He’s a self-sacrificing paragon who spills his emotions into a guitar for all who’ll listen. Well, my ears are wide open, and I finally hear him.
When the music stops and the crowd vanishes, I find my eyes fixed on the black curtain.
“Hey!” Getty snaps me out of my trance. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” I blink and stand from the chair, knees shaky and heart heavy. What just happened?
“Let’s go.” He waves me on. I follow him down the hall, past the stage, and out the back door.
I spot Stone placing his guitar case in the extended cab of his truck. The girl with the biggest boobs and shortest skirt is standing beside him, and her mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.
Stone turns around, flips the hair out of his face, expression flat and unreadable. His head sways my way, and our eyes lock. The chattering around me, the cigarette smoke filling my nose, and the slight coolness in the air vanish as I walk straight to him. Like watching him up on stage, imagining it’s only us, I get to him, grab the sides of his face, and pull his mouth to mine. I kiss him like I’ve never kissed a man before. I slip in a little of my heart, a bit of desire, and a lot of promise.
Pulling back, I’m rewarded by the sparkle in his amber eyes as they beam down at me. “Hi.” He smiles. It’s small, but I feel it all the way to my toes.
“Hi.” I smile back, sensing the fangirl taking her leave.
Stone’s eyes remain on me, and like me, he appears somewhat unaware of his surroundings. “How’d you like the show?”
“It was—” I search his face, his mouth, everywhere for the feeling he made me experience during the set. Did he feel it? Was I alone out there? Screw it! I’m going to tell him the truth. “You are amazing, Stone Kane.” I tip up on my tingling toes and press my wanton lips against his again. The warm, welcoming feeling curls around my body as he takes me into his arms. “And…” I lower from the tips of my toes. “I think I might’ve gotten a good glimpse of the real you too.”
“Good.” His husky voice, like his guitar, rips through me. He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck and chin, dropping airy kisses and awakening my skin as he had my senses with his music. He holds me against him for a few long silent seconds, then moves back a smidgen. He gazes down at me, and my heart fills with hope. “Thanks for getting rid of her.”
“Who?” I glance over my shoulder, met by the darting eyes of big boobs fangirl. “Oh, yeah.” I turn back to Stone, my defense raising its protective sword. “That’s what I’m here for, right?” I pull away, tugging my shirt back over my exposed belly.
He lets me escape. Eyes squinting, he rasps, “I don’t know, are you?”
“Why else would I be here?” I shift my hip, placing a defending hand on it.
He scales my guarded position with keen eyes. “Do you want to leave?”
“Stop asking me that! If I wanted to leave, I would.”
“Okay.” He laughs, eyes again touching every inch of my body. “Help me get the rest of my shit in the truck, and we’ll get a bite to eat before we head back to the house. You like tacos?”
“Who doesn’t like tacos?” I push a smile on my face as the hope previously filling my heart deflates. “And thanks. But for the future, I don’t need a reminder as to why I’m here.” I spin around to help pick up his shit.
“Hey.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me back to him. Our bodies touch. I search him once more, and there it is, I see it. He’s not hiding behind a blank stare. “It wasn’t for you. It was for me. I needed it. Okay?”
“Why?” I wasn’t going to ask, but when my lips formed the word, I was all right with it. “I mean, if you’re really trying to be honest with me, tell the truth.”
“I’m not sure you want to hear it.”
“Try me,” I challenge with a jutted chin.
He looks at me for a long silent moment as if contemplating to give me what I want, then the dark shutters slam back over his eyes and the darkness returns. “Let’s get this shit in the truck. I’m hungry.”
“That’s what I thought,” I say under my breath as I bend down to pick up a bag of cables. I stand, and the perplexed expression crippling Stone’s face stops me midway to tossing them into the cab.
“What the fuck do you want from me?” He snatches the bag and throws it in the back seat. “You wouldn’t even look at me until a couple of days ago,” he says more to the door when he slams it shut.
