Come Undone

by Madelynne Ellis

  ‘Yeah – and why is it you did that, if you’re not interested in my ass?’ He turned slightly, and probably deliberately, so that he presented her with a damn good view of his rear inside his black leather jeans. Now he was plain teasing her in addition to being an ass. And was it really necessary for him to sound so scathing?

  ‘What would I do with it?’

  She’d curl her fingers into it. Squeeze all that tight, firm muscle, that’s what. And then maybe lick him for good measure.

  ‘I’m sure I can’t imagine.’ Xane eyed her thoughtfully from over his shoulder. ‘Well, now,’ he said, his tone softening. ‘If you’re really not interested, that makes you a whole lot more interesting.’ He rubbed his lower jaw, smearing the remains of the make-up the rain had already wrecked. ‘Are you staying for a drink?’

  Given that her heart had already suffered one too many shocks, she’d gratefully accept a nice cup of tea.

  Xane reached up and cracked open a cupboard. When he again turned to face her, he was clutching a bottle of vodka by the neck. ‘Just so you know. I intend to get completely wankered.’ He waved the bottle in her direction, before gesturing to the sofa to indicate she should sit.

  Dani frowned.

  One glass of vodka would get her tipsy; two would likely have her flat on her back with her thighs apart. With the exception of an occasional glass of wine with a meal, she was virtually teetotal.

  Meanwhile, Xane knocked back several shots. After the fourth or fifth, when she still hadn’t replied, he poured another and offered it to her.

  Dani closed her hand around the glass, already anticipating fire in her throat and Xane inside of her. The vision was so real she gave an actual gasp, as the flesh between her thighs became warm and damp.

  Everything ached.

  Xane smirked. ‘And that’s before you swallow.’

  Dani shot him an angry glance.

  He raised his hands in surrender. ‘I’m just saying, maybe you shouldn’t be on the hard stuff.’

  Still vexed, Dani gulped a mouthful of vodka. The fluid ignited her taste buds, burned as it flowed down her throat bringing tears to her eyes. No matter, she refused to let them fall. ‘Don’t you have any mixers?’

  Xane groped around in the cupboard and produced a bottle of cola. ‘This do? Say when.’

  She gripped the glass tightly with both hands to keep it steady as he poured. Of course, he had to come closer to do so. Close enough that he was at least partially in her space, and wafting his delicious scent in her direction. It raised the hairs on the back of her neck, while further excitement pulsed between her thighs. If he touched her again, as he’d done earlier, she’d probably pass out – that or crack the goddamned glass with her grip.

  ‘So, Sally.’ Xane reached out, and claimed the all-access pass from around her neck. After a swift glance, he cast it into the wastepaper basket. ‘Who are you really? Give me a name. I like to know who I’m talking to.’

  So he knew the pass was stolen. The realisation that she’d been caught sobered her a moment. It was hardly a surprise. Of course Xane knew his own staff. Regardless, Dani contemplated maintaining the façade. Given that Sally Kettering hung out with the band, she was probably a whole lot worldlier than Dani, and more assertive too. Sally had probably slept with most of the band three times over and didn’t see anything wrong with that. She was free, like Xane, and like Ginny. Not hung up on morality and what people thought of her, nor so scared of what might happen that she was figuring out a host of different excuses for why she might have to leave at short notice.

  ‘You know she has a moustache, don’t you?’

  Dani blinked at him in surprise. She’d never got a proper glimpse of Sally before the theft. All she remembered was a woman in black, a description which probably described three-quarters of the women at the gig.

  Xane shook his head. ‘She doesn’t really. I just made that up. She’s got at least ten years on you, though. What are you, about eighteen?’

  ‘Twenty,’ she replied indignantly. ‘And I’m Daniella … Dani.’ Out of habit she stuck out her hand for him to shake.

  ‘Hi, Daniella.’ Xane accepted her hand. His grip was pleasantly firm, although the bite of his numerous claw rings made it faintly disturbing. ‘I’m –’

  ‘– Xane Geist,’ she finished for him. ‘Lead singer and mastermind behind Black Halo.’

  A flash of something – not appreciation, pain perhaps – swept across the surface of his eyes. He blinked, and it was gone. ‘– Alex. My real name is Alexander.’

