by Dawn Ryder
“Sex is better when it’s more than fucking,” he rasped next to her ear.
She stiffened, but he held her still, his warm breath brushing her ear.
“There are a thousand different ways to experience pleasure.” He teased the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue. “If you’re honest, you’ll admit he turned you on.”
“Oh…damn.” She wiggled as he traced the entire outside of her ear until he closed his lips around the lobe.
She ended up gripping his shirt.
“I want to know what you like, everything you crave.” He trailed kisses down her neck before lifting his head and making eye contact with her. “I want to know that I satisfy every fantasy you have, so you don’t go looking for it without me.”
“That’s nuts…” she whispered.
“So is the pull between us,” he said.
“Does that line really work?”
His face tightened, irritation flickering in his eyes.
“Who’s Todd?” Syon demanded.
Her wits were dulled by the idea that she’d insulted his cheesy line. “What?”
“Todd.” Syon massaged her neck. “Percy said Todd called looking for you.”
She pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. “Are you actually jealous of an ex-boyfriend?”
“Not if he’s an ex.”
He leaned over and teased her neck with a flick of his tongue. She stretched away from him.
“But it’s just fine if your buddy Ramsey is sitting next to us while we make out or more?” Kate asked.
“Mmmmm…I like the idea of more.”
He was going for her neck again, and she was sure she was going to combust if he succeeded. So she flattened her hand over his mouth, but it backfired. He captured her wrist and turned it up so he could tease the sensitive skin on the underside with a kiss. She shuddered, the sensation rocking her to her core. She was fixated on his mouth against her skin. He rolled back his lips and bit her gently.
She felt like she was flying apart.
“I can’t do this…”
He locked gazes with her but maintained his grip on her wrist, and his thumb stroked the wet spot he’d left.
“He’s an ex, so no complication,” Syon insisted. “I want to explore why I kissed you. Kisses are intimate for me.”
“I guess they would be,” she said, recalling his protection plan for his throat.
His tone had deepened. “I don’t indulge very often. I’ve been thinking about the way you taste all night. Should have been focused on the risk I left myself open to.”
Two years. It seemed impossible, but there was a little bubble of joy growing inside her as she contemplated having something no one else had from him. “That’s hard to believe, Syon.”
He stepped up, moving too close again for rational thought. She pressed a hand against his chest, and the connection shocked her with a jolt of lust.
“Believe it and google it, you won’t find a single picture of me in a lip-lock with a chick.”
He pressed a kiss against her mouth, sucking and teasing her lips with expert motions. He was constantly undermining her ability to form cohesive thoughts. He ripped the very foundation of her world away and left her floundering in a flood of need. She moaned softly and gripped his shirt.
Someone pounded on the door of the RV. “We’ve got to roll, Syon!” Ramsey hollered from outside. “Playtime is over.”
Syon gave her one last, hard kiss before releasing her. “On my way,” he growled. “’Cause I’m sure not coming.”
Her jaw dropped, and he chuckled at the look on her face.
“I think I like scandalizing you, Kate.”
She snapped her mouth shut and tried not to think about how much she wanted to come too. “I’ve noticed.”
He pointed to the driver’s cockpit. “Kenny is driving. He’ll switch out in four hours. This coach is the office. A couple of bunks are in the back. Normally Kenny’s relief driver beds down there, but he switched over to one of the other RVs so this can be female only. Make yourself at home. There’s TV, Internet, shower works while we’re moving, pretty much everything. For the price, it better be outfitted right. I’ll be in the music coach if you need me. We’ve got a show in Oakland in two days. It takes a day to build the stage and set up. The crew will have your shop set up by tomorrow morning so you can work while we’re rehearsing.”
“What’s a music coach?” she asked.
“A traveling music room. Costs a bloody fortune, but it’s worth it. Gives us the chance to work on new songs while we’re moving or parked in back of a convention center.”
Ramsey banged his fist on the door again. Syon flashed her a grin before disappearing. The door closed, and she heard the engine start.
“We’re going to start moving, Ms. Napier.”
She jumped when the driver’s voice came over the sound system.
Well hell. Everyone knew who she was and what she was doing.
Except for her.
The coach shuddered as the powerful engine started up. Kate sat down on the sofa, realizing Syon had somehow managed to turn her into his personal pet.
She had her very own luxury pet carrier to prove it.
* * *
“She’s hard to please,” Ramsey fired off the moment Syon climbed into the music room coach.
The rest of the band members were fiddling with their instruments as the drivers began the task of moving Toxsin to its next concert location. Engines turned over, filling the area with a dull roar.
“Having a chick along is going to kill the mood,” Taz added as he tuned his guitar.
“She’ll have her own space,” Syon insisted. “We got another three months on the road. Without her, we’re going to look like shit and be reduced to buying off the rack at a Harley Davidson store, because you’re all just as hard on your gear as I am. None of you has more than two pairs of pants left either.”
There were several reluctant “all rights.”
“Why did you have to kiss her?” Ramsey accentuated his question with a squeal from his guitar. “You’re a total prick when you’re stuck on a girl.”
