With the Band (With the Band #1)

by Natasha Preston

  Compared to the women he’s been with, I might as well not even know what a cock is. He’s probably used to women doing things to him that I can’t even pronounce.

  I subtly grip my stomach, feeling sick. Why do I do it to myself? There is never a need for me to think about Kitt with other women. Like ever. But I still do.

  “A million really?” I say sarcastically.

  “You doubt me?”

  No, not at all. That’s the problem.

  “No, I don’t doubt it, but I want you to list them and prove it, Casanova.”

  “You’ll only get embarrassed.”

  I glare and resist the urge to kick him. “I’m not five, Kitt. I do know what all the parts are and where they go.”

  He looks off ahead, and his mind goes somewhere. “Hmm, I guess that’s true.”

  “Do you think of me like a child?” I squeak out like an idiot before my brain engages and realises how desperate that sounded.

  “No, of course I don’t. I just haven’t ever thought about…” he mumbles, stopping right before he says what he means.

  I hate when he quits talking right when I want him to continue.

  “Oh my God, you’re uncomfortable, aren’t you?” I tease, elbowing his side.

  It really doesn’t bode well for me that he’s finding it so hard thinking about me and sex at the same time. Still, I enjoy his awkwardness. Small victories and all that. Plus, after last night, he must think about me in that way. The thought alone has my stomach flipping over.

  “Please, Tex, I’m not uncomfortable. If your dad could hear you now though…”

  “Why is my dad in your head right now?”

  Bloody hell, my father is constantly screwing me over where Kitt is concerned. If I were brave enough, I’d tell Dad how I felt about Kitt, but I couldn’t see him being thrilled and telling me to go for it.

  Kitt frowns, and his eyes look troubled or maybe grossed out. It’s hard to tell. “Good point. Take your top off, and we’ll rectify this.”

  “You first,” I blurt.

  It’s not like he’s going to get shirtless with me in my hotel room. He slaps Cooper on the back of the head for even joking about it. Although he did kiss the hell out of me on Christmas, and he got me off last night. He must want me a bit, right?

  I stare him in the eyes. There’s no way I’m going to back down and look like a child. I can give as good as I get.

  Kitt’s hand fists the bottom of his shirt, and he starts to pull it over his head.

  My heart lurches in surprise and excitement. “What are you doing?” I want this, obviously, but I didn’t think he would do it, and now, I’m scared he’ll make me.

  “You challenged me, Tex. Are you pussying out of your own dare?”

  “Yes! Are you crazy?” Oh God, please take your jeans off as well.

  He shrugs, and my attention is brought to his shoulder and arm. Those tattoos. I want to see them all. Now. I want to trace them with my tongue.

  “Is it crazy to follow through with a bet?”

  No. I’m the crazy one. I don’t think there’s any doubt about that.

  Jesus, my hands are shaking, and I think I’m going to throw up.

  With trembling fingers, I grip my top and take it off. Kitt’s eyes widen and hone in on my lace-covered breasts.

  He didn’t think I would do it, and I’m a bit shocked at myself, too.

  What am I doing? I don’t randomly take my top off, especially not for a bet.

  “Tex…what…” he mumbles, his eyes still glued on my chest.

  Thank God I’m wearing a nice bra rather than a boring plain one.

  “Oh, I’m going to burn in hell. I can’t…”

  The hunger in his eyes turns my insides to jelly. I want him so much that my body is throbbing.

  I clear my throat. “Are you okay?”

  He scrubs his eyes and finally looks at my face. “Wanna take a dare on you getting that bra off?”

  Tilting my head to the side, I reply sarcastically, “I would, but unfortunately, you’re not wearing one.”

  “Got a spare? I can quickly put one on and whip off.”

  It is the most tempting offer I’ve had in a long time. I want to do it because seeing Kitt in a bra would make my whole life, but then I would have to take mine off, and I’m so not doing that.

  When…or if Kitt ever sees me with nothing on, I don’t want it to be because of a bet.

