Читать книгу In For Keeps / Under His Touch - Taryn Belle, Cathryn Fox - Страница 15

BY THE TIME the night of the first show rolled around, Kiki was regretting the day she accepted her new job. The work was more demanding than she’d expected, but that wasn’t the reason. She’d assumed Dev would slip into a different persona when he was in celebrity mode—high-maintenance, egotistical, absent, no longer interested in her. She was wrong. Dev was exactly the same guy he’d been on Moretta: fun, relaxed, kind to his staff, a natural leader. It seemed like he was everywhere she was, and he always had that heart-stopping sexy smile for her. In the hotel elevator. At the catering table. At the rehearsal studio. And now backstage, where he’d winked at her as he passed her in the hallway. Every time his eyes met hers she felt like she’d been electrified—which made keeping her boundaries in place even more important. She couldn’t afford to weaken, especially now that she was on the road with him. Like it or not, Dev was a man she was willing to break her rules for, and Kiki knew exactly what would happen if she got involved with him—he’d leave her when he found out the truth about her, just like her ex-husband had.

So why hadn’t she made this arrangement strictly business when she had the chance? He’d put it out there—your terms—but she’d left it alone. Dev was a man of his word, and she had to admit that a part of her hadn’t wanted to shut that door completely.

She walked along the side of the hallway, trying to stay out of the human traffic jam. She knew Dev was in his dressing room. Her pulse quickened as she thought about the stage outfit she’d laid out for him an hour ago: a white button-down Armani shirt and black leather pants. The thought of seeing him onstage had her nerves on edge. But was it because she was about to witness the hottest performance on Earth, or because of what she was afraid might happen after it? Everyone knew that was when the groupies showed up. Dev might not flaunt them in her face, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that one night with her had changed his ways forever.

She reached the main artery of the backstage area, which was controlled chaos. Roadies shouted orders to each other, organizers zipped around with clipboards and iPads in hand, a bored-looking caterer tapped away on her phone behind a table laden with food. A heavyset man shouted loudly into his cell phone while he paced inches from Kiki’s toes. Scotty lounged on a nearby sofa, tossing Skittles into his mouth one by one while Stuart walked the floor in front of him, tapping a beat out on an invisible drum set. And above it all was the roar of the twenty thousand fans filing into London’s largest concert venue, O2 Arena.

Kiki was good at hiding her intimidation. Sinking down into a plastic chair, she took her phone out to tick the day’s tasks off: meals organized; media interviews booked for the following day; assorted shopping trips done; fan mail answered; backstage photos posted to Instagram and Twitter; a Snapchat story of the band warming up for the show made; water, towels and snacks set out for the band.

She was about to click her phone off when it rang in her hand. Laina Rose. Kiki grinned. Laina was her best friend from high school, and the whole reason she’d moved to Moretta in the first place. Her friend had grown up spending her vacations on the island with her super-wealthy family, so when Kiki called her in tears after Jack left her, Laina had come to her rescue by offering her the guesthouse on her parents’ estate. Kiki had thought she’d spend a few weeks there recovering, but instead she’d found herself getting a job at Pablo’s and renting a staff cottage. Laina had visited her several times over the years, always staying with Kiki instead of at her family estate. Laina was one of those rare people who chose to separate herself from her family’s wealth, but Kiki knew there was more to the story than that.

Standing up, she glanced around for a quiet place to talk. She hadn’t spoken with her friend since she’d announced her engagement, one that Kiki proudly took credit for because it was she who’d introduced the pair back in Atlanta. Wedding chatter wasn’t number one on Kiki’s list right now, but a little girl talk might get her mind off things...like Dev.

Kiki dashed into an empty bathroom and closed the door behind her, dulling the sound of the mayhem. “Banger!” she said when she picked up, using Laina’s old high school nickname.

“Mash,” Laina replied dully.

Kiki gripped the phone. “What’s wrong?”

