With Vengeance

by Brooklyn Ann

  ***

  Kat walked with Klement back to the house. She was sore everywhere, but she relished the aches of her shoulders and hips. Most of all, she treasured the tenderness between her thighs.

  Her scalp also hurt a bit from him pulling her hair. Heat crept into her cheeks. What had she been thinking to ask him to do that? What if he thought she was some kind of freak? But he must not have, because he’d been all too enthusiastic to comply with her request. With a secret smile she ran a hand through her hair, attempting to straighten up some of its mess. Sure, they’d been working on the car, but she was pretty sure she looked more disheveled than warranted.

  When they entered the house, Cliff and Rod were in the kitchen devouring plates of nachos. Kat’s stomach growled. After filling a plate, she didn’t hear a word anyone said until she’d devoured the whole thing and went back for seconds. Who knew that working on cars followed by wild, illicit sex could give someone such an appetite?

  “Mike called while you were working,” Rod said as he rummaged through the freezer for ice cream. “The press release for Thrashfest was sent out today, that we’ll be there with a new guitarist.”

  Kat blinked. In that case, she’d have to check her email and see if the release was sent to her site as well. Either way, she’d have to post something about it, either just mentioning that there would be a new face in the lineup, or coming out and saying she’d joined the band. It wouldn’t do for Chatterhead and Rocktalk to be the only ones with the official scoop. For a moment she resented her oath of confidentiality with the band. She had so many juicy off-the-record details. Then she remembered the juiciest thing was her.

  “That’s cool.” Klement nodded before turning to Kat. “Looks like you’ll be spreading the word on your site?”

  Rod passed around fudge pops. “About that. Mike wants to know if he can release the identity of our new guitarist.”

  Kat’s hands trembled on the wrapper of the treat she’d been given.

  “Well, it is time, I suppose,” Klement said.

  Cliff frowned. “But we’re going to clarify that it’s only for Thrashfest, right?”

  “Sort of.” Klement licked his fudge pop, momentarily distracting Kat. “We’ll clarify that we’re going to see how she works out with us on the road and make an official announcement about our decision once we’re sure, though in all actuality we can’t say anything until she signs the contract.”

  He glanced at her and Kat shivered. A contract. With a big record company. She hadn’t even considered that part.

  Klement suddenly shunted that aside with a fresh new worry. His tone was harsh and cold. “What’s the matter, Cliff? Do you not want her in the band?”

  “Whoa, man.” The singer held up his hands and turned to Kat. “I didn’t mean it that way! I think you’re an amazing guitarist. Hell, you might be even better than me. My point was that I really don’t know if you’ll be able to handle playing on a big stage in front of thousands of people. I hope you do fine, but we won’t know until then. I mean, the last band I was in would have had an amazing drummer—though not as good as Rod—but the guy totally blew it on the first big gig and dropped out.”

  Kat nodded. “That’s fair enough.”

  “All right then.” Cliff tapped his fudge pop on his lower lip. “Now that we’re all on the same page, we’d better get you ready for Thrashfest. I think you should wear one of those sexy outfits like you wore to the club the other night. The fans will totally dig it.”

  “No way.” Klement’s fist hit the table. “For one thing, that is way too gimmicky. For another, sexing her up will just make people think we took her on because of her looks. The focus needs to be on her talent just as much as it is with the rest of us.” He glanced at her again before quickly looking away. “Besides, it’s already clear that she’s a beautiful woman. There’s no need to capitalize on it.”

  Kat’s body warmed all over. He just called me beautiful in front of everyone! Even more important, he didn’t want her to be seen as a promotional sex object.

  “You have a point there,” Cliff said. Nodding, he turned back to Kat. “Besides, I’m supposed to be the sex symbol of the band.” He flexed his muscles and did a dorky pose that reminded her of a cover of a Mills & Boon romance from the seventies. “It wouldn’t do for you to usurp that from me.”

  Kat grinned. “I think your position will always be safe.”