  “I don’t think I could handle seeing you like that.”

  “Ah,” he says, nodding once. “Get too turned on?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”

  “So, is that a no to the bra coming off?” His voice is rougher than usual, kind of like he has a sore throat.

  Sexy as hell.

  I roll my eyes and shove his chest hard. Yeah, I did that just to feel that six-pack. This touchier, get-shirtless Kitt is definitely more fun, but I know it’s going to be over soon, and he’ll pretend it never happened.

  I need to remember that tonight is nothing but us messing around. Kitt is naturally flirty, and he does it with everything that has breasts. I’m not exaggerating.

  Whatever this is, I need to enjoy it. I feel like my time with Kitt is limited. Filthy Sound won’t always tour with Enigma. Soon, Kitt will be off all the time, rarely coming home. He might even move far away. LA seems to be the relocation of choice for celebs. It’d be cliché as fuck, but it could happen. Peyton did it.

  As much as it pains me to think about it, my friendship with Kitt has a sell-by date. Our connection is my dad’s band, and I’m scared that if the bands go their separate ways, Kitt won’t have a reason to see me again.

  Deep down, I know I’m being ridiculous. We’re friends, and we have been for a few years now, so we’ll probably stay in touch. Kitt is one of the few people I trust, but the music industry and fame can change a person. I’ve witnessed that multiple times.

  “Kitt, would you ever move to LA?” I blurt out before thinking.

  “What? Do you remember our last trip to the US? I couldn’t get beans with my breakfast, finding a decent tea was like looking for the meaning of life, and they put a mash of cream and milk in their coffee. I couldn’t live there.”

  His words soothe something inside me. Whatever happens, at least we’ll still be in the same country.

  “Why did you ask that, Tex?”

  I shrug and try to pretend like I wasn’t just holding my breath and panicking. At some point, I’m going to have to try to get over this thing with him, but it feels a lot like forever, and I have no idea how to deal with that without it exploding in my face.

  “No reason. It just seems to be the done thing with rock stars and other celebrities.”

  “You know I don’t like doing the done thing.”

  “Yeah, is that why you’re sitting here, half-naked, with me?”

  My dad gave a lot of warnings about any member of Filthy Sound messing around with me, and he was very graphic as he went into the consequences if that were to happen. Kitt is quite clearly choosing to ignore that because, right now, he’s breaking Dad’s rules big time. Again.

  Kitt’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “You’re different.”

  He makes me feel different, too, like I’m not just another woman to mess around with, like I’m special. Sometimes. Then, there are many, many occasions when he makes me feel like I’m falling into a bottomless black hole.

  At this moment, I feel like there’s no one else. I don’t want to hide my body away. He wants to see me, and I want him to as well.

  “How am I different?” I ask.

  “You’re not a game I’m playing, Tex.”

  Well, that’s good to hear. If he were just pushing the limits with me because he had a problem with following the rules, I’d lose it.

  “Then, what are you doing? Because this definitely wouldn’t be okay with my dad.”

  “I’m not looking to strip for your dad. Right now, I only care
about what you think…what you want.”

  “You’re asking what I want?” Best to not go there. “Are you going to regret this in the morning, Kitt?”

  “Regret? No. Will I feel guilty as hell when I look him in the eyes tomorrow? Yes. But remembering one major detail makes it easier.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re an adult, and you’ll never be a one-night stand.”

  Bloody hell. My lungs deflate—in a good way.

  If we did this, it’d be the start of something. It’s dangerous to think about more with him. It could end so badly for me. I should be smart and think it through. But I can’t. When I’m around him, there is no thinking, no logic, and no consequences. It’s a bad combination, and I know I should stop.

  But with Kitt, I can never stop.

  TEXAS

  FRIDAY, MAY 8

  PARIS, FRANCE

  The morning before a show is a chilled one, which is good because I’m so tired that I feel like my eyes are bleeding.

