by Alyson Hale
“So you’re using us as a bribe?” Eddie’s lips curl up in a smirk.
Rick’s low chuckle rattles out of his chest. “Something like that.”
Normally I’d be annoyed at something like this, but with Kyri Calloway’s face clouding my mind’s eye every two seconds, I find there isn’t a single part of me resisting this trip anymore. However, there is a part of me that’s rock solid and resisting my tight jeans. She’s not the usual type I would take to a hotel, fuck, and never see again. There’s something different about her. Her vibrancy, her innocence…I’ve never seen anyone like her, and I think I like it. My body likes her intensely, that’s without question. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, attempting to conceal the hard-on I’m going to have to take care of later.
“Jace…”
Rick grabs my attention again out of the blue.
“Can I talk to you in private for just a minute?”
Bloody hell. He must have read my filthy thoughts. I’m sure I’m about to receive a lecture about staying away from his daughter. I stand and nod, then follow him around to the other end of our small camp site. Taking me behind a trailer, Rick leans in and whispers to me.
“Listen, son. I’ve done some stalking of my daughter online, as you probably noticed…” His unpleasant chuckle sounds again. “You are her favorite celebrity, from what I’ve seen. She adores you. With any luck, you’ll be able to lure her to us easy.”
A smile drags the right corner of my lips upward. If Kyri Calloway “adores” me, I’m about to get the luckiest I’ve ever been.
“What I want you to do is warm her up to the idea of coming on tour with us. Act interested in her. Let her think she has a chance with you if you need to.”
I bristle at his words. What makes him think she doesn’t have a chance with me?
“Whatever you have to do, I’m counting on you to get her on board with this plan. I’ll make sure the record doubles your cut and gives you all a lifetime contract if you do this for me.”
My eyes widen. Double our cut? A lifetime contract? My mates would fucking murder me if I didn’t agree to this. It’s almost too good of an offer to be true. However, this is a completely unethical way of going about it.
“Rick, I…I dunno…are you sure you can even do that?”
“I know I can.” Intensity enters his coffee-bean eyes. Whatever Rick sets his mind on, he gets. In all the years I’ve known him, that has always been the case.
If he could get us a lifetime contract, we wouldn’t have anything to worry about ever again. A five-year run as one of the most popular rock bands in the UK isn’t a small feat, but no one is guaranteed forever. We’re all entering our thirties now. I’m the eldest at thirty-one, and as soon as my looks start slipping away from me, our popularity at risk of declining, hard. The security is too good to pass up.
The opportunity to seduce Kyri Calloway without consequences is an appealing thought, too. Her own father just gave me permission to lure her into bed, which means total amnesty for every sick, twisted, wicked thing I plan to do to her once I have her in my arms. I don’t see how I could lose.
“Well…all right. You have a deal.” I reach out my hand and shake his thick, stocky one, hoping I haven’t just made a colossal mistake.
Kyri
The first thing I notice when we walk in the door of the pub is the boobage on the hostess, which is spilling out of her puffed white shirt. Her tiny brown shorts don’t do much to conceal her ass, either. She’s tall and leggy with caramel brown hair and a smile that belongs in a toothbrush ad. When Alex tells her we’re here for interviews, she introduces herself as Ingrid.
“Come this way, I’ll introduce you to Stephen,” Ingrid says, swinging her ass the whole way as she leads us to the back of the restaurant. Alex grins at the sight of the other waitresses dressed just like the hostess—Irish slutty. Just the way girls in an Irish pub are supposed to look, apparently, judging from the mural on the wall which proudly displays an Irish girl in traditional bar wench garb.
Alex nudges me on the way and whispers, “You’ll fit right in here.” I roll my eyes at her as we reach the end of a dark hallway.
“Stephen, let me introduce you to Alex and, uh…” Ingrid snaps her fingers in my direction.
“Kyri. Kyri Calloway.”
I look up into the eyes of a bushy, bearded man in his forties who looks like he played video games all through the night and came to work hungover.
“Ladies, this is Stephen, owner of The Blarney Stone.”
