Twisted

by Cari Quinn

  Jazz grinned. Harper had named her cat Whisk. So adorable. “I can’t believe you named an innocent kitten Killer.”

  “I can’t believe you gave me a kitten.”

  “Touché.” Jazz leaned against the bed and reflexively tightened her belt. She was keeping it together mostly—both her robe and her thoughts.

  Worrying wouldn’t do her any good. She’d set her plan into motion and now she had to see it through. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

  Today was a good day. No, an excellent day, because Gray was home. If the fates were kind, it would end up amazing.

  “Can we get this show on the road soon?” She tried and failed to temper her peevish tone. “I’m hungry.”

  “I thought you just said you were going to throw up.”

  “Hello, both thoughts can occupy my head at the same time.”

  “Did someone say they were hungry?”

  Jazz squealed at the sound of Harper’s voice and toddled off in the direction of her best friend. She probably looked up like a sexed-up penguin at the moment, but hey, penguins were pretty cute. “What did you bring me?” she demanded. “I hope it’s full of chocolate.”

  “Nope. You need something healthy.”

  “Aww, man, that’s no fair. You gave Gray chocolate.”

  “You can have some for dessert, young lady, not for the meal itself.”

  Jazz grinned. “It turns me on when you talk mom.”

  “Stop lying. You’re turned on all the time.” Harper giggled and opened a plastic container full of wrapped sandwiches. “Tuna salad for the boys, chicken salad for the big guy. And for you and me, a nice turkey with cranberry mayo.”

  Jazz poked in the box. “Do I see pickles?”

  “You sure do.” Harper nodded proudly. “I know my girl.”

  “Now I’m really hot for you. I may strip down in a second.”

  “Hell yeah, now this is what I’m talking about. All my women, getting naked for me.” Arms spread wide, Simon strutted into the room wearing just a pair of leather pants and a smile. “And sandwiches too? Banner fucking day.”

  When he stuck his hand into Harper’s box, she shut the lid on his fingers. “It’s not lunchtime. Keep your grimy paws to yourself.”

  “But they’re wrapped.”

  Jazz had to laugh at his hurt expression. He was so damn adorable. “I’ll sneak you a couple of my pickles, manslut,” she soothed, taking his arm.

  “I don’t like pickles.”

  “How do you feel about cranberry mayo?”

  “I don’t care,” Jazz said to Harper. “He has his own sandwich. He can’t have mine.”

  “Pernickety females.” He kissed the top of Jazz’s head. “Good thing I like that particular variety.”

  “Watch it, Kagan.” Lila strode up to them, iPad in hand. The softer side of her that seemed to emerge when she and Jazz were alone had disappeared entirely. “Speaking of females, I have news on that score.”

  Simon perked up. “Oh goody.”

  “In honor of the great progress that you’ve been making in the studio, I’ve invited someone to sit in with all of you next week. Between Gray’s return and her presence, I think it’ll really round out the sound of ‘Echoes’. We’d really like to recreate some of the magic from ‘The Becoming’ and ‘Echoes’ has a similar feel.”

  At Jazz’s side, Simon went rigid. “They’re completely different songs.”

  “I know that, but why argue with success? ‘The Becoming’ broke out Oblivion, and we’d love to take you to the next level with this album.”

  “Who’re you bringing in? That violin chick?” Jazz snapped her fingers. “Margaret, right?”

  “Margo,” Simon said quietly.

  “Margo, that’s right. She was so talented.”

  “I think we’re gelling just fine on our own.” Simon rubbed his hand over his bare chest. “Besides, I seriously doubt she wants to slum with us again. I got the feeling she wasn’t too into the experience last time.”

  “Funny, she seemed happy for the opportunity when we contacted her people. If all goes as we hope, we may even bring out for selected dates on the tour.” Lila shifted toward Jazz. “We’re also looking into a few different things to change up the dynamic of a few of the songs. Like taiko drumming.”

  “Really? I’d love to try that.”

  “Your enthusiasm is appreciated,” Lila said with a pointed glance at Simon.

