Bend (A Stepbrother Romance) (13 page)

They giggled, their focus entirely on him, now.
Silly girls
.

“Which of you have met him in person?” Zach asked, lifting his phone to snap pictures. I left my camera dangling around my neck—these girls wouldn’t be the focus of the story at all. Five of them raised their hands. “Aaaaand which of you have slept with him?” I cringed. They shot me sympathetic looks, and only one of them timidly raised a hand.

I frowned. I definitely would have guessed more. Even Zach asked, “Are you guys sure?” They all nodded. “What was he like?” Zach asked the girl. “What happened?”

She shrugged. “He was a lot less of an asshole than my other favorite rock star,” she said.

“Right?!” one of the other girls cut in. “I felt that way when I met him that one time. He’s so fierce onstage, but he was, like, totally nice when I said hello.”

The other girls offered similar stories. They were afraid of him at first, because of his aggressive music and his reputation of being very difficult to work with, but after encountering him in person, they were convinced that he was a teddy bear underneath his tattoos and leather pants.

“This isn’t very useful,” Zach muttered to me when they turned their attention to a crew member passing by.

“I know,” I said, wringing my hands. Wendi was counting on us—on me.

The flock of girls screamed. Our heads whipped around and we spotted two black SUVs approaching from around the corner. “Band’s here,” Zach said, “Let’s get closer.”

“He’s not going to want to see me,” I said, though I followed Zach and pushed my way through the group of girls.

I couldn’t believe I’d been just like them only a week or so ago. Screaming, jumping, losing my damn mind over seeing Keir Sonder in person—it seemed so silly, now.

Their security team got out of the vehicles first and forcefully pushed everyone back. Heels stamped on toes, shoulders hit elbows, but I was used to the jostling, it didn’t throw me off, didn’t shake my determination.

I glanced over my shoulder at Zach as the members of the band passed. He raised his phone. “Get ready.”

“For what? There’s no story here, Z—” I didn’t get his name out. He shoved me forward, hard, sending me stumbling right past the security guys and into Keir’s path. It was so fast that I didn’t even realize what had happened until Keir’s hands were on my arms.

“Cadence? What the fuck are you doing here?”

The girls screamed and shoved themselves bodily at the bodyguards, trying to squeeze past just as I had. One of the guys reached out to grab me but Keir shook his head and the big man backed down.

“I… I… My boss sent me to interview the groupies.” The girl’s screaming was getting louder.

One of the security guys spoke up. “Sir, we have to move.” Was it my imagination, or had the mob gotten larger?

“Son of a bitch.” He clasped me around my upper arm, hard. “Come on.” We were escorted inside. I glanced back over my shoulder, trying to spot Zach, to catch his eye, but all I saw was his camera raised over the heads of the shrieking fangirls.

Then the door closed us inside. The darkness of the hallway left me nearly blinded after waiting out in the afternoon sun, and I rubbed my eyes. A deep voice ahead of us mumbled, “Unauthorized person inside.”

My heart leapt in my throat. I turned to face Keir—his mouth was set in a grim line. He didn’t look concerned about the situation. He only looked like he didn’t know what the hell to make of me.

We were hustled down the hall and into a small, musty office after one of the bodyguards swept through it, searching for intruders. They shut us inside with barely a word.

Keir found the light and switched it on, revealing a cluttered desk and ancient green chair. “Does this happen a lot?” I asked, gripping my camera, nervously tugging at its strap around the back of my neck.

“Yeah.” He hopped up onto the edge of the desk to sit. “Fans can get into some crazy, stalkerish shit. You know.”

I looked at my feet.
This looks bad. Really bad
. I wished I’d refused to come out to Denver at all. “My boss sent me,” I said, knowing exactly how lame it sounded.

He scoffed. “Your boss sent you up the river.” I tilted my head. “She set you up. This is a ‘reunion,’ ” he said, making air quotes.

God, I’d suspected, I’d known this was what she and Zach were up to, but I’d walked right into it. My face twisted into a sneer. “I actually thought for a minute that this was a goddamn promotion!”

He chuckled. “Calm down.”

It only made me angrier when I was told to calm down. It was especially bad coming from him, after his comments about how he liked “short chicks with tempers,” or whatever the hell it was he said. I couldn’t think straight and I couldn’t remember correctly.

“You calm down!” I barked back. Words started to pour out as the stress from the last week bubbled over. I pointed an accusatory finger at him and said, “How do I know that
you
didn’t know our parents were getting married, huh? Maybe it was
your
idea to get me invited backstage. You’ve got some sick fetish, you wanted to fuck me while pretending we were related.” The steam ran out of me at the end of the ridiculous claim. I felt crazy just saying it, and laughed weakly as my tirade ended.

“Is that really what you think?” he asked with an infuriating smirk.

“No. And it’s just as ridiculous for you to think I knew a thing about it, either. About anything.”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand through the messy waves of his hair. “I’m starting to believe you.”

“Only starting to? Think you’ll ever apologize for what you said?”

He reached out to grab my camera strap and used it to pull me closer. “I’m sorry that I was rude to you in my father’s house,” he said. “I’ve got better manners than that, most of the time.” His eyes searched mine.

“That’s it?” I asked. “ ‘Sorry for my manners, but I meant every word?’ That’s how you’re leaving it?” Keir’s gaze dropped to my lips, and his voice grew quieter. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get to fuck that mouth when we were together,” he said, running a thumb along my bottom lip. My breath caught and my eyes narrowed but I didn’t pull away. Shit, he was putting me under his spell again.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he went on. He tightened his grip on the strap. I leaned back but he left no slack, trapping me in place before him.

“You can’t say that,” I said. “I’m your stepsister, for God’s sake.”