  Last night, Kitt and I stayed up until four a.m. We fell asleep on my sofa. No funny business happened. It was nice. Thankfully, we were up in time to get back on the bus. We’ll be at a different location in Paris tomorrow, so we checked out of the hotel, and now, we’re heading to tonight’s venue.

  There’s a lot to do throughout the day to prepare, especially since Enigma and Filthy Sound like to have a hand in everything, but the mornings are for eating good food and drinking your own body weight in coffee.

  As the tour goes on, it’ll be harder to get them all up, but I do it every time. While we’re all together, it’s not always easy to spend quality time when about a hundred things are happening all at once.

  I turn the bacon and sausages, bumping along to Kings of Leon. What I really want to listen to is one of Filthy Sound’s numbers, but I’m already failing big time in keeping my feelings for Kitt under wraps.

  No need to add to it. Desperation doesn’t look good on anyone—except for Kitt when he was kissing me in the cage.

  Don’t think about that, Texas.

  Kitt is the first one out of his room, which isn’t unusual. I don’t think he went back to sleep when we hit the road for all of the thirty minutes.

  Lazy musicians this morning. Jimmy used to get up early with me, but since Kitt’s been around, he’s been sleeping in, no longer feeling bad that I might be alone. It wouldn’t have bothered me anyway, but I did appreciate his company.

  “I think I’m dying, Tex,” Kitt groans.

  “Did you, by any chance, drink too much of my minibar?”

  Jamming his fists into his eyes, he nods.

  He changed his T-shirt. This one is white and plain. It doesn’t do much to hide his tattoos, which kind of turns me on. We’ve not even slept together, and I want him all the time.

  With my ex, Xander, it was never like that, and we’d had sex. I was self-conscious with Xander, but I let Kitt maul me in public. He makes me feel sexy with one look. It’s unintentional, and he probably does the same to every woman he looks at. It’s those come-to-bed deep blue eyes that do it.

  Yeah, you really need help.

  “You okay, Tex? You’ve not moved in a while.”

  “Right,” I say, turning so that he doesn’t see the colour of my cheeks. My face feels like it’s on fire, so no doubt, my cheeks are red. Thank God he doesn’t know he just witnessed me imagining having sex with him.

  You’re tragic. Get a grip.

  Nodding my chin toward the coffee pot, I say, “Coffee is ready. Can you pour me one, too, please?”

  Caffeine will help clear my dirty thoughts. I hope.

  “Oh my God!” I spin around. How could I forget?

  He’s far too close. For a split second, we’re back in the cage, and desire pools between my legs.

  Clear head, Tex.

  “I’m such an idiot. Today is huge for you. First show on your first tour. How are you feeling?”

  He takes a little step closer, and his chest is centimetres from mine. The floor whips away, and I’m free-falling. I want him to kiss me so bad. My lips…yes, my lips ache.

  Gulping, he clears his throat. “I’m fine besides a headache. I’m excited and nervous and anxious all at once. I want to be out there now.” He’s animated, and it makes his whole face light up.

  I can’t help from getting swept up in his excitement. He comes alive when he talks about music and the band. I love his passion. And I don’t just mean his passion for music.

  A part of me wonders what he’d do if I came on to him. Like properly. Would he take things further than we’ve already gone?

  “I can’t wait to watch you.” My voice is too quiet. I sound ridiculous.

  “Well, I can’t wait for you to watch me.”

  Okay, where is this going? Because I would really like to watch him.

  “Eggs?” I ask, mentally whacking myself with something hard.

  Nice one, Texas. Now, you look like a total moron.

  Kitt laughs. “Eggs sound good. Your bacon is going to burn soon, by the way.”

  Gasping, I spin around and take the pan off the heat. There’s not a whole lot I can do on tour besides trying to keep them in check, so I want performance day breakfasts to be perfect.

  While he’s still laughing behind me, I hear Kitt grabbing two mugs for our coffee.

  “Is there anything else you need me to do?” he asks.

  There’s plenty but nothing I can say aloud.

  “Nope. I think I’m good. Thanks. You just sit and wait for food.”

