by Dawn Ryder
Neither were the pants she’d spent the night making.
Horror flashed through her, raising her hackles. She forced herself to take a breath and take a second look.
Nope. No pants hanging on the rolling rack where she’d put them.
Instead, there was a scattering of women’s clothing, empty beer bottles, and torn-up pieces of leather. The pants Ramsey had been wearing were on the floor, torn beyond repair.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Ramsey’s voice sounded off in the hallway. Kate turned and caught sight of the rocker by the elevators. He was French-kissing a blond woman who was in the elevator. The doors started to close, and he pulled his head back. Kate gained just a glimpse of the girl as she waved good-bye, but it was long enough to see that she was wearing the pants she’d made for Syon.
“Stop!”
Ramsey flipped around, but the doors shut.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Kate dove toward the control panel, slapping the button, but the car was gone.
“You got a hard-on for my date?” Ramsey asked.
“No, I want the pants I spent last night making back,” Kate snarled at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing letting her take my work?”
Ramsey flattened a hand over her mouth. “My head is splitting.”
Her eyes bulged, and she started to lift her knee. Ramsey jumped back, allowing her to see how many people had come out to watch.
Well, she wasn’t backing down. “You and your date tore through all of my work.”
“Easy now…”
Cid hooked her and crowded her through the doorway of some suite.
“See…here’s the thing,” the road manager said.
Kate shoved away from the guy, but he pushed her farther into the room.
The road manager pointed at her. “Image is key.” He stressed each word like she was some high school student sitting in the principal’s office.
“No kidding. That’s what I’m pissed off about. I spent all night making those pants,” she snapped.
“That’s why you weren’t at the show?” Syon’s voice was like a live current, stroking her senses.
Awakening her.
She looked past Cid, losing interest in the road manager. Syon had walked into the room, Ramsey and Taz on his heels. His hair was tousled, and his shirt hung open.
And he made her mouth water.
“You’re out of pants,” she answered. “Of course I was working. I needed that draping to start…”
A horrible thought occurred to her.
“Ramsey better not have screwed with my patterns.”
Cid waved her off. “Make some more. The publicity will be worth it.”
“And what kind of publicity will you get when your performers go on stage in their jock straps?” she demanded.
Cid’s expression tightened. “That’s your problem, and I’ll pack your ass out of here if you let it happen.”
He started to poke her in the chest with his finger. He went stumbling as Syon pushed him out of the way. “Keep your hands off her, Cid.”
“Then tell her to mind her mouth.”
“What the hell?” Kate demanded. “You’ve got security set up around the room where the instruments are, but not around my studio?”
Cid looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Your work doesn’t rate on that scale.”
“I don’t what?” She propped her hands on her hips. “You can find yourselves another leather artist if that’s where I rate.”
“Like hell,” Syon cut her off. He hooked her around her waist and pulled her away from Cid.
“Get the fuck out. Everyone.”
“I am not staying in here with you.”
She wasn’t sure why she was pissed, just that it hurt to see him. Uncertainty was eating her alive.
Ramsey made sure everyone else went out the door and closed it without a backward glance. It left her alone with Syon. Which hurt.
And that pissed her off.
She tossed her hair back and faced off with him. But that allowed her to lock gazes with him, and the moment she did, it felt like a spear went through her. He was so close. So within reach. She suddenly questioned why she was mad or if it was worth it.
That hurt her pride. She was folding, crumpling under the weight of her attraction for him.
“I worked all night on those pants.”
For him.
Syon had crossed his arms over his chest and stood watching her from behind a guarded expression.
“Cid’s attitude is…counterproductive,” she added.
She was struggling to dredge up professional language. Really struggling because all she wanted to do was cuss.
“He’s an asshole. It’s his job,” Syon said offhandedly, obviously not interested in the topic. His gaze cut into hers, something else on his mind.
She blinked at him, surprised by how easily he’d agreed with her. “Well doesn’t his job include not letting your wardrobe walk away on Ramsey’s party partners? I put my heart into my work.”
His expression cracked at last, his lips twitching into a genuine grin.
It confused her and frustrated her. She tossed her hands into the air. “Why are you grinning?”
He moved toward her, opening his arms. She recognized the intent in his eyes and instantly recoiled.
Ha! You mean you’re retreating.
Yeah, whatever worked. If he touched her, she’d lose track of the conversation. Her pride wasn’t willing to bend.
“We’re not done talking, Syon.”
He captured her, gathering her against his chest so her face was buried in the open front of his shirt. One breath, and she was struggling against a rush of pheromones.
“I heard what I needed,” he muttered against her hair.
She flattened her hands against his chest and failed to push, because she was too delighted to be in contact with his flesh again.
Had it been less than twenty-four hours?
It sure felt longer.
“I missed you.”
She froze.
“At the show. Thought you didn’t think it was important.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her head back so their gazes met. “It was sold out, and I missed you.”