  She’d read that in an interview. ‘So do I call you Xane or Alex?’

  ‘Whichever.’ He released her hand. ‘I can’t say that I much care for either at the minute. Call me what the hell you like. Dickhead, was it, you were thinking a minute ago?’

  ‘I’ll stick with Xane.’ It’s what popped into her head complete with an exclamation mark every time she looked at him. How could one man be so bloody scrumptious? Despite him sitting close enough to touch her, he still seemed a fraction unreal.

  ‘Um, aren’t your claws kind of uncomfortable?’

  Xane looked at the rings, as though he barely remembered he was wearing them. ‘Most girls like them.’

  ‘Why? Don’t they scratch?’

  He gave her a significant look. ‘I think that’s the point.’

  ‘You wear a lot of jewellery.’

  ‘Yup.’ He began stripping it off. Claw rings first. He dropped them with a thunka-thunk onto the coffee table. Numerous leather wrist straps followed. That left a stud through his tongue, in addition to the lip ring, and hoops in his ears and through one eyebrow. His throat lay surprisingly bare, now he’d removed the collar.

  ‘So, Dani – if you’re not here to shag me, what are you here for?’

  Dani opened her mouth to begin, but Xane cut her off.

  ‘And don’t mention the lift again. You were hanging out backstage with a stolen pass around your neck. So you were there for a reason. Were you after one of the other guys?’

  ‘No.’

  Xane eyed her cautiously. ‘Journalist? If you’re a journalist, I’m going to kick your butt out of here.’ He slammed his empty glass down on the table, making Dani jump.

  ‘I’m not a journalist.’ She shrank back against the sofa. Would anyone admit to being, after that threat? ‘I was backstage because of my friend Ginny. She really wanted to meet you guys. She got us into your dressing room, but I wanted to watch the gig, so I left her there and … and then I walked into you.’

  ‘I see.’ Xane dispensed with his glass in favour of swigging straight from the bottle. ‘So, you left your mate in my dressing room. Isn’t she going to wonder where you’ve gone?’

  ‘Um … probably not. I mean, no. We arranged to meet back at our hotel.’

  ‘But you’re not at your hotel.’

  Yes, she had actually noticed that.

  ‘I doubt she is either. If she’s met one of your band mates, then she’ll probably be a while, right?’

  Xane gave a half-hearted little shrug. ‘Is she hot?’

  ‘Um, I guess so.’ Dani got out her phone, thinking maybe she ought to call Ginny anyway, just in case she had arrived at the hotel and was wondering where she’d got to.

  ‘Don’t,’ Xane advised. ‘Ash’ll be shagging her.’

  ‘He might not be.’

  Xane shook his head. ‘No, really, he will be. She’s wearing a short skirt, right? She’s in our dressing room, and she’s not like you. He’s probably had her forwards, backwards and is working on upside down by now.’

  She couldn’t help laughing at the notion. ‘Does he have a set routine, then, for giving girls … what they want?’

  ‘How would I know? I’m a bloke.’

  Good point.

  ‘Could I have a cup of tea, please?’

  He shook his head. ‘No teabags.’

  ‘Oh! OK!’

  ‘Nip out and get some, if you like.’

/>   ‘Are you asking me to leave?’

  ‘Didn’t say that, did I? Stay if you want. I figure, at least if you’re here I won’t be found dead tomorrow face down in a pool of my own vomit.’

  ‘Oh!’ Dani shuffled forward to the edge of her seat in alarm. Was that likely? Given the way he was knocking back vodka as though it were spring water, maybe it was, and perhaps a supply run wasn’t such a bad idea. He was going to need a boat-load of painkillers in the morning. ‘Shouldn’t you slow down?’

  ‘I told you my aim was to get wankered.’

  Why did he need to?

  ‘I know, but if you continue to gulp spirits like that you’re going to hurt your throat. Think of your tour dates. You’re going to disappoint a lot of people if you can’t sing.’

  ‘I disappoint a lot of people even when I do.’ A dark shadow swept across his face. Even through the make-up she recognised the tightening around his eyes. The set of his mouth turned particularly sour.

