by Dawn Ryder
“At least I left the shade down.”
She’d bitten into the toast before Ramsey commented. With her mouth full, all she could do was shoot him a questioning look. He hopped out of his chair with a smirk and pushed a button on the wall. There was a low, motorized sound as what looked like the wall between the bathroom and outer room rose up. What she’d thought was a wall was in fact a window, covered by a colored shade.
That rose all the way up to offer a full view into the bathroom and shower.
“Oh shit.” She almost choked on the toast. “Who in the hell thinks to put a transparent wall into a bathroom?”
Who would want a view of the toilet?
“Guys with too much money who have had so much sex they need to get creative to get off.” Ramsey was rummaging through the other offerings on the table. “Slave play. Fetish stuff. Toilet humiliation.”
“I’m eating,” she said, cutting him off.
“You’re cute when you’re pissed,” Syon said.
“Taz says to clean the cuffs before you give ’em back.”
“They didn’t get dirty,” Kate said as she pointed her knife at Ramsey. “Ground rules. You don’t get to see me naked.”
Ramsey pouted. Syon reached over and shoved him half out of his chair. “You heard her.”
“Alright.” Ramsey righted himself. “Touchy. I thought you two would be a little more mellow now that you’ve—”
“None of your beeswax,” Kate interrupted him.
Ramsey bit into a piece of bacon in reply. Syon was watching her, a guarded look creeping back into his eyes. He shifted his attention between her and Ramsey, taking in the scene. She lifted her mug and extended it toward Ramsey.
“And I like my coffee with cream.”
* * *
“Do you normally sweat during fittings?” Syon drawled softly. “Seems a bit…unprofessional. Like you’re nervous.”
Kate pulled a pin from the cushion she had strapped to her wrist and waved it over the fabric she had draped along his groin. “Sure you want to rattle me?”
He chuckled ominously. “Yes.” The tip of his tongue appeared on his lower lip, sending her heart into a gallop. “You’re fun when you’re pushed past your limits. And I’m betting you like my cock…uninjured.”
She sent him a withering look. “I need this draping.”
He made a low, throaty sound of male satisfaction. “I love feeding your needs. But remember, I need there to be room for a major hard-on.”
She drew in a fresh breath and concentrated. It was getting close, but she needed it perfect. Reaching out, she worked the fabric with her fingers along his hip line. Then from his inner thigh up…up…and over the bulge of his erection.
She looked up at him but settled her hand over his cock. “It was harder when you came off stage in Los Angeles.”
Syon had his arms crossed over his chest. “Guess you’d better find a way to make it work. I hired the best and expect it.”
“You ambushed me,” she corrected. “It would serve you right if these pants crawled up your ass.”
He snorted.
“Umm-hmm.” She stepped back and considered the draping. “Well, I guess if I have to make it work…”
She popped the first latch closure on her corset top. The weight of her breasts separated the front, drawing his attention instantly.
“I love how you troubleshoot,” Syon drawled.
She opened the second one, giving him a view of the sides of her breasts.
“It’s really having an effect,” Syon continued. “A very desirable one. But I should warn you…my resolve to keep you is…hardening.”
She heard the truth of it in his voice. A deepening in the timbre. It stroked her senses, making her nipples tighten into hard little points.
She opened the last one, and her corset split open. This one had straps, so the garment stayed on her body, only open to give him a full view of her chest. She didn’t have a chemise on, so her breasts were in full view.
“Stay right there, or you’ll ruin my work,” she ordered him.
He snorted but settled back into his stance. She stroked the sides of her breasts, slowly trailing her finger down one until she got to her nipple. His eyes narrowed.
“Let me see if we’ve found the solution.”
She reached out and stroked the bulge of his cock. It was iron hard now, and she had to adjust the fabric.
“That’s it.”
She straightened up again to take one last look. “Got it.”
“You’re going to get it as soon as you take this fabric off me,” he warned her wickedly.
She stood still, fingering one of her puckered nipples, enjoying the moment of having control in her hands.
The door to the suite pushed in.
“In here, we have a full leather studio for outfitting the performers.”
Cid walked in, a guy with a huge camera right behind him. Kate gasped, whirling around, but not before the cameraman hooted.
“Right on!” he commented as Cid led him forward. “Perfect shot of those tits!”
Kate succeeded in getting her top closed and turned around to see Cid flashing a smug smile at Syon.
“This is the team from Roadkill. Local fan-based blogosphere,” the road manager said as he introduced them to Syon. Kate was as insignificant as a used coffee cup.
An ultrathin girl was with the cameraman, impeccably dressed in a hot dress with a plunging neckline and short enough that it showed off her tiny butt. She smiled at Syon, batting her eyes and boldly licking her lower lip before she pushed a microphone up to his mouth and started asking questions.
Syon didn’t miss a beat. His voice was liquid sex. The girl’s eyes took on a sultry mode as she flashed him an inviting look. Kate unpinned her draping, trying not to look at the camera.
When they were finished, Cid guided them off to find the rest of the band.
