Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “I don’t keep whores. I keep mistresses.”

  “Pretty it up all you want to, Kiln, but we both know you don’t see me as a mistress, so it’s your turn to cut the bullshit.”

  Game on. I’m going to break her if it kills me. I smile coolly. “Remember that when I introduce you to everyone as my whore. Understand?”

  She stares at me with intense stoicism.

  I neglect to tell her that I won’t start searching for Montana until my plans with Sean are finalized in a few days. If he’s dead, rushing to find him won’t do any good, and if he’s alive, hopefully he stays that way until I find him. All that matters is her belief that I’ll start searching immediately.

  “How much money are you willing to give to me for toiletries?” she asks, trusting that I intend to start the search for her brother’s body immediately.

  “I’m in a giving mood tonight. I understand your need for ready cash, so

  I’ll give you fifty bucks a week.” It’s what I spend.

  Sudden anger reddens her face. “Fuck off. Keep me a free whore rather than a cheap one.”

  In case she hasn’t realized, she won’t be free. But I’m curious.

  “How much were you expecting?” Probably something astronomical like one or two grand per week.

  Finally, she chances another look at the blood on the floor and her features crumple again.

  Why are we still in this death house?

  Oh, right. She refused to do things my way.

  “I expect a hundred dollars a week,” she says softly. “It’s a lot just for toiletries but sometimes I like to see a movie. It relaxes me.”

  She thinks a hundred bucks a week is a lot? I wince. Soon enough, she’ll discover Sloane has a movie theater in his house. “Done.”

  Chapter Nine

  By the time we return to the mansion, I’m drained. Not wanting the key to serve as a morbid reminder of the place where my brother died, Kiln left the key at the diner and the doors unlocked. I’m never returning to the place, so who cares what happens to it.

  We didn’t talk on the ride back. We’d said everything important at the diner. Besides, I just don’t have it in me to speak.

  “Come on,” Kiln instructs.

  My surroundings come into focus. I’m out of the Ferrari, near the bumper, in a garage. The garage door is already closed, and Kiln has opened a door leading into the house.

  “Raine!” Kiln calls.

  My legs move but my mind is still in a fog. Inside, we walk into a little room where shoes are lined up. We end up in a hallway that has a set of steep stairs. Glancing up is like looking into a black abyss.

  Kiln keeps walking until we end up in the family room.

  He stops, so I do, too. I stand and stares, remember the blood and brain.

  “No more tears,” Kiln orders. “Or the deal’s off. I can’t take weepy women.”

  The sight and scent of blood replays over and over in my head. Chambers killed my brother. No matter Kiln’s doubt, I know Montana is gone. I want so badly to believe otherwise.

  Like, maybe, he got the jump on Chambers. Or, maybe, Chambers killed someone else. Except Montana’s license is in my pocket. Smeared with dried blood.

  Fresh blood. I swear the blood was still warm, when I first found the ID, but that’s only my imagination.

  Thoughts of Montana’s blood nauseates me, and I want to sob, but, somehow, I swallow it, determined to bury my grief and my pain. I’ve done it before. I can do it again.

  “Are you hungry?” Kiln asks.

  A room enclosed in frosted glass draws my attention.

  “Sloane’s studio,” he says.

  Wrapping my arms around my waist, I nod.

  “Are you hungry?” he repeats.

  “Ummm…” My voice trails off.

  When did I last eat? This morning, I think, when I went dumpster diving. Was that only today? Where food is concerned that doesn’t matter. My body has adjusted to eating infrequently. Besides, my hands and the clothes I’m wearing are stained with my brother’s blood. I couldn’t eat if I wanted to. “No.”

  He shrugs. “I am. Follow me. I want to show you where everything is so you can have breakfast waiting for me when I wake up.”

  His words penetrate my brain. Another reason I need to bury my devastation is because I have to be on my toes to deal with Kiln. If I’m not, he’ll walk all over me.

  Therefore… “I didn’t tell you I knew how to cook,” I retort.

  “I didn’t ask if you did. If you don’t, learn fast. Otherwise, I’ll have to dock you.”

