by Dawn Ryder
Syon straightened up, looking disappointed before turning his head to see what she was looking at. “Fuck. Forgot about him.”
“You mean, you usually don’t worry about anyone watching.” She tried to push him away, becoming frustrated when he stood still, defying her efforts. “Because you’re pumped up, right? Sex in the hallway is no big deal around here. I get it.”
And it pissed her off, but for an entirely different reason than she’d anticipated having to face. She didn’t want him to be so shallow.
But he was.
“I really…really…can’t…” She was sputtering, losing it completely as disappointment stung her eyes with unshed tears. “I’ve never behaved so…slutty…”
“Don’t insult yourself.” He opened his hands and wiped away one of the tears. “I’m being an asshole.”
Syon caught her hand and started to lead her through the maze of hallways. He took her up a flight of stairs and then another before she recognized the landing port. Someone opened the door for them, and she saw the pilot sitting in the helicopter, waiting for her.
The landing lights were on, spilling over them as the ocean breeze blew through her loose hair. He reached out and smoothed it back, cradling the side of her head.
“I’m going to kiss you good-bye, Kate.”
“Okay.”
She wasn’t sure what she was saying, only that she wanted one last taste of him.
Syon didn’t disappoint her. He leaned down and closed his lips over hers. It was a sweet meeting of their mouths this time. He pressed short little kisses against her lips before deepening the pressure and slipping and sliding his way across her mouth. He massaged her head, sending little ripples of delight through her.
But he lifted his head away too soon.
Or maybe not soon enough.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Kate.”
He watched her climb aboard and stood there with the wind of the rotor fluttering the open sides of his vest while they lifted off the rooftop. Below him, the area surrounding the Staples Center was teeming with fans still pumped with energy. The restaurants surrounding the auditorium were filled to the brim, customers spilling out onto the pavement as music blared and alcohol flowed.
Syon Braden stood above them, looking like he belonged right there. Up high. Unreachable.
Yeah, rule number two. She needed to follow it, or she was going to have a long, hard fall when the god of music finished with her.
* * *
Ramsey walked out onto the roof as the helicopter headed off into the night. “I didn’t mean to screw it up for you.”
“You didn’t.” Syon sighed. “I don’t hide who I am from chicks.”
“Weren’t you even tempted?”
“Maybe this time.” Syon shot his buddy a smirk. “She needs to know who I am, or there are going to be hurt feelings. I’m not a complete asshole.”
Ramsey crossed his arms over his chest, which was bare except for an open black leather jacket that exposed his nipple piercing. “Yes, you are.”
“Takes one to know one,” Syon shot back at his bandmate.
Ramsey curled his hand into a fist and smacked it into his opposite palm, but Syon shook his head. “Save your energy for the girls,” Syon said, heading back into the building.
“Got some cuties up in the penthouse suite over at the Ritz,” Ramsey said. “Plenty to go around. Big tits, little tits… I think Drake might have brought a drag queen back, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise when the skirt drops. I’m betting his cool, crisp Brit demeanor will finally fail.”
Ramsey yanked open the door to the first of the SUVs waiting to take them to their after party. Syon slid in beside Ramsey and pulled the door closed.
“Keep poking Drake with a stick, and he’s going to kick your ass one of these nights,” Syon predicted.
“Can’t help it,” Ramsey replied. “He’s like Data from Star Trek. No emotions. Only, I’ve seen him bleed, so I know he’s human…hence…”
“You won’t stop dicking with him,” Syon finished off.
Ramsey nodded.
The interior of the SUV was decked out in party lights and long bench seats terminating at a minibar. Their music was playing. There was a sea of flashing cameras as they passed the press, but security staff did a good job of keeping them on the sidewalk so the driver could thread his way down the ramp and into traffic.
“You could have had the bird drop us off before taking her home,” Ramsey complained.
“I think she might have jumped out if we’d climbed in after her.”
Ramsey selected one of the single-serve bottles of whiskey and popped the top loose. “That would have given me an excuse to hold her down.”
Syon picked up another whiskey and toasted with it before taking a swig. “I’m looking forward to her sitting on top of me.”
Ramsey lowered his empty bottle and tossed it into a cup holder. “Looking forward?”
Syon nodded and took another slow sip of his drink.
“You’re actually plotting about how to get her?” Ramsey exclaimed, turning to stare at him. “Let the chick go. Those ladies don’t cross the tracks very well.”
Syon shrugged as they pulled up in front of the Ritz. There was a mob of fans waiting, cameras going off the moment they stepped out. Ramsey reached out, stroking some of the hands thrust toward him. Girls squealed and did their best to snatch a feel of his bare chest. One leaned all the way forward and pulled her top down. Ramsey took a good long look before offering her his hand. The security men holding the mob back let her duck beneath their spread arms. She nestled up against Ramsey with a huge smile on her lips.
Once inside, they made their way to an open elevator and punched the button for the top floor.
“Oh my God!” Ramsey’s new pet gushed. “I so can’t believe I’m here!”
“Are we sharing?” Ramsey asked Syon over the top of her blond head.
“Sharing?” The girl squealed again, louder. “Oh. My. God! I gotta text everyone!”