I open my mouth and catch Derrick’s eyes on us. I snap it shut, realizing now probably isn’t a good time to discuss what might be going on here. Could Stone have feelings for me? If so, are they sexual, or do they perhaps go deeper? Shit! I think they might for me. But I’m not about to explore it behind the venue with a crowd of people watching. “Okay, that’s fair,” I say to Stone’s tense back. “Let’s go get those tacos.” I crawl into the truck, keeping my questions and concerns to myself until my head hits the pillow later that night…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Dude.” Getty shakes my shoulder. “Hey, Stone.”
“What the fuck?” I roll over on the hard floor, pulling the blanket up over my shoulders. Exhausted, it took me forever to fall asleep knowing Jaggs was in the bed above me, and not completely awake to what’s going on, thinking maybe it’s one of my little brothers in my room, I growl, “Get the fuck out of my room.”
“I can’t,” Getty whispers. “She kicked me off the couch. Told me to sleep in here.”
“What?” I sit up, rub my eyes, and check the bed. It’s empty. “Fuck.” I toss the blankets off me and get up. “What time is it?”
“Around four thirty.” Getty rises with me.
I trudge out of the room. “Come on,” I bark at Getty as I walk down the stairs with him in tow.
I stand over the couch. Not a part of her visible, she’s curled in a small ball under the blanket. “Jaggs.” I glimpse back at an uncomfortable Getty. “Jaggs, I know you’re not sleeping already.”
“Leave me alone!”
“No.” I tear the blankets off her.
“Asshole!” She shoots me a nasty look before yanking them back over herself.
“Asshole? Me? I’m the jerk here?” I rip the blankets off again, this time, tossing them out of reach onto the chair. “I’m sleeping on the floor, and Getty’s sleeping on the damn couch all for your comfort, and because you can’t deal with shit, you’ve got us both up in the middle of the night?”
“I-I don’t mind,” Getty stutters.
I point a finger at him. “Not a fucking word.”
“Okay.” His eyes drop to the floor.
“Upstairs.” I point at the stairs. “Let’s go!” She sits up, and glad we don’t need to wake everyone in the place, I nod. The little hellion crosses her arms over her chest. “Jaggs, don’t push me.” I glare at her from the corner of my eye.
“I want to sleep here!”
“Tough shit!” I bend down and pick her up. She’s kicking and pounding my body as I toss her over my shoulder. “Go back to bed, Getty.”
He grabs the blanket from the chair and moves toward the couch as Derrick comes walking out in nothing but boxers. “What the hell is—” His eyes connect with mine. He glances at a shrugging Getty, a struggling to break free Jaggs, and then he shakes his head. “Whatever,” he says and waves a hand in the air before turning around. “I’m going back to bed.”
Smart move.
I climb up the stairs two at a time as Jaggs continues to punch my back, demanding that I put her down. Walking into the bedroom, I kick the door shut behind me and drop the feisty spitfire onto the bed. She jumps up, and I push her back down. The stubborn little hellion gives it another try before finally staying put.
She perches up on her elbows. “I don’t want to sleep in here with you!”
“Well, I got news for you, babe.” I flip the hair from my face, trying to
catch my breath from carrying the hundred plus fighting wildcat up the stairs. “I didn’t want to be in here with you either.”
“Then let me sleep on the couch!”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“’Cause I’m not gonna make this easy for you. You think this is easy for me?”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do. That’s why you ran to the couch.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s hard to want something you know you shouldn’t. Hard to lay a few feet away from what you want, all the while knowing you shouldn’t want it to begin with. Fuck, Jaggs.” I rush a hand through my hair. “You think I don’t want to get in that bed and fuck you?”
“Stop!” Her head drops back on the pillow, and she puts her hands over her face. “Just stop!”
“You started this shit. I was fine. Granted, it took me an hour or so to fall asleep, but I was dealing with it. What’s your fucking problem?”
“I don’t know,” she muffles behind her hands.
