Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1)

by Kitchell, Laura

  Holding the doors open, he poked his head out and shouted, “FlameSmith? Where are we sleeping?”

  Justina came running on thin, clumsy legs, her high heels clacking on the hard floor. Halfway across the lobby, her shoe slid sideways. She laughed, flailing to prevent a fall.

  “You’re a mess,” he accused.

  “I know.” Breathing hard, she clamored into the elevator and hit the ninth floor. “Your room or mine?”

  “My aide didn’t give me my room key. Probably should’ve stopped by reception and picked up a spare.”

  “No problem. Stay with me. It’ll be fun.”

  He studied her tangled, dirty-blond hair that had lost its curl and now appeared stringy and dingy after the night’s abuses. Her dress fit ill on her too-thin frame, and she smelled vaguely of sex. He suspected she’d either lost her panties at some point, or hadn’t bothered to wear any in the first place. How many fingers had felt her tonight? How many men had she screwed? He didn’t doubt she’d gotten V off at some point with that mouth.

  He used to not care. It hadn’t mattered. But it did now.

  Kendel always smelled pretty, and her hair looked soft and sexy. He never wondered about her cleanliness. He liked best that she seemed to have her wits about her every minute.

  Damn it, he hadn’t wanted to think about her. About how she’d snuggled against him in her sleep. About how he wanted to feel her silky hair between his fingers and across his chest. About how he wanted to bury himself in her sweet warmth.

  He groaned.

  “Oh, yeah, baby,” crooned Justina, an erotic gleam in her hooded, cloudy gaze.

  He swallowed his revulsion. “I appreciate the offer.”

  The elevators opened and he led the way off. She hurried ahead of him then walked backward while licking her lips and filling her hands with her breasts.

  “Not tonight.” Not ever.

  “Come on,” she purred. She stopped at a hallway intersection and pointed down one. “I’m this way.”

  He studied her for a second. She made all the right moves and said the right words, but her smeared eye makeup and limp hair made her attempt to seduce a pathetic one. He would need to be far drunker to find her appealing.

  He needed to find Kendel.

  * * *

  The sound of her shouted name roused Kendel from an exhaustion coma. She glanced at a bedside clock. She’d only gotten thirty minutes of sleep. Sitting, she recognized Burn’s voice as he called her once more.

  As if moving through water, she rolled from bed. Her thighs and ass protested. Apparently while she slept, the soreness from her hill climb had set in. She hobbled to the door, intending to hush him before he woke people. Then she remembered she’d left most everyone at the after party, and they had the entire floor.

  A woman’s laughter rang out, and she hesitated.

  “Kendel. Where the hell’s my room?”

  She yanked her door wide and met his narrowed gaze. “You’re drunk.”

  “I’m bladdered, more like.” He shouldered past.

  “Hey!” she yelled at his back before he went from sight behind her bathroom door.

  Justina took a step toward her room.

  “Don’t even think about it,” said Kendel, lacing her voice heavily with threat. Burn was with the groupie tramp? It bothered her more than it should.

  The groupie sized her up. “You look like shit. You shouldn’t do blow. It doesn’t become you.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but Burn emerged, zipping his pants and doing a cute wiggle.

  “Blow?” he asked. “Jay gave you cocaine?”

  “No! God. I’m just tired. Please get out so I can go back to sleep.”

  “I need my room key.”

  Instantly contrite, she said, “That’s right. I’m sorry.” She handed him his key from her back pocket. “You’re next door.”

  He glanced at her bed. “Where’s Jay? I thought you came back with him.”

  Astounded, she opened her mouth then closed it. He thought she would go to bed with a married man? “You must think I’m a real lowlife. We shared a cab, and he spent the ride showing me pictures of his kid on his phone. Really, Burn? You think I’m capable of wrecking a marriage?”

  His face went blank. Then his forehead furrowed, and he said, “Sorry. I can be blinkered.”

