Rock Me Two Times

by Dawn Ryder

Should have, but she walked across the suite and glared out at the San Francisco skyline instead. The sun had gone down hours ago, but the city was far from sleepy. There was a buzz and pulse that she could feel through the double-paned glass windows. Traffic was flowing below her, people thick on the sidewalks. Cafés were open, catering to the night crowd. It seemed too dedicated to spend the night working for someone who couldn’t be bothered to make time for a fitting.

  Okay, she was miffed that she didn’t rate high enough for an hour of his time.

  Kate shook off her grumpiness.

  Syon had gotten his eight hours out of her. So it was quitting time.

  She picked up her phone and trolled through Facebook and a couple of travel sites to see what the city offered for night entertainment. Surely there was a local hot spot somewhere close with a band or signature dinner dish that she could enjoy.

  Her phone chirped. It startled her, but she grinned when she recognized the name of one of her Bay Area clients. His name was Clarence O’Malley, but it was a whole lot safer to call him by his preferred nickname.

  “Hello, Conan.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the Bay Area?”

  Kate smiled, feeling ridiculously rescued. “It was last minute. Um…how’d you know?”

  “You’re logged into Facebook, with the location app. You’re too cute to have that turned on, you know. Someone like me might use it to stalk you,” Conan said.

  “Um…yeah.”

  Conan chuckled on the other end of the line. “You doubt my badass-ness?”

  Kate laughed and reached back to rub her neck. “Never. Just your level of desperation to resort to stalking. Last time I checked, you had a small harem.”

  “Maybe. Get down to the lobby.”

  “You’re here?” she asked incredulously.

  “Yeah, I drive my ass down to your end of the state because no one can sew leather like you. Just shut up the shop. Let’s grab a cold one and get some chow. Got a couple of guys I’d love to introduce you to. Can’t wait to tell them you were in my pants while you’re sitting close enough for them to see how hot you are.”

  And that was why he liked to be called Conan. He claimed to be a barbarian at heart. Which made him just interesting enough to be fun.

  “You’re on,” Kate said.

  She wasn’t going to hang around waiting for Syon. She’d put in a full day. If she was going to be on tour, she might as well enjoy the sights a little. She could catch up on her sleep on the road.

  She swung around and took a moment to run a brush through her hair and apply a fresh coat of lipstick. The elevators were express ones, and a few moments later, she was striding through the polished marble floors of the lobby. Conan had pulled up on a chopper. The doormen were eyeing him as security eased closer.

  Not that she blamed them. Conan was rather typical as far as her clients went. His shaved head had a tattooed skull on the back, and his forearms sported more ink. He had a huge, square-cut jaw, and his nose bore the evidence of being broken. When he grinned, one full gold crown winked at the suit-clad security men watching him. The only way he wasn’t typical was in the fact that he ran a very lucrative business. The bodyguards edging in on him would have been surprised to discover themselves dealing with a man who could afford to rent out one of the exclusive penthouse suites. Ripped jeans and all. The guy owned several Armani suits, but needed to be beaten half to death before putting one on.

  He revved the chopper and whistled when he spotted her. Kate swung the shoulder strap of her bag over herself, cross body.

  She reached out and steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder before lifting her leg to get on behind him. There was a roar as Toxsin pulled into the half-circle drive, taking control of the space completely. Conan turned his head to admire the chrome work on the Harleys. Kate slid her leg along his back.

  “What the fuck?” Syon ripped off his shades. “Get the hell off that chopper, Kate!”

  She wasn’t completely on the back of the bike yet. Surprise kept her frozen. Syon threw his helmet and launched himself off his Harley.

  “Know this dude?” Conan asked her, his attention on Syon. There was a clink as he kicked the stand into place. “His tone says he needs his ass kicked.”

  “That’s the only action you’re going to get tonight,” Syon growled.

  Conan was off the chopper the second Syon got close. Kate stumbled back as they faced off.