  ‘Did something happen?’ she asked. ‘I mean on stage. ’Cause the gig ended early, didn’t it?’

  There was no way Black Halo had been on stage more than twenty minutes. What was that – four songs, maybe? Also, she knew enough about bands to realise they hung out together post show, talked to the fans, that sort of stuff. Xane had whisked her out of the building as fast as possible. He hadn’t even gone back to the dressing room. But it was the conversation with Ash on the way out that was the real giveaway.

  ‘Yeah, it ended early.’

  She waited patiently a moment for Xane to elaborate, but he had his mouth glued around the bottle top again.

  ‘Want to talk about it? Did someone muck things up? Fry your sound boards, or something?’

  Xane spluttered vodka over his lap and the nearby furnishings. ‘You think I’m swilling this muck because of a blown amp?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She folded her hands into her lap. ‘I guess not. What did happen, then?’

  ‘We split up. It’s over. Black Halo are no more.’ He stood and gave a theatrical bow, though it was obvious his mockery was a mask.

  ‘No.’ Dani shook her head, praying that if she denied it then it wouldn’t be real. But his speedy getaway, not wanting to speak to Ash, and now the vodka – it all added up. So did the soul-deep hurt swimming in his eyes.

  ‘Dead. Dead. Dead,’ he reiterated, as if he were stabbing the remains just to make sure.

  Still, for a moment her brain refused to process the message. Then her stomach lurched. The vodka she’d swallowed burned a second time as it clawed its way back up her throat. She didn’t vomit, but a cold sort of emptiness filled her chest, making it painful to fill her lungs. It couldn’t … it couldn’t be. Why would they split? They were doing so well. Their popularity and fan base grew with each successive album. She couldn’t quite make herself ask him the reason. Everyone knew he was the band’s driving force, and that he lived and breathed it. It was that passion, his dedication, which had made Black Halo into the global success story they were.

  ‘You’re lying,’ she said clutching at straws.

  ‘No.’ His lips pursed tight.

  The blood drained from Dani’s face. The room swirled.

  ‘Hey!’ Xane nudged her shoulder. ‘I thought I was the one who got to be melodramatic about it.’ When she didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him, he leaned closer still, with his eyebrows quirked upwards. ‘It’s my band. My life that’s gone to hell. That means I’m the one who gets to have a breakdown, not you.’

  Chapter 7

  ‘No, no, no!’ Dani refused to believe that Black Halo had split, on stage. That was mega! Not some little tiff over artistic differences that would be mended in a couple of days.

  ‘Are you going into shock?’ Xane worried the ring in his lip. ‘Shit! You are.’ He dropped the vodka bottle in order to catch her. ‘Sit down. No. Lie down.’ He forced her onto her back along the length of the leather sofa. ‘Christ! Chill out, woman.’

  Dani did feel odd, sort of hollow and prickly. Not numb though. Numb would have been preferable.

  Xane swayed in and out of her field of vision. ‘Hey, it’s not that fucking big a deal. It’s just a band.’

  Except she knew from the way he said it that he didn’t believe that any more than she did. It wasn’t just a band. It was his life.

  ‘Just don’t pass out, OK?’ He lifted her legs so that her feet rested on the sofa arm.

  She didn’t want to keep still. This was a major deal. If the media had picked up on the story, the group’s demise had probably already been reported on the late-night news. Music journalists would be picking over the carcass, interviewing anyone available for their opinions. This couldn’t be. Other bands split up, but Black Halo was a constant. The only constant in her world that wasn’t associated with effing St Agatha’s.

  ‘You’ll re-form,’ she managed to croak. Tears were beginning to gather in her eyes. Soon enough they’d spill, and then she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop them.

  Xane shook his head. ‘No.’

  Why did he have to be so blunt – so bloody honest? Couldn’t he at least pretend it was an option?

  ‘I ought to have known something would go wrong with this evening. I couldn’t experience an ordinary trip out to a gig to see my favourite band. Oh, no, I get punished for it. Anyone else that meets you gets their shirt signed. I get … I get … this!’ She threw her arms wide for emphasis. It wasn’t fair. Didn’t he realise that he was breaking her heart. Black Halo were her lifeline – the little bit of rebellion that made everything else, all the shit she endured, more palatable.