  “If you mean drunk, I agree.” Kendel moved behind him and tried to push him toward the doorway. Her thighs screamed, but she ignored the pain. “I swear. You tell me at the concert that you think I’m fabulous then come here and call me a slut.”

  He didn’t budge, an amused smirk quirking one corner of his kissable mouth.

  “What? A slut can’t be fabulous?” asked Justina from the hallway, planting a hand on her cocked hip.

  “No.” Anger made Kendel shake. Why had she believed Burn better than this? “At least you know what you are, but I know what I want.”

  “Oh, honey. I know what I want, and he’s standing right here.” The groupie’s lips parted in a wolfish grin.

  Kendel gave him a fierce shove, and he actually shifted a step. “Have at him. I’m going to sleep.”

  “I don’t think you’re a slut,” he said. “I think Jay’s a slut, but then I knew him before he married. Maybe he’s changed. I don’t know.”

  She stopped pushing on him and slouched. “Would you please leave? I’m really tired.”

  He eyed his keycard front and back. “Fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She closed the door behind him then crawled into bed. Justina? Really? Did the guys simply pass her around? And why did the groupie let them? Didn’t she have any self-respect?

  Somehow, she found her way back to sleep, but morning came too soon. Her clock read six-thirty when she opened her eyes. She tried to return to sleep, but she couldn’t.

  She pulled her phone off its charger and checked today’s itinerary. A bus ride to Seoul, an album signing at a music store, a music-television interview, and then another concert. A nonstop day. Smiling, she left the bed. She’d get to see some of Korea today.

  Chapter Ten

  Knocking woke Burn like knuckles to his forehead. He cracked open one eyelid and shouted, “Cease!”

  “Then get up and open the door,” said Kendel from the hallway. “I have your breakfast.”

  He glanced at his clock, which said nine. What time were they scheduled to leave? He couldn’t recall.

  She knocked again.

  Groaning, he stood. He glanced around his room and withered. She couldn’t come in here. On his way to the door, he grabbed a pair of jeans.

  When he opened his door, she made to come in, but he put a hand on her shoulder and joined her in the hallway.

  She scowled, glancing at the pants in his hand then down the hall. “You’re indecent. People will see you. You should be careful how you look in public.”

  “That would require me caring what people think, and I don’t.”

  Her gaze softened and met his. “Are you hungry?”

  “In your room.” He ushered her next door.

  “Fine. Geez, you’re a pain.” She keyed him inside.

  Her carry-on sat by the door, and her room looked like nobody had stayed the night.

  “You don’t have to make the bed, you know. Maids are only going to strip it later.”

  She glanced over and shrugged. “Habit, I guess. Is Justina still in your room? Is that why you didn’t want me to go in?”

  Her cringe made him smile. “Why are you concerned for Justina?”

  “I’m not,” she said, her tone too light. She set a large paper bag on a small table by the window and sat in one of two chairs. “My concern is with you. You’re my employer. I’m just trying to do my job.”

  He stepped into his jeans then joined her at the table. Delicious smells escaped the bag as she opened it. “Bringing breakfast to my room is hardly in your job description.”

  “I thought you’d appreciate it. Everyone
else is downstairs eating in the restaurant. The buffet sign said American-style breakfast, so I figured…”

  He studied her. She hadn’t looked at him since coming in here, and tension tightened skin around her mouth and above her fine eyebrows. “Justina didn’t stay with me last night. She’s not in my room.”

  Her hands halted, and her large blue eyes lifted to his face. The tiniest hint of a smile touched her lips before disappearing. That briefest of pleasure in her countenance stabbed a thrill straight to his groin, making his member stir to semi-arousal.

  Her gaze lingered a fraction too long then dropped to the bag. She set a plastic-covered bowl before him and took another. “They gave us chopsticks and forks.”

  “Chopsticks.”

  She handed him a set then lifted the lid off her bowl and sent a plastic fork into a mix of stringed vegetables. “Soda or water? I wasn’t sure?”

  “Soda.”

