Before she could respond, Mason stomped into the green room. With his brow furrowed and his lips thinned, he looked kind of p.i.s.sed. Apparently, he didn't like being ignored any more than she did. She cringed inwardly. No, she'd just been busy doing her job. She turned back to Jax.

It's not like she'd stuck her tongue out at him or anything, but so much for acting mature and giving him a chance. He'd shot that plan to h.e.l.l when he'd pulled out his bazooka of indifference and put on his CEO costume this morning.

"Kevan," Mason said with a demanding edge that sent tiny chills racing along her arms.

Looking away from Jax, she turned to see Mason glowering at her. That, in and of itself, wasn't anything new-he'd been glowering at her since they'd met. Well, alternating between charming, glowering, and smirking. Frickin' caveman in fancy clothes is what he was. Although, this time something was different. Something in his eyes screamed "seriously p.i.s.sed off."

Now we're getting somewhere.

With the tip of her tongue, Kevan moistened her lower lip. Maybe on purpose. Probably. "Hey, cowboy, was that an awesome show or what?" She reached over and patted Jax's heavily inked forearm. "You were amazing."

Jax raised a brow and looked at her with questions dancing in his eyes.

"Go get your stuff, Kevan. I want to talk to Jax."

Her anger spiked, but she laughed. Is he for real?

"That's not gonna happen, Mason. I'm busy. And no one tells me what to do." She turned back to Jax and opened her mouth to say something. An arm reached around her waist and pulled her backward into a very big, hard body. Oh G.o.d, his very big, hard body. The full length of her back made contact with the front of his chest.

Pulling her off to the side, he arched over her and leaned in to whisper in her ear, his breath hot on the back of her neck. "You think I'm angry because you've ignored me all day. I'm not. I get you're trying to pay me back for not being attentive or including you this morning. I won't ignore you again. But it's time to go." She felt her nipples harden and her breath quicken. Surely he could feel her heart pounding against her chest, trying to escape.

"If you're not mad, then what the h.e.l.l are you freaking out about?" she spit out.

"Gave you the s.p.a.ce you needed. Let you take care of business all night. Watched as every man in this stadium undressed you with their eyes. Work is done. My penance has been paid. It's time to go," he growled loud enough for a couple of people to look up from their conversations.

"But-"

He dragged her even farther away from the crowd. "Enough. You're done here, darlin'. Go. Get. Your. Things. I need to talk to Jax. Then I'm going to carry your a.s.s back to our RV, because I can't wait for you to walk there. Then I'm going yank up your dress and rip off your panties."

Kevan's chest heaved, and she involuntarily fanned her face. How had she not realized how hot it was in the room? Had it been so hot in here all night?

"Unless you say no now, I'm going to bend you over the kitchen counter and f.u.c.k you until you can't remember your own name. Until all you can think about is me. Do you understand?" All the smart words and clever comebacks she'd formed in her head flew out of her brain. She had nothing.

"Answer me, Kevan. Do you understand?" Almost sweet, even in the midst of his totally unacceptable caveman behavior-which should really offend her, not excite her-he was giving her an out.

b.u.t.terflies took flight in her belly as she looked up at Jax, who was watching the scene unfold, the lines on his face deepening. She nodded. With what felt like a Herculean effort, she untangled from Mason's grasp and walked over to Jax.

"It's fine. I just need Mason. I mean, Mason needs to go over tomorrow's schedule."

With a skeptical look, he nodded and hugged her. "You know where I am if you need me."

She planted a light kiss on his cheek. Jax was a good guy and was becoming a great friend.

"I do." She turned and searched the room for her bag while Mason approached Jax. She hesitated, then realized both men could handle their alpha-selves without her help. Let them figure it out. She had a bag to find and a man to bag. In that order.

When Kevan exited the restroom, Mason was already there waiting. He took two long strides toward her, and in front of a roomful of people, he lifted and tossed her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. She started to protest, to say something about his inappropriate behavior. But she didn't. Why fight the inevitable? Instead, she laid her cheek against his firm back when he smacked her bottom. Hard. Her center flooded with moisture and heat as the cold sting was replaced with warmth.

Despite her arousal, she yelled, "Ouch, what was that for? Put me down. Now!" She continued to protest as he marched back through the room and out the door to the sounds of catcalls, whistles, and shouts of laughter. She was so never living this down.

She wriggled and shouted at him the entire two-minute trip of shame to their motor home. His only response was another firm smack on her a.s.s. The spanks infuriated her. How f.u.c.king dare he? Unfortunately, her body was rebelling now too. Her core was radioactive-melting.

