Heart of Rock (6 page)

"Don't you
ever
do that to me again, back me against a wall and make lewd comments. You treat me with respect, or I will have these nailed to a wall. I don't take any abuse off any man, verbal or otherwise—got it?"

"Aye," he croaked an octave higher than he usually spoke.

She let him go and walked away with a slight smile on her face. She could have brought him to his knees very easily; however, she'd held back. The rumors were true. Carly heard the talk of Byrne's prowess. All right, damn him. She heard he could strap his cock to his leg. Her anger quickly dissipated. She wished to hell she was a manager to Carole King or someone less trouble. The last week had certainly not been dull. She was annoyed but also intrigued.

* * * *

Brogan ached. Not only where she had grabbed him but in his raging, off-the-charts arousal. This woman interested him like no other in a long time, not even Abbie. His hand moved down over the front of his jeans. He was going to be sore there in more ways than one. To him, women and sex were a game. Her frank talk irritated him, but he was more fascinated than anything else. He wanted to see her reaction to his arrogant self. Carly stood up to him, and he admired her. Hell, he liked it. Her balls were bigger than his.
Far out.

Chapter Five

Before the show in Newark and the concert dates in Canada, Brogan and the tour took a brief break. Cascade Records rented a small house in a secluded area of Cape Cod. The crew was at a nearby hotel while Brogan, Carly, and Gio relaxed at the seaside home. Brogan was sober for a week. All the damned drugs he was on certainly took the edge off, but the demon was still in there snarling silently.

Brogan walked on the small stretch of beach at dusk. He glanced at the house. Carly was inside discussing the upcoming concerts with Gio, working out security and other details that bored the shite out of him. They hadn't talked much since the turkey dinner. As one side-effect of their interaction, he had been in a constant state of arousal ever since she crushed his bollocks. Actually, he derived some amusement from watching her try to keep their dealings removed and professional. Aye, she couldn't hide the flush of her cheeks or the direction of her gaze. Carly constantly scanned his body with her intense stare, usually stopping the longest on his crotch. He made no effort to hide his interest. She no doubt had been aware of his stiff cock when she held his balls between her fingers.

Would he act on the obvious sizzle that simmered between them? He kicked at the sand with his boot. He had heard of Carly Montgomery along the Cascade Record grapevine but had never met her before now. Brogan didn't bother much with the office and the minions who worked under Nigel. He winced. Aye, he was arrogant. However, even though he'd heard she didn't sleep around, there was gossip of a short-term fling with a roadie two years ago.

Brogan stopped walking and gazed up at the star laden sky. It was a beautiful late summer night. A cool, bracing sea breeze skimmed in off the ocean. The hint of impending autumn teased the air. The half moon was bright, casting a soft illumination over the beach. The moon's cascading light also revealed a dinghy coming ashore. Inside the small boat were two scantily clad women. He had to admire their ingenuity. How did they even know where he was?

The two women giggled and hurried to him, gushing adoringly about his music, his voice, and his body. When they began to undress him and cover him with admiring kisses, he didn't protest. Nor did he complain when they brought bottles of beer ashore. No harm in a little foreplay or maybe a drink or two. He didn't have to have sex with them. Just some fun. He told the dark-haired chick she could wank him off but no oral or otherwise. Being worshipped and venerated by women had always appealed to him. Besides, he already had a hard-on before they appeared, and there was no sense putting a perfectly good erection to waste. The women giggled again and began to undress. He stretched out flat in the cool sand. The two women began to crawl all over him. The dark-haired one began to fondle his cock. She teased his swollen head briefly with her tongue and then picked up the pace of her hand strokes until he moaned for release. The dyed blonde was all but inhaling his mouth and tongue. He reached and cupped her breasts, and his thumbs rubbed her nipples into hardness. The chick leaned over him, dangling her tits enticingly. They looked as rich and succulent as low-hanging fruit. His mouth closed over one, and he sucked eagerly. Oh, yeah.
More.

* * * *

Carly flipped through the stack of contracts and paper-clipped the relevant ones together. This was taking longer than she'd expected. Byrne's previous manager, Byron, left things in a bit of a mess toward the end. Gio stood, stretched, and walked to the large picture window overlooking the beach. "Is that a boat?"

