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“We’re going to start moving, Ms. Napier.”

She jumped when the driver’s voice came over the sound system.

Well hell. Everyone knew who she was and what she was doing.

Except for her.

The coach shuddered as the powerful engine started up. Kate sat down on the sofa, realizing Syon had somehow managed to turn her into his personal pet.

She had her very own luxury pet carrier to prove it.

* * *

“She’s hard to please,” Ramsey fired off the moment Syon climbed into the music room coach.

The rest of the band members were fiddling with their instruments as the drivers began the task of moving Toxsin to its next concert location. Engines turned over, filling the area with a dull roar.

“Having a chick along is going to kill the mood,” Taz added as he tuned his guitar.

“She’ll have her own space,” Syon insisted. “We got another three months on the road. Without her, we’re going to look like shit and be reduced to buying off the rack at a Harley Davidson store, because you’re all just as hard on your gear as I am. None of you has more than two pairs of pants left either.”

There were several reluctant “all rights.”

“Why did you have to kiss her?” Ramsey accentuated his question with a squeal from his guitar. “You’re a total prick when you’re stuck on a girl.”

Syon flipped Ramsey the bird as he picked up his guitar and began to tune it.

Kate was making him crazy, but he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. The spark of excitement stirring up his insides made him realize how bored he’d been. Easy pussy was like junk food, cheap and unsatisfying in the long run.

“She’s like a breath of fresh air,” he argued.

Drake and Taz groaned.

“I thought the last one cured you of your tender-heart issues,” Drake said from behind a set of drums positioned at the back end of the motor home.

“We did get ‘Insatiable Craving’ out of it,” Taz mused.

“Yeah, but we had to restrain ourselves from putting the poor bastard out of his misery,” Ramsey added. “My trigger finger is already itching.”

Syon pulled on a few of his strings, filling the coach with noise. “I’ll remember all that love coming from you, Drake, the next time I have to bribe a bouncer to turn a blind eye when you get too shitfaced to keep your hands off the strippers, and he wants to have your ass hauled off to jail.”

“All right…I guess we need to look good. But I wish we could have brought the guy along, even if he has a taste for sausage,” Taz grumbled before putting his energy into the music. He was the only member of the band without long hair. Instead, he had short spikes that accentuated his Asian features.

People looked up when they drove past—there was no way to contain all the sound inside the coach. The rest of the band was in good form, but Syon caught Ramsey watching him a few times.

Ramsey knew him too well.

When they broke off, it was Ramsey who put his guitar on its stand and moved over to sit beside Syon. Ramsey began nursing a beer. The silence grew between them while the other members of the band waited to see what Syon would say.

“The rule is ‘no drugs,’ not ‘no drug addicts,’” Syon clarified. “She’s got some good business sense in that pretty head. Can’t really blame her for not wanting to lose a chunk of her holdings because the dude was packing a rock of meth.”

Ramsey tipped the long neck back before answering. “I guess I can live with that.”

Taz and Drake were taking silent notes at the other end of the coach. Syon shared a look with each of them before he drew in a deep breath.

“We need a leather artist, and there aren’t a whole lot of choices if we want a good one,” Syon continued.

Ramsey’s eyes narrowed. “Do you hear how many excuses you’re making? We’re not playing in piss holes anymore. We get whatever the fuck we want, when we want it, and you sure as shit don’t have to put up with a woman playing hard to get.”

“She’s not playing,” Syon shot back.

Ramsey snorted.

“Maybe I like the fact that she doesn’t just jump my bones the second she’s hot.”

“I bet she likes it too, because you’re already showering her with stuff. We’re stuffed into two coaches so she can have her girly privacy.” Ramsey tossed the empty bottle across the coach where a trash can sat.

“What the hell is your problem?” Syon demanded.

“You!” Ramsey yelled. “You’re messing up what was working just fine.”

“I’m solving our fucking wardrobe problem.”

Drake started hammering on the drums, drowning out everything. He kept at it until Ramsey got up and retrieved another beer from the fridge. Syon lifted his leg and laid it across the sofa, making it clear he didn’t want company. Taz joined Drake, driving home how much the rest of the band didn’t want to hear him and Ramsey going at it.

So Syon got up off the sofa and started playing. Music was the one thing he and Ramsey always agreed on. Fame had been good to them all, but there was still one thing it couldn’t deliver: happiness. Ramsey was pissed at the world because he was the same man he’d been before they became megastars. Fame didn’t drive their demons away.

As for himself?

Syon wasn’t sure. Even with all the fame, he still craved acceptance. And Kate had been so goddamned hot in his arms. His cock hardened just thinking about it.

But she was holding back. Struggling against the tide of desire trying to drag them both out to sea. On one hand, he admired her. But on the other, maybe Ramsey was right. She might just be working him over, holding out just long enough to get the leash around his neck.

He wished to fuck he knew, because he’d spent too much time working to be where he was. It was gonna suck if he ended up like Ramsey: so pissed he couldn’t enjoy the success he’d earned.

But Kate didn’t want him because of that success. Which made it just a little bit funny.

If he’d had a taste for irony.

* * *

The coach was a marvel.

Kate spent a good hour just exploring it. There was a kitchen that someone had stocked with the basics in miniature. Kate lifted the tiny Tabasco bottle, enjoying the fact that it was still made of glass. Beyond the kitchen was a full-size shower. The bathroom was across the hall and had a nice vanity with a marble top. If she hadn’t been able to feel the vibration from the road, she would have thought she was in a hotel room. A really nice one. Once they parked, there were sections that would slide out to make it feel very roomy.

Farther back were the two bunks Syon had told her about. Each one had a privacy curtain, flat screen TV, and even an Xbox.

There were also mirrored ceilings, and condoms discreetly stored by the pillow.

She suppressed a giggle. Well, at least they weren’t shattering her fantasies of how rock stars lived.

The back of the coach was a large office. It contained a full-size desk, computer, and printer all latched down. On all three sides of the office were cleverly designed windows with little half arches on the top to make it feel like an office building.

Kate felt a slight shift as the caravan of coaches began to climb the mountainous stretch of highway in the middle of the state known as the Grapevine, the motor coaches taking surprisingly well to the steep incline of the road. They must have gotten crap for gas mileage though. Once they made it to the other side, the interstate became a straight shot up the state of California. The coach settled into a steady gait as the miles passed.

And boredom set in.

Kate tinkered with her tablet, browsing Toxsin’s website to discover where she was going. Oakland, Portland, and on to Seattle. She’d be a bold-faced liar if she didn’t admit that the European stops excited her.

A phone buzzed in the kitchen, but she was too comfortable in the bunk, so she let it ring. It probably wasn’t for her anyway.