He shrugged as if that meant nothing—that damn, arrogant shrug that made me want to jump him or slap him, or both at the same time. The one that said, “I do what I want when I want, and I don’t give a damn about anything.” Too cool to care. The whole rock star act.

But he did care. He couldn’t stop thinking about me, he’d made a half-assed apology… I took a deep breath. I had to escape before I said or did something stupid.

“We should get out of here,” I said.

He nodded toward the door. “Not until the guys say we can.”

“Uh, we’re not prisoners, I’m pretty sure we can leave whenever we want.”
Now. Leave now.
My chest was rising and falling with deep breaths, making me wish I’d buttoned a few more buttons and covered more of my cleavage.

He tugged me even closer, making me trip a step forward. I caught myself with a hand on his shoulder. “So leave,” he said. Then he leaned in and spoke, his breath hot against my ear. “Go ahead. I know you don’t want to be trapped in here alone with me. I’m sure you don’t want to touch me.” His eyes traced the path of my arm to my hand resting on his shoulder, then back up to my face before settling on my lips. “I’m sure you’d hate it if I kissed you right now.” His voice was low. Hypnotic. My fingers dug into his hard muscles and I licked my lips.

“Don’t. We can’t.” My denial was weak. I took a deep breath, savoring the smell of his soap and his skin. “I thought you hated me,” I whispered.

“No.” He shook his head slowly. “And you don’t hate me.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine—just a feather-light touch. The strap at the back of my neck kept me from pulling away, but I didn’t want to. God help me, I didn’t want to. I still wanted him, despite everything that had happened.“Keir…” Warm waves of desire swept over me. My lips yearned for his, even though he wore a knowing smirk.

Instead, he kissed my neck, just below my ear. Goosebumps rose across my skin, and I shivered. “You’re a muse. You know that?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I breathed, tilting my head back to give him more access. He planted another slow, hot kiss right at my throat. I groaned.

“It means I write songs for you,” he said. “It means I get hard for you.” He grabbed my free hand and placed it over his crotch, the bulge more than evident against my palm. “See?”

I traced the hard length of him over his pants. It would have been so easy to unbutton them and slip my hand inside. The rational part of my mind was quickly shutting down, especially with his lips tickling along my jaw. “A song?” I heard myself ask.

“Mmhm.” He pinched my bottom lip between his teeth. I tried to lean in, to finally connect my mouth with his, but he evaded me with a chuckle. “A new song. I can’t finish it.”

I was throbbing all over, I craved him so badly. All good sense was going out the window. “Why not?”

“Because I haven’t had enough of you yet.” He cupped my jaw and tilted my head. Between his hand and my strap, I couldn’t have been more trapped. I was a prisoner. His prisoner. He could have released me and thrown the door wide open and I would have been just as unable to escape him.

His kiss was scorching hot. He licked along my lips before demanding entry, and I granted it with an eager gasp. I squeezed his erection as his tongue slipped inside my mouth to tangle with my own.

His grip on my jaw relaxed and his callused fingers traced down, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They caressed my neck, then my chest, then lower, skimming the tops of my breasts. I lifted onto my toes and whined, needing him, needing so much more.

“Fuck, Cadence,” he growled. My heart beat in a frenzied rhythm as I pressed myself closer to him, crushing my breasts against his broad chest.

Moving quickly, he slid from the desk and lifted me up, turning us so I was seated on the edge and he was standing between my knees. He looked down at me, lips glistening and chest heaving.

“I’m going to fucking devour you,” he said, his voice raw. He tugged my shirt open wider, popping two buttons right off and sending them skittering across the floor.

I was beyond caring. I leaned back on my elbows and he followed, squeezing my breasts, kissing the tops of them with feverish lips. He tugged my bra down and admired them for just a moment before sucking one of my nipples between his lips.

My toes curled and my head fell back. His mouth felt so good. And I could hardly believe this was happening.
Again
. My hips shifted against the hard wood surface. I was so turned on I could barely bite back the sounds that rose in my throat.

A heavy hand banged on the door three times. We both froze, startled by the sound. “All’s clear! Sound check!” a voice called from outside.

“Fuck,” Keir hissed. His eyes met mine. “I’ve gotta go.”

“I don’t know if that was good timing or bad timing,” I said, looking down between us. My shirt was wide open, my bare breasts spilling out. Somehow he’d gotten his own pants open and was about to pull himself free when we were interrupted.

He straightened and ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” This time he shouted it. “Why the hell are you here?” It sounded more rhetorical this time, so I didn’t answer. I just fixed my bra and closed my shirt as well as I could.

“I think…” I released a shaky breath. “This is all my fault. I think we shouldn’t see each other.”
I should have stayed away
. “This is too messed up.”

He waved a hand. “I don’t give a fuck about your tabloids.”

“Papers aside, it’s still messed up.” I shook my head. “Our parents…”

“Meet me after the show.” He ran his hand over the stubble of his jaw.
Shit, I’ve stressed him out before his concert. Why am I so stupid?
“We should talk about this at least, right?” I nodded. “I’ll text you where. Take a cab and come alone.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He paced for a moment as he caught his breath, then rushed at me, still perched on the desk. He looked like he wanted to kiss me again, but he stopped himself and pulled back. “See you later.”

“Yeah. Later.”

I watched him go, his shoulders tense and his fists tight.
Shit
. I’d done that to him.

And I knew exactly how he felt. My heart hadn’t slowed for a damn second.
I should blow him off. I shouldn’t show up later, I should go home, right now
. Avoiding each other was obviously the right thing to do for both of us, for our sanity.

But I was still so drawn to him.
He said I’m his muse
. That connection I’d felt so quickly after meeting him was still there, no matter how much either of us wanted to deny it, no matter how my job and the gossip and our parents tried to sever it.