Текст книги "Rock Me Two Times"

Автор книги: Dawn Ryder

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“I think she bites…” Ramsey cooed, his fingers moving across the strings.

“She’s mine.”

“Says who?” Ramsey demanded.

Syon took the lead, feeling the music pulsing through his veins. It was a crazy combination of rhythm and stimulus, pushing him into revealing just exactly what sort of animal he was to the screaming fans waiting to glimpse it. Kate’s presence was more potent, more intense than any he’d felt in a long time. It was the unknown factor that was driving him to a fevered pitch—that hint of challenge she presented, and something else that he had no fucking idea what it was, beyond the fact that it made him feel mean.

And made him more determined to get between her thighs than was probably healthy.

Anticipation…

“She’s blushing…for me,” Syon declared.

“Yeah.” Ramsey leaned back, letting the music overwhelm him completely. Taz and Drake joined in, flooding the suite with music that shook the walls. “I still want to taste her.”

* * *

Kate listened to music and even found some of the songs shaking the suite familiar. But she’d never heard it quite the same before.

She could have sworn she could feel it on some level she couldn’t really explain. It was just there, inside her, like a second heart. Moving her along with the tempo as she worked with the machines that were so familiar to her hands. The two forces combined, her love of creation with the music. Sweat covered her skin by the time she stood up and pressed the new waistband she’d put on the pants. She shook them out and ran a critical eye over her work as the music died down.

She felt him coming this time, and looked up as he bore down on her. For a moment, she wasn’t sure he was going to take the pants from her hand. Determination blazed in his eyes—and a hunger that matched her own.

But he took them, crumpling the leather in his fist. His attention lowered to her mouth, and she rolled her lower lip in. His eyes narrowed before he ripped open the button fly of his jeans. She had just enough time to turn around before she saw him kick them across the floor.

“Chicken,” he whispered.

She heard him stepping into the leather and pulling it up. The sound of a lace sliding through the eyelets of the fly was something she recognized, but tonight, it was far more sensual than usual.

She looked over her shoulder before turning. He was looking at his reflection in the full-length mirrors the suite was furnished with, stretching up and arching his back while watching just how low the waistband dipped on his tight abdomen.

“Hopefully that will do the trick,” she offered. “There is only so much I can do with an existing garment. Leather doesn’t stretch, so I opened up the crouch and put in a gusset. It’s a pretty close color match. Someone would have to be right between your thighs to notice it.”

“Fans in the pit pick up on every detail.”

He was being serious. Dead, hard serious.

Kate stared at the glimpse of the businessman inside the rock star. Toxsin had come out of nowhere just three years ago and was now on the top of the charts. Rumors varied on the band’s origins, and she had the feeling that she was getting a glimpse at a very personal side of Syon Braden, the man under the Marquis. He caught her watching him, their gazes meeting in the polished surface of the mirror. For a moment, she felt a pull toward him so strong it threatened to overwhelm everything else.

Like common sense. Or professionalism.

Or the very blunt reality of knowing she was going to end up like a used condom if she didn’t get her sex drive under control.

“Stay for the show—there’s a private box up here with all the amenities,” Syon told her. “If your work fails, you’ll have a good view.”

“My work doesn’t fail,” she said. “And those aren’t my work. If they were, they’d fit.”

“You’re passionate,” he said softly.

“Perfectionist,” she corrected. “Leather is a…personal experience for me.”

He turned around and cupped her cheek before she realized he was in motion. The connection sent a shiver down her spine that traveled all the way to her toes. He leaned down, hovering over her ear. “Passionate,” he bit out, slipping his hand back to cup her nape with a grip that twisted her clit.

“I dare you to be here when I’m finished, Kate.”

“No problem.”

She was a sucker for a dare. Her head was spinning from the mix of pheromones and raw sexual allure bleeding off him, and the words were just out of her mouth before she engaged her brain.

At least the higher functioning parts of it. Animal instinct was working just fine.

He lowered his gaze, targeting her mouth before leaning forward and pressing a kiss against her neck. His grip on her nape was solid, his body hard as stone, but his lips closed over her skin with just enough aggression to throw more fuel on the flames licking her clit. He teased her, stroking and tasting her before licking his way to her collarbone with a delicious stroke that left her knees weak.

The lights in the suite began to flash. He pulled away, leaving her leaning on the wall.

