Kissing Vicious

by Brooklyn Ann

  “Right,” she whispered.

  “I’ll see you guys in Saint Paul.” He walked off and she stared at her hand, unable to believe she’d gotten a handshake and a pep talk from Dante Deity.

  The get-together after the graveside service was anything but solemn. In an enraged defiance of death, the drinking, noise, and revelry eclipsed any normal party. Overwhelmed by the chaos, Kinley felt a wave of gratitude when Quinn snuck her back to his hotel room early.

  Lying in his arms watching Harold & Maude, she rested her head on his shoulder and released a contented sigh. She’d never known she could be this comfortable with a man. That she could share her body and affection with someone and he wouldn’t treat her as an inferior afterwards.

  For the first time in her life, she didn’t hate her femininity. The respect and admiration in Quinn’s eyes when he looked at her made her feel proud of her appearance. The protective way he held her made her feel safe, like she didn’t have to face the world alone. And the way he made love to her made her feel like he was genuinely making love, not just fucking a convenient hole, like her past boyfriends.

  It can’t be this perfect forever, her inner voice taunted. He’s going to drop your ass as soon as the tour’s done, or he’s going to turn out just like all the other misogynistic pricks you’ve dated and break your heart.

  Both prospects made her heart freeze in dread, yet she couldn’t bring herself to regret snatching this brief period of happiness. Especially when Quinn’s fingers tangled in her hair to pull her up for a kiss.

  ***

  Rain pattered against the windows of the tour bus as they headed for the show in Fort Lauderdale. Quinn only half listened while Gaffer went over changes to the tour. Only thirteen shows and six weeks remained.

  He leaned back against the wall, feeling like he was staring into a rapidly approaching void. What would happen with Kinley after the tour? She lived almost four hundred miles from him. Would it be out of line to ask her to move to Seattle? Between the struggles and joy of working with her and maintaining their relationship, he hadn’t dared ruin their brief moments of bliss by bringing up the future. And, to be honest, he was scared shitless even thinking of it. Scared of the prospect of losing her.

  Ever since Kinley came into his life, everything in his world seemed to have more meaning. Her courage and determination to do her best motivated him to do the same. Her passion and dedication for the music renewed his own. The endless touring and traveling from gig to gig once more gave him excitement and a sense of purpose. Most of all, her very presence gave him something to look forward to, something to cherish.

  Gaffer’s voice cut through his musing. “Quinn? Have you heard a fucking word I’ve said?”

  His eyes never left Kinley, who was practicing on Curt’s acoustic and patently ignoring the groupies on the bus. “Yeah, you said Deity’s gonna be twenty minutes late to the gig.”

  Gaffer followed his gaze. “You’ve got it for her bad, don’t you?”

  Unable to deny it, Quinn nodded and crossed his arms. “I want her to stay on with us.”

  “Stay on with the band or just with you?” The road manager raised a brow.

  His teeth clenched before he answered honestly, “Both.”

  Gaffer sighed. “Some of the guys here wonder if you’re thinking with your dick—but I agree. She’s a hard worker and a damn fine guitar player, but Curt will be back eventually.” He cracked open a beer and lowered his voice. “I don’t know if we can keep her as a guitar tech since she lives so far away. We’ll just have to take it up with her, discuss her options. Maybe she could work in the studio for the next album. It’s not my department, but who knows?”

  “Maybe that’ll work.”

  Gaffer’s idea gave him hope. However, the road manager’s earlier words had Quinn frowning in irritation. “If I was thinking with my dick, I would have asked her out rather than agreeing to let you hire her.” He scowled at his band mates and road crew, though he couldn’t blame them for their thoughts. Lowering his voice, he continued, “And I wouldn’t have bothered trying to keep our relationship secret. Hell, she’s still insisting that we act professional in public, though everyone probably knows what’s going on between us.”

  Gaffer nodded and inclined his head toward Brand, who had a groupie writhing in his lap. “And I bet it’s driving you crazy.”

  He couldn’t hide his glum tone. “A little.”

