No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (28 page)

“No. I’m feeling more annoyed than sexy.”

“You won’t when you see it tomorrow,” he said, laughing. “Should I see if he has time for you soon?”

I perked up at that. “Yeah. That’d be cool. I’ll see when I have some time off.”

“We’ll just take a weekend trip one of these days.”

“Sweet!”

“You’re too cute.”

Once back home, we headed upstairs to his room, and he pulled out an overnight bag, shoving in some clothes.

“Is it exciting, doing these interviews?” I asked.

“Uh…I guess,” came his reply from inside the closet.

“You guess?”

He emerged, tossing the bag next to me on the bed. “It was once, but it’s kinda routine nowadays. It’s cool to hear from fans, callin’ in and sayin’ what songs they like. I have a feelin’ we’re gonna get a lot of requests for ‘Louisiana Baby,’ and if they try to play it more than once, I’ll leave in protest.”

That made me laugh. “Not your favorite song then?”

“It’s served its purpose,” he replied.

“And what was that?”

“Lettin’ you know I was thinkin’ of you. It’s a real simple song, you know? The lyrics are pretty basic, and the music itself isn’t anythin’ to brag too hard about.”

“Maybe that’s why so many people like it. It’s basic, easy to understand, and gods forbid…
catchy
.”

“I suppose so.”

“It branches out over a wider audience.”

“I’ll spank you if you call it pop,” he warned, pointing a finger at me.

“It’s totally pop.”

He lunged, and I shrieked, suddenly finding myself facedown over his knees. With no chance to find my bearings, his hand came down hard with a resounding
smack
on my ass.

“You take that back!” he roared.

I was cracking up. I couldn’t help it. “No!”

Smack!

“It’s an abomination to your music genre!” I crowed.

Smack!

“It gets airtime with Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys!”

Smack! Smack!

I could only laugh at his spanking effort.

“You’re a fuckin’ freak, Kenna!” he shouted, rubbing his hand over the stinging bits of my bum. Lifting me, he positioned me to straddle his waist. “That gave me a chub,” he said, grinning.

“What
doesn’t
give you a chub?”

“Everythin’ you do gives me a chub. I’ve been at half-mast for the last month ’cause of you.”

Looping my arms around his shoulders, I wiggled my butt and ground into him, feeling his bulge swell.

“You’re askin’ for it now.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“What exactly are you askin’ for?” His deep voice went husky

I got wet. “You.”

“You got all of me.”

“I could really use your monster dick right about now,” I said, hearing his breath catch and seeing his pupils dilate.

“Yeah…” he breathed. “I could really use some of your pussy, too, seein’ as I won’t be gettin’ any tonight.”

His hands slid up under my T-shirt, palming my lace-covered breasts, kneading gently, rubbing his thumbs over my painfully erect nipples.

“Phil…” I whispered, my mouth just a breath from his.

“I got you,” he whispered back.

He yanked my shirt off, and I tore his over his head. Falling back onto the mattress in a tangle of tongues, lips, and naked limbs, we rid one another of the rest of our clothes in a frenzy. Settling between my thighs, he pushed home in one smooth long slide.

“Ohhh…” I moaned, arching up, taking him deeper.

He framed my face with his hands. “Look at me. Don’t close your eyes.”

He locked his eyes on mine, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to keep my eyes from rolling back into my head as my orgasm swept me up. I bit my lip so hard that I tasted the copper of blood.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, pressing his Third Eye to mine and surrendering to his own release, thrusting long and deep. “Oh
God
…
” His lips and tongue captured mine, and he reared back sharply to look at my lip. “Fuck, Kenna!”

“It wasn’t easy keeping my eyes open,” I informed him. “I notice you didn’t keep
yours
open.”

Gently, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, tracing the already sealing puncture with his tongue.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sweet and contrite. “I owe you some blood then.”

“No worries.”

We spent the whole afternoon making out, laughing, and fucking each other’s brains out until we were both sore and breathless. At five thirty, lying side by side, and panting slightly from our last round, his phone rang.

“Hey, Tim,” he answered. “Yeah, all right. See you in an hour then.”

Tossing the phone aside, he rolled, facing me. My eyes traveled greedily down his gorgeous physique, and I wished I had one more round left in me, but I was well spent.

“Leavin’ soon.” He sighed. “Will you take a shower with me?”

“Sure.”

He grinned. “I think I got road rash. We just fucked for four hours straight.”

“Serves you right! I’m going to be pimp-limpin’ into work tomorrow. Gavin’s going to make fun of me.”

“Only Gavin?”

“Well, Rita might demand details if she sees me. She’s a…
wild child
when it comes to having sexcapades.”

“What does that even mean?”

He helped me off the bed, and we both moved stiffly into the bathroom.

“It means she’s a bit of a slut—self-proclaimed, by the way. Rita’s the first to admit she’s addicted to the wilder side of sex—like orgies, BDSM, that sort of stuff.”

Phil shot me a surprised look. “Damn. She sounds terrifyin’.”

“She kinda is.”

“Is she a good boss?”

“I have no complaints,” I replied
. Except I signed away my soul to her to give me my practice.

Feeling my chest constrict with unease, I pushed that feeling deep down and hopped in the shower, Phil’s arms pulling me in close.

That contract bound me to The Center, no matter what. Rita had paid for my school and handed me a practice, and I couldn’t just walk away from it. Now that Phil had me questioning everything I’d put myself through these last six years, I wondered just how smart it had been of me to go ahead and sign away my freedom like that.
If I had truly known he’d be coming back for me, would I still have done it?
Because of it, I couldn’t go with him tonight.

It’s one fucking night. Get a grip! What are you going to do when he goes on tour? You won’t see him for days, weeks, possibly months!
That thought left me feeling miserable.

