Push that s.h.i.t right on down, Mason.

Yeah. Later. Maybe he'd close his eyes for a minute. Relish the time with Kevan before he went home to fight his insomnia and put together his career-saving plan. He closed his eyes, listening to the slow, steady breathing and heartbeat of the delicious woman wrapped in his arms.

Chapter 4.

Long after she heard the quiet rumbling of snores emanating from the big man lying next to her, or more appropriately, wrapped around her, Kevan lay awake. An unexpected cloying darkness filled her heart as she realized the fences of her life prevented her from spending more time with Mason beyond this one night. She definitely didn't regret the best night of s.e.x with the hottest guy she'd ever met. But she marveled that it had taken under two hours for Mason to turn her from mission-oriented businesswoman to wanton s.e.x toy. That had to be some kind of record.

No matter how delicious he was, Kevan wasn't looking for casual, and her last attempt at serious had been a failure of epic proportions. Besides, there was no place in her life for a super bossy, boring business guy who would eventually lose interest in the novelty of banging the tattooed pinup chick. But Mason wasn't really boring, was he? Bossy, yes, but in a good way. Boring? Not so much.

Once she'd dreamed of a time when she wouldn't feel so lonely. For a little while, Bowen had held it together and been there for her. Not the same as sharing her life with someone, but still, it was good. And then his demons had taken over, and he couldn't take care of himself, let alone her. When she had met Ethan, the s.e.xy-in-a-nerdy-kind-of-way art history professor, she couldn't get enough of his wisdom and experience. Kevan had thought he might actually love her...until she met his fiancee. In the arena of love, she was definitely not a winner. From friends with benefits who didn't hold her interest to serious relationship contenders who cheated, no one lasted in her life.

It would probably be wise to label this what it was-the best one-night stand in the history of one-night stands-and then call it a night. Kevan stroked the surprisingly soft down of Mason's chest as it slowly rose and fell, and stared at his beautiful face. He was so peaceful and relaxed in sleep, unlike the intense expression he seemed to normally wear when awake. Soft, dark waves of hair fell across his strong forehead, brushing his straight, aristocratic nose and resting softly on his darkly stubbled cheek. It wasn't right for a man to be so effing hot.

Kevan stretched under the weighty leg thrown over her thigh and smiled at the gigantic hand palming her breast. The big, bad, handsome man was still in her bed. Better yet, his warm body was draped over hers. G.o.d, he felt good. Heavy? Yes. Geez, the man was huge, but delicious, like tomato-soup-on-a-cold-rainy-day good.

Careful not to wake the sleeping, G.o.dlike giant, Kevan shimmied out from under Mason to use the bathroom. On the way back to bed, she paused in the doorway as the low rumble of Mason's breath raising his broad chest caught her eye. With the sheet tangled around his waist, she had a chance to really appreciate the man in the low light shining through the parted curtain. From his wide, tan shoulders to his muscled chest, with the light dusting of hair, and his steel-like stomach to his trim waist and those erotic little dips at his hips-this man was almost perfection.

He seemed like the kind of guy who was all business. Up at dawn for a quick ten-mile run, then off to work, and in bed after midnight. Just another reason why this needed to be a one-night deal. He'd likely be gone by the morning anyway.

Should she wake him, kiss him gently, and send him on his way? She could put on her s.e.xy sashay and detached demeanor to save her dignity and push him out the door before he realized how intimidated by him she really was. Or even worse, before she grabbed on to his beefy arms and begged him to stay. No. She crawled into bed, back into his embrace. She should wake him up, but a few more minutes in his strong arms couldn't hurt, right?

The early morning light peeking around the drawn bedroom curtains and the faint twittering of birds drew Kevan from her deep sleep. It was barely dawn, but a large, warm hand stroked her breast, and someone's morning wood rubbed against her b.u.t.t. She reached her arms over her head in a languid, satisfying stretch and peered over her shoulder. Mason grinned wickedly.

"Morning, darlin'," he said, his drawl thicker than before. G.o.d, he was s.e.xy even in the morning. The man didn't even have morning breath.

He reached his free arm over her waist and petted her smooth mound. Parting her legs, she pulled one knee back over his thigh. To make access easier for him. It was only polite, right? His grunt of approval was all the confirmation she needed. He nipped her earlobe with his teeth, the sharp sting igniting the growing heat in her core.

"Good morning, pretty boy," she said, cringing at the squeak in her voice. She'd been going for sultry and ended up with mousy.