  “Yeah, well, see how much her enthusiasm helps when she can’t stretch her arms over her stomach to play the kit.”

  “Jerk.” Jazz elbowed him and glanced over her shoulder at a noise in the doorway. Her belly rioted for a moment until she realized it was just Nick and his slinky brunette friend, Tori.

  So much for Nick being concerned about sharing Tori with Snake. Though why that surprised Jazz, she didn’t know. He was just a sharing kind of guy.

  Snake. Just thinking that name nearly made her shudder. He hadn’t resurfaced since the cabin incident, but she knew it was a matter of time. Lila had warned her as much. Now that Gray was returning from rehab, once Snake saw he wasn’t being kicked out of the band—as Snake had been—that would probably lure him out of his hidey-hole.

  But they were prepared. The media blitz around the video should be enough to distract the public from anything Snake had to say. Their fans knew Gray was in treatment, and everyone seemed to be supportive. If this video turned out as hot as they hoped, everyone would see Gray was back at full strength and anything Snake said would get lost in the noise.

  Of course, that all depended on Gray coming out of his dressing room someday soon.

  “What the hell.” Lila aimed a death ray at Nick and charged across the room. “This is a closed set,” she snapped. “No groupies.”

  “Groupies? I don’t see any groupies.” He glanced around, eyebrows lifted. The perfect lying picture of innocence. “Tori here is my special friend. Totally different.”

  Tori nodded eagerly. Lila did not appear impressed.

  When Simon wandered off muttering about needing a drink, Harper leaned in close to Jazz. “How’re you holding up?”

  “Not awesomely.” Jazz lifted the bottom of her robe. “These garters are cutting off my thigh circulation.”

  “Look sexy as hell though.”

  “So will the permanent band tattoos on my legs.”

  “Speaking of band tattoos, I’m thinking of getting the Oblivion O right here.” Harper pulled down the collar of her shirt to reveal the top of her breast. “Maybe add a whisk.”

  “Sounds good. I still need to get mine too.” Still holding her robe up, Jazz peered between her legs. “I’m thinking inner thigh.” Gray liked that area on her. “What do you think?”

  Harper didn’t answer.

  “Harp?”

  “Not Harp.” Gray’s husky voice rumbled over her skin. “By the way, that’s some pose. Don’t feel like you need to change it on my account.”

  She whirled around and grinned widely enough that her cheeks hurt. “Where did you come from?”

  “Today, rehab. Originally, my mother’s wo—” The rest of his statement disappeared under her lips as she attacked him right there in the middle of Lila’s set. He laughed and grabbed her hips, pulling her even closer while he stroked his tongue over hers and reminded her all over again just what that mouth was capable of.

  Her panties soon bore the proof.

  “Mmm, missed you.”

  Grinning, he dipped his forehead to hers. “I’d say me too but I think you can feel that without me saying a word.” He tugged lightly on the belt of her robe. “This is some outfit.”

  “You haven’t even seen the best part yet.”

  She waited for his eyes to darken with jealousy that everyone else would soon be seeing too but he only pressed his lips to hers again. “Yeah, I have. Nothing is better than your face.”

  God. This man.

  “How are you?” she whispered between kisses. “You look goo
d. No, you look great. You gained weight. Your color’s back.” Not caring who was watching, she reached around behind him and grabbed his ass. “Oh yeah. Everything’s exactly right.”

  He laughed against her mouth. “You’re trying to screw up the big plans I have for us, aren’t you?”

  “Big plans for screwing?” She arched against him and buried her hands in his thick hair. He’d grown it even longer and hot damn, her nipples solidly approved. “I’m down. Or up. Pretty much any position you want me in.”

  “Uh uh. No screwing. That’s my big plan. I want us to go slow.” He edged back and drew his fingertip over her parted wet lips and down her throat to her guitar pick necklace. “This time, we’re going to do it right. No rushing ahead. I want to do the old-fashioned thing and, you know, court you.”

  Uh oh.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure that’s possible, all things considered.”

  “Sure it is. We’ll reset the clock and do everything all over again. Start from the beginning.”