Ramsey grabbed the phone the girl pulled out of her purse, earning a squawk of frustration from his newest plaything. He cupped her chin and fixed her with his best attempt at a serious expression.
“Here’s the thing, sweetheart. No phone, and I’ll make sure you don’t have any time to miss your cyber buddies.”
“Alright,” she cooed.
Ramsey tucked the phone into the inside pocket of his leather jacket before the girl turned to give Syon a naughty look. She reached for his open vest, boldly running her fingers down his chest.
He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips before handing it off to Ramsey.
“Really, dude?” The elevator chimed as it arrived, and the doors slid open.
Syon offered him a two-finger mock salute before striding down the hallway away from the blaring music. There was no missing where the other members of the band were partying, but he turned and went down the hall toward his room and slid his key card into the door.
“Wait up, Syon,” Ramsey called. “I’ll be right back,” he said close to the girl’s ear as he opened the door and the music poured out like a tidal wave. He swatted the girl on her backside, and she giggled as she jumped forward to join the after-concert excess.
Ramsey made it down the hall just before Syon’s door closed all the way, bouncing it off his shoulder and pushing his way into the room.
“Fuck,” Ramsey growled. “You on the rag or something?”
Syon went toward the vanity where his makeup remover was already laid out.
“Orgies get old after about two hundred of them,” Syon answered.
“Like hell they do.” Ramsey opened the fridge and selected a beer. “She really got to you. Un-fucking-believable.” He yanked the cap off and took a long drink. “Is your pride really that tender? So she turned you down. There’s plenty of tail for the asking.”
“I want to see her again,” Syon said. “And it’s Kate. Her name is
Kate.”
Ramsey started to say something, but he snapped his jaw shut, leaned back against the wall, and took another drink from his beer. Syon sat down and began yanking off one of his boots.
“Whatever,” Ramsey said at last. “The last time you got hung up on a girl, you wrote ‘Insatiable Craving,’ so go chase her ass for all I care. Just don’t forget I warned you where it was heading.”
Syon dropped his second boot onto the floor. “I think you just said it would take us to another double platinum record, so quit whining.”
Ramsey still hesitated before pushing himself away from the wall. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I said. Come on down if you change your mind.”
Ramsey stopped with his hand on the door. “Why are you such a romantic?”
“I said I wanted to see her again, not hit my knee and propose,” Syon shot back. “Sometimes, I even get to know a girl’s middle name before I take her to bed. You might try it once in a while. You know, to shake things up.”
Ramsey snorted. “We’ve got everything we ever wanted, so don’t let some chick convince you you’re not happy.”
Syon leaned back and closed his eyes the moment the door closed behind Ramsey.
He should go blow his load.
Find someone that looked like Kate and fuck her out of his system.
Instead, he removed his makeup and showered. The suite had three rooms, but Syon felt like a canned vegetable without a balcony. Most of the upscale hotels were going without balconies because of lawsuits over drunken falls. He could still hear the steady beat vibrating down the hallway from where the rest of the band was decompressing.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and wandered over to where his guitar had been set up. Only the bathroom light was on, letting him sink into the shadows as he fingered the strings, letting a melody flow from his mind to his fingers. The concert had taken the edge off his passion, allowing him enough patience to toy with a new rhythm.
* * *
“Overdosing on your sweet body sounds like a great idea.”
Kate growled and looked at her bedside clock…again. She needed sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, she heard Syon’s raspy voice. B.O.B. was sitting on her bedside table, charging away. She’d moved her trusty vibrator onto the table the moment she found out her boyfriend Todd had been two-timing her. She gave a little snort and turned over, because what she craved was hard, body-to-body contact. Bare skin, raspy breath—in short, the whole enchilada. B.O.B. couldn’t deliver that. The moment she closed her eyes, all she saw was the way Syon’s eyes had narrowed before he kissed her.
Damn, the man could kiss.
“Oh, God, yeah…run your claws down me.”
Maybe she should have, because she wouldn’t be getting a second opportunity.
Chapter 2
A Harley sat outside the costume shop the next morning. It was brand-new, the chrome shining in the morning sun. Kate paused for a moment to admire the custom work on the machine. It was definitely not factory specs.
Shit.
Sturgis was three weeks away. She didn’t have a second to spare for the boys who hadn’t gotten their orders in. But bikers didn’t tend to take “no” very well, and Percy would be the first one to run screaming, leaving her to face whatever growling grizzly bear of a disgruntled customer was waiting inside. The guy clearly had money and would expect a cut to the front of the line with a click of his checkbook pen. He wouldn’t want to hear that there were just so many hours in a day and she was maxed out. She took another swing of her coffee and squared her shoulders.
“Kate…darling…”
Kate froze on her way into the shop. She tugged off her sunglasses and leveled a hard look at Percy. He had a measuring tape draped around his neck and stood in the doorway between the machine shop and the cutting area.
He was beaming, smiling from ear to ear with his hazel eyes sparkling. Darling was worse than sweetie when it came to getting worked over by her partner. If there was an asshole in the shop¸ Percy wouldn’t be calling her darling. Nope. Darling meant Percy was licking whipped cream off his fingers and fully expecting her to join the party.