A sniffle, and then she blurted, “He fucked another girl in our bed, Kiki.”

Kiki’s blood froze in her veins. “What?” she gasped.

“I caught them. And then he tried to blame it on me.” Laina let out a choked sob.

Kiki slapped her hand down on the sink. “Oh, my God. The fucking prick! I am so, so sorry, honey.”

“Me, too.”

“And I introduced—”

“Stop. It’s not your fault. It’s—it’s better this way. He said I was boring in bed, Kiki. It’s better that I found out what a cocksucker he is now.”

Kiki inhaled deeply to settle her boiling blood. What Jack had done to her had been scathing, but she couldn’t imagine the intensity of what Laina had just experienced.

“Tell me what I can do for you, Laina. I’m not on Moretta right now, but I’m here for you. Do you need anything?”

“You mean besides something to castrate Ward with? No, I’m good. Just—I need to get away. Are you up for a visit?”

“Of course! Except that I’m away for another five weeks,” she added guiltily. Laina had been a rock-solid friend to her when she desperately needed one, and it bothered her that she couldn’t reciprocate in the same way.

There was a pause on Laina’s end. “Five weeks? Where are you?”

Not now. Revealing where she was would lead to a conversation about Dev and/or her mother, and this wasn’t the time or place. “Long story. This is about you, honey. Can you come in late November?”

“I’ll have to check with my boss. She’s a bit of a bitch.”

At least her sense of humor was intact; Laina had started her own architecture firm two years ago. “That’s not what I’ve heard about her,” Kiki replied. Then she fell silent, wishing there was a sure way to convince her friend that everything would turn out fine. But she remembered what it was like to be in her shoes, and she knew that the only real cure was time.

And that as soon as she got over him, the next complication would enter her life.

“Ten minutes,” a male voice crackled in Kiki’s back pocket. Damn it—she’d forgotten about her walkie-talkie, and part of her job was to keep Dev on schedule. She killed the volume and turned her attention back to Laina.

“It’s going to be alright, okay? I promise. And you are not boring in bed.”

Laina managed a laugh. “How would you know?”

“Because Ward seems pretty damned boring himself, if you ask me. Someday you’ll meet a real man, and...” Dev’s face filled her head. That’s what he was, wasn’t he? One of only a few real men out there. Or maybe that was just what she wanted him to be.

“And what?”

“Nothing. You just focus on you right now, okay?”

“Okay,” Laina sniffed.

After she hung up, Kiki made her way to Dev’s door, preparing herself for the onslaught on her senses. And sure enough, her breath caught in her throat when he appeared. He looked every inch the rock god he was and more. His dark hair was mussed and his shirt was left open at the top, revealing a hint of his muscled chest. She could smell his aftershave, that ever-present reminder of the traces he’d left on her skin. Against her will, her eyes dropped to his leather pants. She felt a jolt shoot straight to her pussy at the sight of his generous bulge.

Stop it.

But her face was already flushed. Damn, but being a redhead was an unfair disadvantage.

Through the walls, the crowd had reached a fever pitch. “Twitch! Twitch!”

“It sounds like they’re ready for you,” Kiki managed. “What’s that all about?”

Dev leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “Just a nickname. Maybe because I like to play my guitar hard and fast.”

His aqua eyes caressed her body, telling her exactly how he’d rather be applying those two adverbs. She could feel the heat creep down from her cheeks to her breasts.

Cool it.

She tried for a casual stance, hands in front pockets. “So, uh...you good to go? I mean, do you have a routine you like to do before you go onstage or anything? I’ve heard some musicians like to do scales, tai chi, snort a few lines, whatever...” She cringed as she trailed off. Did she really just say that? She was nervous as hell, and she always babbled and said stupid shit when she was nervous.

And yet Dev, the person who should be nervous, seemed perfectly calm. “Never readier,” he replied with a wink—the same two words she’d spoken right before he drove his cock inside her for the first time. Jesus. He wasn’t making this easy.