She'd always enjoyed a little slap and tickle, but had never found a man she could trust enough with her pa.s.sions and fantasies. Mason didn't require her trust; it was like he instinctively knew what she wanted, what her body craved. Everything he did was designed to drive her crazier and crazier. Even when he got all domineering and bossy. What kind of f.u.c.ked-up feminist did that make her? She was going to have to turn in her independent woman card when this tour was over. But until then, she was going to enjoy this big, bossy, s.e.xy beast of a man. And his hand on her a.s.s.

When they reached the inside of the bus, the room whirled, and she landed on her feet not seconds before Mason's mouth crashed down on hers. This was not the gentle, considerate lover Mason had been previously. This was all alpha male-hot, strong, and demanding. His mouth pummeled and punished hers in the most erotic and exciting way. He left no corner of her lips, her mouth unexplored. His large hands, wide over her shoulders, ran down the length of her arms until each one circled a wrist. He slowly pulled her wrists together and held them with one big hand while the other sought the bottom of her dress.

"d.a.m.n, how many f.u.c.king layers does this dress have?"

She smiled against his mouth and gasped when his fingers found her wet panties. He ran his long finger up and down the silky material and slowly pulled it to the side. He moaned when his finger reached into her p.u.s.s.y and felt how ready she was for him.

He pulled his hand free from her panties. Kevan gasped when he unexpectedly and roughly turned her around. Still gripping her wrists in one hand, he leaned down to whisper into her ear. "Do you want me like this, bombsh.e.l.l?" Again, the words weren't there. They stuck in her throat like dry cotton. She nodded, her chest heaving and her legs quivering as he pushed her hips against the kitchen counter with his.

The bus was quiet except for the sc.r.a.pe of metal and then the slither of leather as he pulled his belt from his jeans. Her nipples hardened when she felt the stiff, cold material encircle her wrists. She was pinned. Helpless. But not really. She knew he'd stop the second she asked him, though she had no intention of ever asking him to stop.

"Yes," she hissed as she heard the soft sound of his pants. .h.i.tting the floor.

"I want you so f.u.c.king badly I can't even take the time to get our clothes off." Mason pressed his hardening c.o.c.k into the soft folds of material covering her a.s.s before he lifted her dress up again and tugged her panties aside. He bit gently into her shoulder as he slid snuggly into her sheath. He was so big, and she felt so full, but needed so much more.

He pulled her dress down over her shoulders. With one hand, he caressed one heavy breast, then the other, alternating between pinching and rolling her hardened buds as he pounded into her body. The pleasure-pain sensation created waves of need she'd never experienced. Kevan wanted to touch him but was awash in sensations.

He'd taken away her choice, and she rejoiced in the comfort of that. Her body bent over the counter, coupled with Mason's firm grip on her hip and the other hand on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, sent her over into a shattering wave. The sounds she couldn't find earlier gathered strength and ripped from her throat as a scream. His name burst from her as her body exploded in pleasure, and stars sparked behind her closed eyelids. But he wasn't done with her and had moved his hand from her chest to her c.l.i.t and rubbed soft circles until one o.r.g.a.s.m collided and grew into another. And still he drove into her, in and out, holding her with one hand wrapped around her hip to keep her from crashing too hard into the counter.

His fingers continued to attack her hard, slippery c.l.i.t, sliding roughly back and forth. His c.o.c.k pushed and pulled at a frantic and brutal pace, his hand moving up to her hair, where he wrapped it around his fist. She teetered on the edge, waiting painfully for him to finish her off.

"Come for me again, darlin'," he barely choked out, his voice raw. He tugged her hair as his other hand dug into her hip. "Now."

The tremors in her body built again. He bit down on her shoulder in that one special spot, and she felt her body pulled under and tumbled like the one time she'd been hit by a huge wave in the ocean. She rolled and swirled, her body almost weightless, and heard him growl out her name in a roar.

Kevan collapsed forward, the counter holding her weight. She could feel her hair plastered against her face, her makeup half-rubbed away from their coupling. She didn't care. Not right now. She was fully sated. Exhausted. Fulfilled.

She felt herself turned and lifted. She reached her arms around his neck and pressed her head on his chest. He smelled so good-like Mason. Like a man. When had he removed the belt from her wrists? She wanted to burn this moment into her head, call upon it at a later date, when life was out of control or she needed to be soothed. Kevan felt anch.o.r.ed and grounded. That's what Mason did for her. That's what he made her feel. For once, her hamster-on-the-wheel brain was quiet, settled. Calm.

