Beautiful Crazy Part 13

Mason settled back in his seat, letting the satisfaction and excitement blanket him. This was going to be an awesome night.

The smell of vanilla and honey hit his brain, and his head lifted instinctively toward Kevan, where she stood in a checkered top tied snug below her round b.r.e.a.s.t.s and jeans rolled to her ankles, her very s.e.xy, tattooed ankles. Her dark hair spilled in waves over her shoulder and was pinned on one side with a huge velvet rose. Mason's mouth went dry, and his heart beat faster than a hummingbird on speed.

A very awesome night.

"Mr. Dillon? Are you there?" A voice crackled over the speakerphone, snapping him out of his trance.

"Yes. Tell Dan I'll be there in a few minutes."

"I'll do that," the secretary said.

He ended the call and fixed Kevan with a stare. "You look fantastic."

She frowned. Not the reaction he expected.

"Who was that?" she asked, setting her jaw and squaring her shoulders in her cla.s.sic fighting stance.

"My surprise. Dan Carver's secretary. Dan is the event director for High Energy Bottling."

"The guy you said might be interested in sponsoring the band?" Her face looked even paler than usual.

"He's an old buddy of mine and interested in adding Manix to the h.e.l.lfire tour next year," he said, trying to make his words sound casual.

"Wow, cowboy, that's serious firepower. Some of the biggest bands are featured at h.e.l.lfire. Marco and Conner go every year. Honestly, I'm shocked you even know h.e.l.lfire exists."

Ignoring her dig, he grinned. "My company pursues fiscally viable commercial talent as a business model, but I personally enjoy a lot of different music genres. I've gone to the h.e.l.lfire festival several times and personally sponsored one of the VIP tents."

Her face sank a little more. "Gotta hand it to you-you're good. Really freaking good."

"I know." Mason instantly regretted sounding smug. Her uneven smile and dropped shoulders made him suddenly want to wrap his arms around her and tell it would be okay.

Unsure why he felt like comforting his compet.i.tion, Mason ran a hand through his hair. This rivalry was starting to f.u.c.k with his head. The wrong head.

Instead of responding with her usual sarcastic remark, she gave him a determined nod. "Okay. Shall we go?" He could hear the defeat in her voice as she grabbed her clutch, and he followed her down the steps of the RV with his hand on the small of her back. The need to touch her was too powerful to ignore. They walked out to the parking lot in silence, touching, but miles away from each other. When they reached the side entrance, Mason dropped his hand. The always impeccable Dan stood waiting for Mason.

"Thanks for coming out." Mason grinned and shook hands with his old friend.

When Mason introduced Kevan, Dan smiled and made an obvious effort not to stare at her. Even a guy still in love with his college sweetheart couldn't ignore Kevan's dark beauty and curves.

Kevan excused herself on the pretext of checking in with the armory's management. She rushed off in the opposite direction, her tall heels clicking on the cement.

"Holy s.h.i.t, that woman's hot." Dan grinned. "I wanna live vicariously through you. Please tell an old married man like me she's yours."

Mason smiled. Do I wish she's mine?

"You know me. I don't do serious." His words sounded hollow, even to his ears, as he leaned against the old cement-brick building.

The shorter man reached over and socked him on the arm. "Good ole Mason never changes, right? Still stupid and single?"

"I guess." For the second time that night, Mason tried to tamp down the warmth creeping up his neck. He suddenly felt somber and not so confident in his answer. "How's Julie? And the kids? How old are they now?"

Dan laughed. "They're great. I'm the luckiest man in the world. But we're talking about you. I can tell that woman is under your skin."

"She's not." Was she?

"Then why are you blushing?" Dan smirked.

"The f.u.c.k I am," Mason spit out, shifting uncomfortably to avoid Dan's direct stare.

"You're so full of s.h.i.t your eyes are turning brown. I saw the way you followed her when she walked away. And I saw how she looked at you before she left."

Mason pushed off the wall to face his friend. "How?"

"That got your attention." He snorted. "Drop the c.r.a.p. Who is she?"

Explaining the compet.i.tion to Dan might tip the scales in his favor. Mason couldn't risk telling him too much. Instead, he shared the basics-they were both interested in signing Manix Curse, and his company was taking a more hands-on approach to expand their talent pool. It was the truth. Kind of.