“Hi, how are you?” He shakes Alex’s hand first, then mine. “Welcome to The Blarney Stone. May I offer you drinks as you fill out your applications?”
Alex and I can’t refuse that offer. He sits us down in a booth facing each other and brings us each a Sex on the Beach.
“Take your time. Fill them out thoroughly,” Stephen instructs, handing us each an application and a pen. “I’ll come back when you’re done and look over them, and then we’ll have an informal interview. If you have any sort of food service experience, you’ll have an edge, because most of the people who applied did not.”
I smile. Planet Slushie counts, right?
Alex and I scramble to fill out our applications and Stephen comes back and asks us a few questions. Most of his asks are pretty basic: how much experience we have, what hours we’re interested in working, if we’ve ever worked in a high-volume business setting before. Alex has never worked a day in her life, so it worries me when Stephen focuses more on me. As much as I need this job, I don’t want to cheat her out of the job she came here for. After all, it was her idea, not mine.
“All right, I think I’ve heard everything I need to know,” Stephen declares. The bench creaks under him as he stands to his feet. “Miss Calloway, would you follow me into the back hallway?”
“Uh…yes, of course,” I stutter. I shoot Alex an apologetic look, but she grins and holds up two thumbs behind Stephen’s back.
Stephen pulls me into a side room and closes the door behind us. He doesn’t bother to sit down or invite me to sit down.
“You have the look, the name, everything,” he says, not waiting a beat. “I definitely want you as part of our waitstaff.”
My heart jumps. “Wow! Thank you!”
“You can start right away. Tips are real good here and the girls are really accepting of new people. I think you’ll fit right in.”
“Okay, great. Can Alex start soon, too?”
Stephen shrugs and snorts, then rubs his nose with the back of his hand. “She’s just not a good fit for us.”
My stomach sickens and turns a flip. The last thing I want to do is tell Alex I got the job and she didn’t; however, I desperately need this money. Hopefully she’ll understand. It won’t make telling her any easier, though.
“All right. I’ll take the job.” I force a smile as I thank him and shake his hand. He tells me I’ll be starting tomorrow and that my uniform will be here and ready to change into when I get here at five p.m. sharp. Turning slowly, I suck in a deep breath, walk out the door when he opens it for me, and cross the dining room to speak to Alex.
The sparkle of excitement in her eyes when I approach her turns my stomach even more. “Did you get the job?”
“Yes.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I stumble over the words. “They want…just me. I’m really sorry, Alex.”
She brushes it off with a shrug. “No big deal. I can find a job somewhere else in town.”
“Are you sure?” I search her dark eyes for sincerity and find it.
“Yes. I’m happy for you, Ky.” Alex stands from the booth and hugs me around the shoulders. “You need this job more than I do.”
Squeezing her around the waist, I deflate with relief. “Thanks for understanding, girl. You’re the best.”
Humor enters her voice. “I know.” We giggle and keep one arm around each other as we exit the building.
My shoulders are hunched when I walk out of the bathroom of the p
ub, dreading my first day of work. I’m very self-conscious about the way my strapless bra supports—or rather, un-supports—my breasts. The girls are bouncing beyond control, but there’s nothing I can do about it. My uniform shirt hangs off my shoulders. I have no way of wearing a strapped bra without everyone seeing it.
I check in with Stephen in the back, who doesn’t bother training me—he just immediately throws me to the wolves. I’m given a pen, a pad, a menu, and a list of draft beers to memorize, and a mere thirty minutes to prepare before my shift officially begins. Sneaking off to the side, I sit down in a conference room off the hallway to browse the menu before I have to go explain it to customers. Luckily, I’ve been to this place several times with Alex, so it’s not too terribly foreign to me, but I’m having trouble remembering some of the specifics.
Using the pen and pad, I jot down a cheat sheet of information for myself until I’m able to take these things home and memorize them. The thing I’m having the most trouble with is the beer menu. I’m more of a martini and margarita kind of girl. I don’t like the taste of beer at all. Having to remember so many different types, strengths, colors, and tastes of beer is enough to make my head spin without having any alcohol in my system. I’m going to have to taste all of these so I can advise the customers. I’m not gonna enjoy it, but I’ll have a much harder time if I don’t.