  Quinn watched Kinley glance up and roll her eyes at Brand as his giggling companion ducked her head under the covers, leaving little doubt as to her intention. He wouldn’t mind receiving the same attention from Kinley, though not in front of everyone.

  The road manager smirked. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think she’s just as irritated when the chicks climb all over you after the gigs.”

  He stroked his chin, suddenly speculative. “Is she now?”

  A slow smile spread across Quinn’s lips as his gaze swept over his girlfriend. Kinley was his and it was time to end this ridiculous secrecy. Time for the world to know that she belonged to him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Viciöus arrived at the Louisville gig for the load-in, Phil headed over to start hooking up her gear. Kinley frowned. That had been her job and she still hadn’t gotten used to not doing it anymore. Stubbornly, she unpacked the guitar herself. Though Phil had kept his word to Gaffer and had treated her civilly since she joined the band, Kinley couldn’t bring herself to trust him.

  Quinn gave her a crooked smile and shook his head as he walked by, hauling an amp. The sight of him doing the work himself was strange. The fact that he was her boyfriend was even more surreal.

  Quinn returned hefting another amp. Her belly fluttered at the way his muscles flexed.

  “Can I help you with that?”

  For a moment he looked like he’d refuse, but then he nodded. “Sure. You know, one of the guys called you ‘Mighty Mouse’ on your first day with us.”

  She chuckled. She’d been a grunt then and now she was part of the band—well, temporarily. What would happen when Curt came back? Would Quinn allow her to go back to being his guitar tech? Or was her job only good for this tour? Kinley realized they’d never discussed the duration of her position—or this relationship.

  Lacking the courage to bring it up now, she changed the subject. “How are ticket sales?” She prayed they hadn’t suffered too much because a woman had taken Curt’s place.

  “Much better since we got Deity to step in.” Quinn grinned. “We were lucky to get him when we did. He’s due to start his own tour in two months.”

  Kinley nodded. She still couldn’t believe Dante had agreed to help them out. He even let her interview him a few weeks ago. He’d been the most polished, intelligent subject she’d ever had. Apparently he was a total bookworm and had a thing for medieval history. And he was a complete workaholic. While everyone else was partying, he was working on a song, reading, or organizing one or another of his many charity projects.

  When she and Quinn finished loading the amp, he pulled her into his arms and took her lips in a soul-searing kiss. “I can’t wait until this gig is over with. I’m dying to get you alone.”

  She nodded, speechless with desire. Their hands touched briefly before they headed to the dressing rooms.

  Just when she’d finished touching up her lipstick, Kinley’s phone rang. A Bleeding Vengeance song trilled, signaling it was Kat. Another pang of guilt twisted her gut—she hadn’t called her friend since Lefty’s death.

  Kat practically shrieked over the phone. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you’re now the lead guitarist for Viciöus and dating Quinn Mayne?”

  Oh fuck. It seemed there was no reprieve after all.

  “Who told you we’re dating?” she asked defensively.

  “Today’s article on Rocktalk featured a picture of you all dressed up together over a candlelit dinner!” Kat snarled. “Not only did you not tell your own best friend about this, b
ut I had to read about it on one of our rival sites? What the fuck, Kin?”

  “Marianne…” Realization sank in. “That bitch must have followed us to the restaurant after she interviewed Quinn.”

  “Who?”

  “The night Lefty died, Marianne from Rocktalk had an interview with Quinn and afterward she got all over him.” Kinley’s fist clenched at the memory of that skank pawing her man. “He turned her down and we went out to dinner. She must have snuck into the restaurant to take pictures.”

  For a moment, her best friend reacted in outraged solidarity. “Dude, that’s fucked up! And did you read Rocktalk’s post on Lefty? They sensationalized the hell out of it, like it was entertainment and not tragedy.” Then betrayal crept back into her tone as she returned to the topic at hand. “Still, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it only started recently, and I haven’t had any privacy since I went on the road. As for me being their stand-in guitarist, after Lefty died, things got hectic.” Kinley scanned the corridor of the backstage area, making sure she was still alone. “And, really, I didn’t want anyone to know there was anything going on between Quinn and I. At least not yet.”

