by Dawn Ryder
Her jaw dropped. Then she took a swing at him. She never landed the slap, at least not on his face. Syon raised his forearm to block, and she ended up hitting nothing but hard muscle, leaving her hand stinging.
“Asshole!” she snarled. “I am NOT a whore.”
“Everyone”—he stuck a thick finger out toward her—“everyone wants something from me. You’re no different.”
His eyes were lit with a jaded conviction that sickened her. No one should be so certain they were being used by everyone around them. It doused the flames of her temper, leaving her miserable. They really lived in different worlds. His wasn’t any more perfect than her own.
“I’m sorry.”
He stiffened, drawing back as their gazes connected. A guarded look appeared in his eyes before he shrugged, pulling his flippant sex-god side back up to cover his momentary vulnerability.
“Don’t be. My life rocks,” he informed her. “I don’t need you or your pity. Just your leather skills.”
“Well, I’m glad we got that clear between us.” Her pride was stinging, but there was no way she was going to let him see it. She turned around and started down the hallway, blurry eyed and pissed. Fortunately, she found the room number written on the little paper envelope her key card was in only a few doors down. She slid the key card into the lock and pushed her way into the room.
The air-conditioning was droning away, soothing her flushed cheeks. Her bags were already on the luggage racks. It was a lavish bedroom, with a separate sitting area. But she didn’t have any will to appreciate it.
* * *
Syon slammed into the suite his bandmates were partying in. There was already a scattering of clothing on the floor. He unzipped his jacket and shrugged out of it, flinging it aside to join the mess.
“The Marquis!” a feminine voice cooed.
He turned to find a topless brunette greeting him with a bright smile. Her bare breasts bounced as she approached him, but all he felt snaking through his gut was revulsion.
What the fuck? Since when wasn’t he interested in a pair of good tits?
Since he met Kate.
“You’re so fucking hot!” she squealed. “I bet your cock is gorgeous…”
She reached for his fly, and he stepped back.
Shit!
Ramsey looked up from where a blond was sucking his dick. He was leaning back in a plush armchair with the chick kneeling between his spread thighs, but his attention was completely on Syon. The chick meant nothing to him but a moment of entertainment. That doubled the feeling twisting Syon’s insides.
He shook his head and turned to leave.
“Hold on, sweetie,” Ramsey said.
Ramsey caught him in the hallway, completely unabashed to be stuffing his erect cock back into his pants. “What’s up with you, bro?”
“Nothing,” Syon barked. “I’m just not in the mood.”
“You’re in the mood,” Ramsey argued. “So why the hell aren’t you between Kate’s thighs?”
Syon growled. “She’s making sure I know she’s a team member.”
“Yeah, and she had her hands all over you about an hour ago, so what’s the problem?” Ramsey demanded.
“Apparently I am!” Syon slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a hole in the drywall. He stared guiltily at the damage. “I’m a dumbass tonight, Rams. Forget I exist.”
“No fucking way.” Ramsey reached out and grabbed a handful of Syon’s shirt to keep him from stomping away. “Let me have Cid pack her ass out of here. We don’t need this kind of tension. We’ve got a ton of our assets tied up in this tour.”
“That’s why she has to stay. We can’t look like shitfaced amateurs.” Syon shook off Ramsey’s hold. “I checked her out. She does mind-blowing custom work. My pants don’t fit right because I couldn’t get worked up enough in front of the other guy.” He snorted and shot his buddy a hard look. “That won’t be a problem with Kate for sure.”
Ramsey gave a grudging nod. “Fine, get your ass back in that suite and fuck it out of your system. We’ve got plenty of pussy to go around. And tomorrow, Kate can be a team member. You can let her measure the boner she’s too prissy to ride.”
Syon looked at the door but shook his head. He wasn’t even sure he’d decided to decline the offer; there was only pure reaction, and it sent him away from the excess going on in the suite.
“I’m going to…write something,” he said.
Syon stormed down the hallway to his own room and shut the door behind him. His guitar was set up again in the corner of the suite, the sofa pushed aside to make room for his practice area. His cock was throbbing, and he was pissed as hell. Without a second thought, he turned up the amps and played out his frustrations, making the strings squeal and ping.
But when his anger settled into something deeper, he began to make notes and put them together into something that made his blood pulse.
Relationship?
He didn’t have to do relationships.
In fact, it was a whole lot brighter of him to avoid them. Success was a cruel little bitch in that she twisted everyone around him into leeches. No one came to him without a plan to get something out of him. His bandmates were the only exception.
He needed Kate to cover his ass; that was all.
He refused to let it be anything else.
* * *
She needed earplugs.
Syon was playing. Kate was sure of it. There was something about his rhythm that she recognized, even though she didn’t know the tune. Her memory offered a perfect recollection of what his fingers looked like when he was playing, and her clit throbbed in response.
When he finally stopped, her mouth went dry. Her body felt on edge even though there was no reason to think he’d come looking for her again.
Ha! You screwed that opportunity!