There was a hint of violence in his expression. His eyes narrowed as he pulled away from her, reluctance flickering in his gaze.

She was gasping, so turned-on she was in a daze. She needed to run.

Because she was way out of her depth.

* * *

The Staples Center was roaring.

It sounded like a tsunami coming in, or a freight train passing three feet in front of her face. It was more than sound; there was a vibration that traveled through her body, all the way down to her bones. There was a current in the air that practically crackled with excitement.

The bodyguard-slash-security guy showed Kate up to a private box. She followed because she didn’t want to squeal like a little girl and ask to be taken home.

She’d never lost her head like this before.

It was embarrassing on an epic scale. She was pissed at herself for rolling over so easily for a man who wouldn’t recall her name by the end of the night.

The box had plush seats and an open rail overlooking the stage. The lights went down, and the drummer started up. The beat was infectious, taking over her heart until she was sure the muscle was keeping the same rhythm.

The crowd roared again, thrusting their hands up into the air as two guitars joined the drummer. Her nipples puckered again, her memory offering up an image of Syon arching back as he played those final chords. It was like he was pushing the music out of himself, almost as if he were giving birth.

Onstage, he was just as raw.

Syon took command of the space completely. The audience ate him up.

And were they screaming. Syon worked them just as skillfully as he did his guitar. He really was lord of all he surveyed. Kate discovered herself leaning forward, being drawn toward the spellbinding energy pulsing on the stage. Sitting still was impossible; her body wanted to move in time with the notes Syon was wringing out of his instrument. She became fixated on his hands; the way he worked his fingers was downright dominant.

Her teeth were clenched. By the time the last song finished, she was panting softly and felt wrung out.

But it was fucking wonderful. She was drifting on a high and collapsed back into her padded chair, her composure scattered around her like fall leaves. She felt spent but amped up at the same time.

Fangirls were definitely climbing the respect ladder in her book.

Okay, so she was drooling over a rock star like some high schooler, but at least B.O.B.—her battery-operated boyfriend—was waiting for her at home. All in all, the buzz was worth the slightly stinging blow to her pride, because in some corner of her mind, she believed she should be grown-up enough to realize fantasies weren’t mature. So disappointment wouldn’t stalk her in the wee hours of the night.

A hollow feeling in her gut warned her she was hoping in vain.

As Syon and the rest of the band left the stage, Kate indulged herself in a long moment of reflection. Syon had worked that guitar until it wailed. He had to be hell in bed if he applied even half that effort to pleasing his partner.

“So, what’d you think?”

She jumped, grabbing the armrests of the movie theater–style chair. Her eyes popped open wide, and her belly did a triple flip when she found Syon watching her.

“Ah…” Her tongue suddenly felt like a wad of cotton in her mouth as she scrambled to stand up and turn around to face him. “It was fantastic…”

He grinned at her, a huge, arrogantly pleased expression that showed off his perfect teeth.

God, she wondered if he knew how to bite…

There was a curtain in the doorway that she’d never closed. Syon reached over and tugged it off the hook that held it back. The velvet shimmered as it swung down to give them privacy, adding a dose of intimacy that was spine tingling.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

He shrugged, drawing her attention to the tightly corded muscles of his forearms. “I don’t want to get jumped.”

“Oh.” She took a quick look down at the fans still crowded into the seating below. Now that the house lights were on, she could see people sitting in the private boxes that lined the second and third stories of the arena. Syon was hanging back, staying behind the seats where there was still some shadow.

“Shouldn’t you be backstage somewhere…with those security guys?” Kate asked.

He bared his teeth at her. “Maybe in forty years. Their job is to protect the fans from me.”

“Yeah, I can see that side of your personality.” Hell, she could have sworn she could feel it.

“I earned it,” he answered with a confidence that was admirable.

He opened his arms. “Want to take a measurement? So you can make me a pair that fit…perfectly?”

“I get a hard-on when I play…”

“Oh…” Damn it. That was the third time she’d done nothing but answer in monosyllables.

She wasn’t sure it was healthy for her to be taking a good look at him, but her costumer’s eye switched on as she scanned his groin, tracing the bulge straining the leather.

Oh…yeah…serious package.

“It’s Giles’s account. I just stepped in because of the timing issue.” There. At last. A perfect, professional deflection.

Syon’s grin widened.

“Giles is in New York. You’re here. I can’t play ‘Insatiable Craving’ without this pair pinching.”