  “Not even your best friend?” Kat replied in a wounded voice.

  Remorse coupled with frustration made Kinley shout out in desperation, “I didn’t tell you what was going on because I don’t know what is going on. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but I really don’t know! I don’t know if this is serious, or if I’m just an elevated groupie, or what this means for my career. And God knows what’s going to happen after the tour’s over. And now that I’m part of the band, and now that it’s out that Quinn and I are a couple, everyone’s going to be thinking I’m another Yoko Ono.”

  Kat snorted before her voice softened. “No, it makes total sense, coming from you. You always worry too much about what people think and about your mythical ‘guy card’ getting revoked because you have feelings like any other human being. Just tell me everything from the beginning.”

  Kinley took a deep breath and poured out the entire tale of her and Quinn’s rollercoaster courtship. When she finished, a measure of invisible weight lifted from her shoulders.

  “Wow,” Kat said quietly. “Do you love him?”

  Kinley’s heart clenched. “I think so.”

  “Then enjoy yourself,” her best friend commanded. “Fuck everyone else. Just live in the moment and I’ll try not to be too jealous that you’re living the dream and dating a rock star.”

  “Thanks, Kat. And I am sorry for not telling you sooner.”

  “It’s fine. I understand how you are. But I still had to yell at you a bit.” Her tone shifted suddenly. “Now that I got that off my chest, I have some news for you. I broke up with Richard.”

  Kinley couldn’t stop a huge grin from spreading across her face. It was about time Kat got rid of that skeezy, controlling prick. Even though she wanted to congratulate her friend, she tried to sound sympathetic. “Really? When? What happened?”

  “He hit me,” Kat said quietly.

  A red haze obscured Kinley’s vision. “What the fuck? I swear, when I get back home, I’m going to beat his ass.”

  Kat managed a weak laugh. “I love that you didn’t ask like everyone else what I said or did to provoke him.”

  “That’s because there’s nothing that would justify him treating you like that,” Kinley snarled. A long time ago, Kat had confessed that her real father had beaten on her and her mother until he went to jail for it. It was too bad Kat’s stepdad died in that fire. Kinley knew he wouldn’t have let Richard touch his stepdaughter. “Did you file a restraining order?”

  “I did after he wouldn’t quit coming by my house and harassing my mom when I was at work.”

  “Good.”

  “I gotta go. Mom got back from the video store and we’re going to pop popcorn and watch Kill Bill and First Wives’ Club.”

  Kinley laughed at the combination. “Give her a hug for me, okay?”

  After hanging up, she joined the band backstage, tapping her foot to Deity’s music coming from the stage. Her reassurance from Kat’s pep talk faded as she saw the crew passing around the latest issue of Rocktalk.

  Phil looked positively gleeful as Brand cursed. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us you were banging the guitarist? Now everyone’s saying that’s why we hired her.”

  Tony looked at Brand, head cocked to the side. “How did you not know? It’s been obvious before they even knew it.”

  “Curt’s the one who asked her to step in,” Quinn reiterated. “Not me.”

  The bassist whirled on him with a glare. “And I didn’t see you arguing against it, or at least pointing out the conflict of interest.”

  “I didn’t argue against it because she’s a damn good guitar player. All of you must agree because not one of you had a problem with it either.” Quinn stepped closer, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “And there’s no conflict of interest. What Kinley and I do offstage is our own business.”

  “Then why keep it secret?”

  “It’s what Kinley wanted.”

  All eyes darted to her and it was all she could do not to flinch from the scrutiny. “I didn’t want anyone to know because I knew this shit was going to happen. I want to be judged by my merits, not by who I’m sleeping with.”

  Before anyone else could speak, Gaffer held up a hand. “Enough squabbling. It’s almost time to go on stage. Remember: The show is all that matters, not this petty bullshit.”