“I’m going home,” Kate declared preemptively. “I didn’t get enough sleep to deal with an ambush.”
Percy rubbed his hands together gleefully and walked up to her with an unmistakably giddy look in his eyes. He leaned in close, clasped her wrists with a death grip fueled by excitement, and whispered, “I could kiss you for being late. You’re too good to me.” He backed up and cleared his throat. “So I started the basic measurements, and you’re right on time to get going with design.”
“Design of what…?” Her jaw hung open as her gaze fell on the person leaning against the door frame behind Percy. Syon Braden was just as deadly without his makeup. More so. There was a raw power in his face.
And he was grinning with victory.
Total ambush!
“Mr. Braden—” Kate started.
“As I told Percy, call me Syon,” he drawled in a deep voice that sent a tingle through her.
Her partner shivered and rolled his eyes before turning around to face Syon. “You did.” Percy trotted off into the third room, which served as the office, leaving Kate facing Syon.
Starbucks was so not strong enough to help her deal with her morning. There was a charge in the air, setting her nerves on edge. It shouldn’t have been possible. The guy’s persona was just fucking huge.
“Come on in, everyone!” Percy called.
Syon crooked a finger at her, but there was nothing playful about it. He was arrogant and damned fucking proud of himself.
She abandoned her coffee cup and forced herself to stride forward with all confidence she could muster. Her system was going haywire again. The fatigue headache she’d woken up with—courtesy of Syon Braden—doing nothing to dull the impact of his presence.
Heat snaked through her, awakening her clit like she hadn’t gone three rounds with B.O.B.
She needed to stock up on batteries.
Syon was wearing a faded pair of jeans that looked extra yummy on him, and a button-down khaki shirt that complemented the lighter streaks in his hair. The spikes weren’t teased up as much today, but that just gave him a rakish appearance. She felt the attraction bleeding off him, growing stronger with every step she took. She was completely off balance having him here in her shop; he’d invaded her safe zone.
He knew it too. There was a look in his eyes that told her how much he enjoyed riling her.
Much as it unsettled and excited her, she knew exactly what he was doing. He was proving how much power he had, and it pissed her off.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when she was close enough to keep her words from traveling to Percy.
Syon pegged her with that intense gaze of his. “Chasing you.”
She stumbled past Syon through the doorway to the office, the gruff, sultry sound of his voice completely unhinging her thought process. There was a suspicious chuckle from behind her, but she couldn’t turn around to snap at Syon because Percy was watching.
No unprofessional behavior.
“Now, Kate, I’ve already spoken to Giles, and he’s on board with the whole thing,” Percy announced with a flourish of his hands.
Kate sat down in one of the chairs in front of Percy’s desk. Syon lowered his frame into another one. She cut him a sidelong glance—there were four chairs in the office, but he’d taken the one beside her.
Syon winked at her and pressed his lips into a silent kiss.
Her damned nipples puckered. She needed something a lot harder than Starbucks.
“When Mr—Syon called to confirm his appointment, I made sure to check with Giles so there wouldn’t be any tension over jumping his contract,” Percy continued.
“Giles is fine with you jumping me,” Syon said with a smirk.
Kate’s jaw dropped.
Percy let loose a peal of laughter. “You are so naughty.” He wagged a finge
r at Syon. “I love it, but I’m a married man.”
“Percy, could you fill in some of the details?” Kate asked as she steeled herself. Syon wasn’t a subtle sort of personality.
“Oh yes, sweetie…” Percy laid his hands flat on the desk as he leaned forward. “You’re going on tour as personal leather specialist to Toxsin.”
Words failed her.
Syon leaned on his armrest and looked at Kate. “I’m not the only member of the band running short on stage wear. We’re a little ignorant of what the wardrobe needs as far as maintenance. That’s where you come in. The band and I agreed it would be best if you joined us. That way, you can produce what we need, when we need it. No lag time.”
Kate’s eyes widened, and she started to shake her head. Percy made a low sound in the back of his throat as something crashed in the cutting room, followed by two more loud bangs and a shouted word of profanity.
“I’ll be right back.” Percy scurried out of the office.
“Bastard,” she bit out.
“Brilliant bastard,” he corrected.
Her mouth was hanging open again. “Don’t fuck with my life,” she sputtered. “Percy and I built this place from nothing. I don’t have time to be your groupie.”
His teasing expression evaporated. “You think I don’t understand having a dream? Or what sort of devotion it takes to turn it into reality?”
His tone was a slap in the face. Behind the sex appeal was a hard businessman. As in razor sharp. She drew in a stiff breath to calm herself. “Okay, you’re right. I’m insulting you without knowing anything about you, but you are messing with my life here. I have commitments, and if I piss off my customers, they won’t be back next year when you’re history.”
He absorbed her words, weighing them. “I only work with the best, and that’s you. I checked. You’ll do custom work for us that will get worldwide press. That will bring in new clients. Ones with enough money to keep you from working eighty hours a week for guys who want to trade you brake jobs for their pants.”
She had nothing to come back at him. He really had done his homework.