Burn: A shifter and vampire rock star romance (Underground Encounters Book 4)

by Lisa Carlisle

  “Okay.”

  “Take my bed,” he said. “I’ll grab my laptop from my room and sleep out here on the sofa.”

  One part of me was relieved. The other—disappointed.

  In his room, I put on a pink thigh-length cotton nightshirt I’d picked up at the store. In his bed, the memories of the passion we had shared came rushing back to me again. I breathed in the scent of the sheets and inhaled the scent of Devon and me together there not so long ago.

  Then again, this was also where he held me captive. Too many thoughts swirled in my head that I was unable to process how I should react to him. Just because he was now helping me, could I forgive him for what he’d done to me?

  No.

  My body had its own opinion on the matter of Devon; one that didn’t care about motives or reasons. Just pure lust for the male it craved in the next room.

  Shit, it was probably his damn blood calling to me as it had tasted so delicious. How could I turn off this vampire yearning, if that was what it was?

  Or was it something else?

  My body whispered to me to call to him. Invite him in.

  No, stop thinking about him. Go to sleep.

  My body was so screwed up by the events and the jet lag and my internal clock adjusting to the new sunlight hours, which made it difficult to fall asleep. Not to mention all the worries in my mind. Who stole the painting and why were they framing me? Would the bank provide any answers?

  I tossed and turned, distracted by Devon. Was he still awake? I pictured him stretched out on the sofa, with only a thin blanket covering his lower body.

  What was I thinking? He was the one who got me into this mess.

  Well, not exactly. And he might be my only chance of getting out of it.

  Ugh, I was arguing with myself. Stupid. I gave up on trying to sleep and climbed out of bed. When I opened the door, he was sitting up staring at his laptop.

  Still without a shirt.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He glanced at me. “Making sure we’re all set for the bank tomorrow.”

  “Are we?”

  “Yes.” He cocked his head as he examined me. “You all right?”

  Heat suffused my cheeks. “No.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It seems wrong to keep you out here while I’m in your room.”

  Devon blinked twice, but said nothing. He closed his laptop.

  Jeez, where was I going with this?

  This was my only night with him. If it was my last night ever, I wanted to spend it with him.

  Funny, I’d had a similar thought last night, but with a far different tone.

  Time to lay it out there. “I want you to come to bed with me.”

  His eyes widened, but then he wiped the surprise from his expression. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I want you.”

  Devon rose. In a few strides, he reached me. I peered up at his face.

  He cupped my face with both hands and searched my eyes. “What is it? Another ruse?”

  It made sense that he would think that. “No ruse.”

  “Don’t you hate me?”

  His blue-green eyes searched mine. His heady, masculine scent inclined me to close my eyes and breathe him in.

  When I reopened them, I answered, “Yes. And no. I don’t understand you. Or why you’re doing this, but I’m grateful.”

  “But, you want me?”

  Maybe I was crazy. Perhaps it was sick and wrong to want him. It didn’t change the fact of it being true.

  I took his hand and placed it on my breast. He caressed my nipple through the soft fabric, and it instantly hardened into a tight bead.

  “I’m confused and scared about tomorrow. And I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

  His expression turned fierce with desire. “I’ll take your mind off everything.”

  He cradled my face again and stared into my eyes. My lips trembled. When he leaned down to kiss me, the seconds dragged by, prolonging my agony. When his lips finally met mine, a shudder of heat zinged through me. My body ignited from within, turning into a fire of desperate need.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck as I savored the taste of him. He lifted me off the ground as if I weighed no more than a flower. I wrapped my legs around his solid frame as he carried me back into his bedroom and lowered me onto his bed.

  He reached under my nightgown and stroked between my legs. A low moan of pleasure rumbled from somewhere that sounded deep within his chest.

  “You’re already so wet.” His voice was low and sensual.

  He pulled my nightshirt up over my head and began a slow perusal of my body first with his eyes and then with his fingers.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  Devon lowered his muscular body on mine and kissed and licked his way from my lips down. The sensual assault commanded all my senses. By the time he reached my thighs, I writhed beneath his touch, desperate with anticipation as I waited for more.

  Finally, he kissed me there, licking my sex with slow strokes that made my body arch. As he continued, my rough pants turned into low moans. He brought me to the peak and I tensed, grabbing at the sheets. He left me hovering there, breathless and desperate for release. And then he sent me over.

  I cried out as I shattered, clutching the sheets and then grabbing at him.

  Quake after quake of pleasure flowed through me. When they began to subside, he pulled away and removed his clothes. He grabbed the magnificent girth of his cock and teased me with it.

  “Now,” I begged. “Please.”

  He played around my entrance some more. “How bad do you want me?”

  “This bad,” I said and pulled him onto me, and then captured his mouth in a kiss.

  As he kissed me, he pushed his way in. The filling sensation was what I desperately needed. Once he drove past my body’s initial resistance, I wrapped my arms and legs around him, pulling him in deeper still.

  “Fuck me, Devon.”