  Klement gave her a look from the corner of his eye. His frown concerned Kat. Had he missed the light sarcasm in her tone? Was he jealous? After what they’d shared, did he really think she’d hit on Cliff? How insulting. And her eyes narrowed as she continued thinking. Why didn’t Klement say anything about them being together? Why did he want to keep their involvement secret? It wouldn’t bother these two, would it?

  They all finished their fudge pops and waited while Klement made a few phone calls to their publicist and tour manager. Kat wondered if he also made their appointments at the clinic. She still couldn’t believe he’d been so cool and down to earth about that. Richard had pitched a fit when she’d broached the subject of him getting tested, so she’d gotten herself tested and refused to let him touch her without a condom. No oral either.

  The distasteful memories of her ex fled when Klement returned. God, he was so much better than Richard in every way.

  They all went upstairs to practice a few songs, but Kat was actually relieved when Cliff begged off, too drunk to continue. Her own fingers were a little sore from working on the bolts, and she was ready to head back to her room and drafted her blog post announcing her upcoming participation in Thrashfest.

  Her stomach knotted with anxiety as she cut and rewrote sentence after sentence, agonizing over every line, but the sound of Klement’s soft muttering and the rhythmic clatter of his keyboard down the hall acted as a soothing balm. Eventually she got the post exactly how she wanted: highlighting the good, glossing over the details of how she’d been hired, and omitting any hint of bad. Also, she made sure she sounded humble and not a braggart about her induction into the band, but she also didn’t sound like the terrified wimp she really was.

  After hitting PUBLISH on the post, Kat shut down her computer and headed out to get a glass of water before bed. She encountered Klement in the hallway.

  He grinned. “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “I posted my announcement.”

  “Awesome!” He raised his hand for a high five. “What are people saying?”

  “No idea. I shut everything down right after I posted. I’m too scared to look.”

  He made a noise that sounded like a cross between amusement and frustration. “You’re going to have to moderate the comments.”

  She crossed her arms. “No, I won’t. I’ll have Kinley do it…or maybe my IT Guy.” She peered up at him through lowered lashes.

  Klement’s face darkened a moment, and he remained quiet longer than usual. “Kinley would be your better bet,” he said finally. “She knows more about what you want for the vibe of your site, which criticisms to keep and which to delete. But you’d really be the best one for the job.”

  “Nah.” She shook her head. “I’m too biased and sensitive to be objective.”

  Klement placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s going to be fine.”

  Kat rose up on her toes and reached for him, her lips parted for a kiss. Unfortunately, footsteps sounded on the stairs. One of the guys was heading their way, and Klement released her and walked away, giving a minute shake of his head.

  Stinging from the rejection, Kat went back to her room. Climbing into bed, she curled up with the robe that still faintly smelled like him. The lullaby sound of his voice down the hall reminded her again of IT Guy, and as her eyelids drifted closed she whispered, “When are you going to tell me the truth?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Klement led Kat out of the clinic, hiding a smile at her beet-red face. Though he didn’t like seeing her uncomfortable, she was adorable whe
n she blushed.

  He patted her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s all over with.”

  “I feel so violated every time,” she admitted as they got into his Suburban. “My mom calls it the ‘salad scoops.’”

  He cringed in sympathy. “It’s no picnic for dudes either.”

  The majority of the ride home passed in an awkward silence. Though, from the corner of his eye, Klement watched Kat fidget on the seat and gnaw her lip like she wanted to say something.

  Just as he was about to tell her to spit it out, she spoke.

  “Klement?”

  “Yeah?”

  Her fingers twisted on her lap. “Why don’t you want the others to know that we’re…um…involved?”

  He sighed. He’d known she was going to go there, especially after last night. And she had a point. “The main reason is that I don’t want them to think I’m having you play Thrashfest because I’m biased.”

  “You’re not, are you?”

  He shook his head as she peered at him intently. “No. If you weren’t qualified, I would have found someone else.”