I sit down on the bed beside her. A couple of fingers shift to the side far enough for her to sneak a peek up at me. “Don’t worry.” I pull the blankets over her. “I’m not going to try to fuck you.”
Her hands slide down from her face. “You’re not?”
“Not tonight.” I push a few strands of hair back from her face. “But it’s not because I don’t want you.” I rest my hand on the opposite side of her body on the bed and lean over her. She silently follows my every move with cautious eyes. “I want you, Jaggs. I always have.”
“You have?” The disbelief in her tone surprises me. How could she not sense my attraction? Has she never felt my eyes on her? Felt my conscious fighting to deny her?
“Yes, from the moment I found you standing in the doorway at that bar while I was fucking that nameless chick. You remember?” She nods, and having difficulty confessing the truth, I look at her mouth. “I was so dead inside, giving my body what it needed that night, and then I saw you. You were standing there so reverent, wild, and unafraid. I already knew what kind of person you were, strong and devoted, and then I saw the other side of you.” Giving in to temptation, I touch her full bottom lip. “You’re sexy and beautiful in a way that I don’t think you see. When I look at you, I see that girl in the shadow of the door, and I want to feed the hunger I saw in her eyes.” I pause, following my finger as it slides over her soft, dry lip. “I know it must’ve been hard, wanting the man who hurt you. Believe me, it’s harder for me not to give you what you need.”
She grabs my wrist, the one holding the finger stroking her tempting mouth. The touch snaps my eyes to hers, and what I see there is more dangerous than our closeness.
“Stone.” She whispers my name, and the seductive sound tugs on my cock…and my heart.
“Fuck.” I close my eyes, willing the captivating sight of her from my mind.
“Kiss me,” I hear her say, and I can’t respond, can’t open my eyes, can’t surrender. “Stone, please.”
Unable to ignore her any longer, I lift my eyelids to find her beautiful, insatiable face. I stare at her, contemplating my options and every outcome. I lean down, closer to her partially opened, waiting, and wanting mouth. “One kiss and then you promise to be a good girl and go to sleep?”
A small, dauntless smile slides across her lips. “And if I don’t?”
“Don’t tempt me, Jaggs.” I slip my hand behind her neck and lift her mouth almost to mine. “I will put you over my knee for all the guys in this house to hear and spank your naughty ass.”
Eyes heavy and hooded, she releases a cute cock-tugging moan. “Why do you have to say things like that?”
“Because.” I lightly brush my lips over hers. “I know it turns you on.”
“But it’s not helping the situation.”
I move to her left ear. “And me kissing you will?”
“Stone,” she says my name in breathy appeal, my cock savoring her eager response.
“Yes, Jaggs?” I reply low and soft in her ear, inhaling her essence as every part of her fills my body. “You still want that kiss?”
She grips the back of my neck, and her warm breath skims over my skin. “More than anything.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After last night’s tease, I decided it was best to let the fangirls have Stone for the night, so I hung out with Getty. It’s amazing how much money the band makes off CDs, T-shirts, and posters. I wonder if this is how Stone makes his money. Come to think of it, I don’t know if he has another source of income or if he has a place he calls home. Really, I don’t know what his life is beyond the band.
I put the cash I got for a T-shirt in the metal box with the band’s logo on it and turn to Getty. “Hey, what does SAM stand for anyway?”
“Stupid ass music.” He laughs, straightening out the CDs.
“No way!”
“Yeah.” He tries to cover his smile with his hand. “The guys used to play in our garage, and my mom would always come out and say, ‘turn that stupid ass music down.’ She did it once right at the same time they were trying to come up with a name. They messed around with a few different names, then Stone abbreviated stupid ass music with SAM, and it just stuck.”
“That’s hilarious. Do you tell people?”
“Every chance we get.” He takes the money from the guy standing across the table holding a CD in the air. “It’s a good conversational piece.” He nods at the customer.
“So they’ve been together a long time?”
“Yeah, over ten years. Ya know, Stone was the original lead singer when the band first got together.”
