Flirting with the Rock Star Next Door

by Nadia Lee

  I knocked on his door and started to bite my nails as the seconds ticked by. What if he wasn’t home? A car was parked in the driveway, but he was a rock star. He might have other cars—or a Harley. What would I do if he wasn’t home?

  What if the snake followed me? It could smell me, right—

  I whirled around, expecting to see serpentine jaws of doom expanding to engulf me. But apparently the snake was contenting itself with taking over my house.

  I turned back to the door. Now I almost wished I’d let Killian play his obnoxious drums. Then I would’ve known he was home for sure without this nauseating anxiety twisting around in my gut. I felt like throwing up.

  He could be ignoring me because of the kiss. Maybe he’d been insulted that I jumped back and told him I needed to work. Most women probably melted and magically incinerated their clothes when he kissed them.

  Argh. I banged on the door with all my might, as though if I just hit it hard enough, he’d appear.

  “Killian!” I yelled. “Killian! Come on!”

  “Okay, okay!” came a grumbly voice from the other side.

  My knees shook, almost buckling with relief. I propped my hand against the wall for support.

  He stuck his head out, his eyes flinty. “Yeah?” Then he took a closer look at me and straightened, concern softening his gaze. “Whoa, Emily, are you okay? You need to sit down?” He put a hand on my forehead. “You feel clammy.”

  “Oh my G-G-God, I…” My teeth were chattering. Thank heavens I wasn’t alone in my fight against the snake that had taken over my home. “There’s this, this…”

  “Okay, you need to sit down.”

  “I need to go home.” No, that came out wrong, because I couldn’t go home on my own. “We need go home. Over there. To my house.”

  He gave me a look. “Why?”

  “There’s a snake inside! And I need your help.”

  His eyebrows quirked briefly, then settled into a serious V. He pressed his lips together. “A snake?” he said finally.

  I nodded. “A huge one. Vicious.”

  “I see.” His eyebrows pulled tighter until the V was narrower and even more solemn.

  Shit. He was realizing the gravity of the situation, and didn’t want to risk his life. Well…should’ve expected that. Why would he, after what had happened in the morning? Maybe I should’ve pretended to swoon at his feet, my arm wrapped around his thigh, imitating one of those clinch poses from an old-school historical romance.

  “If you don’t want to go, can I borrow your phone to call 911? Maybe the cops could come and shoot it.”

  The muscles in Killian’s jaw flexed. He was probably insulted again, guessing—correctly—that I’d figured out that he was too scared to risk his masculine neck. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of the snake for you.”

  My whole body went slack with shock and gratitude. “You will?”

  “Of course. If I don’t do it, who will?” He shrugged, like rescuing women from man-eating snakes was something he did every day.

  “You aren’t going to sue if you get hurt, right?” I asked just to make sure. It would be an expensive lawsuit. “You called your insurance agent to expand your policy to cover your whole body?”

  He looked at me like I was some kind of alien. “I have enough insurance to cover my bases. Come on.” He gestured at me to follow as he started moving toward my house.

  “Me?” I squeaked.

  “Yeah. Somebody’s gotta show me where the vicious snake was last seen.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Killian

  Emily stayed close behind me as I made way over to her place, which was good. I didn’t know how much longer I could maintain a straight face. It’d taken all my willpower to not burst out laughing back in my house.

  Kingstree had a few varieties of harmless, non-venomous snakes. They usually only ate bugs, or maybe frogs or field mice—sometimes baby birds if they were quick enough. But from Emily’s reaction, I wouldn’t be surprised to find a thirty-foot, man-eating anaconda in her home.

  Call the cops so they could come and shoot it dead. Ha ha ha. I could just picture Sheriff Claymoore’s face. His thick gray mustache would quiver in sync with his bushy eyebrows. Then he’d laugh that wheezing laugh of his until he doubled over. They might end up having to defibrillate him.

  I bit my lip hard. I’d been feeling pretty irritated and upset about how the breakfast ended. I hadn’t believed my ears when I heard Emily bang on my door and scream my name.