She had to swallow the lump forming in her throat. “Insatiable Craving” was one hot song.

And she looked back down to find the leather straining.

Kate’s breath froze for an instant as a bolt of excitement tore through her. “We’re not going there. I’m not measuring you.”

He looked down at her left hand and raised one of his perfectly groomed eyebrows. “Husband?”

“No,” she admitted. He was stripping away her defenses like a kid pulling the petals off a daisy.

His attention returned to her face. There was a flash of determination in his eyes that made her quiver.

“Boyfriend?” He stepped toward her. “Girlfriend?”

She shook her head, the feeling of being overly exposed trying to drown her. “Just not going there. I’m way past the age of impulsive behavior. Got a business to run.”

He bared his teeth again and moved in closer. “But it feels like it would be so much fun if you…came…”

She lifted her hands to ward him off and felt ridiculous, because what she really wanted to do was grab a handful of his chest hair. He smelled male, and some part of her was insanely turned-on by it. She was ready to claw him. His eyes were slightly dilated, like he was on the edge, and it excited her wildly.

Well, he was hard.

And she was wet.

“I have rules,” she sputtered. “You don’t look like the type who follows rules. So, good night. Nice to meet you and all. I doubt you’ll miss me. Giles is likely working up more wardrobe for you as we speak. You’re his premier account.”

She expected him to recoil from the mention of rules. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side. “Lay ’em on me.”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

He flashed a grin at her. “The rules. Let’s hear them.”

She was back to feeling like her personal space was being invaded. “I’m not interested in amusing you. I’m sure you won’t have to go far to find that sort of companionship though.”

“I won’t,” he confirmed, his tone deeper, serious. “And I’m standing here. You have discipline. So do I.”

Of course he did. Beneath the makeup and the lights, there had still been some serious music. No one got that good without self-control.

“Your rules, Kate.” She was pretty sure he wasn’t asking. There was a flicker in his eyes that looked a lot more like a demand.

Well, he’d asked for it. Part of her wanted to see what he did when she laid it down. Straight out. Her fingers were closed into fists with anticipation, her head spinning just a bit at the idea of someone like him being willing to please her.

“No married men, no rock stars or celebrities, no drugs, no kissing on the first date, and no men still living with their parents.”

She finished in a rush, feeling like she was trying to hold him off with a slingshot and a marshmallow instead of the well-thought-out rules she lived by. He was going to eat her ammo and lick his lips afterward.

“I rank below drugs?” he growled. “That’s harsh. I’ve been studying guitar since I was four.”

That was impressive. But she couldn’t say so, because then she’d be right back to thinking about getting her hands on him. He smelled hot and ultra-male.

“It’s just that I’ve done my share of movie costumes, and rock stars and celebrities, well, they don’t really”—she found herself searching for some way to put it that wouldn’t offend him—“do relationships.”

“I don’t do anything in half measures,” he assured her.

“You asked,” she said, trying to swallow her disappointment. Like there had been a chance in hell of them ever connecting beyond impulsive sex. “And now you know why I’m telling you to call Giles. It’s been great meeting you.”

“You haven’t given me a chance to meet your demands.” Syon chuckled softly, menacingly, and closed the last pace between them.

“You rejected them,” she said.

“Relationships require negotiation. I can’t change what I am, so number two needs to be struck from the list,” he said.

“Maybe I don’t negotiate.”

“Maybe you need incentive,” he offered in a raspy whisper.

They were toe to toe, the scent of his skin wrapping around her. He reached up and opened the clip she had holding her hair back. She heard it drop to the floor as he threaded his fingers through the strands, sending a torrent of sensation through her. It was bold and aggressive and presumptuous. She should have protested, but her eyes closed as waves of enjoyment rushed through her. All she wanted to do was arch and purr.

“You’re ginger.” He leaned over and buried his face in her hair. She heard him draw in a deep breath before exhaling next to her ear. “Spicy and sweet… I wanted to know what you tasted like the moment I saw you.”

“Really?”

He closed his hand in her hair, pulling it tight but stopping shy of hurting her. “Yeah…really.”

The hold sent her over the edge into some alternate dimension, where instinct ruled.

He hovered over her lips, almost touching them until she stretched toward him.

“Wait for it…” he growled softly, holding her back.

“Like hell.” She smoothed her hands back until she found the opening of his vest. He’d never closed more than a few buttons, just enough to cover his navel. She slid her hands inside, needing to touch his bare skin.