"Boy? Really? After everything I've done to you, with you? I'm a boy?" He reached behind to grab something off the side table. She heard the rip of foil and a.s.sumed it was a condom. Somehow he managed to get it on one-handed, because the other dragged through the pooling liquid between her legs. How could he be both dominating and considerate at the same time? How could he finger her and pull a rubber on simultaneously? Again, the man was gifted.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n, woman," his deep voice growled. "Ready for me, aren't you?"

She arched into his hand, desperate to get even closer, for him to be inside her, soothing the bottomless ache in her belly. How could she not be ready for him? With one arm cradling her head and the other heavy on her hip, he plunged into her from behind. All she felt was him, pushing into her, overwhelming her with his whispered naughty words and hard, commanding body. The sensuous undulation of his hips colliding with her backside drove away her worries and created a place where only they existed. The pleasure-pain of his fingers digging into her hip bone and his teeth on her neck shoved Kevan over into the abyss, with Mason following immediately after with the shout of her name bursting from his mouth.

It was going to be a really great morning. At least until it was time to say good-bye, because this feeling of contentment never lasted beyond the bedroom.

Hours later, her eyes burned. Blinking into the golden light saturating the room, Kevan knew immediately that she was alone in her bed.

He was gone.

Her stomach knotted with unexpected regret. She'd known it would be a one-time deal with Mason. But deep down, she'd hoped he might stick around. She pressed her fingers against her temples and ma.s.saged away a brewing headache. Then she pushed off the bed still clouded in a heady mix of their s.e.x and her perfume.

Kevan grabbed her favorite vintage silk robe she'd picked up for a couple dollars at an estate sale last summer and stepped over her discarded clothes to the bathroom. She took care of business, first brushing her teeth. The reflection in the mirror surprised her. Instead of the bride of Frankenstein she'd expected, the woman peering back looked dewy and fresh faced.

Dear G.o.d, that was not good. She scrubbed her face of any remnants of makeup from the night before and padded out of the small bathroom. A cold cloud expanded in her chest, reminding her of the bleak reality of her life and the presentation she needed to put together for her meeting with the band. Kevan's fantasy night of frivolity had come to an abrupt end, and real life was once again rearing its ugly head. Losing business, brother in rehab, rent due. Bleck.

Later that morning, after taking a shower and putting on her best retro power suit, Kevan sat down in front of her laptop to work on the graphics for her pitch. When she glanced at the clock on her computer, it confirmed that she was running out of time. Dammit. Her a.s.sistant, Tina, was late bringing the rest of her presentation from her office computer. She stood and paced her living room. Poor Tina had no idea that her meeting with Joe would mean the difference between employment and unemployment for her one full-time paid employee.

But Kevan's mind kept flashing bits and pieces from the night before. In the harsh reality of day, she understood how the darkness of night protected people from seeing the things they'd rather not see. At the club, she'd been too caught up in the heady mix of music, fear, and adrenaline to realize bringing Mason home might be a bad idea. A really bad idea. Besides, why was a guy like him hanging out at a dive club in suburban Portland?

She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave and drummed her fingers against the kitchen counter.

Where the f.u.c.k is Tina?

Her a.s.sistant was a bit flaky on a good day, but she was getting worse, more and more undependable. Time to have a heart-to-heart with her about her behavior. Of course, if she didn't sign Manix Curse today or the meeting didn't go well, the talk they'd likely have would be about unemployment.

Insistent knocking at the front door forced Kevan from her trance. Oh s.h.i.t, what if he came back? What will I say? She froze, staring at the closed door before realizing her a.s.sistant was finally making an appearance.

"Open up." Tina's shrill voice cut through the wooden barrier and grated on Kevan's frayed nerves.

Both disappointed and relieved, she pulled the door open, and Tina swept into the room, holding two paper coffee cups. Sunlight glinted off her sequined top, and her ever-present stilettos clicked on the tiled entry. As usual, she was dressed like a tiny drag queen.

"Seriously, it's b.u.t.t-a.s.s cold out there. What took you so long to answer? I know it's not because you have a man in here." Tina sneered, then laughed.

"Where have you been?" Kevan shut the door and walked into the kitchen. "Did you bring the presentation?"

"Yes, princess, I downloaded the presentation from your computer and brought the thumb drive." Tina's scrutiny shifted to the piece of clothing on the lampshade and then swung to her dress still in the hallway. "What happened?"

"Is that coffee for me? I need this so badly." Kevan held out her hand, ignoring the pang in her chest. When had her pseudofriend gotten so antagonistic toward her?

