Rock Me Two Times (14 page)

“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 realized 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.

Neither were the pants she’d spent the night making.

Horror flashed through her, raising her hackles. She forced herself to take a breath and take a second look.

Nope. No pants hanging on the rolling rack where she’d put them.

Instead, there was a scattering of women’s clothing, empty beer bottles, and torn-up pieces of leather. The pants Ramsey had been wearing were on the floor, torn beyond repair.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Ramsey’s voice sounded off in the hallway. Kate turned and caught sight of the rocker by the elevators. He was French-kissing a blond woman who was in the elevator. The doors started to close, and he pulled his head back. Kate gained just a glimpse of the girl as she waved good-bye, but it was long enough to see that she was wearing the pants she’d made for Syon.

“Stop!”

Ramsey flipped around, but the doors shut.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Kate dove toward the control panel, slapping the button, but the car was gone.

“You got a hard-on for my date?” Ramsey asked.

“No, I want the pants I spent last night making back,” Kate snarled at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing letting her take my work?”

Ramsey flattened a hand over her mouth. “My head is splitting.”

Her eyes bulged, and she started to lift her knee. Ramsey jumped back, allowing her to see how many people had come out to watch.

Well, she wasn’t backing down. “You and your date tore through all of my work.”

“Easy now…”

Cid hooked her and crowded her through the doorway of some suite.

“See…here’s the thing,” the road manager said.

Kate shoved away from the guy, but he pushed her farther into the room.

The road manager pointed at her. “Image is key.” He stressed each word like she was some high school student sitting in the principal’s office.

“No kidding. That’s what I’m pissed off about. I spent all night making those pants,” she snapped.

“That’s why you weren’t at the show?” Syon’s voice was like a live current, stroking her senses.

Awakening her.

She looked past Cid, losing interest in the road manager. Syon had walked into the room, Ramsey and Taz on his heels. His hair was tousled, and his shirt hung open.

And he made her mouth water.

“You’re out of pants,” she answered. “Of course I was working. I needed that draping to start…”

A horrible thought occurred to her.

“Ramsey better not have screwed with my patterns.”

Cid waved her off. “Make some more. The publicity will be worth it.”

“And what kind of publicity will you get when your performers go on stage in their jock straps?” she demanded.

Cid’s expression tightened. “That’s your problem, and I’ll pack your ass out of here if you let it happen.”

He started to poke her in the chest with his finger. He went stumbling as Syon pushed him out of the way. “Keep your hands off her, Cid.”

“Then tell her to mind her mouth.”

“What the hell?” Kate demanded. “You’ve got security set up around the room where the instruments are, but not around my studio?”

Cid looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Your work doesn’t rate on that scale.”

“I don’t what?” She propped her hands on her hips. “You can find yourselves another leather artist if that’s where I rate.”

“Like hell,” Syon cut her off. He hooked her around her waist and pulled her away from Cid.

“Get the fuck out. Everyone.”

“I am not staying in here with you.”

She wasn’t sure why she was pissed, just that it hurt to see him. Uncertainty was eating her alive.

Ramsey made sure everyone else went out the door and closed it without a backward glance. It left her alone with Syon. Which hurt.

And that pissed her off.

She tossed her hair back and faced off with him. But that allowed her to lock gazes with him, and the moment she did, it felt like a spear went through her. He was so close. So within reach. She suddenly questioned why she was mad or if it was worth it.

That hurt her pride. She was folding, crumpling under the weight of her attraction for him.

“I worked all night on those pants.”

For him.

Syon had crossed his arms over his chest and stood watching her from behind a guarded expression.

“Cid’s attitude is…counterproductive,” she added.

She was struggling to dredge up professional language. Really struggling because all she wanted to do was cuss.

“He’s an asshole. It’s his job,” Syon said offhandedly, obviously not interested in the topic. His gaze cut into hers, something else on his mind.

She blinked at him, surprised by how easily he’d agreed with her. “Well doesn’t his job include not letting your wardrobe walk away on Ramsey’s party partners? I put my heart into my work.”

His expression cracked at last, his lips twitching into a genuine grin.

It confused her and frustrated her. She tossed her hands into the air. “Why are you grinning?”

He moved toward her, opening his arms. She recognized the intent in his eyes and instantly recoiled.

Ha! You mean you’re retreating.

Yeah, whatever worked. If he touched her, she’d lose track of the conversation. Her pride wasn’t willing to bend.

“We’re not done talking, Syon.”

He captured her, gathering her against his chest so her face was buried in the open front of his shirt. One breath, and she was struggling against a rush of pheromones.

“I heard what I needed,” he muttered against her hair.

She flattened her hands against his chest and failed to push, because she was too delighted to be in contact with his flesh again.

Had it been less than twenty-four hours?

It sure felt longer.

“I missed you.”

She froze.

“At the show. Thought you didn’t think it was important.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her head back so their gazes met. “It was sold out, and I missed you.”