  “Two minutes until I’m closing this set,” Lila shouted as the crew hustled around, doing final adjustments. She wasn’t the video director but she’d taken over as usual. “Necessary personnel only.”

  Jazz bit her lip. Oh shit. Damn, damn, damn. This was not going well at all. So much for her big surprise. He was liable to dump her again after she dropped this present on his doorstep. Not the present itself—that was wonderful—but her timing left something to be desired. Best of all? She’d actually planned this stupid set-up.

  Other women arranged an intimate dinner for two. Her? She invited a camera crew.

  “I have something I need to tell you. Like…now.”

  “We have all the time in the world.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Back to brunette. I love it.”

  “It’s vegetable dye. I can’t use the real stuff right now.”

  “What, is there a shortage or something?” He grinned. “Doesn’t surprise me. You change your hair practically daily.”

  “Places everyone. Simon, don’t touch that. Jazz and Gray, get on the bed.”

  He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him. “Be gentle with me, okay? I’ve had a long eight weeks.”

  “You’re not the only one,” she mumbled, prepared to climb the three steps to the platform bed. But he turned and plucked her up, setting her down carefully on the mattress and lying beside her as if were the most natural thing in the world.

  She stared up at him, dizzy for a whole different reason than her usual one lately. “Gray,” she whispered urgently.

  “Hmm, baby?”

  “Jazz, move your leg. That angle is not flattering. Gray, put your hand higher. Pretend you actually like her.”

  “Was this really your idea?” he muttered in Jazz’s ear, doing as requested. His hand slid up her thigh and she bit her lip to keep from moaning, though she wasn’t sure if it was from desire or distress. Probably both.

  “I’m not sure I properly conceptualized it.”

  “You think?” He turned his face into her hair. “Sweet hell, you smell like a fucking wet dream.”

  “That’s good.” The bearded cameraman loomed over them, his breath reeking of the meatball sub she’d seen him eating a few minutes ago. Jazz’s stomach roiled. “Roll half on top of her. Think the hottest makeout session of your life. When we come into the bridge, Simon’s going to take center stage for a moment and that’s when we want you to slide down her body. I think we all know what we want you to simulate.”

  Gray lifted his head. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Don’t worry, with camera angles, it will all still be classy,” Lila said from a few feet away.

  “Oh yeah. This shoot is fucking exploding with class,” Nick said. “Too bad I forgot my pearls.”

  “Bet we could arrange a pearl necklace pretty easily,” Simon said.

  Gray choked with laughter and gripped his side. “Ow, fuck, that still hurts.”

  Jazz eased up on an elbow and touched Gray’s jaw. “Want me to get on top?”

  “I do.”

  “Shut up,” Jazz and Gray said to Simon.

  “No, stay where you are,” Lila commanded. “If everyone cooperates, this will be done by lunch.”

  “You mean I’ll be done for,” Gray breathed in her ear, making her laugh. He traced small circles with his thumb on her upper thigh, rekindling her lust and easing her nerves at the same time.

  The set crew continued to yell instructions to each other and to the members of the band. Nick, Simon and Deak were supposed to rock out on their instruments in the corner like a bunch of voyeurs while she and Gray rocked out on the bed. At the end, a sugar-like powder would be dumped on them from above. Whether that would turn out sexy or dopey as hell was anyone’s guess.

  At the moment, she had bigger problems.

  When the recorded track to “Sugar Kiss” started and Gray nuzzled the side of her neck, panic really set in. She’d bungled this so badly, and keeping this secret from him any longer felt like a huge mistake. She’d wanted to do something sexy and unique that they would never forget. Hell, their most important moment would even be memorialized for all time on video. But her sexy was in short supply and after his pre-shoot declaration about wanting to go slow, she couldn’t hold back one second more.

  “Gray.” She guided his face up to hers, well aware the cameras were still rolling. Not really caring. She rubbed her mouth over his and slid her hand along his jaw so it blocked the movement of her lips. She hoped. “I’m pregnant.”

  For a moment, nothing happened. Had she overdone the whole hand blocking thing? The recorded music was freaking loud, and the guys were playing for real in the corner because Nick had insisted he couldn’t simulate.