Tina handed her the coffee with an exaggerated sigh, then plopped down on the couch like she owned the place. "Start from the top, and don't leave anything out."

"There's nothing to explain. Except where the h.e.l.l have you been?" Kevan's patience with Tina's snark had about run its course. Since Kevan had hired her, their tenuous relationship had begun to fray immediately under the burden of the boss-employee dynamic. Obviously, she'd been too wrapped up in her new business and her brother's spiral to see the growing resentment right in front of her.

"I'm not your lapdog," Tina mumbled, took a sip of her coffee, and locked eyes with Kevan. One pencil-thin eyebrow lifted. "Is that your underwear posing as a lampshade?"

Kevan s.n.a.t.c.hed the sweater and threw it down the hallway. "No. It's the shrug from my purple dress. I meant to toss it on the couch when I got home last night. Guess I missed."

"Wow, your lying is as bad as your aim." She snorted. "And your aim's as bad as Bobby's."

Looking down at her hands, Kevan felt the burn in her cheeks. "Really? You're bringing up that a.s.shat now?"

Tina just loved bringing up Bobby Calvin, like a bullhorn in Kevan's face, reminding her of that mess from high school. Tina had been the one person who hadn't turned her back on Kevan when Bobby, the school's quarterback, had used her and dumped her. They had forged a long-lasting, but awkward friendship as two misfits in a town of cookie-cutter cheerleaders and preppies.

"Hey, I'm trying to lighten the mood. That douche can't hurt you now." She smiled a toothy grin. "I'm your friend. You can tell me what has your knickers in a twist-or on the lamp."

Trusting Tina had never come easy, and it was becoming more difficult, but Kevan didn't have anyone else.

"What do you know about any of the bigger Portland entertainment marketing companies?" she asked.

Tina looked down her nose at Kevan. "Just what you do. There's GEM, of course, and those two dorks from Los Angeles-Argyle Artist a.s.sociates, or something. That's about it." She leaned back, closing her eyes. "Dude, have you ever seen the guy who runs GEM? He is so freaking hot. Like burn-your-eyeb.a.l.l.s-just-looking-at-him hot. Like hump-his-leg-like-a-h.o.r.n.y-little-puppy hot."

Warmth crept over Kevan's cheeks, and she faced the window. As usual, Tina was missing the bigger picture. The one where companies like Global Entertainment Marketing and Argyle were the evil overlords of the entertainment marketing world, aimed at crushing her entrepreneurial dreams. "No, I've never seen him. You realize he's the compet.i.tion, right? His company's ginormous and could flatten us for fun."

Tina snorted and rolled her eyes. "Why would they give a s.h.i.t about our d.i.n.ky little agency?"

Kevan took a long sip of her coffee, letting the heat warm her from the inside. "Someone big is supposedly pitching to Manix. Do GEM or the L.A. guys even sign indie bands or heavy metal acts?"

Shrugging her slim shoulders, Tina seemed far more interested in chewing the tattered end of a nail.

Kevan blew out a long breath, lifting her bangs off her forehead. "I think GEM might be interested in Manix."

Tina stopped chewing on her nail and gaped up at her. "That doesn't make any sense. They only go after established stars."

Exactly what Kevan had been thinking.

"I know. But somebody is courting Manix. Has to be GEM. And we're f.u.c.ked if they get serious about it."

Kevan watched her a.s.sistant's face instantly transform. Her eyes changed from unfocused to razor sharp, and her slack jaw tightened. This cunning version of Tina scared Kevan and forced her to keep her boundaries firmly in place.

h.e.l.l, she'd only agreed to hire her on Tina's promises of vast connections in the music industry through a cousin Kevan had never met. Turned out her cousin was a professional groupie, and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g a bunch of local musicians and roadies wasn't exactly considered business networking. By the time Kevan figured it out, Tina had proven to be a cheap and semicompetent office manager. She also had the occasional deviously brilliant idea, which Kevan was counting on right about now.

"How do you know this?" Tina asked.

Kevan rolled her eyes. "You're missing the point."

"Then indulge me. What is the point?"

"The point is that a huge megacorporation, or some slick, experienced yahoos, have our band in their sights. They may just end my company before it even gets started." Kevan stood and paced the room. Catching sight of her wadded dress in the hall, she pushed all thoughts of one big, s.e.xy man out of her head. She had to focus.

"Again, how do you know this?"

"Joe told me last night at the club that another company had approached them."

"Doesn't mean anything." Tina waved her hand, dismissing Kevan's wariness. "Could be anybody. And he could be trying to get us to up our game."