But she closed her fingers, trapping a handful of his chest hair.

He stiffened, surprised. His chest rumbled with something that sounded a lot like a growl.

“Ginger all the way through…” He smothered her retort beneath his lips, kissing her with a force that left her breathless. He commanded every motion, moving her head to suit his whim. But she wasn’t going to submit. She slid her hands up, over his collarbones until she found the corded muscles running along his neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair and grabbed him.

He pressed her mouth open, demanding complete surrender, but she still didn’t give it to him. She teased the tip of his tongue with hers and then licked along his lower lip as he shuddered and pressed up against her.

His cock was rock hard.

And huge.

She shivered with need so sharp, she was half-afraid she might climax just from being against him. The need to lift her thigh and rub against him was insane.

“I thought you’d be up here, trying to beat me to the punch.”

Kate jumped and would have fallen over the back of the chair if Syon hadn’t slid his arm around her waist to hold her.

Ramsey grinned at her without a shred of shame on his face and flicked the curtain closed behind him. Syon let Kate push free of his embrace and offered his bandmate a shrug. “I waited until after the show, didn’t I?”

“Barely,” Ramsey griped. “You skipped out on that reporter and dropped her in my path like a land mine.”

“Doesn’t look like she exploded on you.”

Ramsey leaned against the wall, pinning Kate between them. “She latched on.”

“But you’re still here,” Kate observed. She probably shouldn’t have spoken. It was a weird enough conversation and an even weirder situation. Things like “making sense” just didn’t belong at all.

Kind of like herself. She was so far out of her element, she wasn’t sure she knew how to make it back to reality.

Ramsey grinned, giving off a bad-boy vibe that had her teetering between the urge to smack him or bite. “I promised her an interview later.” His eyes narrowed seductively at Kate. “Unless we’re too busy.”

“Excuse me?” Kate looked back at Syon, but all he did was frown and shrug. Rule number two. “Seriously, I’m leaving.”

Kate made it two steps toward the curtain before Syon clamped his hand on her wrist and stopped her.

“Ramsey, get the fuck out. I told you, she’s mine.”

“Yeah…yeah…” Ramsey grumbled as he pushed off the wall and headed back for the curtain. Syon pulled her against him as his bandmate passed by.

But Ramsey paused next to her, giving her a look at his dark eyes. They paired with his black hair perfectly, completing his lone-wolf persona. “Maybe next time.”

Syon extended his hand past her with his middle finger raised right beneath Ramsey’s nose. With a snort, the other guitarist was gone, the curtain shimmering again as it settled back into place.

“Do you guys actually go in for threesomes?” Kate pulled away from Syon, stunned to hear her own question. Who asked stuff like that anyway?

Duh…rock stars.

“Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it, Ginger,” Syon said.

“Enough of the redhead references.”

“I’m talking about your nature.” He started after her, and she propped her hand onto her hip.

“Hold it right there.” She stuck her finger out at him.

“Here?” he asked innocently. “Or…” He moved forward, jabbing her finger into his chest and pushing her into the wall at the same time. “Here?”

“Just…back off,” she snapped. “I am not into group sex.”

He flattened his hands on the wall next to her head. There was a mere inch between them, and her heart started accelerating again.

“Ramsey is just pumped up from the show,” Syon offered in a low tone. “We have to put a lot of ourselves out there on the stage, and sex is the smartest way to blow off steam when we’re done.”

“What’s smart about random sexual encounters?” Kate asked.

“No hangovers, and no chance of overdosing.” He leaned down and inhaled the scent of her hair again. “Although, overdosing on your sweet body sounds like a great idea. I’m willing to take the risk.”

Oh hell…

She felt like her insides were vibrating. The level of excitement was so off the scale, she was tempted to give in just for the sake of not missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

But it would be giving in. Compromising. Something she didn’t go for.

“This is not my thing.”

“I can make it your thing.” His caramel eyes were full of a promise that made her shiver.

“Yeah right.” She ducked under his arm and swept the curtain aside. “I am not falling for that line.” But it just might come back to haunt her when she was playing with B.O.B. “I’m leaving now.” With what was left of her pride.

Which wasn’t much. Her hair was floating around her shoulders, and she had a nightmarish mental image of what she must look like—wet lips, smudged lipstick, and hungry eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone to deal with your…desire to overdose…”

There was a grunt behind her. Kate didn’t wait to see if it was an agreement or further argument. She took off down the hallway and headed for a door marked restricted access.