Syon flipped Ramsey the bird as he picked up his guitar and began to tune it.
Kate was making him crazy, but he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. The spark of excitement stirring up his insides made him realize how bored he’d been. Easy pussy was like junk food, cheap and unsatisfying in the long run.
“She’s like a breath of fresh air,” he argued.
Drake and Taz groaned.
“I thought the last one cured you of your tender-heart issues,” Drake said from behind a set of drums positioned at the back end of the motor home.
“We did get ‘Insatiable Craving’ out of it,” Taz mused.
“Yeah, but we had to restrain ourselves from putting the poor bastard out of his misery,” Ramsey added. “My trigger finger is already itching.”
Syon pulled on a few of his strings, filling the coach with noise. “I’ll remember all that love coming from you, Drake, the next time I have to bribe a bouncer to turn a blind eye when you get too shitfaced to keep your hands off the strippers, and he wants to have your ass hauled off to jail.”
“All right…I guess we need to look good. But I wish we could have brought the guy along, even if he has a taste for sausage,” Taz grumbled before putting his energy into the music. He was the only member of the band without long hair. Instead, he had short spikes that accentuated his Asian features.
People looked up when they drove past—there was no way to contain all the sound inside the coach. The rest of the band was in good form, but Syon caught Ramsey watching him a few times.
Ramsey knew him too well.
When they broke off, it was Ramsey who put his guitar on its stand and moved over to sit beside Syon. Ramsey began nursing a beer. The silence grew between them while the other members of the band waited to see what Syon would say.
“The rule is ‘no drugs,’ not ‘no drug addicts,’” Syon clarified. “She’s got some good business sense in that pretty head. Can’t really blame her for not wanting to lose a chunk of her holdings because the dude was packing a rock of meth.”
Ramsey tipped the long neck back before answering. “I guess I can live with that.”
Taz and Drake were taking silent notes at the other end of the coach. Syon shared a look with each of them before he drew in a deep breath.
“We need a leather artist, and there aren’t a whole lot of choices if we want a good one,” Syon continued.
Ramsey’s eyes narrowed. “Do you hear how many excuses you’re making? We’re not playing in piss holes anymore. We get whatever the fuck we want, when we want it, and you sure as shit don’t have to put up with a woman playing hard to get.”
“She’s not playing,” Syon shot back.
Ramsey snorted.
“Maybe I like the fact that she doesn’t just jump my bones the second she’s hot.”
“I bet she likes it too, because you’re already showering her with stuff. We’re stuffed into two coaches so she can have her girly privacy.” Ramsey tossed the empty bottle across the coach where a trash can sat.
“What the hell is your problem?” Syon demanded.
“You!” Ramsey yelled. “You’re messing up what was working just fine.”
“I’m solving our fucking wardrobe problem.”
Drake started hammering on the drums, drowning out everything. He kept at it until Ramsey got up and retrieved another beer from the fridge. Syon lifted his leg and laid it across the sofa, making it clear he didn’t want company. Taz joined Drake, driving home how much the rest of the band didn’t want to hear him and Ramsey going at it.
So Syon got up off the sofa and started playing. Music was the one thing he and Ramsey always agreed on. Fame had been good to them all, but there was still one thing it couldn’t deliver: happiness. Ramsey was pissed at the world because he was the same man he’d been before they became megastars. Fame didn’t drive their demons away.
As for himself?
Syon wasn’t sure. Even with all the fame, he still craved acceptance. And Kate had been so goddamned hot in his arms. His cock hardened just thinking about it.
But she was holding back. Struggling against the tide of desire trying to drag them both out to sea. On one hand, he admired her. But on the other, maybe Ramsey was right. She might just be working him over, holding out just long enough to get the leash around his neck.
He wished to fuck he knew, because he’d spent too much time working to be where he was. It was gonna suck if he ended up like Ramsey: so pissed he couldn’t enjoy the success he’d earned.
But Kate didn’t want him because of that success. Which made it just a little bit funny.
If he’d had a taste for irony.
* * *
The coach was a marvel.
Kate spent a good hour just exploring it. There was a kitchen that someone had stocked with the basics in miniature. Kate lifted the tiny Tabasco bottle, enjoying the fact that it was still made of glass. Beyond the kitchen was a full-size shower. The bathroom was across the hall and had a nice vanity with a marble top. If she hadn’t been able to feel the vibration from the road, she would have thought she was in a hotel room. A really nice one. Once they parked, there were sections that would slide out to make it feel very roomy.
Farther back were the two bunks Syon had told her about. Each one had a privacy curtain, flat screen TV, and even an Xbox.
There were also mirrored ceilings, and condoms discreetly stored by the pillow.
She suppressed a giggle. Well, at least they weren’t shattering her fantasies of how rock stars lived.
The back of the coach was a large office. It contained a full-size desk, computer, and printer all latched down. On all three sides of the office were cleverly designed windows with little half arches on the top to make it feel like an office building.