  She undoubtedly hadn’t changed her mind about the ten minutes. But at least she thought I was good for disposing of scary wildlife. I’d settle for that…for now.

  The door to her house had been left completely open. Good thing we lived in a town as safe as Kingstree.

  I stepped inside. Emily stuck to my back close enough that I could feel her body heat through our shirts, and it felt damn good. My body perked up, ready for a continuation of our kiss earlier, because it didn’t know nothing was going to happen until I took care of the scary snake.

  “So. Where’d you see it?” I asked, my voice slightly huskier than normal.

  “Over there.” She gestured without sticking her head out from my back.

  “There…where?” I asked again, all innocent.

  “In the dining room. I was walking toward the kitchen, and it just leaped out of the blue to attack me.”

  “Leaped, huh? Must’ve been traumatizing.” For that poor little garter snake. I’d have to gently pick it up and let it out. It deserved no less after the ordeal it’d been through.

  “It was. I thought I was having a heart attack.”

  I pressed a knuckle to my lips because Emily would murder me if I laughed. I managed to produce a sympathetic growl, then walked further into the house.

  She followed me as though that would keep her safe. Which was an encouraging sign. At least she felt secure around me. A big step in the right direction.

  Although her reaction to the snake was overblown, I understood. Most women couldn’t stand snakes. When Mir had first seen one, she sprained an ankle in her rush to get away. At least Emily hadn’t hurt herself.

  And there was part of me that was pleased she was sticking so close. It was as though she understood I could keep her safe from the super-evil viper of doom that had been threatening her. I bit back a smile of satisfaction. God had obviously created snakes to make men look good.

  Then I spotted it—a green and mustard-yellow reptile. It wasn’t even two feet long. Barely big enough to overpower a fat mouse. It was on the floor underneath the dining table. Probably cowering in fear, since it had no real defense mechanism against predators. Or somebody as big as Emily or me.

  Mischief sparked in my mind. I made a slow half-circle. Emily did the same, her hands on my sides. They felt soft and warm, and her fingers kept moving like they couldn’t decide on how to touch me. Or maybe she was copping a feel, which I was totally okay with. Hmm. I wondered if she’d feel me up like this when we rolled around in bed, naked.

  But first…

  I turned my head to look at her over my shoulder. “So, what color was the snake?”

  “Green and brown, I think?” She wrinkled her nose. “It was mottled.”

  I flicked my gaze beyond her head. “Oh shit! Is that it?”

  Before I could point, she jumped on me, screaming like a spooked banshee. She wrapped her arms around my neck, cutting off my air, and clamped her legs around my waist. I gripped her forearms and pulled them down so I could breathe, then tried to enjoy the feel of having her wrapped around me for a moment. But it was hard to appreciate how feminine she felt when she was shrieking. “Shh! Stop screaming. It’s going to come at us if you do that! They don’t like it when you’re loud. Noise pollution, remember?”

  The high-pitched yelling cut off abruptly. Her body was so tense that it was almost shaking.

  “Snakes don’t like it.” Do not laugh, I thought. That would ruin ev
erything.

  “Really?” she whispered.

  I nodded, doing my best to set my face into my most serious expression. Just in case there was a mirror in the room somewhere I didn’t know about. “Yeah.”

  Her voice grew quieter. “Aren’t you talking too loud? You should whisper.”

  “I’m a guy. Vocal register is too low to bother snakes.” Totally making shit up, but it sounded scientific enough. And how was she going to know? She had no access to Google. She had to rely on Killianpedia.

  “Damn sexist snakes.” Emily shifted, still clinging to me. I could feel all of her—the lean, strong muscles of her legs, the softness of her breasts crushed against my back. She seemed solid and real, and I appreciated that after being surrounded by women who were mostly stick figures with some silicone chest stuffing. The spots where Emily’s tits were pressed seemed to tingle, making my blood rush to my dick. Jesus. Was the back an erogenous zone for men?