  “She’s not worth it.” Ramsey grabbed Syon by the shoulder and tried to pull him back. “If she’d rather be in his pants, let the bitch go.”

  “Oh, she’s been in my pants alright…real deep.”

  “Conan—” Kate protested.

  Syon’s growl cut her off as he took a swing at Conan. People screamed, and paparazzi moved in, their cameras rolling. Conan bared his teeth and launched himself into the fight. Syon snarled and went after him with blood lust on his face.

  “Stop it!” Kate skirted around the tail of the chopper and tried to lunge between them. Ramsey turned and hooked her around the waist. He dragged her out of the way and scooped her up when she tried to fight him. She got out only half a sound of protest before he dumped her into someone else’s arms.

  “Get her out of here.”

  “Wait…”

  Taz didn’t pay attention to her. He turned and carried her back up onto the curb.

  “Forget this shit.” She kicked her feet up and succeeded in getting one knee loose. She put her leg down and pushed out of Taz’s hold.

  Taz snorted and let her stand up. A second later he had her over his shoulder. There was still the sound of flesh hitting flesh behind her. She looked up as Taz hauled her through the front door of the hotel, to the delight of the paparazzi snapping pictures.

  “Put me the fuck down!” Kate yelled.

  Taz dumped her in an elevator but pushed her back into the corner as he jammed a key card into the slot. He stuck one finger out at her. “You can walk or I’ll carry you.”

  “Like hell you will.”

  The elevator jerked and started pulling them toward the top floor. “I want out of here. You guys are insane!”

  “Yeah, we are.” Taz shrugged.

  His nonchalant attitude left her frozen for a moment. It was long enough for them to make it to the penthouse. She dove out the door the second it started opening.

  She refused to work for crazy people.

  Percy would have to understand.

  She was inside her suite before she realized Taz had slid smoothly through the door behind her. She spun around and pointed at the door. “Get out.”

  He caught her wrist and jerked her arm around. She popped into position like a rag doll; one moment she was facing him, and the next he had her arm locked up in a martial arts move that made sweat pop out on her forehead. The pain was just enough to keep her from challenging him, because it was going to hurt like hell if she did. He pushed her toward the bed. There was the touch of something smooth against her wrist and a click before he released her.

  She looked down and realized he’d handcuffed her to the huge headboard.

  “What are you doing?”

  He’d retreated a few paces and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Making sure you’re here when Syon wants you. You two need to talk.”

  “Fuck what Syon wants.” She snarled and jerked on the handcuffs, but they held. “Unlock these.”

  Taz shook his head.

  “Are you some kind of idiot?” She jerked on the handcuffs again. “This is illegal.”

  “Did you have to take up with someone else so fast?” Taz looked disgusted. “Is this your idea of some sick game?”

  “What?” She shook her head, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

  “That dude.” Taz pointed out the window. “You cut Syon deep.”

  “Wrong.” The door hit the wall as Syon kicked it in. The handle punched right through the drywall with a dull sound. “I don’t give
a shit whose pants you’re hopping into.”

  “I made his leather pants,” she explained. “Conan’s jerking your chain, dumb ass.”

  And Syon had blood trickling down his chin.

  It froze her in place. Horror wrenched her gut and left her stuck between breaths. Nothing else mattered at all.

  Syon had gone still, his gaze locked with hers, one hand stopping in midswipe on that trickle of blood.

  “That makes sense.” Taz sounded surprised. “A lot of sense. ‘She’s been in my pants real deep…’” He started to laugh softly. “That dude totally got you.”

  “You too,” Kate said.

  Taz shrugged. “Yeah. Sorry if I hurt your shoulder.”

  “Get these cuffs off me,” she demanded.

  Syon reached out and pushed Taz toward the open door. It was still open, the doorknob stuck in the drywall.

  “They’re making up!” Taz yelled down the hallway. Drake and Ramsey must have come up. “She made that dude’s pants, that’s why she was in them.”