  She wet her parched lips and inched closer to Gray’s ear, about to try some seductive lobe action while yet again imparting her news, when his head reared up and collided with hers. Hard. Stars swam in her vision and she reached up to grab her throbbing face.

  It was wet. That probably wasn’t good.

  “Cut!” The cameraman shouted as a slew of curses erupted around them.

  “Oh Christ, get ice. We’ve got a bleeder,” someone called.

  Gray, however, didn’t appear to notice her fluid loss. “What? What did you say?” She cupped her nose and tried to speak but evidently he’d decided to pry the words out of her by force if necessary. He dragged her hand away from her nose and pressed his there instead, holding it away from her mouth. His eyes were wilder than she’d ever seen them. “Say it again.”

  “I’m pregnant.” Something about saying the words to him made her eyes fill. “We’re going to have a baby.”

  He stared at her, a huge range of emotions playing across his face. So many she couldn’t track them all. His lips moved but no sound emerged.

  “Say something,” she pleaded.

  He dropped his hand as a crew member pushed a plastic bag toward her nose. “Ice’s here,” he said hollowly.

  Normally she would’ve thrown some snark back at him. But she couldn’t, because a boulder the size of Rhode Island had taken up residence on her chest.

  “Let’s see your face,” Lila said, crawling on the bed on her opposite side. “If there’s bruising, we’re fucked.”

  “It won’t show up yet,” the cameraman said. “If we finish the shoot now, we can make it work.”

  “I’m still bleeding,” Jazz said in a small voice, but no one seemed to care.

  “Let me see.” Lila nudged aside the ice and probed her face gently with her fingers. “She looks fine. Time to boogie.”

  “Still bleeding,” Jazz said again, waving her ice bag.

  She was resoundingly ignored.

  For his part, Gray had slumped on his side and was staring vacantly into space. That didn’t bode well.

  “Everyone, places. From the top. Gray?”

  He moved like a robot, assuming his position half on top of her with about as much enthusias
m as a child on the way to the dentist. He slid his hand up her thigh, shifting it up so it rested on both of his legs. She soon realized his erection hadn’t abated. Nor had his stricken expression.

  At the cameraman’s cue, he went back to kissing her neck, his fingers still doing that stroking thing on her thigh that had worked well to start her engine before. It had the same effect the second time around and she arched again, getting into it in spite of herself, when he suddenly lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “You’re pregnant,” he said without lowering his voice. At all. “We’re really having a baby?”

  “Yeah.” She swallowed. “We are.”

  “For fuck’s sake, cut,” the cameraman yelled. “How am I supposed to shoot a video under these conditions?”

  “Give them five. You get five,” Lila said, appearing in Jazz’s line of vision just long enough for her to nod. Lila moved back, clapping her hands. “Clear the set, people. Time for a short break.”

  “Oh thank God. I’m so tired from playing six notes.” Nick’s sarcastic reply carried across the room just before the slam of a door signaled the group’s exit.

  Jazz chanced a look at Gray, who’d finally regained some of his color after her bombshell. “You okay?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Yeah. Are you? How did this happen?” His gaze traveled down to her partially undone robe—they hadn’t gotten to the big reveal yet—and back up to her face. “The tests were negative.”

  “We took them too soon. Within a few weeks, I didn’t need them to tell me anyway. It became obvious pretty fast.”

  “The band knows?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry I told them first, but I kind of had to. I was throwing up constantly while we were in the studio and Nick started making jokes about me having an eating disorder.”

  “So that’s why the guys were acting so weird in the dressing room. Deak said we had to stick together, him and me. I thought he just meant because Simon and Nick are nuts.” Gray’s throat bobbed. “Lila didn’t freak out over what it means for the band?”

  “A little. She chided me for not coordinating the birth with the upcoming tour. I don’t think she understands the meaning of the word unplanned.” She rolled her eyes. “But as soon as she figured out her spin angle, she was fine. She decided she would put out a big press release when I start to show about our ‘love child.’”