Such a contradiction this man was. Severe and gentle, brutal and affectionate. She relished the feel of his long fingers that were sure to leave marks on her hip. His marks. Marks signifying his own l.u.s.t and the desire he felt for her. Right now, only for her. G.o.d, she loved how she could make such a controlled man lose all order and melt with pa.s.sion for her.

Mason moved her to the bedroom, where he gently laid her down on the bed and rolled her to her stomach. He carefully unb.u.t.toned her vintage dress and peeled away the hot-pink crinoline underneath. He tugged off her mangled panties and bra and hung them over the dressing-table chair. The entire time, he brushed back her hair and smoothed his hand gently over her skin, whispering sweet, nonsensical endearments. Her skin so sensitive, each little brush of his fingers sent flickers of sensation down her body.

Mason moved away. The bathroom door squeaked from across the room, and the water in the sink began to run. He returned to the bed, gently cleaned her with a warm cloth, then tossed it in the corner.

He rolled her to her side and looked into her eyes, his angled face shadowed by the darkness.

"Darlin', I'm so sorry."

"For what, Mason? That was incredible. Look at me. I can hardly move." She smiled weakly. Relaxation morphed into exhaustion.

He cleared his throat. If it were any other man, Kevan would swear he was nervous about something. "I forgot the condom. I'm sorry. I have never done that. Ever."

"I haven't either." Her whisper echoed through the quiet room. When he started forward, preparing to say something, she held her fingers to his lips. "I'm on the pill. And I'm clean. I've never been with anyone like that." His eyes widened, and his teeth nipped at her fingertips.

"I haven't either." His three little words filled Kevan's heart with warmth.

"Never?"

"Never."

Pressing her stinging fingertips to her lips, she tried to hide her smile. Well, that was a little surprise. He'd shared himself like that only with her. Only her. Her heart soared, just a little. Maybe more than a little. He didn't need to know though.

"Look, it's okay. It was an accident," she said.

Mason took Kevan's chin in his hand and did what he always did, moved her face to look directly at his.

"Yes. It was, and I am sorry. I never forget protection. I'm apologizing for putting you at risk. Sorry for losing control. But that's what you do to me. And now that I know you're safe, I'm glad I forgot the condom. f.u.c.king incredible to feel you bare around me. You're f.u.c.king amazing." Mason slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her toward him as he lay down next to her, covering her body with his much-bigger one. His lips brushed her sensitive mouth, still stinging from his rough kisses earlier. His mouth barely connected with hers.

"Please don't break me," she pleaded against his lips, hating the shake in her voice and the tremble of her lips.

Mason pulled back to peer into her eyes, his expression serious. "Not sure either of us is getting out of this unbroken, darlin'."

Kevan nodded. She sure as h.e.l.l wasn't. In fact, she was already pretty sure she was in too deep and wasn't getting out without a broken heart.

When Mason moved to take her mouth again, he was all gentle kisses and soft caresses. The result was the same; it always was. He reduced her sa.s.sy self to a quivering ma.s.s of girl-goo screaming his name in o.r.g.a.s.m after o.r.g.a.s.m.

Chapter 17.

Kevan was getting cold feet. With last night's concert a major success, she began to doubt the wisdom of accepting Mason's dinner invitation. Was she becoming too comfortable with his companionship? The man was too d.a.m.n attractive and wickedly smart for her own good. Though she repeatedly tried to convince herself she wasn't looking for anything long-term right now, she still fantasized about a family of her own. Mason definitely wasn't a relationship, happily-ever-after kind of guy. He'd been honest about that from the beginning.

She was tired of pretending Mason was just a boring suit, when he was so much more. Yes, he was working for the same prize she was, but so far he'd played fair. In fact, he'd applauded her efforts and even supported some of her ideas. And yesterday, they had worked side by side, with each of their skills complimenting the other's rather than overshadowing each other's. They'd spent nearly the entire day working at the kitchenette table while the band took the day off to explore and play in San Francisco.

Hints of his kind, yet protective, nature had started to show through his polished veneer. She could take care of herself and had for years. But it was nice to have someone other than Bowen worrying about her. Even if he was the enemy, and his sharp intelligence might be the downfall of her life.

Sure, she'd said "maybe" to his first dinner invitation, not really taking him seriously. When he'd pushed again that morning, she'd figured "Why not?" They were in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, perched on a sparkling bay, filled with colorful music and interesting people.

Any apprehension she'd felt about going to dinner with Mason flew out the window when she stepped into the living area of the RV that evening. He looked up from his laptop, cute black-rimmed gla.s.ses perched on his nose, and his mouth dropped open. Apparently he liked her salmon-colored, vintage, sleeveless Dior dress.