"So you're not s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g her?" Dan asked. Never one to beat around the bush.

He looked around as the parking lot began to fill with cars and fans lined up outside the venue. "I didn't say that."

"So you are?"

"No." Mason looked down and kicked a stone with his boot. "But I did. It was supposed to be a one-night stand. I left without saying anything when I figured out we're both competing for the same band's PR business. s.h.i.t went downhill from there."

"Total d.i.c.k move, dude. But you like her?" Before the automatic "no" could roll from his tongue, Dan held up his hand.

"What? Are we in high school?"

"Don't bother trying to distract me. Do you like her, Mason?"

Did he? Yes, probably. Maybe more than he had any right to. He nodded. "I do."

Dan grinned and smacked Mason on the shoulder. "She doesn't look like she'll go down without a fight. You're totally screwed."

"What the h.e.l.l? You said she was eyeballing me."

Dan quirked his eyebrows. "She was, but she seems a little fierce."

Mason smiled. True that. His girl was a bada.s.s. "She is."

Dan gave him a sympathetic look. "Welcome to the club, brother."

"What club?" Mason asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"The one where you can't think about anything but the woman. All your hard work and drive becomes laser-focused on her. And you won't stop until you convince her she belongs to you." Dan turned and put his hand on the door handle.

"Whoa. I don't think it's that serious-"

"Of course you don't, but you will." Dan pulled the door open, and a sea of sound crashed over them. "Now, let's go see your band."

Numbly, Mason led him into the club and tried to forget Dan's words. Tonight he needed to sell Manix, not get fl.u.s.tered by Kevan.

Hours later, long after the Medford show, when Kevan was tucked into her bunk and the RV hummed down the freeway, Mason sat at the table and checked his email one last time before he headed off to bed. He clicked on a new message from Dan.

Hey Mason, It was great meeting up with you tonight. It's been too long. Thank you for inviting me to see Manix Curse. After watching their show and meeting with their manager, I feel pretty comfortable telling you they'd be a perfect fit for the h.e.l.lfire Heavy Metal Masters Tour. I'll need to coordinate with our booking committee, as well as my boss, to confirm their inclusion on the schedule, but I would like to informally offer your band a spot on next year's fall tour.

Once I have the proper approvals in place, I'll have the contracts sent to you to present to the band's management.

I'm looking forward to working with you again. I'm also very excited about working with Manix Curse. They're an awesome band with a wicked blast beat.

On a personal note, I wanted to remind you to get a life. And by life, I mean quit being an idiot and go after Kevan. Before she wises up and finds someone else.

Give your girl a kiss for me and give me a call.

Dan Some good f.u.c.king news to end a good f.u.c.king night. Mason wasn't sure what to make of the dig about Kevan, but his meetings with Dan and then with Joe had gone off without a hitch. The whole night vibrated with the energetic pulse of making the deal. Mason felt young and full of fire again. He'd remembered instantly where his pa.s.sion-the same zeal Kevan breathed into everything-for entertainment marketing had come from. He loved this business.

Luckily, Dan had been able to secure flights in and out of town. And even more luck, the band had killed it. They were perfect, and with all Kevan's work online to pack the venue, Manix was staged exactly how he'd wanted them. Dan had been obviously impressed enough to quickly put together a deal for the band to join the h.e.l.lfire tour.

The tour package was the surefire way to seal Manix's business. A high-caliber booking like h.e.l.lfire could launch the career of any band with the right sound and marketing support. Manix Curse would go from local band to opening act to headliner in under a year. More important, this kind of publicity and exposure could secure them a solid recording contract with a big label.

Before he proposed the idea to the band, he'd have to put together a plan that secured their contract for GEM and ensure he didn't hurt Kevan's business. He wanted to walk away with the contract in his pocket and Kevan Landry in his bed. At least for a little while.

Thinking of Kevan was like dumping a cold pail of water over his head. Yes, this was excellent news for him and phenomenal news for Manix Curse. But definitely not good news for her and Jolt Marketing. Not at all.

Chapter 13.