Actually, she wished she had screwed it, literally. Maybe she’d be getting some sleep if she had.
Yeah, but sunrise would have been a bitch to face.
She growled and punched her pillow.
Someone’s squeal pierced the hallway. “Come and get me!”
There were pounding footsteps and then a thud against the wall that shook her door. The girl laughed loudly as someone growled, and there was another rattle from her door.
“Oh yes! Fuck me!” the girl shouted, and the door began to shake in a very recognizable rhythm. “Harder… Harder!”
Was it Syon?
Would he be that big of a jerk?
You don’t have a right to be mad about it.
But she was.
“It’s so good! Ramsey!”
Kate buried her head beneath her pillow and screamed. She didn’t have the right to feel relieved either.
But she did.
* * *
Kate rubbed her eyes and waited for coffee to brew in her little kitchenette. The scent of java helped improve her mood as she marveled at Toxsin’s ability to party. The noise hadn’t died down until well after four.
She was going to have to do more sleeping on that tour bus.
You need to stop caring. He’s a rock star.
It was well after noon when she made her way to where her shop was set up. The Toxsin crew knew what they were doing. Her machines were assembled in an easily accessible fleet, every case opened so she could see into it. Even her cutting table was ready. Racks of costumes stood around the room, each with a band member’s name marked on it. The scent of leather was familiar, easing some of the tension from her neck.
At least this part of the deal she knew she could handle.
And do it really fucking well.
Someone rapped on the door, and she turned around to see one of the black-polo-shirted crew members standing there with one of those pigtail earphones stuck in his right ear.
“Do you need anything, Ms. Napier?”
“Well…” She scanned the room again. “Actually, I need to drape out the members of the band. Not all today, but if any of them
have time…I’ll start there. Mr. Braden is a priority.”
He reached down to press the button on the little microphone clipped to his shirt collar and relayed her instructions.
She turned back around and started taking inventory.
“You’ve got one coming down,” polo-shirt guy said. “They have a sound check in an hour.”
“That’s plenty of time,” Kate assured him, biting back a question. She’d know soon enough who was going to come through the door.
She’d thought Syon was the one she couldn’t really deal with, but Ramsey stalked into the suite and sent her look that made her blood boil.
He was spoiling for a showdown.
The problem was, so was she.
Professionalism…
“Thank you for coming. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”
No, not too much time at all, because the sooner her task was finished, the sooner she could stop holding her breath. She reached for a bolt of muslin and tore off two pieces to begin draping him so she would have a perfect pattern tailored to his specific measurements.
Ramsey grunted, and she caught the hint of a warning in his eyes. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it on the cutting table, presenting her with his bare chest. She ignored the urge to scan the perfection and started by pinning the fabric at his waist.
A half hour of total, awkward silence later, and Kate took the patterns off Ramsey.
“All done,” she said.
Ramsey gave her one last acerbic glare and turned to leave without another word. Her temper got the better of her as he was shrugging back into his jacket.
“Okay, explain your problem with me.” Kate pushed some hair that had worked its way free of her clip out of her face, and glared back at Ramsey.
“Don’t have a problem with you,” he blew her off and continued toward the door.
“Bullshit.” Kate tossed the mock-up over the back of her chair and stepped into his path. “I thought it was just me throwing off the all-boy vibe, but I’m dangerously close to thinking there’s more to it than that.” She stepped aside. “By all means, take off and prove you’re nothing but a prick who’s worried I’m going to somehow stand in the way of you scoring tonight.”
He jutted out his chin, started to shake his head, but stopped. She could see the indecision in his dark eyes. He ended up crossing his arms over his chest and sitting on the edge of her cutting table.
“Syon means a lot to me. A fucking hell of a lot, and he’s got it bad for you, but you…” His eyes flashed. “You don’t think he’s good enough. That’s what’s pissing me off. He’s going to get his heart shredded by your holier-than-thou ’tude.”
Ramsey considered her. “You’re not the first bitch who looked down her nose at him or me. So don’t expect me to kiss your ass because you don’t like my attitude or the way I live my life. It pisses me the fuck off to see you disapproving of the way my best friend spends his free time. He’s walked through fire to be what he is today and doesn’t owe you shit.”
He started to walk away. Kate lunged after him and hooked his arm. He jumped and turned around to snarl at her.
“You’ve had your say, now it’s my turn,” she informed him.
“Is that right?”
“It is,” Kate snapped. “For the record, I didn’t say Syon wasn’t good enough for me.”
Ramsey snorted.
“What I question is how healthy this environment is for a relationship.” She pointed in the direction of the hallway. “Do you even remember the names of the girls passed out in your bed or wherever you left them?”
Ramsey shook his head without a shred of remorse. “Most of them don’t want me to. They want a buzz and a mind-blowing experience, and they sure as shit don’t want it to follow them back to their nice, respectable lives. You know what I’ve got down the hall? One’s a school teacher. She’s getting married next summer.”
“She told you that?” Kate asked incredulously.