Kate felt a slight shift as the caravan of coaches began to climb the mountainous stretch of highway in the middle of the state known as the Grapevine, the motor coaches taking surprisingly well to the steep incline of the road. They must have gotten crap for gas mileage though. Once they made it to the other side, the interstate became a straight shot up the state of California. The coach settled into a steady gait as the miles passed.
And boredom set in.
Kate tinkered with her tablet, browsing Toxsin’s website to discover where she was going. Oakland, Portland, and on to Seattle. She’d be a bold-faced liar if she didn’t admit that the European stops excited her.
A phone buzzed in the kitchen, but she was too comfortable in the bunk, so she let it ring. It probably wasn’t for her anyway.
A few moments later, another phone started buzzing in the bunk. She jumped and looked around for it. The inconspicuous wall mount held a phone so slim, she hadn’t seen it until she was lying down in the bunk.
“Hello?”
“What are you wearing?” Syon drawled on the other end of the line.
She laughed. “What are you wearing, pretty ginger lady?” he rasped out again before she could answer. The space between them suddenly empowered her, because he was too far away to overwhelm her.
“A silk corset and a short, flared skirt with a garter belt and hose.”
“Hmmm…panties?” He sounded like he was smacking his lips.
Danger…danger…
The warning went unheeded. Syon was sucking her back into that vortex of insanity.
“No panties, ’cause it’s an all-girl zone.”
There was a groan on the other end of the line. “I guess I started it,” Syon came back at her after a long pause. “We’re stopping for fuel and grub, if you go for fast food.”
“No thanks. I want to live past fifty.”
“There’s fresh stuff in the fridge.” Syon stopped for a moment, and she got the feeling there was something else on his mind.
“And?” she pressed.
“There’s going to be a couple of the crew guys standing by the door. Fans can get a little crazy. The guys are there to protect you, but they’re packing heat, legally. So don’t flip out if you see a piece.”
“Worried I might jump a Greyhound bus back to Los Angeles?” she asked.
“Are you thinking you might regret it if you did?” Syon countered.
Her mind froze for a moment, heat licking at her insides. His tone had dropped to that husky one he used when he was burying his head in her hair. A tingle went across her skin at just the memory.
“Touché,” she muttered, feeling awkward.
“We’ll roll into the Bay Area around ten. Want to go for a ride with me?”
“Are you asking me on a date?” She toyed with a lock of her hair, feeling as breathless and awkward as a seventeen-year-old.
“Are you surprised?”
She clicked her tongue at him. “You keep answering questions with questions.”
“You’re the one with a rule about dating rock stars,” he answered smoothly. “I’m searching for a loophole. Is a ride on the back of my Harley a date?”
Oh hell, she’d forgotten about the Harley.
“Okay, I’m feeling mildly guilty about telling you rule number two. It might also be—only a slight possibility, mind you—discriminatory.”
“And totally fucking unfair to me,” he hammered home. “You’re rock star–phobic.”
“In my defense, rule number two was made after dealings with several of your colleagues who thought fittings included bedside service,” Kate said.
“I waited until I was down to my last pair of pants before calling a costumer in, because I’m sick of getting my package grabbed during fittings,” he responded.
Touché, again.
And she was starting to like the guy.
“You don’t back off, do you?”
There was a very male sounding grunt on the other end of the line. “You don’t w
ant me to, Kate.”
“You’re arrogant,” she said, stating the obvious. “Presumptuous.”
“I’m taking command of the situation,” he countered. “Don’t worry, I’ve been trained.”
“I notice you aren’t arguing with the arrogant charge.”
“You’re as turned on as I am.”
“That might not be a good thing.” As in epic crash and burn on the horizon.
He took a moment to reply. “It might be an explosive thing. Only one way to find out. Take a ride with me.”
He was arrogant, but there was something sexy about it. They had more in common than she’d realized.
She felt the coach slowing down as it exited the interstate. “You’re on.”
You’re a lunatic…
“Cool.”
Kate replaced the slim phone on the wall mount and worried her lower lip for a moment.
A date.
She was so screwed.
And too damned giddy about it.
* * *
Showering while rolling down the freeway was going to take a little practice.
Kate yelped as she cut herself with the razor because she’d lost her balance and twisted it.
She knocked her head on the upper bunk when she laid her suitcase out in the lower one and tried to find a matching outfit. Everything was a huge mess, because she’d just thrown things indiscriminately into the case. By the time she got dressed, she was flustered and growling.
At that point they were pulling into the city of Oakland, winding their way through industrial sections of town. Kate saw the concert center in the distance and hurried back to flip her case closed and zip it up. The driver of Kate’s coach rolled up behind the semis into the loading area of the Oracle Arena. Air brakes hissed, echoing off the concrete. A loud whoop came from behind Kate as the band spilled out of their mobile music coach, like kids hearing a recess bell.
The sun had set several hours ago, but huge floodlights illuminated the loading docks. Even at ten at night, teams of dockworkers converged on the semis. Up on the docks, there were supervisors with tablets, holding black radios up to their ears. The backs of the trucks were opened, and cases marked with “Toxsin” were being wheeled inside as team leaders barked orders.
“You really had the corset on?” Kate turned to see Syon coming up behind her.