Mason was knee-deep in emails and his strategic plan when a cry sounded over the dull hum of the RV's engine, startling him. Was that Kevan crying? He pulled his tired body from the table and stood outside her bunk, listening. The dark burgundy curtain swayed gently with the rocking of the RV, but no more sounds came from her bed. Just as he was about to give up and chalk the noise up to the late hour and his ping-ponging thoughts, he heard a low sniffle and groan. A sad sound from a normally upbeat and energetic woman.

"Kevan?" he called quietly, not wanting to wake her up if she was sleeping. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Go away. Just a bad dream."

Bulls.h.i.t. He pulled the curtain back. "Hey!" she squealed, scrambling to cover her exposed legs. "Get out of here."

"I heard you crying. What's wrong?" He could barely make out her reddened eyes in the shadows of the darkened bunk.

Instead of looking away, she squinted her eyes and squared her chin. "I wasn't crying. I was sleeping. I had a bad dream. And, no, I don't want to talk about it."

"Why are you so f.u.c.king stubborn?" he growled. Why wouldn't she let him help her?

"Why are you so d.a.m.n bossy?"

They stared at each other in the darkened RV for what seemed like hours but was only moments.

Enough of this c.r.a.p.

He reached one arm beneath her knees and the other under her arms and scooped her up. The startled look on her face was almost worth the payment he knew she'd render from his hide later.

"Put...what...stop..." she sputtered as he clutched her against his chest and marched to the bedroom. His heart thumped in his chest, beating double time, perfectly in synch with hers.

Settling her on the bed, he gathered her wrists in one hand and looked her in the eye. "Stop," he said simply.

She quit squirming but didn't break eye contact. Her scowl dug deep lines bisecting her brows.

"I still don't trust you."

"I know," he said as he caressed her wrist with his thumb. Her quickening pulse told him a different tale.

Leaning down, he kept eye contact and brushed his lips across hers, skin just touching, but the ever-present spark arcing between them. Her quick intake of breath and the arch of her back signaled her interest.

"Let me comfort you. Let's pretend-just for tonight-that none of the other stuff matters and there's only us."

"It's not that simple, Mason." The sadness in her sweet smile wrapped around his chest and squeezed just a little too hard on the bindings he kept tightly around his emotions.

"Tonight, it can be," he whispered, his voice scratchy and rough with need. He leaned down again to kiss her in that special spot but rubbed the bridge of his nose along the long, elegant line of her neck instead. "G.o.d, you smell so good."

"We don't get to make the rules. They're already set, and we have to play by them."

He smiled and slid his tongue along the delicate sh.e.l.l of her ear. "What does that even mean?"

Her body shuddered. "I. Don't. Know." Each word was delivered on a gasp as he continued exploring her with his mouth.

She shivered, and her skin pebbled under his hand as he began to stroke up her arm. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her body was magnificent, made just for him. A gift to be unwrapped and discovered over time. Too bad she wouldn't let him take the time. The thought momentarily jarred him from the erotic task at hand. Did he want more time with her? No, impossible.

Ridiculous even. Take what she's offering now and move on.

When he finally reached her mouth, Kevan's hands were weaving though his hair and tugging at his T-shirt, frantic to get his clothes off. Her heavy breathing and gla.s.sy eyes lit him from the inside and spurred him to match her pace. Had it been only days since he'd touched her, felt her satiny skin beneath his fingers? Having her so close and so untouchable had messed with his head. He had to slow down now that he had her beneath him again. He wanted to savor her body, but she seemed to have other plans.

He took her mouth, demanding control back before he came in his pants and completely ruined the moment. Tugging her against his body with one arm under her, he cradled her head with his other. He swallowed her moan and pushed back on his knees.

The look in Kevan's eyes dimmed with confusion until he dug the condom out of his wallet and tossed it onto the bed. As he pulled his shirt off with one hand, she grabbed at his belt and began to undo his pants. The wicked grin from their first night together spread across her beautiful face as she pulled his belt free and tossed it aside. Mason moved over her and yanked on her nightshirt.

"Off," he demanded. "Now."

She pulled her nightshirt off and lay on the bed in her Wonder Woman panties and her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s on display, hard nipples begging for his mouth. A wanton G.o.ddess just waiting for him to ravage her. He smiled down at her as he stepped out of his jeans and underwear.

"Holy s.h.i.t. I forgot about that body," she said. Giggling, she reached a hand toward him.

"Holy s.h.i.t. I couldn't forget about yours."