Kellan (7 page)

“This what you came here for?” she said. “Is this the other part of my audition?”
 

The fuck?
 

“What was this?” she said; her voice changed and filled with hot menace. “The other night too? You set me up?” Her hand was still damn close to my dick and I didn’t like where this was going.
 

“What?”
 

She changed again. In the space of a breath she went from indignant to sultry. She slid her hands over my leather cut, resting them on my chest. God, she smelled so good as she tapped her fingers over my heart. “This what I have to do,
baby? Is that the play? If I want this gig, I gotta get on my knees for you first? That about right?”
 

What. The. Holy. Fuck. I finally did move then. I grabbed her wrists and held them away from me. I was careful not to hurt her, but I held her firm as she tried to jerk them away. I was afraid she
would
try to slap me across the face if I let her go. She pulled against me but I kept her hands in the air. God help me, but it made my dick stir even more the way she struggled.
 

“This was an audition, pure and simple. Based on how the
Den
crowd responded to what you do up on that stage. They loved you. They want you here. I want you here. It has nothing to do with what did or didn’t happen the other night. That was just . . . well . . . mutual, I hope. But it was bad judgment on my part.”
 

When she pulled hard against me the next time, I let her go. She lost her balance and took a wobbly step back.
 

“I’m sorry if the other night gave you the wrong impression. That was my fault. I knew what I was there about. You didn’t.  It was unprofessional and I’m sorry. I really am.”
 

“Kellan Carter, that’s what the hostess said your name was,” she said. She turned and grabbed my business card off the breakroom table. It was the one I’d left with Brad
The Sand Bar
bartender. Mallory held it between her index and third finger and flicked it at me. “This is your place?”
 

I nodded. “I manage it. But it belongs to the club.”
 

“A biker bar. I’ve heard of the Great Wolves, you know. I know what you’re in to.”
 

A different kind of heat flared in my belly at the look that came in her eyes. It would take a generation before we stopped getting that kind of look at the mention of the club name. She didn’t know shit about what I was in to. She was trying to act tough. If she were a guy I might have gotten physical then.
 

“This is straight up, I swear to God,” I said. “We need a headliner and you and the band are perfect. I’m offering you a permanent gig. We can hammer out the details, but I need to know pretty much now if you’re interested. Who negotiates for the band?”
 

Mallory’s eyes widened. She took a step toward me, then another. She stood no more than two inches away. It was like my body was tuned perfectly to hers. I
sensed every curve, every tiny hair raised on her arms. A tiny pulse beat a furious pace in her neck. “I do,” she whispered.
 

She slid her hands into her back pockets. This time, I don’t think she meant anything by the gesture. If anything, it seemed like she was afraid to touch me. There was no denying the spark between us and maybe it scared her. But when she stood like that, her perfect tits thrust out, it was all I could do not to stare.
 

“Well?” I said. I put my own hands back into a neutral position through my belt loops. If I touched her again, if she touched me, I can’t say for sure I could hold back.
 

“I don’t believe you,” she said in a voice so small it shocked me maybe more than if she’d just hauled off and slapped me. “This isn’t about some gig. You want what everyone wants. You want what I make them want when I’m out there. Only you’re in a position to hold it over my head now, aren’t you?”
 

I put my hands up, palms out. He words damn near tore me in half. Who was this girl? Who had fucked with her head so much she couldn’t believe my offer was legitimate? She
knew
how fucking good she was on that stage. Didn’t she?
 

“Maybe,” I said. “But what I saw out there, what I saw at
The Sand Bar
the other night . . . that was something special. You don’t belong at that dive. You’re too good for it. Maybe you’re even too good to be here. But here you are and what I’m prepared to offer is probably a hell of lot more than you’re used to trying to survive gig to gig. I said it before. I’m sorry. I should have been straight with you the other night. Maybe I shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did. Tonight though, I’m not after what you think I am.”
 

“Aren’t you?”
 

“You asking if I’d like to fuck you? Yeah. I’d like to fuck you. I’ve been thinking about it pretty much constantly since I met you. But I’m not a fucking animal and whatever you think you know about this club’s reputation, my offer is legit. I’m capable of holstering my cock for the good of the business.” My answer shocked her. But I wouldn’t lie to her. Just because I was thinking about bending her over the damn table right now, didn’t mean I couldn’t control myself. She needed to know that.
 

Her mouth opened in a stunned “oh.” Then she finally cracked a natural smile. If I thought her voice was sexy before, her deep laughter damn near sent me to my knees.
 

“All right, Mr. Carter,” she said. “You’ve convinced me my virtue is safe, at least for the night. Now, why don’t you convince me your offer really is legitimate? I think maybe you’re underestimating how well my band does going gig to gig.”
 

Mr. Carter. I don’t think anybody had called me that since . . . well . . . ever. Fine. I promised her we’d be all business.
 

“Have a seat, Miss Rhodes.” I gestured to the table. She smiled, took a step backward and sat down. I sat across from her. This helped. Having the table between us made it easier to stop thinking about bending her over it. At least a little.
 

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Earlier, I’d written the basics of what I wanted to offer her and the band for playing here.  I knew the terms were fair. More than fair. I slid the paper to her and waited while she read it. She tried to cover but her eyes widened just a little.
 

“Okay.” She smiled. “Maybe you haven’t underestimated.”
 

“I think I know what you’re worth to this place and I’m not afraid to pay for it. But make sure you read all of it. While you’re under contract with me, you play only for me. You’re done at
The Sand Bar
or anywhere else. People need to know the only way they get to see you play is here at the
Den.
You think your guys can live with that?”
 