“I wanted to…get the pants finished. The pair you have pinch.”
He scooped her off her feet and carried her backward. She had no idea where he was taking her and didn’t really care.
She was in his arms.
He sat her on a table, kicking a chair out of the way. He cupped her cheeks, gently rubbing them. “I wanted to sing to you.”
She gasped, something tearing inside her. His voice was thick with emotion, and her eyes grew glassy.
“I got caught up in my work.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you’re passionate.”
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
He made a low sound of agreement and slid his hands down to her cleavage. “A trait you love about me.”
“Maybe.” The word “love” was a little heavy. But everything about Syon was over the top. He was a study in extremes.
He lifted one eyebrow. “The lady requires proof.”
“I thought we were checking out.” It was a halfhearted attempt to maintain her sanity.
He popped the first latch on her corset top as one side of his mouth curved up roguishly. “The crew is still tearing down the stage. We can handle a late check-out charge.”
“But…” She suddenly noticed how many footsteps were moving around in the hallway outside the closed door. Other doors opening and closing. Conversations as the rest of the band and entourage made their way out of the hotel. “Everyone will know what we’re doing.”
“I hope so.” There was a blaze of determination in his eyes.
“Syon,” she admonished him, her cheeks feeling like they had caught fire. “I am not that kind of girl.”
She w
as working her way away from him, wiggling across the tabletop. He cupped her hips and slid her back, spreading her legs around his.
“I know.”
He caught the sides of her dress and pulled it up. “That’s part of it, though. I love knowing I push your buttons so hard you can’t resist me.” He stroked the outside of her thighs, sending ripples of sensation up her spine. “I love knowing it isn’t in your nature to give it up so easily. I want everyone to know I drive you that insane.”
“You sound so arrogant. So full of yourself.”
Territorial.
He caught her underwear and twisted it until it snapped. His eyes glittered with intent.
“Tell me you don’t like hearing me say that.” His tone was challenging.
He leaned down and drew in a deep breath. “Tell me you don’t like hearing me say that my cock is so hard I don’t fucking care who is waiting on us.”
She shivered, her insides clenching with need.
“I…I…oh shit.”
She leaned back as he tugged the ruined scrap of her underwear off her and tossed it aside.
“Brace your hands behind you.”
“Why?”
His lips twitched menacingly. “Because I want to see you waiting for me.”
Her belly did a flip as excitement tore through her. She braced her hands behind her, intensely aware of how easily he’d reduced her to a quivering mass of need. He hovered over her, his breath hitting her lips and making her tremble.
“And I love smelling how wet I make you.”
Her lips parted as she gasped. A soft, desperate, betraying sound. “I hate how easily you undermine me.”
Her heart was on display now. Wide open for the wounding.
“I hate how bad it hurt not to see you there last night.”
“I—”
He cut her off with a kiss that stole her breath. It was softly seeking at first. Slipping and sliding across her mouth as he licked and teased her lips with his. He cupped her cheeks, holding her head softly as the kiss continued.
Tender.
But so hot, it felt like her core was melting. She sat up and pushed the open shirt over his shoulders, needing more contact with his bare flesh.
He shrugged out of it and opened his fly, earning a soft sound of appreciation from her as he pulled his length into view.
“Back,” he ordered.
She hesitated.
One of his eyebrows rose. “Lean back and wait for me to touch you, baby.”
“I’ve never been one for dominance games.”
“I’m not playing games,” he said. “I’m going to tease you.”
He pumped his hand along his cock. He was so hard the veins stood out along its length. Anticipation pulsed through her. She leaned back, curious about what he had planned.
“Now open your legs.” His tone was sin incarnate, beckoning her closer to whatever he wanted to do with her. “Show me your pussy, Kate. I want to see if it’s glistening.”
It took more effort than she’d anticipated to do as he commanded.
Shit. He is commanding me.
Her pride reared its head but her logic shot down the protest. She liked his demand. It made her feel more desired, more attractive than she had ever felt before.
“Beautiful,” he offered as she opened her legs.
He stepped forward between her legs. He grasped each of her heels and set her feet on the table. The position bent her knees up, and he cupped them, pulling them even farther apart.
But what she was focused on was how close his cock was to her slit. It was an unbearable bit of information, tormenting her with just how much she wanted him inside her.
“Fuck me.” She was done waiting.
“With this?” He gripped his cock again. “Or these?”
He released his cock and stroked her open sex with two fingers. She yelped when he glided across her clit. He chuckled.
“With your cock.” She was breathing hard, making speech a challenge. “Deep…and hard.”
“An interesting proposal.”
He teased her clit with the head of his cock, slipping it through the fluid coating her folds. She arched back, surrendering to the storm of need. It was even more intense when she just let go. Let every thought slip out of her mind in favor of enjoying the sensation the connection of their flesh produced.
It was off the scale, mind-blowing. Pride, sense of self didn’t come into it. She folded into the sensation, becoming part of it.