  Montana wouldn’t want me to be a push over, even if I am grieving. Until I find my brother, I have to survive. Afterwards, I can fall apart. If I do it now, Kiln will eat me alive. For a final time, Montana needs me. I have to pull myself together.

  “You can’t dock me because you didn’t tell me I had to cook in the first place.”

  “I told you you’d do whatever I requested of you.”

  “If you tell me to kill somebody you expect me to do it?”

  He nods, then bends and shoves his face into mine. “Whatever I tell you to do. What didn’t you understand about that?”

  “I’m not a killer.”

  “Are you a cook?”

  “I know how to cook. I wouldn’t win any culinary awards, but I wouldn’t send you screaming for the toilet either.”

  He crooks his finger at me. “Follow me.”

  Having no choice, I do as I’m told. Unlike before, I pay attention to my surroundings. The kitchen is this amazingly huge place with large windows, shelves of cookbooks, a huge refrigerator, and all types of amenities that I’ve never before seen in person.

  He opens all three doors of the refrigerator. Fresh and frozen food pack the shelves.

  “If there’s something you want but you can’t find it, let me know and I’ll have it ordered.”

  He closes the doors, then starts pointing to cabinets and drawers, fast-tracking my knowledge of where the utensils are, as well as the pots, pans, dishes, spices, and dry foods.

  “If I request something and you don’t know how to cook it, use one of the cookbooks.”

  “I want bacon, eggs, toast, hash browns, fresh fruit, and scotch. I’ll be in the family room. I have an early meeting tomorrow, so hurry up. I require at least four hours for my beauty rest.”

  “Try five,” I tell him sweetly. “Four isn’t cutting it.”

  “Very fucking funny.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  He glares at me. “Cook.”

  Is he really this callous? Or just plain insane? “I’m not going around food while I’m covered in blood.”

  Montana would’ve enjoyed such a hearty meal. I shudder. I’ll be in this big, beautiful house while my brother is…stop, Raine.

  Life goes on. Despite everything, life goes on.

  Kiln’s gaze searches mine. Instead of coming up with a pissy comment, he studies me, then removes his T-shirt.

  Muscle layers more muscle, creating a chest of sculpted perfection, a rock-hard stomach, and powerful arms. He’s tall, seemingly hewn from stone, with sculpted features—strong jaw, straight nose, dimpled chin.

  Tonight, I’m in no mood to perform or pretend I’m orgasming to help achieve his happy ending quicker.

  However, I’m actually leering at this beautiful man. My tongue feels as if it has hit the ground in cartoony mimicry. Saliva forms in my mouth, waiting to release in pools of drool.

  I can’t do this…My brother’s dead. How can I admire Kiln’s body? Sex isn’t that great for me, anyway. My body is a commodity and adding in his gives me bank. Two hearts don’t meld into one and all that smarminess.

  No, my equations are more practical. One pussy plus one dick equals food. Safety from Chambers’ wrath. Money in Montana’s pocket. It means a lot of things, but not love or pleasure.

  Slinging his shirt over his shoulders and not caring where it land. He grasps my waist and guides me
in front of him. His big hands burn through the soft, thin material as he grabs my shirt hem and pulls it over my head. Automatically, I lift my arms, so he can remove it completely.

  Forgive me, Montana.

  My pain is lost to Kiln.

  He catches my gaze and holds it as he carelessly throws the expensive shirt I was wearing. He reaches around me and unfastens the pretty bra. I can’t look away. My complexion is light olive, but his skin is still tan against mine.

  He flattens his palm against my belly, then caresses one of my tits. His touch is surprisingly gentle.

  I want to ask him to hold and comfort me while I cry, but I won’t. I’m here to serve him, not the other way around.

  My brother’s gone; however, I’m alive. To live, I have to survive.

  For the next six weeks, I’ll have a place to stay. Real food to eat.

  Kiln tips my chin up and thumbs away a renegade tear. Threading his fingers through my hair, he pulls me closer and plants a soft kiss on my lips.

  “I lost my sister years ago,” he tells me quietly, thumbing away more of my tears. “I know you’re suffering, but that pain goes away. Eventually, you’ll remember the good times, sweetheart.”