  “Like hell we’re making up,” she yelled after Taz. “Get your ass back in here with the key, Taz!”

  Taz stopped and tossed a key back; Syon caught it and yanked the door loose. Chunks of drywall dropped to the floor as he shoved it closed with a slam.

  “Are you done with him?”

  “Done with who?” She jerked on her hand again; this time the cuff bit into her wrist. “I swear, if you don’t unlock me…”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  He flipped the key over and fit it into the lock. He was too damned close again. The scent of his skin filled her senses. Just the brush of his fingers against her hand sent a little thrill through her.

  “You’re making me crazy.”

  She rubbed her wrist and glared at him. “That’s my line. Where the hell does Taz get off handcuffing me to the bed?”

  Syon’s eyes narrowed. “He won’t be getting off. Not with you.”

  “Like that’s any of your concern. Is Conan alright?”

  “Yeah. The dude can hold his own. Had to stop when the cops showed up.” He wiped the blood away, but a fresh trickle appeared. For some reason, the sight of it deflated her anger, which pissed her off again. Couldn’t she even be mad at the guy when he deserved it?

  “Shit. You have a show tomorrow night.”

  She rolled over the bed and came up on the other side.

  “So what?”

  Kate rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen. She yanked a plastic bag out of the cabinet and filled it with ice. “Put this on your jaw before you get a bruise.”

  She settled the bag against his jaw.

  “That’s what makeup is for.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, and the bag dropped.

  Syon buried his face in her hair instead. “All day I’ve been thinking about how you smell.”

  His words were muffled, but she still heard the low, raspy sound of need in his tone. It was like being shocked with a set of jumper cables. She flattened her hands on his chest and tried to push him back. “Really? Then why didn’t you show up for a fitting?”

  She hated how hurt she sounded, but the words were out of her mouth.

  He cupped her nape, pressing a kiss against her neck. It sent a tingle straight down to her toes. She squealed, struggling against his hold, feeling the tidal wave of arousal beginning to crash down on her.

  He let her go, and she bounced onto the bed.

  “That’s why.”

  She jumped up, her face flaming.

  “I tried to stay away because every time I get near you, all I want to do is lick you.” He threw his arms into the air. “You want me to do it too.”

  She had her mouth open to fire off a retort, but it died when he locked gazes with her. The world shifted again the second her eyes connected with his caramel ones. She did want him. Bad. She shifted, her clit feeling crushed inside her pants.

  “So I gave you some space and came back to find you on another dude’s bike.” He shook his head. “You’re fucking making me…jealous!”

  It was a strange compliment. Really strange, because he was pissed off. At least she thought he was, until she looked closer.

  Apparently, Syon was just as overwhelmed as she was. The need burning between them was so tangible, it interfered with everything else.

  There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, and it hit her straight in the heart.

  “What are you doing?”

  Kate rolled her eyes at him. “Taking my clothes off.”

  She popped the lace holding her corset top closed and untied the knot.

  “Why?” He wasn’t waiting for her answer but shrugged out of his leather jacket with a violence that strained the seams.

  A rush of cool air hit her overheated skin as she yanked the lace free, and the front of her top sagged open. Her thin top was transparent, allowing him to clearly see her nipples.

  “Because we’re too old to hold hands and smooch on the back of your bike while we work up the nerve to justify our actions and give in.”

  He groaned, his eyes narrowing and his jaw tightening. “I want to do that…later.”

  He tore off his shirt, and it ripped as he yanked it over his head. The sound hit her heightened senses, driving the heat up another few degrees. Getting out of her clothing was a necessity. She felt trapped by her pants, the leather too thick, too hot to tolerate.

  He was chiseled.

  And bulky with muscle.

  A fatal combination.

  She tore at her pants, knotting the lace with her clumsy fingers.