  “Me, too.” She smiled, withdrawing two red cans from the bag and handing him one.

  He opened the cola then removed his bowl’s lid. It contained the same as hers. “So what is this?”

  “Something called bulgogi and pibimbop. The beef is barbequed, and the vegetables are crunchy.”

  “Is it spicy?” Korean food, in his experience, tended to be hot, and he didn’t know if his stomach could handle it the night after a concert.

  “I don’t like food that bites me back,” she said, shaking her head.

  He laughed.

  From the bag, she took a small covered plastic cup that contained an orange sauce. “Here. You can add this and it’s supposed to make it spicy.”

  “No, thanks.” He used his chopsticks to try a piece of beef. When it tasted of steak and had a tender chew, he lifted his eyebrows. “This is really good. This is what Koreans eat for breakfast?”

  “I’m not sure.” She had a swallow of soda. “Most restaurants aren’t open this early, but the ones I found open on my app showed only one menu. I think they eat the same foods all day. I couldn’t find a differentiation between breakfast, lunch, or dinner.”

  “Interesting.” He tried the vegetables and found them tender but crunchy. Cabbage, carrots, bean sprouts, and a couple white ones he didn’t recognize all entwined into a sort of salad that had a distinct taste he liked. She rose another notch in his estimation.

  “Do you trust me yet?” She gazed at him, her lovely eyes expectant as she chewed.

  “Don’t ask me to trust you, Kendel. I’ll only disappoint you. I’m not capable. I promise I’ll try to be a halfway decent employer, and I promise you’ll travel the world while working for me. That’s all I can give you.”

  Shaking her head, she looked at her bowl and used her fork to move food around. “I think there’s more to you, Burn. You know, peel an onion…”

  “Yeh, I’m not really an onion. More like a turnip. What you see is what you get.”

  “Yeah? Then what are you hiding in your bedroom? And if Justina’s not in your hotel room, how come we’re eating in mine?” She forked vegetables between her full, naturally pink lips.

  “Not as tidy as I’d like, I fear. Certainly not as tidy as you appear to live.” He dragged his eyes from her mesmerizing stare and ate more beef.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Because she was clearly far brighter than an assistant should be. He filled his mouth with pibimbop and made a show of chewing.

  “We’re running out of time, you know,” she said and glanced out her window. “I think that’s our bus.”

  “Shit. I still need a shower.” He half-stood and caught sight of a rounded, gray bus roof rolling past far below, followed by another.

  She grinned. “No problem. You take a shower and I’ll get you packed.”

  Regaining his seat, he barked a laugh. “Excellent attempt, but no. You check us out. I’ll meet you on the bus.”

  They sat in silence for a few more bites then Burn took the can of soda to his room. He’d have to guard carefully when around Kendel. She was entirely too smart for his good.

  * * *

  “Where the hell is Burn?” demanded V, pulling Justina up the bus stairs.

  Scrunching her nose at the diesel smell leeching into the bus’ interior, Kendel pointed at a bellhop hauling Burn’s black suitcases toward the bus. “Here come his bags. He can’t be far behind.”

  “I’m always the last one,” said the lead singer, striding toward the rear with the groupie by her hand.

  Justina cast her a satisfied smirk, but Kendel had the truth from Burn.

  Jay sat sideways across two seats and drummed his sticks on the back of the seat in front of him.

  “Clear off!” Air poked his head around and grabbed for the sticks but missed. “I’m trying to sleep.”

  Dan went to the top of the steps. “Chivvy along. We’re behind schedule.”

  Carrying two cups, one stacked upon the other, Burn came through the exit and offered a wave then jogged toward the bus. He looked refreshed, and his wet hair appeared black in the morning cloudiness. A plain gray V-neck T-shirt hugged his torso and tucked into a snug pair of midnight blue jeans.

  Kendel averted her gaze and settled into a window seat. She hated how she wanted him, and she especially despised how much it pleased her that he told her he’d spent the night alone. She believed him, too. The man had a cranky streak, but he wasn’t a liar in her experience.