  “Ah. So, what’s the other reason?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  How could he tell her that he was afraid she’d ditch him once she learned about the secret he’d been keeping from her? And if she didn’t ditch him, how could he tell her how much it would kill him if he publicly acknowledged that she was his only to have her be wooed away by someone else? Like fucking Cliff. God, what if it was Cliff? He wasn’t about to believe that Cliff had given up yet.

  “Complicated,” Kat repeated drily. “Like anything’s simple between us?”

  Klement laughed. “You have a point.”

  “It’s not just because the secrecy adds more spice to it, is it?” She licked her lips. “I mean, it is kinda hot—though inconvenient.”

  “Of course not. That part is almost more hassle than it’s worth.”

  She pouted, but he saw a glimmer of real pain in her eyes. “Do you mean you don’t want to…anymore?”

  “I said almost,” Klement clarified quickly. He was maybe more impatient-sounding than he intended. “We wouldn’t have gotten tested if I didn’t want to have sex with you anymore.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Kat lapsed back into silence for the rest of the drive. Once they got home, she made a sandwich and disappeared into her room. He knew she was hurt by some of his answers, but he didn’t know how to fix that. Rod and Cliff were staying in again tonight, so he couldn’t attempt to talk to her. Not without imperiling their secrecy.

  Sighing, he made his own sandwich and retreated to his office to play with the security footage. No luck yet, but he might as well do something useful. Any time now he might find a frame he could actually manipulate into providing useful information. So he worked until it was two A.M. and his eyes were grainy.

  He didn’t see Kat until the next morning. Unfortunately, because he slept in so late, he didn’t have time to even eat breakfast with her. Even more depressing was that she took her own car so they didn’t ride together.

  Getting through the session was tedious. Kat’s parts came out fine, but Cliff was so upset that his Internet troll had returned that he played his parts over again five times before getting them right.

  “I told you to ignore that shit,” Klement scolded.

  “I know, but he’s so hostile that it’s creepy.” Cliff’s eyes were wide with unease. “What if it’s the dead-cat guy?”

  Klement hadn’t considered that. “Okay, I’ll try to track his IP address and see if I can figure out who it is.” He shook his head, already dreading the arduous process. “But if it turns out to be some thirteen-year-old kid, you’re going to owe me.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  The owner of the studio handed over copies of the security footage from the last two weeks, which Klement had requested to see if he could spot the same Kia from his own footage. Damn, though, the work kept piling up. At this rate he’d never get the chance to get things figured out with Kat.

  Heading back to the house, it was agony not to keep checking the rearview mirror to make sure Kat was behind him.

  Once he pulled into the driveway, he cursed as his phone rang. His mood lightened when he realized it was the clinic. The results had gotten back fairly quickly. Of course, his big donation probably helped with that.

  He headed into his office for privacy as the nurse delivered the verdict. He was clean, which didn’t surprise him, but it was nice to know. Leaning back in his office chair, he stretched. He should tell Kat the good news and see if she’d gotten her results yet.

  He frowned, suddenly feeling selfish for the excitement at the potential to go in bareback. Just because they had a clean bill of health didn’t resolve everything. It was time to come clean about him being her IT Guy as well. Honesty was the first part of any real relationship. Even—or especially—the complicated ones.

  Closing his eyes, he formulated a plan. It was absolutely ridiculous, but it had the benefit of a purely open reveal of the truth, and it could potentially stave off a scene. However, just in case things blew up in his face, he wanted at least one more brief time in her arms.

  Was that wrong?

  ***

  Kat breathed a small sigh of relief as she got off the phone with the clinic. She was clean. The skeevy STD-ridden rockstar stereotype did not, apparently, apply to Klement. Granted, she’d been fairly certain that he wasn’t that type, but ever since the time Richard had gotten her drunk and snuck in without a condom, she’d grown paranoid. Waiting for those results had been more agonizing and taken longer.