“I got to get ready for the show.” Syon sounded disappointed. “Didn’t expect the interview.” His eyes narrowed. “We’ll have to wait.”
“Does Cid know how to knock?”
Syon shrugged. “I’ll talk to him about it. Don’t worry. Those shots won’t get out. I’ve got to get over to the arena for sound checks and warm-ups.”
Kate looked up from her worktable. She felt the real world jerking them apart. Like they’d been hiding, and now their cover was being ripped away. It was a little strange to discover something as normal as work obligations getting between them. But that added only another layer to their interaction, that touch of normalcy that made it seem much more real.
She was definitely scaring herself now.
She pointed at the draping she had laid out on the table. “Got work to get to myself.”
His expression was guarded. He gave her a single nod and turned around.
It was stupid to get emotional. He was a rock star.
So…she should get busy making him look like one.
At least working with leather restored her balance. It had always been her comfort zone, since she’d first discovered what she could do with a sewing machine. She stroked and worked with the pattern. Time melted away while she was focused on getting it perfect. It wasn’t going to be some universal size. It was going to fit Syon perfectly, with just the right amount of give.
In the right places, of course.
She spent a lot of time going through her stock of hides, searching for the right color and then for one that had a great finish. She settled for a magenta-colored one, deciding it would go stunningly well with Syon’s eyes. Adjusting it on the tabletop, she circled it several times, making sure the pattern was in the best spot before going in with her shears.
She loved the scent, the sensation of cutting through it. But most of all, she loved being mentally mesmerized by the project. Time wasn’t a factor. Perfection was. Syon provided an amazing image for her to try and fit, the over-the-top persona of the man merging with her insatiable love of working
with hides.
She turned up the music and let herself be absorbed by her project. Syon thought she was the best. She intended to show him exactly how right he’d been.
* * *
“I thought you’d be flying high after getting into Kate’s pants.” Ramsey grunted as they came off stage.
“My game wasn’t off,” Syon defended himself. They were both covered in sweat, their hair tangled after the wild performance they’d just given.
They went down the backstage steps as the crowd roared behind them. The noise bounced off the ceiling designed for sound retention and rained down on them. The overhead lights still flashed, making sure the fans left on a high.
“You were pushing hard.” Ramsey reached the performers’ backstage room and ripped a towel off a rack to mop his face.
Syon jerked his hand toward the screaming behind them. “No one sounds upset.”
“I know the difference.” Ramsey grabbed a bottle of water and drank down a third of it. “Just sounded like you and Kate worked it out.”
“We did.” Syon reached for some makeup-remover wipes. Tonight the crap was driving him batty. He needed it off. Fast.
That wasn’t the real problem, but he took out his aggression on his face, working at it until every last trace of eyeliner was gone.
“I need some air,” he said when he was finished.
Ramsey was still nursing the water bottle. He studied Syon for a moment, his eyes narrowing when he came to a conclusion. “She wasn’t here.”
Ramsey hit the nail on the head.
“So what?” Syon shrugged.
Ramsey knew him too well. Syon lifted his hand to wave it off and started out the door. Cid was coming through it, blocking his path.
“Brilliant, mates! Fucking brilliant.”
Cid’s beaming expression faded a tad as he looked at Syon. “Why the clean mug so early in the night? I’ve got plans for you.” He dug his tablet out of his suit pocket and stroked the screen. “Two clubs to visit, and I hear there’s this topless joint near the waterfront that has a reputation for wild parties.” Cid looked up with a smirk. “That should be great for some publicity.”
“I’m out tonight,” Syon said.
Cid caught his arm. “Whoa there, partner. You can’t buy this kind of publicity. The fans want to see you party. It’s all about image. We need those birdies tweeting.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Get in the mood,” Cid said. “We’re not sold out in Seattle yet. A few pictures in the tabloids will take care of that. You can sleep on the road tomorrow. That’s what drivers are for.”
Ramsey hooked him around the neck. “Some guys actually have to work for a living. We have to party. It’s rough, but we signed up for it.”
“Yeah.”
And he felt just as trapped as someone reporting to a cubicle. He didn’t crave the insanity of a club. What he wanted was Kate and the opportunity to take her for a ride on the back of his bike. She was right; they didn’t know each other, and he wanted to change that.
Actually felt like he needed to change it. Fast. Before she slipped away.
She hadn’t shown up at the show.
That stung.
It shouldn’t have.
He should have been thinking about her sleeping because he’d worn her out, and how much energy she’d have when he crawled back into her bed.
But all he had on his mind was the fact that her face hadn’t been in the crowd, and he’d wanted it to be.
Wanted it really fucking bad.
“Text me the address. I’ll meet you there.”
“Whoa…” Cid hooked his arm and turned him around. “You’re not thinking about going back to the hotel for the costume chick?”
Syon stepped back. “So what if I am?”
“I’ll tell you what.” Cid slid the tablet into his pocket. “The fans want to see hot guys living it up. Not you necking with your seamstress. You pay me to manage, so let me do my job. These clubs are pushing your music right now. They expect a visit for that play time.”