  He drove into me with such a deep thrust I yelped

  “You want it hard like this?”

  “Yes,” I cried.

  He rocked into me with long, hard strokes. I lifted my hips as I clung to him, increasing the delicious friction. The intense pressure commanded my senses as we rose to a teetering edge together. The stirrings of an orgasm rose and quickly overwhelmed me. I clawed his back as I crashed, shattering into nothingness.

  “Yes, Layla. Come all over me.”

  I couldn’t reply, just yelp, as he rammed himself into me. On the third deep thrust, he dropped his head back and shot out his release.

  We fell against each other, our slick bodies entwined as we recovered.

  “Oh my God,” I finally said. “That was—incredible.”

  “I know.” He kissed my shoulder. “I’m glad I made you happy.”

  Strange. Why would he care about my happiness? Once again, Devon perplexed me. But when he pulled my body close to his, I stopped thinking about it. For the first time in years, I felt safe. It didn’t make sense considering how my fate rested with Stefano tomorrow. But the security of Devon’s arms comforted me. I drifted off to sleep.

  After a few hours, Devon nudged my shoulder and kissed it. My dreams were filled with sensual thoughts of him, and I didn’t want them to end.

  “It’s time to go to the bank, sweetheart.”

  Funny, whenever he’d called me sweetheart, it had that hard edge to it. This it sounded gentler, more like a term of endearment.

  Waking up during daylight went contrary to my internal clock. I moved sluggishly—until I remembered this might be the last time I ever woke.

  Devon had arranged for a specially equipped van that blocked out all sunlight in the back. He led me safely into the van under an insulated tarp, but I caught sight of daylight around us, and it almost blinded me. Then he drove to a bank branch that had an underground garage where we entered the elevators.

 
The trip to the bank turned out to be a bust.

  At least for me. We had unlocked my account, but the five million pounds was long gone. Devon was more optimistic about it. He took a printout of the account numbers where the money was transferred.

  We returned to his flat. He sat at his laptop as he set about tracking where the money had been dispersed. I tried to follow along as he explained offshore accounts set up under what were most likely fronts with fictional organizations, but my questions slowed his progress.

  “Tell you what. Why don’t we each take a task, make us more efficient,” he said. “I’ll focus on the accounts, and you focus on figuring out where the painting went.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “Start with art galleries in London. Ask questions. Follow leads. Ask more questions.”

  “All right, I’ll try,” I said, unconvinced I’d make much progress.

  “You’ll do fine,” he said. “Besides, you can describe the painting better, with the details and such.”

  “I’m on it.” It was better to do something productive than to focus on what would happen tonight if we didn’t get Stefano the answers he wanted.

  We spent the day tracking leads. I thought we didn’t get far.

  Devon grinned. “We’re making progress. Slow, but steady.”

  “I can’t afford slow.” I plopped onto the sofa with frustration.

  Over the next few hours, I stared too often at the clock. The hours rushed past. It was almost time to return to Stefano.

  I had to make one more phone call before we left. If this was it, I had to say goodbye.

  I took the phone into Devon’s room and closed the door.

  Chapter 9

  Joey

  When the phone rang with an unknown number, I debated answering it.

  “Joey, it’s me. Lay—I mean—Angelica.”

  Her stumbling on her name raised a flag, but the relief from hearing her voice overshadowed it.

  “Angelica! Where are you? What happened? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I rose from my couch and paced my living room. “You disappeared. I’ve been worried sick about you! Where have you been?”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have much time.”

  “I tried calling you,” I continued. “So many times. I left voice mails, but you never returned my calls. I wanted to go to the police, but the guys said I was overreacting.” Damn, I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  “I am fine, Joey. I’m sorry I worried you.”

  “Worried me?” I ran a hand back over my forehead. That was one way to put it. “I’ve been tormenting myself trying to figure out where you were. The things I imagined—I don’t even want to remember all the awful things. Why didn’t you call me back? Do you know what you put me through?”

  “I lost my phone. And it’s just been so—so crazy. If I had time, I’d tell you everything. But a lot is going on right now, and I can’t explain it just yet.”

  “What do you mean? Why can’t you tell me something? Common courtesy, you know?”

  “Joey, I know you worry about me, and I know no matter how many times I tell you not to, you still will. You have this protective streak when it comes to me. But, I’m begging you not to. I have stuff I need to deal with and will be out of touch for a while.”

  What the fuck? She couldn’t just take off without an explanation. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “You’re being cryptic, Angelica. I wish you could just be straight with me for once.”

  “I wish I could, too. But I can’t right now.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We have shows booked this weekend.”

  She was silent for several seconds. “I don’t know if I’ll be back. You’re better off finding someone else to replace me.”

  “Angelica, no! Don’t quit.” My heart pounded like a drum solo. She couldn’t leave.

  “It’s not fair to make you wait while I figure all this shit out. You guys should go on, find someone to fill in this weekend. You could sing, Joey. You have a good voice.”