When I’m finally ready to face my hell of a first day, I hear loud, high-pitched giggling in the hallway. I get up and open the door and find Ingrid and another girl—a thin, tanned blonde girl—whispering to each other right in front of me. They startle when I step up beside them.
“What’s going on?” I tuck my notepad into the back pocket of my tan shorts and stick the pen in the space between my ear and my hair.
Ingrid leans down to whisper in my ear, grinning. “You’re never going to believe who just walked in our front door.”
“Who?”
“Jace. Freakin’. Hawthorne! And the whole band,” she squeals.
My heart slams to a screeching halt in my chest. “What?”
“Filthy Bangers is here. We’re going to have to serve them all drinks.”
My entire head drains of blood. “You’re messing with me, right?”
“We’re not, I swear!” The other girl shrieks with excitement, gripping Ingrid’s arm for dear life.
“Okay, whatever.” I chuckle, shaking my head. These girls really think I was born yesterday. I’ve been a freshman in high school. I know the drill. The new kid gets hazed on the first day. Whatever. They’re not going to fool me this easily.
“Kyri, seriously. Look!” Ingrid points down the hallway to the front of the pub.
At first I don’t see him, but then she pulls me in front of her, and I spot the Jace Hawthorne heading toward the bar—all six foot two inches of him. My knees turn to jelly underneath me. He’s in a black collared shirt with rolled up sleeves—showcasing his beautiful wall of tattoos on his left forearm—and a pair of jeans that hugs his hips like they were custom tailored to his body. His dark wavy hair is perfectly tousled as usual. Even from here, I can hear his rich, velvety voice that sends chills running down my spine and makes things clench down below. The sexy British accent magnifies the effect to the point where I can actually feel my panties dampening.
It’s true. The hottest rock singer on earth is here, getting a beer in our pub.
But why?
“What the hell are they doing here?” I mutter. Even though Jace is my favorite, I have to admit his bandmates are fucking studs, too. But I can’t imagine what force on earth would drag them to a small Georgia town just outside Atlanta while they’re not on tour.
“Ladies, what are you doing huddled back here when we have important guests?” Stephen appears behind us, agitated, and shoos us toward the dining area. “Go serve them, now, before they leave without sampling our draft menu.”
“But I can’t serve the Bangers!” Ingrid wails, and the other girl agrees with her. They both tremble in their shorts. Funny, I figured they’d both be the aggressive type, not the kind of people who shy away from the chance to serve hot, famous guys.
Pansies.
“I’ll do it,” I volunteer, even though my heart is pounding in my throat from nerves. I don’t remember half of the beers on the menu right now. Thank God I have my cheat sheet stashed away in my pocket.
Stephen pushes me forward, and I nearly lose my balance. My knees knock together…or rather, squish together. This is one time I’m glad I have thunder thighs. Otherwise, everyone in the pub could hear me shaking from nerves.
I walk around behind the bar for the first time, taking a deep breath before I address the band. My God. I’ve never felt so much testosterone in one ten-foot radius before. It’s suffocating, yet exhilarating.
As I approach him, Jace’s deep amber eyes lock with mine, and I nearly lose my composure. His raw fire and tenacity is trained on me. The hunger in his eyes makes me think he might want to devour me alive. A corner of his mouth pulls up in amusement. Surprising me, he reaches his hand over the counter to shake my hand.
“Jace Hawthorne. Nice to meet you, Kyri.”
“What?” As soon as our hands meet, electricity pulses up my arm and tingles throughout my entire body. Jace must have felt it too, because he jerks back a little, not letting go of my hand. “How do you know my name?” I’m not even wearing a name tag yet.
“That’s my little secret, sweetheart.” He grants me a wink, causing my heart to nearly flutter right out of my chest. “I’ll have a local ale, please. Whatever you recommend.”