  “My heart is shattered,” I say through sniffles. “My brother’s my everything.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry. That sounds so selfish. You lost your sister, too, and I’m sure you felt the same.”

  He kisses me again and I lean into him, lay my head against his chest, stealing the comfort I need. His heartbeat is strong and steady. At first, he just stands there, then he slowly wraps me in his arms. I cling to him.

  We cling to each other.

  He stares into my eyes. Shades of blue and green gaze down at me. I want to look away and break our connection.

  I can’t. He mesmerizes me.

  I search for words to offer him, but I don’t know what to say.

  “Stefanie drowned,” he says. “That shattered me.”

  “That’s so sad. It must make your work relationship with Sloane extra special. You two share a sad bond. His sister drowned, too.”

  He stiffens, and I lay my fingers against his lips.

  “That was callous of me. I’m not very good at comforting others.”

  He pushes me away. Coldness seeps into his eyes. Our brief moment is gone.

  “Do you know what else draws us?” he sneers, then continues before I respond.

  We have the same father.”

  My mouth drops open and I widen my eyes. “Really?” I squeak.

  “But the motherfucker doesn’t want anyone to know. He wants the spotlight all to himself.” Bitterness fills his words.

  “I’m sure he has a reason for it. He’s your brother. He’s probably just looking out for your best interest.”

  He glares at me. “Someone else who believes Sloane can do no wrong.”

  “That isn’t true,” I protest. “He’s human, so, of course, he’ll make mistakes.”

  “Just drop the fucking subject.”

  None of it makes a bit of difference to me, so I easily agree. “You got it, dude.”

  A moment passes, then he draws in a deep breath, returns to me and slides his finger from the center of my open bra down to my stomach.

  “I’m ready to fuck,” he announces.

  Ppppopppp! His words burst the fantasy I’d momentarily created. They are a killjoy. Not that I’m not used to it.

  It’s just…fuck it. Whatever.

  Dropping my gaze, I bring my hands to his zipper.

  “Look at me,” he demands.

  I don’t want to. Not in the least little bit.

  One of the first rules of my profession is to not be ensnared by a pair of gorgeous eyes, ringed by equally beautiful lashes.

  Okay, fuck it. That might not be the first rule. That has to do with no kissing. Or, maybe, it’s no getting attached.

  Fuck, okay. I don’t know what the fuck the exact rules of whoredom is. I make my own, so there.

  My number one rule is don’t let a beautiful jerk of a man transfix me with blue-green eyes that promise me absolutely nothing.

  My next rule is not to allow that same man to bend his head and lock lips with mine. Clench your lips together.

  I open immediately, reveling in his taste. In his control of this situation.

  Not in a mean way like some johns do. In which case I shove my foot in their dicks, make a little noise, and Montana runs to my rescue. My brother…no…NO…NO!

  He’s not here.

  Kiln tastes my mouth, exploring and touching all the valleys and recesses with the soft pad of his tongue.

  He smells like expensive cologne and beer, not rankness and sweat and grime. I melt into him for a completely different reason. Seizing my submission, he kisses a pathway from my mouth, down my neck, and to my exposed tits, licking one of my nipples. He circles his tongue, then runs it up and down, before sucking the nipple into his mouth and biting. I throw my head back, and gasp. My pussy is so hot, wet, and ready.

  It’s almost as if he wants me so turned on, I can barely think straight.

  He lavishes the other nipple with the same attention and unbuttons the jeans and slides them, along with the panties, down my legs. I step out of the backless heels, then kick the clothes away, while he pulls a condom out of his wallet.

  “Let me,” I tell him, holding out my hand, once he pulls his cock out.

  He doesn’t protest and holds out the foil wrapped packet to me.

  It’s my turn to hold his gaze as I remove the condom and place it on his dick tip then get to my knees. My lips and tongue manipulate the latex, unrolling the condom over his cock.

  His cock throbs, and he gasps. I reward him with a few sucks before standing and placing my hand on his shoulder, intending to climb upon him.