He cupped her hips, bringing her closer as he slid into her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him toward her as he sank farther.
“Hard and fast?” he questioned, burying himself so deep she felt his balls against her butt cheeks.
She opened her eyes and shot him a challenging look. “Try to impress me, if you can.”
A savage light brightened his eyes. His cock twitched inside her, making her eyes close as she hummed with pleasure.
“Uggh…” he growled, pumping two hard, fast thrusts into her.
She moaned, matching him, straining toward each thrust, groaning when he penetrated all the way.
“Too hard?”
He’d caught her nape, lifting her head back up so he could see her expression. His was savage. She was mesmerized by it, by the sheer lack of boundaries. He was sweating, his jaw tight as he struggled to hold back his desire.
“Kate?”
“Harder,” she demanded, tightening her legs and lifting herself off the table to take his next thrust.
His fingers tightened on her neck. “I don’t want to…”
“Let go?” she finished for him. “Completely?” She reached out and drew her fingernails down his chest. “I want you to. I don’t want to be alone either.”
Her voice was sultry and demanding. “Harder,” she insisted, straining toward him. Her thighs ached from the way she was lifting her body off the table, but the burn mixed well with the hard motion of his hips.
He jerked and grabbed her hips, holding her in place as he hammered off another round of thrusts.
“Is that all you’ve got?” She had no idea why she was saying what she was, only that it fed the tension coiling inside her gut. All of the frustration and uncertainty was combining to make her bitchy, and the bitch inside her craved satisfaction. “More!”
His lips split and curled back. It was savage and hard, just like the rest of him.
She purred with approval.
The table was rocking, groaning, but she didn’t give a shit if it collapsed. Syon ground into her, working his body. They were both gasping, straining toward each other, demanding satisfaction.
When it came, it burst inside her like a grenade, blowing everything to bits in an instant of white-hot insanity. She never knew what hit her, could only ride the shock wave as it rolled her into oblivion.
Syon cussed as he came. “Shit! Goddamnit…fuck. Fuck, fuck.”
He ended up catching his weight on his hands, his head resting on her chest. They were both panting, the silence in the room deafening as they let their heart rates slow down.
“Fuck,” he said again, this time with a touch of guilt. He lifted his head and slid his hand along her cheek. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head, suddenly shy. Had she really just done that? Had dirty, hard sex? She tried to look away, but he kept her head in place, his gaze boring into hers.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the way you get under my skin either, Kate.”
It was the same thing she’d been thinking. He pulled free with another groan and arched to stretch his back.
“I need a shower after that,” Kate said.
He grinned at her and wiped his hand through the sweat on his forehead, pushing it up into his hair. “You’re a demanding one.”
She hopped off the table. “Well, if you can’t keep up…”
He swatted her on her butt. Her dress had fallen back down, but she jumped and ran toward the bathroom.
The best part was Syon was hot on her tail.
* * *
Ramsey caught her arm when she made it back into the hallway. All traces of his hangover were gone. She stared at him for a moment, impressed.
“I was drunk,” he offered, “and being stupid last night.”
“Could only wingman one of you,” Taz said as he passed by. “Couldn’t risk Syon’s cords. You can play with a cold.”
“Wingman?” Kate asked.
Taz stopped and offered her a shrug. “Yeah. One of us always stays sober. In case we need to keep one of us from doing something stupid.”
“Taz was covering my butt last night,” Syon explained. “Rams slipped the leash.”
“Like I said, I was being stupid,” Ramsey said. “I wasn’t that drunk.”
Drake spoke up. “I didn’t think you were, or I would have stuck on your tail.”
“Won’t happen again,” Ramsey finished. “The messing with your studio part, anyway.” He sent her a wink and a satisfied smirk that had his band buddies rolling their eyes.
“Thanks.”
Kate caught herself looking at the members of Toxsin in a completely new light. They were serious musicians and devoted to one another. But they’d made it a priority to talk to her together.
That rocked.
Cid whistled from the end of the hallway. “Let’s load and roll!”
She bristled at the sound of the road manager’s voice. Syon hooked an arm around her back and massaged the tight muscles of her nape. He leaned in and kissed her temple. “Someone has to be the detail stickler, ’cause I don’t want the job. It might take up all my free time.”
She cut him a side glance. “Well, I suppose I could see benefits to you having free time.”
* * *
Her phone rang somewhere between Oregon and Washington. Kate sat up and missed the ceiling of the bunk by about an inch. The bus was rolling smoothly along, the sun setting outside the window.
“Hello?”
“Sweetie!” Percy drawled on the other end of the line.
Kate crawled out of the bunk, grinning. “Hey, sorry I haven’t called.” She had to brace herself against the vibration of the bus.
Percy brushed her apology aside. “Don’t worry about it. I know I would have kept my mind on my clients, if I were there. And my eyes and hands if they’d let me.”
She blushed beet red. “I bet you would.”