  The Korean driver followed him inside and took a seat behind the wheel while Burn took a picture of his friends then scanned the seats. Kendel peered out the window, hoping he’d sit far from her. She wanted to see the sights, but if he sat in view, she’d stare at him. The man was way too handsome.

  He took the seat beside her.

  Sighing, she refused to spare him a glance. “There are plenty of empty seats.”

  “I’m aware. Here, I got you this.”

  She eyed an insulated cup where steam escaped a hole in its lid. “I’m not a coffee drinker.”

  “It’s buckwheat tea. Try it.”

  Reluctantly, she took it. Her fingers brushed his, and a heat that had nothing to do with the cup raced through her. Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard.

  He seemed unaware of his effect on her. “I had some last time we visited. It gives you sustained energy without chemical stimulants. Tastes like cereal.”

  She sampled a taste. He was right. It tasted like honeyed oats. “I thought rock musicians were all for chemical stimulants.”

  He chuckled. “It’s not fair to stereotype, though V probably fits the image perfectly. Maybe I did too, once.”

  “But not anymore?”

  “No. Not anymore. Thank you for breakfast.” He cut her a sideways glance then took a sip from his cup. “It was a good nosh up.”

  “Two thank you’s? You’re going to destroy the impression you worked so hard to make on me in Hollywood.”

  He smiled “You’re cheeky.”

  “Sorry.” She resisted an urge to graze her fingers along his freshly shaven jaw. She couldn’t decide if she liked him better this way or with his dark scruff.

  “Don’t be. I like it. I like that you’re not afraid of me. You treat me like a regular person and expect me to behave. You have from the first moment. Of course, I’m not a regular person and I rarely behave, but I appreciate that you try.”

  A surprised laugh bubbled out of her. “I’ll keep trying.”

  He took a sip then sank his cup into a cup holder as the bus began down the hill toward the airport highway. “Excellent. Excellent. Listen, I’m zonked. Wake me when we’re nearly there.”

  “The tea’s not working?”

  He closed his eyes and scooted lower as he reclined his seat. “It’s for when we get to Seoul. It’s actually quite tasty when it cools.”

  She enjoyed his peaceful countenance for a while then turned her attention out the window. The undeveloped landscape looked foreign, the wetlands stretching for miles in purple and red vegetation cut in
to strange, otherworldly shapes by gray, reflective water. Soon, they entered a freeway through Incheon.

  As it began to snow, Burn’s hand found hers. She glanced at him, unsure what to do, but he slept deeply. His long fingers splayed over his middle while his other hand gave hers a squeeze. Behind his eyelids, his eyes moved in dream. She smiled a bit and returned to the view.

  For the most part, Incheon could’ve been any other large city. She recognized signs for coffee sellers and restaurants popular in America, and block-style buildings offered nothing unusual in way of architecture. The occasional Christmas decoration made her smile, and a digital billboard announced a holiday extravaganza, but the details were written in Korean. Every now and then, an ancient statue or a unique sloping roofline created a fascinating aspect and gave her a thrill.

  She could tell they left the greater metropolis as traditional rooflines increased in number and traffic thinned. Burn slid toward her until his head came close to her shoulder. The bus’ warmth had begun to lull her, and she didn’t want to miss anything, so she removed her band jacket. She balled it and positioned it to form a pillow against the armrest between them then put his head on her shoulder.

  He sighed and snuggled nearer. Part of her adventured across Korea out the window, but part of her quietly soaked in the sweetness of having this beautiful man sleeping on her.

  She glanced at his hand holding hers. Maybe he didn’t trust her with his eyes open, but he did when unconscious.

  Chapter Eleven

  Burn drank his tepid buckwheat tea and tried to climb out of his grogginess while Kendel checked them into their next hotel. Upstairs, she directed a bellhop like a pro, inspected his room, then paid the man in Korean money.

  “Are you sure you haven’t done this a hundred times before?” he asked, sitting on his bed.