  “I want to do it,” he growled; then he scooped her off her feet and dropped her back onto the bed, savage enjoyment glittering in his eyes as she bounced in a jumble of limbs.

  “I haven’t stopped thinking about dragging these off you…”

  He captured her ankle and pressed a kiss against the inside of it. She gasped, arching her back as sensation took complete control of her. There was no thought, just writhing as he pulled her ankle boot off and dropped it.

  He chucked her other boot across the room. “I want to tear this leather off you like a Christmas present.”

  “Don’t”—the word got stuck in her mouth—“tear it.”

  She was panting, desperation twisting up her insides as he attacked the lace keeping her fly closed.

  He fought with the knot. “You need to start wearing skirts.”

  His lips split with a wide grin when the lace broke. He thrust his fingers into the fly, stroking across the sensitive skin of her lower belly.

  She freakin’ purred.

  The sound rising up from the contact between their skin swamped her, dragging her down and rolling her in pure enjoyment.

  “Yeah…I like that sound.”

  He plunged his hand in deep, reaching all the way to her mons. He teased his way through her curls before stroking her belly again.

  “Like it a whole hell of a lot.” He gripped the waistband of her pants and tugged it over her hips. She was so eager, she lifted her butt for him. She landed back on the bed as he pulled the garment down her thighs and past her ankles with a grunt of male satisfaction.

  “Perfect.”

  His gaze targeted her mons. The tip of his tongue slid over his lower lip as he reached out to finger the bikini briefs she had on. Expectation showed brightly in his eyes as he hooked the elastic waistband with his index finger and pulled it down to expose her.

  “Hot damn…ginger curls…”

  His tone made her shiver, anticipation punching her in the gut as he dragged her underwear down her legs and threw her panties across the room.

  “I fucking dreamed about seeing these…”

  He dropped to his knees, spreading her thighs.

  “Wait…”

  He looked up her body, searing her with the glint in his eyes. Her insides liquefied. The promise glowing those orbs set her clit throbbing at an insane rate.

  He moved his hand along her
inner thigh, stroking her, petting her with a touch that sent a little moan past her lips.

  “How long?”

  He had made his way to her hip, her clit begging for its turn to be under his fingers.

  But he pulled his hand down her leg, to her knee, and then back down in a slow caress to her hip again.

  “How long should I wait?”

  She jerked, her hips lifting, but he held her down with both hands on her thighs.

  “You smell so hot…”

  He was hovering over her spread body, his breath teasing her open slit.

  “So…sweet…” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against her belly, right above her mons.

  “Don’t…” Her voice was nothing but a rasp, speech darn near beyond her grasp. She just needed…needed to be touched. “Don’t…wait…”

  She curled up, reaching for his shoulders. She wasn’t close enough. He wasn’t close enough. She caught his shoulders and let out a little sound of victory. She used the grip to pull herself to the edge of the bed and flatten herself against his bare chest.

  The contact was catastrophic.

  Every bit of thought she had was laid to waste. There was nothing but a flood of sensation sweeping through her. She lifted her hips, certain she could climax by just grinding against the bulge still covered by his leather pants.

  “We’re not fucking rushing this.”

  He pushed her back down and held her there with his body. He was hard and heavy, and he hovered just an inch above her lips.

  “I’m going to eat you out.”

  “I can’t—”

  He shoved her protest back into her mouth with his, kissing her with a hard passion that broke something loose inside her. She arched and dug her nails into his shoulders, sucking his tongue and thrusting hers up to tangle with it.

  “Ah…yeah…claw me…”

  He surged up, arching his head back so she was staring at the corded muscles running up his neck. She pulled her hands down his arms, hesitant at first, but his chest vibrated with a growl of enjoyment.

  “Again,” he ordered her, pressing forward and making contact with her clit.

  “Oh…damn…”

  She was on the edge, a breath away from climax. Desperation made her crazy. She wrapped her legs around his body, pulling him against her as she reached up and raked her claws down him again.