  Her compliment sent a trickle of heat into my chest, but the fear of losing her eclipsed it. “What you’re asking me is too much. You’re not just finding someone to replace you as a singer, you’re asking someone to replace you. That’s impossible.”

  “Joey,” she pleaded. “Please don’t do this now.”

  An icy terror welled up inside me. I might never see her again. “Why not? This might be the last time I ever speak to you. And it’s not even in person, which sucks even more. Don’t you know I feel something for you?”

  “Of course. We’re bandmates. We’re friends. We spend so much time together, so it’s natural to care about each other.”

  “I’m bandmates and friends with Mark and Rocco, too. I don’t feel for them what I feel for you.”

  “Don’t do this.”

  “I know there’s something between us. You feel it, too.”

  She sighed. “I care about you as a friend, but that’s all. That’s all it could ever be between us. So please, whatever feelings you think you may have for me, you have to forget about them.”

  “You’re asking for the impossible.”

  “I’m asking for the only possible option.” I heard her say “one minute” to someone. “I have to go.”

  “Angelica!” I called out.

  She’d already hung up the phone.

  “Fuck!” I threw my phone on the couch.

  Devon

  Layla had disappeared into my room and closed the door. She was speaking to someone on the phone. I caught bits of the conversation of her pleading with someone. My interest piqued.

  When she returned to the living room, I asked, “Who was that?”

  “Joey. The guitarist in my band.”

  I clenched my jaw. “Oh.” Why did this bother me?

  “I knew he’d be worried and I had to let him know I was okay.”

  I rubbed my jaw. “What’s going on between you two?”

  “Nothing.” She peered at me with her wide eyes. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve seen you flirt onstage.” Damn, I could hear the accusatory tone in my voice, which made me sound like a jealous boyfriend. Which I was not. I had no claims to her. Even if we’d just had sex again.

  Layla sighed. “There is nothing more between Joey and me than friendship and a relationship being in a band together. The act we have onstage is just that—an act. The crowd responds, so we have fun with it.”

  I exhaled. Her declaration put me slightly at ease. “Is he aware of this?”

  “Yes.”

  A part of me said to drop it, but for some reason, I didn’t. This guy had rubbed me the wrong way in the club, and I didn’t like the idea of him getting close to Layla.

  “I get the impression he wants more for you.”

  She raised her eyebrow and smiled. “Why are you asking me all these questions? Are you jealous?”

  “No.” I jerked my head away and glanced at my watch. “We need to go to Stefano’s,” I snapped.

  When her face dropped, I wished I hadn’t said it so harshly. “Don’t give up yet, Layla. These things take time. Look at how long it took me to track you down. We just need to convince Stefano to give us more time.”

  “We?” She searched my eyes.

  “Yes, we.” What was I doing? Somehow, she’d gotten under my skin and one night turned into the next. One task turned into a bigger mission.

  She stared at the rug and pursed her lips. “He’s not a patient man.”

  On the drive to Stefano’s, I tried to engage Layla in a discussion about the painting. She stared out the window and gave short answers, clearly distracted. The scenery as the city transformed to the country and soon we reached his imposing Tudor.

  As we walked up to the front door, her hands trembled.

  I hated seeing her like this and took one
in my hand, rubbing my thumb over her palm in a soothing gesture. “It’s going to be okay,”

  “You can’t promise that.” Her voice was just above a whisper.

  She was right. But, now I was more resolved to help her. Why? She’d thought I’d had an ulterior motive. I wish I did; it would be easier to understand than my confused response to her.

  When we were let into the house, Stefano met us in the great room.

  “She didn’t take the painting,” I said.

  “Oh really,” Stefano said with mock interest. “Let me guess, she seduced you and convinced you to believe she’s innocent.”

  Perhaps that had been her intention initially, but it didn’t make her guilty. The evidence pointing at her was too tidy, like someone had framed her.

  “I know how to do my job,” I said. “She didn’t steal the money either.”

  He looked unconvinced, but humored me by asking, “Then who did?”

  “We’ve been tracking leads, but need more time to follow them.”

  “Enough!” Stefano declared. “She’s had enough time to clear her name by now if she is so innocent.” Fury pulsed in his eyes as his expression turned. “Forget this new plan of yours. The job was to bring her here. You’ve done that, so you can leave.”

  Fuck. This wasn’t going well for Layla. Fine, I’d play his game to buy more time. “So pay me.”

  Layla’s eyes widened in terror. Stefano gave me a critical look. I kept my face impassive so as not to reveal anything.

  “Wait here,” Stefano said to Layla. “Shifter, come with me.”

  I winked at Layla before I followed him into the study. He took a manila envelope off the desk and handed it to me.

  We left the study. “You know the way out.” He nodded at the guards down the hall and returned to the great room.

  I hadn’t moved as I figured out my next move. The guards were watching me, waiting.

  “I forgot my bag,” I muttered and followed Stefano. He had his hands around Layla’s neck and said, “Tell me now before I start removing body parts, starting with those fangs.”

  “Stefano, please,” she choked out.