  She began to hyperventilate.

  ‘Stop it,’ Xane growled. ‘I mean it. Really, fucking stop it. You’re scaring the shit out of me, lady. And I don’t let anyone scare the shit out of me.’ He was big enough and menacing enough for her to believe that. Given his six foot two frame, she doubted anyone had ever managed to truly cow him. He’d laugh off Sister Anna’s threats.

  And it wasn’t that she was trying to be dramatic. She just couldn’t deal …

  ‘Goddammit. I was hoping we didn’t need to do this.’ Xane kissed her square on the lips. Not a peck, or anything soft, but a full-on smacker of a kiss.

  He tasted of alcohol and sin and … whoa!

  ‘There, does that help?’

  How in God’s name was that supposed to help? Now she had no breath left in her body, and her heart didn’t know what to do. It stuttered, trying to decide between triple time and cardiac arrest.

  ‘Again?’ Bastard smiled grimly at her, showing off his crooked demon’s teeth.

  He didn’t wait for an answer, which was lucky, because she couldn’t have formed one. He just dived right in and did it, like it was no big deal to be kissing a woman he hardly knew in order to save her from passing out. Although she suspected that more often he caused women to faint.

  Damn, he tasted good, of peppermint and fire; much nicer than the starched linen of her pillowcase, which had so often stood in his stead.

  Xane’s fingers slid across her cheek and into her hair.

  Dani closed her eyes and arched towards him. Mm, yes, that was nice. Not so shocking this time. Her brain was functioning well enough to treasure the brush of his lips against hers, and acknowledge the odd pressure of his lip ring. She responded too. Not with fire, but with total submission. She let him have his way. Let him stamp his mark on her.

  Her body went limp. Her mouth opened, allowing him to slide his tongue inside. No one had ever really kissed her like this before. She’d never desired them to. Normally, kissing seemed quite messy and silly, a bit slobbery and gross.

  Xane rewrote the experience as a new and fabulous thing, possessed of subtleties and glorious sensuality. He led her in a merry breathless dance, their tongues duelling for long precious moments.

  Xane held himself above her, his body stretched out, though she couldn’t recall him taking that position. He just seemed to arrive, and
it felt right.

  Not that they were touching anywhere save their lips and where his hand cupped her head.

  When he finally pulled away, Dani looked up at him with her mouth open. She wanted more. No pretences. He could sink right down onto her – into her, even, maybe … Her gaze strayed along the length of his body, taking in the tautly drawn muscles that she longed to explore.

  What if she actually put her hands on him? Touched the firm stretch of skin between his belly button and the top of his fly? Something about that part of a man fascinated her.

  Xane was breathing hard. His gaze locked upon her face. ‘Getting ideas?’ His lip curled slightly as he spoke. ‘Suppose I should be thankful you’re not about to expire any more.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to.’ She pushed at his shoulder, suddenly aware of how close they were.

  ‘Good. I don’t need any more drama.’

  ‘You didn’t have to do anything. I’d have been all right. It was just a shock.’

  ‘Yeah, right!’ He crossed his arm defensively, which rather suggested he didn’t believe her.

  Dani couldn’t work him out. A few minutes ago he’d been annoyed over the fact that she might desire him, and now he seemed riled that he’d kissed her – but she hadn’t initiated it, and she wasn’t pressing him for more, quite the opposite, because she was scared stiff of where more would lead to.

  They stared at one other uncomfortably until Xane lowered his head as if he meant to kiss her again, causing her to gasp. But he rolled off the sofa instead.

  ‘Stay there. I’ll fetch you a blanket.’

  Dani sat up. ‘I don’t need a blanket.’ She was calm now. Well, OK, not exactly calm. Her heart rate had at least doubled in the last five minutes, but she wasn’t feeling quite so traumatised.

  ‘I’ll get one anyway.’ He hurried away, leaving her even more confused. Only by following Xane’s movement did she realise the cottage had another floor, accessed by a stairwell set into the wall behind the front door.

  Xane returned more quickly than she’d anticipated, carrying a duvet he must have snatched straight off his bed.

  ‘This isn’t necessary,’ she protested, as he swaddled her in cloth.