Carly scrambled out of her seat and rushed to the window. She cupped her hand and peered out through the glass. Damn it, it was a boat, and Byrne was nowhere in sight.

"I'll check it out. I need a little fresh air anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll yell if I need you. Have a drink and relax for a bit." She touched Gio briefly on his arm, and then moved toward the sliding doors. Gio, for all his brawn, had plenty of brains to spare. They had been working together for two years, and she considered him a good friend and not just her assistant. He was darkly handsome, and his Italian heritage was evident in the dusky olive tone of his skin and his dark, seductive eyes. She had never had any longings toward Gio. To her, he was the older brother she always wished she had. He was kind, funny, and protective.

She stepped out on the large deck and closed the door. Carly inhaled the brisk sea air. She wished they could stay here a month and not just a few days. She headed down the steps leading to the beach area. The gentle waves lapped on the sand, but above the melodic sound of the ocean, Carly could hear female giggles.

Carly couldn't believe this. She glanced at the small boat bobbing up and down in the water by the shoreline. Did these bimbos have radar? How in hell did they know where to find him? She never dreamed she would have to put a guard on the beach, for Christ's sake!

She walked toward the giggles. Tucked away in a secluded area by the sand dunes were Byrne and two nearly naked women. She glanced down at Byrne stretched out on the beach like he was a picnic lunch with those bitch ants crawling all over him. She was about to say something sarcastic and snippy, but her throat closed over. It hit her then and there. She wanted to be one of those women. Hell, she wanted to be the
only
woman to crawl all over him like a cheap rug. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Feelings of hurt and disappointment roared though her, but why? For close to two weeks she had been fighting her attraction to Byrne and denying her emotions. The raw jealousy roaring through her body couldn't be denied.
She did something against her very core. She turned and ran. Carly's stomach churned about this whole scenario and her surprising reaction to what she witnessed.

She heard one of the women say, "Did you invite another woman to join us?"

She glanced back to see Byrne scramble to his feet. Lord God, he was naked and fully aroused. Wow, he
could
strap his dick to his leg. He told the women to leave in not very friendly terms. They gathered their clothes, grumbled, and got back in the boat and headed farther down the shore. She looked away and kept running.

"Carly!"

Escaping the scene was difficult. Her high-heeled boots were sinking in the sand and slowing her progress. She could hear him chasing after her. Byrne caught her and brought them both down to their knees in the wet sand as the tide swirled about them. Carly struggled at first and then, without thinking, she lifted her hand to touch the back of his head. He was behind her, and she was wedged in between his muscular thighs and his huge erection. Byrne's hand cupped her breast, and his cock grew harder and larger at her back. He nuzzled her neck, and his tongue swirled her ear lobe.

"Carly," he whispered."I didn't drink anything,"

Like that would make everything all right. She didn't smell any booze on his breath, just hot, spicy, aroused male. He kissed her neck again, turned her head slightly, and then nibbled along her chin. Oh, God, she was turned on. His naked skin had a life force of its own. The heat he radiated. The sizzle of desire made her dizzy like she'd had those drinks herself. Byrne moved his hips in the sand and rocked her back against him. All she had to do was lift her short skirt… What the hell was she thinking?

* * * *

Brogan was naked, hard as stone, and he didn't care. He moved in front of her. He was still on his knees, as was she. His hand gently caressed Carly's face and her glorious hair.

"Beautiful—" He meant what he said, really meant it. Not the fake verbiage he had been spouting for ages to nameless women. He loved her freckles. Didn't even know she had freckles until the night he saw her with all the makeup off. He loved the way her full mouth curved in annoyance at him and the way her eyes flashed all manner of emotions even though she struggled to hide them. She was magnificent. He lowered his head.
Just a taste.

The kiss was terrifyingly tender, slow, and languid. He did not force himself on her, just savored. Carly Montgomery tasted as no other woman before in his life. This was a revelation. Not even Tarrah, Abbie… none of them.
Ever.
She opened her mouth tentatively, and he slowly licked every corner of her sensual lushness. A small moan escaped her lips.