In her peripheral vision, Kiki saw a crew member approach. “Hey, Chester,” Dev said when he stopped near them.

“Hey. Bob was wondering if you wanted us to scout for you tonight. He just took a walk and said to let you know there’s plenty of good material in the crowd.”

“Nah, I’ll pass. Just like I did on the last tour,” Dev replied pointedly, his eyes never leaving Kiki’s.

Kiki watched as Chester took his baseball cap off and replaced it on his head, turning the visor backward. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, as if waiting for Dev to come to his senses. “You sure, man?”

“Sure of what—that he’s the best goddamned musician since Springsteen?” a man said as he appeared beside Dev. Kiki felt herself stiffen. It was the heavyset guy with the cell phone she’d noticed earlier. He wore his long white hair slicked back, and his paunch strained at his shirt buttons.

“Bix, it’s about time,” Dev said, giving the man a back-pounding embrace. “Bix, I’d like you to meet Kiki Becker. Kiki, Bix is my tour manager.”

Kiki nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine,” Bix replied, but his eyes only lit on her briefly. She watched as Chester cleared his throat, trying to remind Dev of his presence. It was an interesting hierarchy dance, Kiki observed—Chester was clearly at the bottom, and a minute ago she would have put Dev at the top. But Bix’s entrance into the picture had made her less certain of that.

Dev turned to Chester. “Thanks, man—I’m all good.”

“Hey, you’re the boss.” Chester shrugged and turned away. Bix’s cell phone rang, and after he walked off, Kiki burst out laughing. “‘Plenty of good material’?” she said to Dev. “I take it that’s code for hot chicks.”

“I would never use such a disrespectful term,” Dev replied. “But yes. There is a certain tradition among certain musicians that involves inviting a certain type of female backstage. It’s not something that interests me.”

“No?”

“Anymore,” he clarified with a smile.

Kiki gave him a skeptical look. “So all those lovely ladies I see you around the island with are—what, your sisters?”

He grinned. “Just because I let them hang out with me doesn’t mean I let them into my bed. But point taken. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Kiki busied herself with adjusting her necklace. So she wasn’t going to be tortured by the sight of him with another woman...not tonight, at least. But how long would he hold out? The guy was only human, after all.

“Listen,” she said hesitantly. “I, um... I just want you to know you don’t have to do this. This is a professional relationship, and—”

“Is it?” His aqua eyes bored into hers.

“Um...” Yes. Just say it and everything will be so much simpler, she thought. “Well, I think it’s easiest if we just... I mean... I have no expectations,” she stammered.

That sexy smile. She wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor. “I appreciate that,” he said, stepping a little closer to her. The crowd had grown louder than ever with their frenzied chant, forcing Dev’s lips to her ear so he could be heard. “There’s just one problem.”

He was so close she could feel his breath on her face. Toothpaste and lemon. She wanted to brush against his mouth with her fingers, feel him suck them before she replaced them with her hungry lips. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. The only woman I want is you,” he whispered, sending shivers down her spine.

Kiki swallowed hard. She finally turned to face him, but he was already backing away from her with his arms over his head. He gave his hands three loud claps in the air. “Alright. Let’s fucking do this!” he shouted. A roadie handed him a guitar, and then Dev slipped the strap over his head, ran up the steps and disappeared through the stage door.

Blinding strobe lights. Sweat dripping from his face. Stuart pounding the drums, Scotty beside him on the mic. Lightning ripping from his fingertips on the guitar. The whole scene magnified behind him on a massive screen. And the feverish crowd, the lifeblood of every show, singing every word along with him. This was one of the moments Dev could acknowledge that the dreams of a ten-year-old boy with an air guitar and a bed for a stage had come true. If only they weren’t so few and far between.