  I turn the heat down, so the food will take a little longer because I don’t hear any signs of life coming from the bedrooms above.

  Taking my drink, I sit opposite of Kitt at the table, and my phone buzzes with a text.

  Darling, wish the boys good luck. XOXO.

  It’s Jennifer. She could text Dad, but since she hit the big time, she doesn’t need him anymore. Having his child was enough to rocket her career to the top. Things she wants to ask him go through me now.

  “You going to reply to that?” Kitt asks.

  He’s read it, too, because my phone is lying on the table, and I didn’t bother to pick it up.

  “Doesn’t really require a reply. Good luck from Jennifer.”

  Dipping his head, he picks up his mug and correctly chooses to leave the topic of Jennifer alone.

  My mother is kind of a sore subject. I wouldn’t change my life or the way I grew up. Dad’s the best, and he made sure I never felt unwanted, but some real and meaningful interaction with the woman who brought me into this world would have been nice.

  Why should I go out of my way when she can’t be bothered?

  “After-party tonight,” he says, grinning.

  “Now, that, I’m looking forward to.”

  He laughs, and his eyes turn lava hot. “Me, too,” he rasps.

  He’s thinking about the cage. Oh my God!

  After breakfast, I wait in the bus with Ted while the guys go off to do a final sound check and familiarise themselves with the venue. There’s no reason for me to be there quite as early, so I have a quick shower, change, and lie down on my bed.

  I’m tired and aching, so a nap is everything right now. Because no one can nap before reading the entire Internet, I scroll through Twitter.

  There is tons of support for Filthy Sound. In fact, they’re trending! There’s a lot of #MarryMeKitt.

  Get in fucking line, darling.

  And people are saying they want Cooper’s children and to have sex with Milo on the stool he sits on while playing the drums.

  When they’re in the media more, there’s an increase of photos. I hate photos. Kitt will never refuse a fan a picture or autograph, and it always comes back to bite me on the arse, especially when he takes slutty photos with the women he wants to feel up. They never have an issue with his tongue down their throat or his hand inside their bra or on their arse. In fact, they often actively encourage it.

&n
bsp; Not that Kitt needs any encouragement.

  I bite down on my tongue as I torture myself by flicking through some of them. Kitt’s not mine, I’m fully aware of that, but it still hurts every time I see him with someone else. We might have kissed and whatever a couple of times, but that doesn’t mean anything, not really. He’s done more with countless women, and they’re never seen again.

  Kitt has called me beautiful before, he’s admitted he’s attracted to me, we’ve kissed twice, and we’ve shared something much more intimate, so I know there’s something between us.

  Is it just my dad, or is Kitt not that into me?

  Nothing would make me change my dad, no chance, but it would be nice if his status didn’t matter so much. Peyton couldn’t care less. I wish Kitt could say the same.

  He’s not holding back because of who your dad is. It’s who your dad is to him. Still doesn’t help you though.

  I turn my nose up. So many selfies of women with the Filthy Sound hashtag are flooding Twitter.

  Filthy Sound is getting the recognition they deserve, and I love that, but I really wish the women would love them a little less. Jealousy is an ugly emotion but one of the hardest to control. I’ve learned that a thousand times over since I met Kitt.

  I try hard not to let it bother me, but by now, I know it’s pointless to push myself. I feel what I feel, and until I stop loving Kitt, I’m going to want to scratch the eyes out of every woman he gropes. Or I’ll start drinking the harder stuff more often.

  A text from Kitt flashes across the banner, and I’m a little too mad at him to want to look, which is ridiculous and makes me borderline insane.

  When are you coming?

  That’s weird. Right? Isn’t that weird?

  The show isn’t for hours yet, and he knows I planned on getting there closer to the start. I don’t see why he needs to know an exact time…unless he wants me there.

  He doesn’t want you there. He probably needs something.

  But he might just want you with him.

  I type a quick reply.

  Why? What’s up?

  My heart is in my mouth as I wait. Turns out, I don’t do playing it cool well—internally anyway.