  I could feel her swiveling her head as she looked around. “Can you do something about the snake if you find it?” She was so close that her lips brushed my neck as she whispered, her breath ticklish.

  I almost didn’t want to move, just so she would continue to say stuff. I didn’t care what came out of her mouth as long as she stayed in this position.

  But I wouldn’t be much of a hero if I didn’t eventually get rid of the snake. So I said, “Of course,” trying to infuse my voice with as much casual, manly confidence as possible.

  With Emily still clinging to my back like a koala, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a pair of barbecue tongs. Then I went back to the dining room, squatted down and grabbed the snake with them. The snake wasn’t quick enough to escape. Emily let out a small squeak and buried her face in my neck. I almost groaned as she tightened her hold on me because my mind went to sex…and I wondered if she’d cling like this when she came.

  I put the snake down out in the backyard. It fled immediately, parting the grass as it moved away. I watched it go, then went back inside. Emily stayed glued to my back the whole time.

  “Is it dead?” she asked in a small voice, probably to avoid attracting the snake’s attention.

  I made a vague noise in my throat, enjoying the feel of her. “It’s been dealt with.”

  “But it’s alive?” she whispered against my neck. Jesus, this was erotic.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Won’t it come back?”

  “I doubt it.” The weather was too warm for it to want to hide inside a house.

  “You’re not sure? I can’t have it come back.”

  “The problem isn’t it coming back,” I said, not wanting Emily to climb down my back.

  “It isn’t?”

  “No. You know how snakes are cold-blooded?”

  “Yeah…”

  “That means they need a way to keep warm.” I let it sink in.

  “Okay. So it’s going to be back.”

  “Not it. They.”

  “They?” Emily squealed.

  “Not so loud.”

  “Oh my God! What do you mean, they?”

  “Snakes live in dens. With other snakes. They ball up to help stay warm. People do it, too. You know, in the wild when you’re stuck in a blizzard or something. You huddle together, and it helps you survive.”

  “So…what? You think there are more in here?”

  “Could be. You never know.”

  A shudder ran through her. It wasn’t exactly like a sexual climax, but it felt good anyway. “What do I do? Can I stay with you until we make sure they’re all gone?”

  Normally, I’d say yes. But lust was raging in my body, and the petty part of my mind brought up how she’d said I was only worth ten minutes of her time. Therefore, I shouldn’t give in easily.

  “What’s in it for me?” I asked.

  “Um.” She squirmed some more against my back.

  Jesus. My dick said, Man up. She might offer to sleep with you. Women sleep with guys who perform heroic deeds.

  Don’t count on it, I shot back at my one-track cock. Women also offered to sleep with rock stars, but Emily wasn’t even close to interested.

  “How about dinner?” she said finally. “You like pizza?”

  Was she serious? She could do better. “I can buy myself a pizza.”

  “Okay. How about shrimp scampi? I make a great scampi.”

  Well, then. I liked Italian. And having dinner together was a good next step. Like a date. Besides, based on how she ate crackers and junk food all the time, I could see how cooking for someone would be a big deal to her. “I accept.”

  “Hey, can you grab my laptop and phone on the way?” she said, still on my back.

  “Why?”

  “I have to work. I’m about to wrap up Molly and Ryan’s story.”

  “Molly and Ryan’s story” still sounded weird. But I picked up her electronics without arguing. “Anything else?”

  “No, that’s it. Now carry me out of this nest of serpents!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emily

  After calling the local pest control and animal removal company for some emergency service, I spent the rest of the day at Killian’s house working on my manuscript. Although Killian gave me full use of his dining table and took himself into the living room, I was braced for endless interruptions I couldn’t do anything about.

  Sad to say, most people didn’t respect my time because I was home. Which to them meant I wasn’t doing anything worthwhile. That was the biggest reason I no longer bothered to date. None of the three men I’d been involved with before moving to Kingstree had learned the art of entertaining themselves while I was working. In addition, since I was “just on my computer,” they’d thought they had every right to bother me, no matter how many times I explained I was working. They hadn’t respected the fact that every time they tapped my shoulder or talked to me, I was pulled out of my flow, and it would take me at least half an hour to reimmerse myself in the story.