“Yeah.”
It was the professional thing to do. Ramsey and Taz were watching him, waiting to see what he’d do. He shrugged and grabbed his leather jacket.
“Let’s party.”
* * *
“You’re drunk.” Taz plopped down in the booth beside him.
“Nope.”
Taz gave him a long look. “You are, and a promise to a bandmate is a promise.”
Syon turned to point at Taz. The girl trying to give him a lap dance giggled as she was dumped across Taz.
“Oh my God!” she squealed. “I so can’t believe it! You guys are so hot!”
Her skirt was about the length of a packing strap, and her top looked more like a slingshot band. She was a bundle of bare flesh and hair and excitement.
Drake appeared and scooped her up. She kicked her feet up with another giggle as he turned around and set her down.
Syon started to get up, but Taz caught his arm and twisted it, so he sat back down with a twinge in his elbow. The little pain cut through the haze of alcohol.
“Maybe I’m a little drunk,” Syon admitted.
Taz nodded, smiling at the horde of girls gyrating on the floor in front of them. Tops were going up, nipples flashing at them as the dancers worked themselves into a frenzy that had the men in the club howling with approval. The bartenders were sweating as they tried to keep up with demand while Toxsin’s music blared.
“Don’t worry,” Taz said softly, handing over a beer bottle. “Your wingman is here.”
The bottle was filled with water, but no one in the place would know. Taz was sipping off a similar one and grinning at the dance floor. He nodded his head in time to the beat, doing a good job of making everyone think he was buzzed on suds. In the dim light, no one was able to see how focused his eyes were.
He was stone sober. Taz rarely got drunk, and when he did, they had a blood oath between them to be there and keep each other from doing something stupid.
Syon tipped the bottle back, trying to hydrate. He was only a little buzzed. Just enough to make him stupid. Like letting someone onto his lap in a public place. At least Cid would be pleased with that.
“Did I let her kiss me?”
Kate wouldn’t like that.
“Almost,” Taz confirmed. “Another few seconds, and she would have had you in a lip-lock.”
His brain hurt, but he tried to focus. “Uh…” The thought escaped him, dropping off into the haze clouding his head.
“You’re welcome.” Taz motioned to some of the security guys to keep the horde of partying fans back. “Got a car coming.”
“I love you.” He couldn’t ride.
Ramsey was on the dance floor, the girls pushing in around him. Cid’s security detail was keeping watch, but Ramsey was living it up.
When the car arrived, they followed the security guys out past the pole dancers. The guys in the club instantly filled the void, coming out of the shadows to hook up with the disappointed girls on the dance floor. The owner of the club shook Cid’s hand before he piled into a second car with his personal assistants.
Yeah, the business side. Cid was working out great.
Ramsey hooted and ripped off his shirt. He tossed it out the window as they pulled away from the curb, to the delight of the screaming fans.
* * *
The door burst in, and Kate sat up with a start. Sound asleep, she ended on her feet and wobbled as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.
“Right here, Ramsey!”
A topless girl was laughing as she danced through the suite. “It smells like leather in here. So hot. I’m going to suck you off right here.”
Ramsey was grinning at her, his erect cock already jutting out through the open fly of his pants.
“I’m going to rip those pants off you,” the girl declared.
“No ripping,” Kate instructed, her wits clearing enough to talk. She r
ealized she was watching Ramsey slip on a condom and turned her head.
“Stay out of my business, bitch. He’s mine.”
There was a wet sound and a groan from Ramsey. Kate stumbled through the door and made it down the hallway to her personal suite. The clock read four thirty in the morning. She didn’t bother turning on the lights, but yanked off her clothes before crawling into the bed.
It was lonely without Syon.
Don’t be a wimp…
Exhaustion took her back down into sleep, but it wasn’t a complete escape. She still felt Syon, longed for him, and knew he wasn’t there with her.
And that she had no logical reason to expect him to be.
* * *
Someone pounded on her door. Kate rubbed her eyes as she heard a key card being used.
“Rise and shine. Check-out time in forty-five.”
It was one of Cid’s guys, one of the black-polo-shirt-wearing dudes that seemed to always be dodging the road manager’s heels. There were girls too. Marketing personnel, publicists, or so they claimed. From what she could tell, they were Cid’s personal entourage. Catering to his whims, always on his coattails.
Among other things, she was sure.
Ramsey’s escapades from the early-morning hours rolled through her memory.
Yeah, catering was the word alright.
You knew what you were getting into.
True.
And yet, she was still struggling to get into the flow.
She heard more pounding on doors up and down the hallway.
Kate rolled over and stretched. She was still tired, but the clock read eleven fifteen. Guess it was a good thing someone was in charge of making sure they were all on schedule. She showered and dumped her clothes back into her suitcase.
She needed to get into the rhythm of life on the road. Staying up until two wasn’t going to work.
But it had been worth it.
She made it down the hallway to where her studio had been set up. She hesitated only a moment before knocking on the door. She gave Ramsey exactly ten seconds before she used her key and entered the suite.
The rocker was nowhere to be seen.