"Maybe." It had occurred to Kevan that Joe was bluffing.

"I wouldn't worry about it." Tina's shrewd eyes narrowed, and her pink-slashed lips twisted into a smirk as she looked around the room. "You're never this paranoid about landing a client, especially when you've mind-f.u.c.ked half the band."

"That's not true, Tina," Kevan said. "And way out of line."

"Something has you twerking and twitching." Tina stood and clacked her way from the living room, down the hall and back. A know-it-all, s.h.i.tty grin plastered on her face, she said, "You got lucky last night, didn't you?"

"No," Kevan said, dragging out the O sound. Nothing even slightly tainted with the possibility of gossip ever got past Tina.

"You're so full of it. Who was it? Do I know him?" She smiled. "How did your clothes end up all over your apartment?"

Oh sure. As if she'd share anything personal with Tina the Tiny Talker. "It's none of your business. Focus. Someone big is going after Manix, and we need to figure out who."

Tina's expression of excitement evaporated and was quickly replaced with a tight grin. "Why would they care about some midmarket metal band?"

"How the h.e.l.l do I know?" she snapped, regretting asking Tina anything about the compet.i.tion.

"Both GEM and Argyle do big names, acts that sell out arenas. We do local and small-time. Companies like GEM are the lobster to our peanut b.u.t.ter sandwich. Even Argyle is champagne, and we're day-old canned beer. We're ghetto, and they're-"

"Okay, okay. I get it. They're awesome, and we suck."

The room spun a little. Was it true? Maybe she really didn't have a chance at signing the band. Maybe Manix Curse would jump at the opportunity to work with someone sporting more impressive credentials.

Pushing down her doubt, she looked Tina in the eye. "I don't have a choice. If I don't do something, we lose our lease, the company, and my brother will never get clean."

"That's not what I meant. They're both big-time. Maybe we could partner with them instead of fighting over the same sorry-a.s.s bone."

"Are you on f.u.c.king crack? Both those companies would chew us up and spit us out. They don't want to be our buddies. GEM never collaborates with small agencies; they obliterate them. And the Argyle guys are such pompous a.s.ses, I'd never want to work within fifty feet of them. We need to do this on our own."

Tina looked away. "You mean you need to do this on your own. Your business. Your band. Your brother."

"Not true." Kevan could hear the frustration edging into her voice and tried to cut it back. The stress of Mason bailing and now Tina's obstinacy was wearing on her last nerve. "It's for all of us." It was true. If she couldn't sign the band, she couldn't keep her b.i.t.c.hy a.s.sistant on. She let out a huff. Maybe that wouldn't be the end of the world.

Tina stood and walked to the small kitchen, tossing the thumb drive on the counter. "Whatever you say, boss. But we both know you'll always have a job at Tony's shop." She turned and looked Kevan up and down, hand on her hip. "At least you look ready to do battle."

Although Tina's compliment seemed to lack sincerity, Kevan said, "Thanks. Hopefully, I'll get this straightened out, sign the band, and we can get to work on a kick-a.s.s promotional plan."

"Sure. So what is the plan?"

Tina had dropped the subject of Kevan's possible hook-up. Relieved, Kevan recounted the brief discussion with Joe the previous night and shared her pitch for later that afternoon.

Kevan walked to the door, then swung it wide. "I'm going to put it all out there and give it my best shot." She leaned in to embrace Tina, who stood there placidly. Her frosty demeanor sent icy spikes of uneasiness through Kevan's chest. d.a.m.n, her friend ran hot and cold. With a quick squeeze and pat on Tina's back, Kevan pulled away.

Well, that was awkward.

Once she figured out this mess with her brother, she'd do some serious housecleaning-and not just the mess strewn about her apartment, but the people in her life. And maybe that would happen sooner than later.

After Tina left, Kevan plugged the memory drive into her laptop and scanned the presentations she'd spent the last week putting together for Demon Hill and Manix Curse. She clicked through the slides, faster and faster, and realized several of her graphs and bulleted data were missing. What the h.e.l.l's happened to the slides I worked my a.s.s off to perfect? Obviously, Tina had copied the wrong file.

Kevan checked the computer clock one last time. She had ten minutes before she had to leave to meet Joe at his downtown office. Maybe she could still catch Tina, have her get the right file, and bring it. She dialed her number, but the call went straight to Tina's voice mail.

What the h.e.l.l? She left five minutes ago.

Leaving a short message, she jabbed the "end call" b.u.t.ton and packed up her laptop. She was out of time. She'd have to improvise.