The moment she pushed through it, a dark-suited guy stepped into her path. He was a mountain of muscle and scowling.

“Call your goon off,” she snapped back at Syon, who had appeared right behind her.

“She’s with me,” Syon said right on cue.

Kate turned and pointed her finger at Syon as the door closed with a snap. “I’m not ‘with’ you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I liked our communication better before we broke off the lip-lock.”

“Yeah? Well—”

He leaned right down and smothered her retort. His mouth was just as hot as a few minutes ago, and he really did know how to use it. He teased her lips, sucking on them before biting her lower lip gently. He closed his arms around her and cupped both sides of her ass before pulling her into contact with his erection.

She gasped, the feeling making her insides twist. Her entire core yearned to toss her rules aside. She was aching for him.

Syon tightened his grip on her ass, setting fire to her senses. Her clit was throbbing painfully, and she just couldn’t take it anymore.

She reached for him, pulling the buttons on his vest open. There was a pop as a button went flying and bounced off the floor. The costumer in her would have cringed, but right now it pleased her on some base, primitive level. She wanted to eat him alive.

“Oh, God, yeah…run your claws down me.”

He arched back, offering the wide expanse of his bare chest to her. But it also allowed her to see the security guy still standing at his post near the door. He was doing a pristine job of looking straight ahead, but Kate’s jaw dropped in horror.

Syon straightened up, looking disappointed before turning his head to see what she was looking at. “Fuck. Forgot about him.”

“You mean, you usually don’t worry about anyone watching.” She tried to push him away, becoming frustrated when he stood still, defying her efforts. “Because you’re pumped up, right? Sex in the hallway is no big deal around here. I get it.”

And it pissed her off, but for an entirely different reason than she’d anticipated having to face. She didn’t want him to be so shallow.

But he was.

“I really…really…can’t…” She was sputtering, losing it completely as disappointment stung her eyes with unshed tears. “I’ve never behaved so…slutty…”

“Don’t insult yourself.” He opened his hands and wiped away one of the tears. “I’m being an asshole.”

Syon caught her hand and started to lead her through the maze of hallways. He took her up a flight of stairs and then another before she recognized the landing port. Someone opened the door for them, and she saw the pilot sitting in the helicopter, waiting for her.

The landing lights were on, spilling over them as the ocean breeze blew through her loose hair. He reached out and smoothed it back, cradling the side of her head.

“I’m going to kiss you good-bye, Kate.”

“Okay.”

She wasn’t sure what she was saying, only that she wanted one last taste of him.

Syon didn’t disappoint her. He leaned down and closed his lips over hers. It was a sweet meeting of their mouths this time. He pressed short little kisses against her lips before deepening the pressure and slipping and sliding his way across her mouth. He massaged her head, sending little ripples of delight through her.

But he lifted his head away too soon.

Or maybe not soon enough.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Kate.”

He watched her climb aboard and stood there with the wind of the rotor fluttering the open sides of his vest while they lifted off the rooftop. Below him, the area surrounding the Staples Center was teeming with fans still pumped with energy. The restaurants surrounding the auditorium were filled to the brim, customers spilling out onto the pavement as music blared and alcohol flowed.

Syon Braden stood above them, looking like he belonged right there. Up high. Unreachable.

Yeah, rule number two. She needed to follow it, or she was going to have a long, hard fall when the god of music finished with her.

* * *

Ramsey walked out onto the roof as the helicopter headed off into the night. “I didn’t mean to screw it up for you.”

“You didn’t.” Syon sighed. “I don’t hide who I am from chicks.”

“Weren’t you even tempted?”

“Maybe this time.” Syon shot his buddy a smirk. “She needs to know who I am, or there are going to be hurt feelings. I’m not a complete asshole.”

Ramsey crossed his arms over his chest, which was bare except for an open black leather jacket that exposed his nipple piercing. “Yes, you are.”

“Takes one to know one,” Syon shot back at his bandmate.

Ramsey curled his hand into a fist and smacked it into his opposite palm, but Syon shook his head. “Save your energy for the girls,” Syon said, heading back into the building.

“Got some cuties up in the penthouse suite over at the Ritz,” Ramsey said. “Plenty to go around. Big tits, little tits… I think Drake might have brought a drag queen back, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise when the skirt drops. I’m betting his cool, crisp Brit demeanor will finally fail.”