The encore was the one time onstage Dev could actually enjoy himself. During that short golden window between having the worst behind him and the end in sight, he suddenly felt like he could play all night. By all accounts, his first performance of the Up All Night World Tour had gone well. Along with his little helpers, his usual coping mechanisms had worked. He’d launched into his first song, “It All Starts Here,” with his back to the audience, only turning around two choruses in when his hands finally stopped shaking. The wild cheers when the crowd saw his face assured him that his secret was safe; they thought it was all part of the act. After that he’d kept his eyes either on his guitar or on the front row of the crowd, and by the third song he was nearly relaxed enough to give the audience what they wanted: everything. All of him. His very flesh, heart and soul. And though his stomach still churned, he’d done it. Worked the stage, riffed with his bandmates, sung hard. He’d never gotten used to having his every move blown up a thousand times, but when he caught a glimpse of himself onscreen he looked okay. He looked perfectly in control. And now here he was on his last number of the night, “Stand Your Ground,” one of his midcareer chart-topping ballads that always got the audience singing along. As Dev drew out the last, endless note, twenty thousand cell phones glowed back at him. Only then did he allow his eyes to lift to the back of the stadium, where they settled on the reassuring sight of a fully packed house.

It was over. Relief pulsed through his body as he ran off the stage with his guitar. A waiting roadie took it from him and handed him a bottle of water. He took in the compliments.

“Great show, man.”

“You killed it.”

“They loved you.”

The voices and the roar of the crowd fell away as he looked into the darkness backstage.

Where is she?

Dev’s eyes finally adjusted, and he saw her near the back wall. She was turned away from him in conversation with a crew member, allowing him a perfect view of her beautiful ass. Predictably, his cock jerked in his pants. Dev took two steps toward her—and caught his foot on a cable, sprawling him across the wooden floor. “Goddamn it!”

His left elbow throbbed dully as two crew members ran over to help him up to his feet. His first reaction was embarrassment, but then the monster was right up in his face. That’s what Xanax does to you, Stone—makes you clumsy. Maybe you should have stuck with one.

But he’d needed two tonight, and anyway, that was only the paranoia speaking. Someone had forgotten to cap the cable, that was all. It could have happened to anyone.

“Are you okay?” It was Kiki, looking at him with concern.

“Just a little bump on my pride,” he replied, though his elbow hurt when he stretched it out.

“Let’s get you into your dressing room.” Placing a hand on his good arm, Kiki gave him a gentle push toward the door that led backstage.

The roadies trailed after her. “Should we call a medic?” one of them called.

“I’ll let you know,” Kiki responded, leading Dev through the door. They crossed the hallway and entered his dressing room. “Sit down. I’m going to roll up your sleeve and take a look.”

“Look, if you want to undress me, all you have to do is—”

“No jokes, okay? There might be some swelling happening here.”

“You’re telling me.”

Fuck. What was wrong with him? He was acting like a juvenile, and Kiki looked suitably annoyed. But, Jesus, how was she so resistant? “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dev said. “I’m always a little wingy after a show. I make dumb jokes, say the wrong things.”

“Why don’t you just stop your spewing so I can take a look?”

Dev held his arm up obediently. He watched as her pink-tipped nails pushed his sleeve up. She’d worn a similar shade of polish that night, when she’d wrapped her hands around his cock and stroked him until he was ready for round three. And then she’d taken him in her mouth and sucked him until his entire world had tilted on its side.

Dev saw Kiki’s eyes drop to his pants. There was no hiding it anymore—he was rock hard for her. She licked her lips and met his eyes.

“Dev, I—” Kiki dropped his arm and took a step back. It was the only thing she could do to avoid climbing into his lap and rubbing herself against his cock like a desperately horny I’ll-do-everything-but-that virgin. Her panties were wet. She’d never wanted anyone so badly, and it all had started the moment she’d seen him onstage. Ninety minutes of excruciating torture where she’d imagined every sweet thing she’d love to do to him after the show. Certain she wouldn’t be able to resist him if he so much as breathed on her again. Dangerous. Addictive. So fucking sexy. And such a bad idea.