The only way out of my contract with Rita was if I paid back the money and found a replacement. I could try to convince Gavin to get his doctorate, but he would be in school for the next five years, and that really wouldn’t help me out
now.

Why am I even thinking about this? I’m not quitting my practice. I worked my ass off for it! Not even my relationship with Phil fucking Deveraux will take it from me, damn it!

At least, not yet,
a smaller voice in my head said snidely.

With his arms wrapped around me and his chin resting on top of my head, I closed my eyes and simply sank into his embrace.

“What’s botherin’ you?”

I just sighed and tightened my arms around his waist.

“Tell me,” he demanded softly.

“I wish I could go with you, is all.”

“Me, too. Call in sick or somethin’.”

“I will not. I have a responsibility to my patients, Phil. I know it’s only therapeutic medicine, but people are counting on me.”

It was his turn to sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

“You wouldn’t let down your fans,” I pointed out.

“I would for you.”

“Not for something like this. It’s less than a day.”

“I don’t want to sleep without you.”

Me neither.
“It’ll be good for us. It’s healthy to miss each other. It’ll make us appreciate each other more.”

“What a crock of shit.”

“Yeah.”

His lips pressed into my Third Eye, filling me with such an immense amount of joy that tears burned briefly behind my lids.

It’s only one night. It’s only one night. It’s only one night.

Dressed and ready to head out, we made our way downstairs where he handed me a set of keys.

“I had one made for you,” he said, a tender smile on his lips. “And the big key is the spare to the truck.”

I felt myself beam at him. “Cool!”

Laughing, he pulled me into his arms and roughly kissed me. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

Tim was already waiting for us out front. Jason and Sheri stood by the black van, giving each other sweet soft kisses.

“She’s not going with you guys?”

Phil shook his head. “She didn’t want to run the risk of missin’ her appointment with her therapist tomorrow. And I think she didn’t think it was fair for Jason to bring his girlfriend while mine had to stay behind and be all responsible and shit.”

“Yeah.”

A warm hand reached up to cupped my cheek, and maple-syrup eyes looked deeply into mine. “Today was awesome.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Will you call me when you get there?”

“Yes.”

He kissed my lips and then my Third Eye.

“Phil?”

“Yeah, Baby Girl.”

“Have fun, okay?”

He smiled. “I’ll try.”

Heading for the van, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, he patted Sheri on the back and jumped into the front seat, giving us a wave. Sheri came up and linked her arm through mine, and we waved back.

“You didn’t want to go?” I asked her.

She smiled at me. “Hell no. Now, I get you all to myself. You up for some sushi?”

“Woman, I am
always
up for some sushi.”

Despite the terrific company, a hollow ache in my chest prevailed. It was just so weird to me that it had come down to the fact that I really
needed
him to feel like myself. It truly felt as though I was missing half of me.

Phil called when Sheri and I had just returned to my place after a fantastic sushi dinner, which she’d insisted she pay for.

“Hey, babe,” I said by way of answering.

“Hey. We’re here. Gonna grab some grub and then head to the station. What are you up to?”

“Just got back from sushi with Sheri. We’re going to hang out and watch TV until you guys come on.”

“Cool. X called me. He and Flip are gonna drive up to hang with us—well, with Darren at least.”

“Why aren’t they doing the interview, too?”

“Too many voices with no faces. Jason and I are the two most well-known in the band, so…”

“Gotcha.”

“I miss you already.”

That made me smile like a goof. “I miss you, too.”

In the background, I heard Jason and another man’s voice crooning, “I miss you,” and making kissing noises.

Laughing, I told him, “Go, before they get real bad.”

“Want me to call you when we’re done?”

“Text me. If I’m awake, I’ll call back.”

“All right. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I hung up and busted Sheri grinning at me.

“What?” I huffed.

“Nothing.”

“Hey, if you want, you’re welcome to crash here. That way, you don’t have to be all alone in that massive house, and you can join me for yoga in the morning without having to go through the backyard.”

Pleasantly surprised, she replied, “Sure! That’d be great.”

Alys showed up, and we busted out Sir Speedy and watched some Food Network until it was time to turn on the radio.

“X was so happy he didn’t have to be there for the interview,” said Alys. “He gets nervous when he has to speak into a mic. How he can go on stage in front of thousands and thrash away on the bass but can’t make a squeak into a microphone is beyond me.”

“That’s because all he really
can
do into a mic is squeak,” replied Sheri.

“Fair enough,” said Alys.

Two minutes to ten, we muted the TV and turned up the volume on the stereo.

“DJ Raina Pallantine here with two of Louisiana’s finest metal boys for the
Mad for Metal
Hour
—Phil Deveraux and Jason Jones of NOLA’s Junk! Tonight, we’re going to be playing their greatest hits, their own personal favorites, and finding out what it means to be a part of one of metal’s most cherished sound machines. Hey, guys!”

“Hello,”
said Phil.

“Hi,” said Jason.

“So, you’re all back from five years of recording albums and world tours. How does it feel being home again?”

“Fantastic,” replied Phil’s sexy deep voice. “We’re just happy to be back with family and friends.”

“You tend to forget just how much you miss home when you’re gone for so long,” stated Jason.

“And X and Flipper are happy, too?” asked Raina.

“Yeah,” said Phil. “We’re all just takin’ a well-earned break. We got the House of Horrors comin’ up, and we’re lookin’ forward to that. It’s always great for us to be up on stage.”

“There’s talk of you guys working on some new sounds and new songs with a mellow feel. Why the change?”

“I don’t think it’s so much of a change as it’s the four of us wantin’ to see what more we can do,” replied Jason. “I think what we produce will always have its roots in rock and metal. That’s what’s in our hearts. Right, Phil?”