“No,” I say, the news deafens me to the loud crowd chanting for one more song. The band must be finishing up for the night.
“Yeah, but when Stone went into the Army, Derrick took over. Derrick always wanted the slot, and he’s good and all, just not as good as Stone.” He pushes his beanie hat down. “Man, that guy’s got a fucking voice on him and his range, it’s amazing.”
“I didn’t know.”
“No shit! Ya never heard him sing?”
“No.” Then something else disturbing occurs to me. “So when he returned, the band wouldn’t let him take lead again? The guy was serving his country, and they—”
“Oh, no.” He lifts a defensive shaking hand. “It wasn’t like that. Stone didn’t want it. I think Iraq fucked him up. Every once in a while, he’ll do an acoustic solo, but those are few and far between.” He glances around the empty lobby. “Hey.” He looks directly at me. “Is he okay?”
“Okay?” The question throws me out of my thoughts. “What do you mean?”
“Ya know, about what happened back in Cali?”
“Oh.” I stare at him. “You mean when someone dumped him like a pile of trash in front of Crash’s shop high off his ass?”
“What do you mean dumped? What happened? Oh, shit!” His eyes dart around the lobby again. “Dumped! Shit! He’s gotta be pissed at me.”
“Getty!” I raise my voice to break through the kid’s panic attack. “Getty!” He stops and looks at me with slanted bloodshot eyes. Is this kid high all the time? Stone says he’s a pothead, but that’s it. He doesn’t do anything else. “Listen, you seem like a nice kid, but Stone’s not the type of person you should look up to. He’s an addict, and believe me, people like that always disappoint you. So—”
“No! No!” His hands start shaking again. “You don’t get it. It’s my fault.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That night, he didn’t get high, not on purpose. Holy shit!” He puts his hands on the top of his beanie. “Fuck! He must’ve been wasted! Shit, he’s gotta be pissed.” His beady eyes flourish the room.
“Okay.” I touch his arm. “Okay, calm down. Stone doesn’t seem pissed at you, but tell me what you know. What happened? How
did he get high but not on purpose?” Now he sounds like Stone. He tried telling me the same thing, he hadn’t “intended” to get high.
What’s going on here?
“He really didn’t want to do it. I know he didn’t.” Candid eyes shift to mine, and I’m almost inclined to believe the kid. “You see, when he got in town, we met up at the Lakeview Tavern. I had to pick up some weed for a party that I was heading out to later that night. Stone came along for the ride. When I got to the dealer’s place, it was kinda shady, guns on the coffee table and shit, and when the dude started to tweak out because Stone declined his coke, things escalated. I tried to get Stone out of it, told the dude Stone was cool, but the dealer started gettin’ suspicious. And this guy’s not your average friend of a friend dealer. This asshole was the real deal. I’d never bought from him before. Ya know, I got a guy, but he was out of town, so he sent me to his supplier. Anyway, when the two dudes sitting across from the guns on the table started to question Stone and how I knew him, shit like that, well, I got the feeling they thought maybe he was a cop or something. I think Stone caught on, so he did a line and then another, and before I could stop him, he sent me home. I tried, I really did, to get him to leave with me, but when he’s fucked up, he’s hard to manage. Not to mention, he’s a lot older than me.”
“So you left him there?”
“Fuck.” He scrubs white-knuckled hands over his face. “Yeah.” He blows out. “I know, it’s my fault he used. He’s got to be pissed at me. They probably dumped him there.” He rubs his tight-fitting hat, staring up at the ceiling.
“Getty.” I grab his arms and force him to look at me. The poor kid. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure he understood the situation, and obviously, he saw no other way out.”
“Shit! I shouldn’t have left him!”
“No. You did what he wanted you to. It’s okay.” I squeeze his arms. “Listen.” I wait until I have his complete attention. “Don’t worry about it. He’s survived worse. He’s fine. I’m sure he’s not upset with you. Okay?”
STONE (Daring the Kane Brothers) Page 7