"Jesus, woman, thought I had all your personas down, but this one...f.u.c.k me," he stuttered, obviously searching for the words as he dragged his tall, broad body to full height.

His enthusiasm emboldened her. "You like?" She spun slowly with her arms spread wide.

Mason shook his head. Her heart dropped. Had she misinterpreted his reaction? "Like? Not even close. You look f.u.c.king stunning. Like a modern Veronica Lake."

She felt the warm blush creep up her neck. How did he always know the right words to make her blood boil? He could've named any old starlet. But no, he'd picked the one she loved the most.

"We've been cooped up in this old RV all day. Let's go eat." He grinned, reminding her of a wolf eying his juicy lamb dinner.

Kevan looked around the high-end motor home. The granite countertops, stainless appliances, and plush suede sitting area were far nicer than anything in her little apartment. She rolled her eyes and wrapped her fingers around his thick arm and said, "Yes, let's get out of this dive. It's been horrible being stuck working in this hovel."

Mason grabbed her hand and led her to the car he'd had delivered for their mystery date. They sped off in the opposite direction from the touristy pier area. As they rode along the windy roads, Mason sat next to her, looking delicious as usual in a gray b.u.t.ton-down shirt and black slacks.

When they hit a hilly area that was less city and more residential, Kevan turned to him.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"Yes." And nothing.

"When?" She studied his stern profile, both amused and irritated by his stoicism.

"When what, darlin'?"

"Mason. When are you going to tell me where the heck we're going?" she huffed. The man was exasperating.

He smiled that d.a.m.n smug smile. "Soon."

"Soon what?"

"I'll tell you soon."

Kevan reached across the console and pinched his nipple through his pressed dress shirt.

"Ouch. Dammit, woman." His face colored red as he batted her hand away.

"Where. Are. We. Going?" She motioned like she was going in for a second pinch. He laughed, the sound wrapping around her like a soft blanket, and he raised his hand to block her fingers.

"The beach. I'm taking you to dinner at this little place right on the beach."

She was so excited, she clapped her hands. "I love the ocean."

The edges of his mouth curled up in that supers.e.xy way of his.

Kevan turned her head toward the window, watching as the buildings grew fewer, the clear, crisp lights of the houses became the backdrop to a pleasant drive. She didn't want him to see how he affected her. How a little play and some simple smiles filled her heart and lightened the burden she constantly carried.

f.u.c.kity, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k. He kept doing these thoughtful things for her. Kevan could finally fully acknowledge that she wasn't getting out of this thing unscathed. She wasn't walking away from this man, from the whole Manix Curse deal, with her heart intact. Best to focus on his body, not her heart.

For a moment, she allowed herself to get lost in the fantasy of begging him to stop the car. Then climbing on him in the driver's seat, hiking up her dress. His eyes would widen and fill with l.u.s.t when he pulled aside her already wet panties and saw her thighs wet with her desire. Maybe he would pull out that big c.o.c.k of his and drag her down on him. He'd pin her arms behind her and take her hard. As he came in her, he'd nip the spot on her neck-his spot-before she'd careen off the cliff after him.

Kevan shook her head, shivered, and pulled her wrap tighter to hide her hard nipples. Mason stayed silent, but his smile had a s.e.xy tilt. G.o.d, she really wanted to have s.e.x with him again. She was trying to remember why s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g Mason was such a horrible idea.

She was beginning to suspect this might be more than a casual dinner between colleagues. Panic fluttered in her chest when she looked up to find Mason glancing at her. Every time she looked at his face, she was struck by how easy it would be to get lost in those dark hazel eyes and his scruffy, dimpled smile. His rea.s.suring grin shouldn't soothe her worry, but it did. From the beginning, she'd known he was trouble and, yet, here she was again. Fantasizing about rough s.e.x in the car and making a conscious decision to let it all go for another night. She took a deep breath and smiled back.

She plugged her iPhone into the sound system, and the playlist shuffled to Everlast's acoustic "Sad Girl." Whitey Ford's deep voice filled the car with the sorrowful song of an abandoned ex-gang girl. For some reason, she related to the song. The sad, lonely, proud young woman.

She'd allowed herself to be sucked into the vortex of Mason's rugged charm and his seductive magnetism. And when he walked away with her business, and maybe even her heart, she'd be left again, crying her own tattoo tears.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Mason glance at her when the words about the angel, devil, stranger, rebel girl rolled from the speaker. Yeah, so what.