“Creative freedom,” she said. Her eyes darted across the words on the page. A little crease formed between her pale blue eyes. Her nose wrinkled and she brushed that shock of pink hair out of her face. Fuck. She was sexy when she fumed at me. She was even sexier on stage. But when Mallory Rhodes worked her mind, she was sexiest of all.
 

She looked up. “We decide our sets.”
 

I shrugged and nodded. “I can work with that. As long as the flavor of what you do stays like I saw tonight. You play what you want. But tell your guys I’m not running a fucking Seattle coffee house.”
 

She smiled and I noticed a dimple in her cheek that wasn’t there before. I realized why. This was her real smile, not the performance. I got bold and asked a question I knew might piss her off. I didn’t care.
 

“What about Kurt Cobain out there?” I said. “You think you can keep him under control? I don’t want to see what I saw tonight. Whatever’s going on
between you and your boyfriend needs to stay out of here. And don’t tell me it’s none of my business. The contract that’s about to come out of that piece of paper makes it my business.”
 

She furrowed her brow again. “My what? Kurt? Oh. You mean Justin.” She laughed. “He’s not my boyfriend. It’s actually a little bit worse than that. He’s my cousin. And yeah, he’ll stay under control.”
 

My heart flipped a little when she said it. It took me a second to realize it was from relief. When she looked up I knew she saw it on my face. She cocked her head a little like she was debating whether to ask me about it. But she didn’t. She tucked the same shock of pink hair behind her ear and smiled at me. The real smile. The one that sent a shockwave straight through me and made me want to flip the fucking table and take her.
 

For an instant I realized I was a damned liar and maybe a bigger fool.  Because right then, I was just thinking, fuck the club. Fuck the business. I want this girl and I knew I’d do just about any damn thing to get her.
 

Chapter Seven

Mallory
 

“Is this shit for real?” Bruno perched between the bucket seats of Justin’s van the whole way back from Lincolnshire. “I mean for real for real?” He clutched his drumsticks in one hand and the crumpled piece of paper Kellan gave me just an hour ago in the other.
 

Justin kept both hands on the wheel but arched a brow at me. I had my feet propped up on the dash and I knew his look was as much about that as it was the offer we’d just been made.
 

“It’s for real,” I said for the thousandth time.
 

“Will you quit hopping up and down like a damn chimpanzee?” All I saw of Tim was his hand as he slugged Bruno in the shoulder to get him to sit back down.
 

“It’s not a bad offer,” Justin said. It was actually the first thing resembling a sentence I’d gotten out of him since we left. He kept that brotherly look of disapproval trained right at me to the point I wanted to smack it off him. I knew he was waiting until we were alone before he really let me have it. Tim and Bruno were great at what they did, and had been with us since we were teenagers, but this band was really Justin’s and mine. Whatever we decided would be between the two of us.
 

Ten more minutes down the freeway and we got to Bruno’s house just outside of Lincolnshire. The two of them scrambled out. Tim had been crashing on Bruno’s couch after his girlfriend kicked him out for cheating on her. I loved Tim to death, but he’d never stayed faithful to any girl longer than about five minutes. Bruno slid across the seat and slapped the crumpled paper back in my hand before he got out. We watched them walk up to the house. Bruno hopped up and down and all around Tim, trying to get a reaction out of him. He did look a little like a chimpanzee. I bit back the urge to yell at him not to scrape his knuckles on the ground to where he couldn’t play the drums.
 

As soon as they were inside, Justin backed the van out. I waited. Any minute now and he was going to unleash on me. It had been like this since we were kids. At twenty-six he was only ten weeks older than me. He’d tried to play the part of my older brother from the minute we both could walk.  Finally, I couldn’t stand it another second.
 

“Just get it out of your system, will you? Warn me about all of the things you think I don’t already know.”
 

Justin gripped the wheel harder and ground his teeth so hard they crunched as loud as gravel under the tires. He took his eyes off the road for a split second and I swear they shot fire.
 

“Don’t sit there and act like you don’t know what’s going on, Mal. That guy wants to fuck you. If that’s what you want too, fine. That’s up to you. Just don’t drag the rest of us into it, okay?”
 

I think he expected me to tell him it wasn’t like that. But Justin was the guy who called me on my bullshit every single time. I loved him and hated him for it just like he did for me.
 

The truth was, everything Kellan Carter admitted to me back in that bar was the same for me. Since I saw him on the beach back at Hart Lake, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He stirred something deep inside me and I wanted more of it. Burned from thinking about him. He was strong and solid and when he looked at me, I thought I might melt from the inside out. He was exactly the kind of guy who always led me into trouble. Hard muscles, smoldering eyes and that bad-boy swagger that I just knew could wreck me someday.
 

“Will you believe me when I tell you I’ve got it handled?” I lowered my voice to barely above a whisper. I could pretend to be offended by Justin’s glare and judgment, but he’d know I was full of shit.
 

He didn’t answer me at first. He just kept his eyes on the road and breathed heavy. It went on like that forever, until he made the turn up my driveway and killed the engine. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and twirled them around his fingers. Finally, he shifted in his seat and faced me.
 

“Just, will you be careful?”
 

I smiled and reached across the seat to brush the hair out of his eyes. Kurt Cobain. That’s what Kellan had called him. It wasn’t a half-bad description. I had a mind to tell Justin that. Except I knew it would just annoy him. If we were going to attempt to work for the Great Wolves, I didn’t need to add fuel to that particular fire.
 

“I love you, Jus,” I finally said. “And it’s going to be okay. You know we need the money. And I’m sure you’re right. It’s too good to be true. So, it probably is. But maybe we could just ride it out for a few weeks, or months even. Pay some
shit off. Get you those amps you’ve been saving for. Maybe even work on getting rid of this awful bucket of bolts you drive us around in.”