Both of their sanities depended on her getting her head straight right now.

Dev pounded his good fist onto his thigh and flung himself out of his chair. “Jesus, Kiki! Fuck! This is messed up! You want me, I want you, we both know—”

“Don’t fucking tell me what I know!” she shouted. He looked at her sharply, and she took a breath. Her anger had taken her by surprise as much as it had him, and it wasn’t his fault. She was pent-up, frustrated, desperate to act on the feelings she knew they both had. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t worth sticking around for—she knew it as well as she knew her own name—and she wasn’t prepared to have her heart shattered again. “I get it, okay? No woman on earth has ever refused you.”

Dev raked a hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was low and furious. “That is not what this is about and you know it. Stop throwing that shit in my face, Kiki. How many times do I have to tell you it’s you that I want?”

She turned her face to the side. “This was a mistake. I never should have accepted the job.”

Dev bent down so his face was inches from hers. “Then define it, Kiki,” he said between gritted teeth. “Tell me you never want me to fuck you again right now, and I’ll be all business from this moment on.”

Kiki lifted her chin. “I’m not going to lie to you, okay? I’d love nothing more than to be with you. But you have to stay away from me, Dev. Believe me, it’s better for both of us.”

Dev didn’t move a muscle. She stared back at him, not daring to let her chilly expression melt.

The door flung open. Kiki glanced toward it and saw Bix striding toward them with an ice pack in his hand. “You okay, buddy? I heard you took a spill. Not going to affect your guitar playing, I hope?”

Dev returned his gaze to Kiki. “I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it,” Bix said, slapping the ice pack on Dev’s arm. “’Cause you got a hot lineup outside just dying for a piece of you.”

Kiki searched for her voice. Never mind Bix’s ill timing—her job was to look after Dev, and it was time for her to be professional. “Dev really isn’t in any shape to be meeting anyone right now.”

The smile dropped off Bix’s face. “He just said himself he’s fine. And here’s the thing—autographs make for happy fans, happy fans tell their friends, they all buy more records, and that—”

“Let them in,” Dev interrupted, his eyes still boring into Kiki’s. “Go ahead. I’m happy to meet them. And, Kiki, I’d like you to stay.”

Panic filled her chest. She’d shut him down once and for all, and now he was going to show her exactly what she was missing. As her feet stayed rooted in place, she realized she was holding her breath. This is going to be so bad.

Bix opened the door, and two burly men leading a barrage of skimpily dressed women streamed into the room. Kiki was sure they’d crush Dev completely if it weren’t for the handlers, who stood protectively in front of him and shouted for the fans to approach one at a time. The room was so small that Kiki had to practically push herself against a wall to avoid getting crushed. She tried to catch Dev’s eye as he signed autographs with his good hand and smiled for selfies, but it was as if he’d already forgotten about her. Oh, God, what have I done?

Finally, Dev stood up from his chair. A few of the pushier ladies crowded in even closer to him, cleavage and pouting lips on full display like a Discovery Channel mammalian mating ritual.

Kiki couldn’t stand it any longer. Looking for an opening in the throng, she started pressing her way toward the door. She was almost there when she heard Dev’s voice behind her.

“Thanks for coming in, ladies,” he said. “Kiki will show you out.”

She froze, meeting his eyes as the women reluctantly started filing out the door. Several of them threw her jealous glances as they left, and she couldn’t help it—she felt a surge of power. It was written all over Dev’s face—it was her he wanted. Kiki Becker, strawberry blonde, freckled, currently several pounds over her ideal weight—and he wanted her.

Even if she could never let him touch her again.

When the room was clear, Dev slowly walked toward her. Kiki watched him approach, pressing herself backward again. He stepped close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, and then there was nowhere for her to go. He placed his good hand on the wall right beside her shoulder, and then he reached up to brush a strand of hair off her face. He smiled sadly at her. Then he pushed himself off the wall and left the room.