“No.” Ramsey reached for his jacket and pulled three cell phones out of the inside pocket. “I found that little tidbit right…here.” He dangled a smartphone from his fingers. “I was trained to disarm complex programs. These little civilian devices are a piece of cake for me.”
“You hacked their phones? What’s wrong with you?” She paused as his words sank in. “You should tell her fiancé.”
Ramsey only shrugged and slid the phone back into the jacket pocket. “It’s not my shit-pile life. She might even make a good wife, now that she can enjoy her memory of fucking a rock star when hubby can’t go down on her worth crap.”
“That is so messed up, Ramsey. She’s got no right to use you like that.”
“I used her too.”
He was trying to blow it off, but Kate wasn’t buying it. She could see the pain in his eyes. He changed the subject.
“Syon hasn’t touched another woman since he saw you.”
She failed to hide just how much she appreciated hearing that. A little bubble of happiness just rose in her chest and sat there, glowing. Even the knowledge that the time frame under discussion was a whole two days didn’t dampen her joy. Ramsey bit something back after reading her emotions off her face.
“Just…understand this. We spent years playing together before our parents decided to ship us off to the military so we would grow up and lose our adolescent dreams of playing in a band. It turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to us, but this is what we are.” He opened his arms wide. “It’s the fire that’s been in our bellies since we were eight years old. I’m sick of seeing Syon torn between what he loves and his damned desire to please the rest of the world.”
“You’re sick of being judged,” she said as understanding dawned. It was a painfully clear sunrise too. Success didn’t promise happiness, even on the level Toxsin was experiencing it.
Ramsey’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about me.”
“Yes it is.”
He shook his head, but Kate reached up and cupped his cheek to stop him.
“It’s about you because of the connection you share with Syon.”
Ramsey lifted his chin to sever the contact. “He’s the only family I have, since my blood thinks I’m infecting the youth of America with Satan’s plots…or some shit like that.”
He turned and started stalking toward the door.
“I’ve worked my ass off for what I have too, Ramsey.”
He froze. She watched him fight the urge to turn around and fail. He faced her with a grudging expression.
“Professionalism is the foundation of my business.” She spoke quietly. “Jumping my clients doesn’t fit that image. My reputation is all I have. If you guys trash my performance on this tour, everyone who works for me will suffer. I’ve got a damned good reason to think before acting. Syon made this my workplace. So…I have to hold on to my professionalism.”
He studied her for a long moment. She could see his outer shell cracking, granting her a glimpse of the wounded soul behind his public persona. His lips twitched, just a bit, into a genuine grin. “I’m beginning to see why Syon is fascinated with you.”
“Huh?” Confusion stole her composure as Ramsey strolled back toward her with that sexy prowl of his. She tipped her head back to maintain eye contact and didn’t care for the feeling of exposure that washed through her.
“You have integrity.” He reached out and tapped her on the lips with his index finger.
Kate jumped back, feeling like a live wire had touched her.
Ramsey laughed, low and deep. “That’s sexy. Really sexy. Sucks that you prefer Syon.”
“Yeah, I heard how pitiful your night was as you longed for my company.”
He smiled before moving back toward the door and knocking on the drywall. “It’s not that thin.” His eyes flashed. “What can I say? I do a fantastic job at everything.”
Kate groaned and pointed him toward the hallway. “I’ve got all I need from you, than
ks.”
He licked his lower lip. “No, you’re still hungry.”
She raised her voice. “Bye!”
He chuckled knowingly at her before disappearing into the hallway.
She was going to be insane by the end of the tour.
Chapter 3
Syon was avoiding her.
It really pissed her off.
Liar… It stings.
Well, that too.
The other members of Toxsin had come by her suite for fittings, but Cid showed up with Syon’s missing-crotch pants instead of the singer.
“Pull a pattern off these.”
The road manager tossed the garment at her. She caught it but dropped them on the chair next to her. “I don’t clone. I do my own work. Always. I need a fitting.”
Cid was close to fifty by her guess but hiding it extremely well. His body was toned and fit, and only a hint of gray was visible where his hair had grown out at its roots. He fixed her with a hard look.
“You’re here to work on our schedule. Mr. Braden hasn’t had time for a fitting. In case you missed it, he’s a celebrity.”
“My work is custom.” Kate pointed at the two pairs of partially completed pants hanging on a rack, waiting for fittings. “If Syon wants a pair of pants that fit, I need him down here.”
She needed his ass and his hard-on, but she was avoiding thinking about the particulars.
Cid didn’t like her tone. Something slithered through her that left a very unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth. She realized she was getting a glimpse of what it was like to ruffle the feathers of those who considered Syon their bread and butter. If Syon told Cid to be a dick to her, he would without getting a single hair out of place. Cid knew who was signing the paychecks and didn’t give a shit about how many feelings got hurt while he was ensuring his meal ticket. Toxsin was bringing in big money, and that meant there were going to be big sharks swimming in the tank. No one was on tour who didn’t know when to abandon fair play.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
The road manager left with an air of importance and no hint of remorse in his expression.
She should have dived back into the work she had.