  However, I couldn’t dump Killian because we weren’t dating. I needed him more than he needed me, and I owed him dinner for taking care of that awful snake.

  But—amazingly—Killian stayed quiet. He put on a headset and read one of the books he’d borrowed the day before. The peace and quiet lasted the entire afternoon, and I had to admit I was impressed. Or maybe my book is just that damned good, I thought with satisfaction.

  Finally, I typed the long-awaited The End, emailed it to my editor and jumped to my feet, closing my laptop. “Yes!”

  It was done, done, done! I was sure I’d get hundreds of comments to review later, but for now, the thrill of having the basic manuscript finished was sizzling through me. It was the best thing I’d written, and if it didn’t resonate with my readers, I didn’t know what would. I couldn’t wait to see Dad eat his words!

  Killian looked over from the couch, raising his eyebrows. I gave him both thumbs up, and he pulled the headset off. “All done?”

  I grinned. “Yup. This baby’s off to my editor.” I put my hands up in the air triumphantly and did the “my book’s finished” celebratory butt-wriggle dance. “Ooh yeah.”

  He laughed. “No wonder you write romantic comedy. You’re cracking me up.”

  “Don’t let the dance fool you. I’ve considered writing dark, angsty romance, too.”

  “So why don’t you?”

  “Because my first book was funny, and it took off. Lucy told me I should stick to what works.” Then I added, “Lucy’s one of my closest friends. She writes romantic thrillers, and she’s brilliant.”

  He smiled, genuine pleasure lighting his eyes. “Does this mean you’re ready to head out to grab whatever you need to make us dinner?”

  “Is it already time to start thinking about dinner?” I asked, looking around for a clock.

  “It’s a little after four.”

  The scampi itself wouldn’t take too long, but the shopping… Well, that was another matter. I picked up my phone and checked
to see if there was a message from the pest and animal removal company. Nothing yet. “Let me see what you have in your fridge. I don’t want to assume anything.”

  “We’re gonna need at least the shrimp. But I’ll go to Sunny’s with you, to help carry everything.” He flexed his arm muscles ostentatiously.

  I laughed. “Okay.”

  His offer ended up working in my favor because I suddenly realized I didn’t have my keys. I’d left them in the house. And I wasn’t setting foot back in there until I knew it was safe to do so.

  So Killian drove us in his SUV. The inside was surprisingly clean and tidy, and the radio played some music I didn’t recognize, not that I’d expected to. Some woman was singing, so it wasn’t his band. I snuck a peek at Killian from time to time, just moving my eyes sideways so he wouldn’t know. His long, lean fingers were wrapped around the wheel, the index finger drumming steadily to the beat of the song. My mind went back to what happened between us that morning. It had felt amazing, his hand wrapped in my hair, trapping me, while his mouth moved coaxingly over mine. Like he couldn’t bear to let go… Like he’d wanted me to want him with the same intensity.

  My lips tingled. I placed three fingers over them, as though that would stop the sensation. But it only intensified the throbbing, and I pulled out my phone to pretend I wasn’t still affected by that kiss.

  You know, if that kiss and the snake rescue had happened in your book, your heroine would be totally doing the hero by now, an unhelpful voice pointed out.

  Yeah, but this wasn’t one of my books. In real life, women didn’t just sleep with men for that, especially when the man was a neighbor she had to see every morning. Things could get awkward real fast.

  He’d said he’d need at least two hours. But what if he didn’t get to use up all one hundred and twenty minutes? What if the sex was just okay? Not that I wanted to make assumptions, but he was a rock star, and his groupies had undoubtedly told him he was a sex god no matter how he performed.

  Although, based on how my body had throbbed every time we touched… Maybe he was better than average. But experience had taught me that there was no such thing as “mind-blowing” sex in real life. Just some nice orgasms here and there.