  She still couldn’t believe Klement had given the clinic a fat donation to ensure they worked quickly. Was he so anxious to touch her again? She was anxious to touch him. So was this why he hadn’t approached her last night? Had he wanted to wait for the verdict?

  Suddenly nervous but also dying to know, she left her room just as Klement emerged from his office.

  “I got the all clear,” she said softly.

  He smiled. “Me too.” Glancing over her shoulder down the hall, he reached out and stroked her hair. His eyes glittered with unbanked desire. “Maybe if we can get rid of the guys tonight, we can celebrate.”

  Raw need coursed through her. “God, I hope so.”

  Alas, the Fates conspired against them. She perked up with excitement when, after dinner, Cliff asked Rod to take him out drinking, but Rod declined.

  “Sorry, mate, I have a bastard of a headache.” The drummer rubbed his temples. “Too much beating on my kit. I’m going to take a Motrin and lie down.”

  The singer turned to Kat with an entreating smile. “What about you, babe?”

  “Um.” She fumbled for an excuse. “I gotta monitor the comments on my announcement that I’ll be playing Thrashfest. The website’s exploding, both with comments congratulating me and others outraged that I’m going to be playing.” Which was exactly why she’d stuck Kinley with moderator duty. She wasn’t anywhere ready to read the fandom’s reactions in depth.

  Cliff pouted and nodded reluctantly. “I understand. I hope it’s not too big of a clusterfuck.” He ran a hand through his hair and paced the kitchen. “Damn. And speaking of Internet crazies, Klement’s gonna be too busy tracking down mine to take me to the bar. Maybe I should just go by myself.”

  “No,” Klement said firmly, speaking up from the other end of the table. “Not tonight. We also have real-life crazies to worry about. Not to mention the fact that you can’t afford another DUI.”

  The singer’s pout deepened. “Fine. Though you realize we haven’t had anything happen in a while. Maybe the son of a bitch gave up.”

  “Those kind of loons never give up,” Klement grunted. He shot Cliff a glare. “Hey, that’s my rum.”

  “Come on, man, you won’t let me go anywhere and I’m out of whiskey.” The singer rummaged in the fridge for a can of Coke. “Besides, you barely drink. You’re letting it go to wast
e.”

  Klement sighed. “You eat all my food, smoke all my weed, and now you wanna drink all my booze?”

  “Oh, speaking of weed—”

  Rod perked up. “I do have a headache, you know.”

  Klement laughed. “Oh, all right, let’s go upstairs.”

  Heavy with disappointment, Kat headed to her room. Always with the weed-smoking. Why couldn’t those other two just take off for a little while so she could be alone with Klement? And why was he allowing them to smoke up all of his stuff?

  A twinge of shame struck her at her hostility. They were her bandmates. It was wrong to bear them resentment, especially if they were all interested in the same thing. At least there was always tomorrow. And maybe Klement would be up for watching a movie with her later tonight. After all, she enjoyed his company when they were clothed as well.

  Digging out her pajamas and a towel from her clean laundry basket, she showered. When the guys came back downstairs, Klement disappeared back into his office and Roderick went to bed. Cliff went God knew where with his pilfered rum.

  Oh. So much for a movie. Fighting disappointment, Kat curled up in bed with her Kindle. It had been ages since she’d just relaxed and read.

  Before she knew it, it was after midnight. Yawning, she headed to the bathroom and brushed her teeth.

  The hallway was dark and silent, except for faint snores coming from Cliff’s room. Just when she turned to head back to bed, however, a shadow fell over her. Klement. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  She froze, captivated by the sight of his muscled form.

  He took her hand and held a finger to his lips as he led her into his room. After locking the door, he grasped her pajama top and pulled it up over her head. Immediately he sank to his knees and buried his face between her breasts. Kat looked down at him and was struck breathless by his masculine beauty. How could she have ever thought that Cliff was the better-looking man? Not in a million years.