  He lifts me in a one-arm hold. I wrap my legs around his waist. Together, we guide his covered cock to the entrance of my wet cunt. He thrusts up, while I impale myself on his big dick. He’s deep inside me, pulsing against my nerve endings, sending heated shivers through me. My pussy walls burn and clench, vise-gripping his hard cock.

  “Oh, yeah, baby,” he grunts.

  We fuck each other fast and hard. My tits jiggle and bounce. My hair falls around my face. My insides burn and throb. We groan, share wet, sloppy kisses, our mouths barely meeting as our tongues duel.

  He pulls out of me, and I start to slip to the ground. My bones have melted. My body. My skin.

  He turns me around and I stumble. Attempt to regain control. Now is where I have to suck him off. Instead of pushing me to my knees, he lifts me onto the stool, pulls me to the edge and thrusts into me again. He rubs my pussy, then brings his glistening finger to my lips. I inhale the scent of myself and suck his finger into my mouth, licking every bit of my juice.

  I massage my slit, gathering my pussy pudding. Bringing my fingers to my mouth and holding his gaze, I lick my pussy from my fingers. His eyes darken and glaze over.

  I’m wetter than I’ve ever been. Having a man wanting you to come is so different than stealing an orgasm. I toss my head back and thrust my tits up.

  He angles his cocks, dragging it out of me, torturing my clit, then sliding in again in the same motion. My belly tightens, and I roll my cunt against his hot cock.

  He works the tip of the condom against my clit, then shoves deep into me, working me into a frenzy. He’s holding me up by my waist. Gripping the stool, I lift up on my tiptoes.

  “Goodddd,” I howl.

  I gasp and scream, stiffen and shake. But Kiln’s ruthless. He fingers my clit, still pumping into me. My screams rise, and my pussy constricts, then expands. Kiln lines his chest against my back, and brings his hand between my legs. “Come for me, Raine.”

  My eyes roll back in my head and stars dance behind my lids. I see space. I see heaven. My brain, my being, swarm with pleasure and heat.

  “Good girl,” he rumbles. He bites my earlobe and I come again.

  The rough no
te in his voice makes pussy juice explodes from me.

  He laughs. “You’re a squirter,” he breathes. His breath fans my ear. “Your cunt cream is all over my balls. I love it, Raine. Fucking adore it. It’s so fucking hot, baby. You were right. Your cunt is so juicy. It’s the juiciest cat I’ve ever had.”

  My legs tremble and my entire body tightens. “Kiln!” I gasp.

  “My turn.” He rams into my trembling body.

  “Give me all of it.” That’s my usual script. This time, it’s meant, even if he’s wearing a condom. Also, as usual, “My pussy is begging for every drop.”

  He pounds my pussy faster, deeper, harder, then collapses on top of me. His teeth clamping down on my neck. It’s primal and animalistic, but I love it.

  “That worked up my appetite, I was hungry before. I’m starving now,” he says a moment later. “I could eat an elephant.”

  No guy has ever gone down on me before. Still, I know how to talk bullshit. As a matter of fact, I’d be an excellent phone sex operator.

  Straightening, I hold onto the counter until I get my balance, then I turn and smirk at him. “Is that all you can eat?”

  We look at each other and giggle like little kids. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such a carefree moment.

  “I need food, woman! Now.”

  “I didn’t fuck my way out of cooking?” I joke.

  He kisses the back of my head. “No, doll. I’m a big man with big appetites.”

  “I’m not touching that one with a ten-foot pole.”

  “Why not? I gave you so much material to compliment me.”

  “You mean to swell your head even bigger.”

  He nuzzles my neck. “Swell my big head all over again, right, Raine?”

  I grin. “Lame!”

  He yanks the condom from his cock and ties it at the end. He throws it in the trash can underneath the counter.

  Spying the shirt he’d taken off, I go to it and scoop it off the floor before putting it on.

  “I’ll go easy on you. Make me a sandwich. After I eat it, I’ll show you where we sleep.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” I tell him, promising myself to make the best of the next six weeks. Kiln might be a little rough around the edges, but he really isn’t that bad.