Fucking shit. He would ask for a recommendation on my very first night.
Luckily, the bartender, Pete, overheard us. He’s got a green mohawk, gauges, and multiple piercings, but he also has very kind eyes and a smile that puts you at ease. He pipes up over his shoulder as he’s refilling the beer fridge, “See The Stars is brewed an hour away in Athens. You can’t beat it.”
Keeping his fierce eyes trained on me, Jace responds, “Perfect. I’ll have the biggest mug you’ve got.”
Suddenly losing my ability to respond, I nod and move down to the next guy in the line—Eddie, the bassist. They all end up telling me they want the same thing Jace is having, so I take out four frosted mugs and have my first experience with filling up a glass with beer. After seeing me struggle with one of the nozzles, Peter comes over and holds the mug at an angle, showing me how to form a good foam on the top without letting it overflow or not filling it enough. Once I’ve got four beautiful mugs of See The Stars, I turn around and find Jace glaring at me, then glancing suspiciously at Peter.
I immediately start questioning myself on what I did wrong. Is there too much foam? Not enough?
Crap. I can’t handle this much stress. Maybe this isn’t the job for me after all.
“H-here you go.” I manage to deliver their beers without incident and can’t help but watch Jace as he takes a swig. The way his lips wrap around the rim of that mug and his Adam’s apple pulls up and down as he swallows…God, he is just so perfect. He has the face of an angel and the growl of a wolf in his voice. I could spend all night staring at him.
“Can I get you any a-appetizers?” I manage.
“Two orders of the buffalo wings, sweetheart.” The guy on the far side away from Jace flashes a winning pearly grin at me. I recognize him as Damien, the lead guitarist. Where Jace’s stare was probing and laser-focused, Damien’s is sinful and impish. “If you’ve got extra breasts, I’ll take those too.”
Judging from the heat rising up my neck, I’d estimate my cheeks are about the shade of hot Mexican salsa right now. Unconsciously, I pull my arms up over my breasts, which only makes my cleavage deeper and causes his tongue to flick over his lips with hunger.
“Coming right up.” Grateful for the excuse to book it out of there, I head back to the kitchen to put in my very first food order.
Jace
She’s flawless. Absolutely fucking flawless. And
whether she knows it or not, she’s all mine.
We had no idea she’d be here tonight. Rick had planned on going to their house tonight to talk to them, so we decided to bring him to the pub and get some drinks in him to loosen him up first. Unfortunately, he got a call right before we came in here from a contact in California, so he told us to go on in without him. We sat down at the bar expecting to be served by the fellow behind the counter, but then she materialized out of a back hallway and stole my breath away.
Her sumptuous figure is perfectly hugged by the elastic waist of her flowing white shirt. With her sleeves hanging off her shoulders, I can easily picture stripping her down and circling one of her nipples with my lips. Even though she’s back in the kitchen, I still have a photographic image of her miraculous body imprinted on my mind, and I can’t stop picturing her naked and pressed up against me. In all my years of being in a band and then touring, I’ve never been so wildly attracted to a woman, and I’m not going to stop until I have all of her. Over me, under me, and everywhere in between.
I didn’t even know I still had the capacity to be jealous when it came to a woman. When Peter stood with an arm around her to teach her how to fill a mug with beer, and then especially when Damien brought that rosy blush to her neck and cheeks, I was about ready to rip their heads off their necks. I should be the one to make her blush. I should be the one with my arms around her. Now that I’ve met her, I have a driving need to be the only one to get close to her or cause wicked thoughts to race through her mind. She needs to be mine. I’m going to chase her down until she realizes that, deal or no deal.
When she emerges from the back hallway with our wings, I’m salivating over more than just the spicy buffalo sauce I can smell from here. Every bit of her thick, sensuous frame bounces as she struts across the hardwood floor. Damien and I both have a thing for thicker girls. Eddie and Connor like them thin and toned, but I’ve always preferred to have a little something extra to grab onto, mostly because of my size. I need to know she can take all of me. There’s no doubt in my mind this incredible girl can handle every last centimeter.