to leave. In her brief time here, she’d grown fond of Dan and Jay. She could handle V, and she’d even started enjoying Marty’s dry quips and efficient handling of her responsibilities.

  But Burn. The one person she ought to despise had become the one person she adored the most. His edgy, sexy distance and anger came from a hurting place, yet it excited her. In unguarded moments, he shed that shell, and she glimpsed a softer, more real quality.

  As his PA, she spent a great deal of time with him, yet it never seemed enough. She missed him when they parted, and that scared her more than anything.

  Dried to the best of her ability, she went to the bedroom and took more medication. Then she booted her laptop. She only wanted a job where she could travel and have some fun. No emotional ties. No aching hearts. No damned regrets.

  She pulled on a pair of clean underwear but couldn’t manage her bra, so she shrugged into a shirt and left it unbuttoned.

  Settling into her chair, she put the computer on her lap. The idea of job-hunting on Christmas Eve depressed her, but the thought of leaving Burn actually brought tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. Why was she being so foolish? He wasn’t the man for her. Never had been. Never would be.

  She had no luck on the posting site where she’d found this position. While answering an email from John, who planned to stay on the drilling platform through the holidays into January, Dan’s girl knocked softly then entered carrying a bag of shoes and a collection of dresses still on their hangers. They all looked tiny.