Ramsey yanked open the door to the first of the SUVs waiting to take them to their after party. Syon slid in beside Ramsey and pulled the door closed.

“Keep poking Drake with a stick, and he’s going to kick your ass one of these nights,” Syon predicted.

“Can’t help it,” Ramsey replied. “He’s like Data from Star Trek. No emotions. Only, I’ve seen him bleed, so I know he’s human…hence…”

“You won’t stop dicking with him,” Syon finished off.

Ramsey nodded.

The interior of the SUV was decked out in party lights and long bench seats terminating at a minibar. Their music was playing. There was a sea of flashing cameras as they passed the press, but security staff did a good job of keeping them on the sidewalk so the driver could thread his way down the ramp and into traffic.

“You could have had the bird drop us off before taking her home,” Ramsey complained.

“I think she might have jumped out if we’d climbed in after her.”

Ramsey selected one of the single-serve bottles of whiskey and popped the top loose. “That would have given me an excuse to hold her down.”

Syon picked up another whiskey and toasted with it before taking a swig. “I’m looking forward to her sitting on top of me.”

Ramsey lowered his empty bottle and tossed it into a cup holder. “Looking forward?”

Syon nodded and took another slow sip of his drink.

“You’re actually plotting about how to get her?” Ramsey exclaimed, turning to stare at him. “Let the chick go. Those ladies don’t cross the tracks very well.”

Syon shrugged as they pulled up in front of the Ritz. There was a mob of fans waiting, cameras going off the moment they stepped out. Ramsey reached out, stroking some of the hands thrust toward him. Girls squealed and did their best to snatch a feel of his bare chest. One leaned all the way forward and pulled her top down. Ramsey took a good long look before offering her his hand. The security men holding the mob back let her duck beneath their spread arms. She nestled up against Ramsey with a huge smile on her lips.

Once inside, they made their way to an open elevator and punched the button for the top floor.

“Oh my God!” Ramsey’s new pet gushed. “I so can’t believe I’m here!”

“Are we sharing?” Ramsey asked Syon over the top of her blond head.

“Sharing?” The girl squealed again, louder. “Oh. My. God! I gotta text everyone!”

Ramsey grabbed the phone the girl pulled out of her purse, earning a squawk of frustration from his newest plaything. He cupped her chin and fixed her with his best attempt at a serious expression.

“Here’s the thing, sweetheart. No phone, and I’ll make sure you don’t have any time to miss your cyber buddies.”

“Alright,” she cooed.

Ramsey tucked the phone into the inside pocket of his leather jacket before the girl turned to give Syon a naughty look. She reached for his open vest, boldly running her fingers down his chest.

He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips before handing it off to Ramsey.

“Really, dude?” The elevator chimed as it arrived, and the doors slid open.

Syon offered him a two-finger mock salute before striding down the hallway away from the blaring music. There was no missing where the other members of the band were partying, but he turned and went down the hall toward his room and slid his key card into the door.

“Wait up, Syon,” Ramsey called. “I’ll be right back,” he said close to the girl’s ear as he opened the door and the music poured out like a tidal wave. He swatted the girl on her backside, and she giggled as she jumped forward to join the after-concert excess.

Ramsey made it down the hall just before Syon’s door closed all the way, bouncing it off his shoulder and pushing his way into the room.

“Fuck,” Ramsey growled. “You on the rag or something?”

Syon went toward the vanity where his makeup remover was already laid out.

“Orgies get old after about two hundred of them,” Syon answered.

“Like hell they do.” Ramsey opened the fridge and selected a beer. “She really got to you. Un-fucking-believable.” He yanked the cap off and took a long drink. “Is your pride really that tender? So she turned you down. There’s plenty of tail for the asking.”

“I want to see her again,” Syon said. “And it’s Kate. Her name is Kate.”

Ramsey started to say something, but he snapped his jaw shut, leaned back against the wall, and took another drink from his beer. Syon sat down and began yanking off one of his boots.

“Whatever,” Ramsey said at last. “The last time you got hung up on a girl, you wrote ‘Insatiable Craving,’ so go chase her ass for all I care. Just don’t forget I warned you where it was heading.”

Syon dropped his second boot onto the floor. “I think you just said it would take us to another double platinum record, so quit whining.”