Carly pushed him to the sand, her hand firm on his bare thigh. She glanced down at his erect cock and then up to his face. They both stared at each other for a long time, their gazes fused with untold passion and want. He let her take the aggressive role. Brogan waited. Her hand was like a branding iron on his skin. She started a slow circular motion on his hip. He groaned.
Take my cock in your hand, your mouth, your pussy, anywhere, I don't care.
He could see the desire smoldering in her gaze. Jaysus, he wanted her. Just as he leaned upward to kiss her, she pulled back.

* * * *

Carly stood shakily to her feet and turned away from Byrne. She wanted him like a kid wants her favorite toy on Christmas morning. She couldn't do this. She was seconds away from lifting her skirt and impaling herself on his huge cock. Sure, people had on-the-road flings… hell, she'd had one or two over the years. They meant nothing. When she gazed into those whiskey-and-grass-colored eyes of his, she knew it would mean everything. He was hopeless. No, he hadn't drunk anything, but he'd let those women have their way with him. He was a whore, and she couldn't figure out why.

She heard him say, "Carly?" in a voice so raw, so emotional she almost ran back to him. But she didn't, she kept walking.

* * * *

Newark, New Jersey

Nevan cooled his heels in Brogan's private suite. The concert was tomorrow night. He had called Carly, and she'd reserved him the room across the hall from Brogan. She wouldn't tell him much about his brother, which had him guessing a lot had happened. She said, "Ask your brother." The girlfriend dropped him, Reese had told him as much. What else had happened since Philadelphia, he wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

He crossed his arms and leaned back into the plush sofa. Brogan was a funny bloke, like he was one to talk. He certainly was the prettiest of all the brothers, which attracted the ladies. But Nevan had the feeling Brogan was broken inside and had been for a long time.

He wouldn't ask him any questions about whatever he carried inside him. Nevan had enough of his own secrets. Pity was the reason he'd decided to make the trip to Newark. Pity for Brogan, the rich rock star. Since Reese had washed his hands of him, and deservedly so, he couldn't abandon his older brother as well. He had to see for himself how Brogan was faring.

* * * *

Brogan walked into the suite. There was Nevan lounging on the couch. He had mixed feelings about having anyone from the family here. He was even more vulnerable, if it were possible. Growing up in Dublin, the Byrnes didn't have much. His father, Seamus, was a laborer, who barely kept the wolf from the door. In a family of seven children there wasn't much privacy either. The five boys were in one room and the two girls in another. Stacked like bleedin' cord wood. They had hand-me-down clothes, and it was a struggle to keep food on the table. With his first big royalty check, Brogan bought his parents a good-sized home on Marrowbone Lane. He gave all his siblings money. He brought Nevan and Reese over to the States and gave them high-paying jobs as his assistants. Times were tough in Ireland, so he was glad to help. Say what you will, he loved his family.

Brogan's thoughts drifted back to his parents. To this day they still loved each other deeply and made sure their home was alive in laughter and affection, then and now. So what was wrong with him or Nevan, for that matter? Neither of them had any lasting, meaningful relationship like their parents.

Nevan, who was eighteen months younger, never let anyone get close. He still didn't. Maybe Brogan should take a page from his book, but really who had he let close lately? Not even Abbie had understood him. He kept a part of himself removed from her and from everyone. The closest he'd come to opening his heart was when he kissed Carly on the beach. He thought about the devastating kiss constantly and thought about her. She acted as if the whole incident didn't happen. The women on the beach—what possessed him? He knew. The demon. He took a seat opposite Nevan.

"So, my brother, how's it been going? Able to keep sober?" Nevan asked pointedly.

"Barely. I'm on some prescriptions to help deal with it."

He wasn't telling anyone about the VD. He was shocked he'd told Carly. Abbie was ashamed, so she wouldn't tell. Frankly, he was a little ashamed himself. He certainly did not want to hear "I told you so, brother" from Nevan. Not today. Did anything rattle Nevan? Well, one thing he would tell him about was his brush with death. He wanted to talk to someone about it even though he had tried to put it out of his mind.