  Kinley’s stomach pitched at the thought of going before thousands of people who might have read the article. When Deity and his band finished their encore and passed her on their way backstage, her legs turned to lead.

  Quinn took her hand and gently pulled her forward. “This doesn’t change anything. We still have a show to do.”

  They filed onto the darkened stage and Kinley concentrated on strapping her guitar over her shoulder and going over the set list in her mind. The lights came on before she was ready, blinding her with the piercing brightness. She blinked at the crowd. Their roar echoed in her ears. She saw angry faces, glaring at her with abject hatred. Some held signs saying, Bring back Curt.

  Quinn took the mike and greeted the crowd. Blood pounded in Kinley’s ears as someone in the audience pointed at her and shrieked, “Yoko!”

  Tony began the drum sequence to the first song. Her fingers went numb, unable to find the strings to do her part. Brand stepped over to her side and began strumming his bass. He eyed her intently, conveying a silent message. The crowd didn’t matter. The article didn’t matter. The arguments within the band didn’t matter. Only the music was important.

  Her fingers regained their grip on the fret and she struck the opening chord…two seconds too late. Brand nodded anyway, head banging next to her as she began the shredding riffs.

  The crowd cheered, the joy of hearing a favorite song eclipsing who was playing it. Quinn gave her an encouraging smile before his rich voice poured out the powerful lyrics. Kinley closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the music.

  Still, tension rode her spine every time someone booed, nearly making her mess up again. She breathed a prayer of thanks when the set was finished.

  The minute they arrived backstage, Quinn was swarmed by adoring fans. A few glared at Kinley and exchanged hostile murmurs. She forced a smile and stepped back to hang out with Tony.

  The drummer lifted his gaze from the poster he was autographing and grinned. “You played well tonight. I still can’t believe you nailed the solo for “Contrition.” That one’s complicated.”

  Brand joined them. “I’m sorry I blew up earlier. I was just caught off guard and felt stupid for not knowing what was going on. You really can shred—Curt was right to ask you to stand in for him.”

  “Thanks.” The apology meant the world to her. Unbidden, her gaze strayed back to Quinn. A giggling bleached blonde stroked his bicep and whispered something in his ear. Kinley’s fists
clenched.

  The bassist raised a brow. “You know, if you went and sat on his lap, that’d shut ’em down.” He frowned and scratched his chin. “Or it would backfire and we’d have a cat fight. That could be entertaining.”

  “Yeah right.” She made a derisive snort despite the fact that she wanted to do just that.

  Two guys approached her with shy smiles and complimented her playing. Her heart warmed at this evidence that not everyone hated her. One of them appeared to be about sixteen, his blush so bright his ears were red. When the older one flirted with her, Kinley noticed Quinn glaring at them. Pointedly, she frowned at his groupies.

  His eyes hardened. The blonde attempted to climb onto his lap. Quinn blocked her by grabbing his acoustic guitar. An incredible, heartrending melody poured from the strings. His rich voice permeated the room, singing a ballad that was softer than the typical Viciöus song.

  As he sang, he stared at Kinley intently, making it apparent to all that he was singing to her. Goosebumps rose all over her while her belly fluttered at the passion of his voice, the heat in his gaze.

  The message was clear. Now that their relationship had been made public, he was through with making a pretense at secrecy. Jubilation and fear warred within at his dare. If I walk away, I’ll be publicly rejecting him. If I go to him, my heart and reputation will be on the line.

  Her heart made the decision. Throat tight, Kinley’s legs slowly carried her toward him.

  The groupies followed Quinn’s gaze to Kinley. The blonde scowled but her friends stepped back and placed their hands over their hearts, cooing at the sweet gesture.

  The boys who were flirting with her backed away like puppies with their tails between their legs. By the time Quinn finished the song, she stood inches from him. Her fingers itched to caress his face.

  Not dropping his gaze, Quinn set the guitar down and pulled her into his arms. She nearly melted when his lips met hers in a soul-searing kiss. The rest of the world faded from her awareness. A low moan built in her throat as she tangled her fingers in his hair.