Rock Me Two Times
The Band, Book 1
Sourcebooks Casablanca (November 3, 2015)
ISBN-13: 9781492616764 ♦ ISBN-10: 1492616761
First in Dawn Ryder’s sizzling new Rock Band series.
Rock star Syon Braden writes and plays the most extreme-and profitable-music from the depths of his shredded heart. He’s got a double platinum record, adoring fans, and success for his band Toxsin—but it’s what he can’t have that he craves. Custom leather designer Kate Napier has her sights set on success, and that means keeping irresistible rock stars like Syon out of her bed. The chance to tour with the band and provide them with a fantastic custom wardrobe is too major an opportunity to turn down. But immersion in the dark, wild world of Toxsin on tour means Kate’s about to get rocked…hard…body and soul.
Connected Books: The Band
Read an Excerpt
She looked over her shoulder before turning. He was looking at his reflection in the full-length mirrors the suite was furnished with, stretching up and arching his back while watching just how low the waistband dipped on his tight abdomen.
“Hopefully that will do the trick,” she offered. “There is only so much I can do with an existing garment. Leather doesn’t stretch, so I opened up the crouch and put in a gusset. It’s a pretty close color match. Someone would have to be right between your thighs to notice it.”
“Fans in the pit pick up on every detail.”
He was being serious. Dead, hard serious.
Kate stared at the glimpse of the businessman inside the rock star. Toxsin had come out of nowhere just three years ago and was now on the top of the charts. Rumors varied on the band’s origins, and she had the feeling that she was getting a glimpse at a very personal side of Syon Braden, the man under the Marquis. He caught her watching him, their gazes meeting in the polished surface of the mirror. For a moment, she felt a pull toward him so strong it threatened to overwhelm everything else.
Like common sense, or professionalism.
Or the very blunt reality of knowing she was going to end up like a used condom if she didn’t get her sex drive under control.
“Stay for the show—there’s a private box up here with all the amenities,” Syon told her. “If your work fails, you’ll have a good view.”
“My work doesn’t fail,” she said. “And those aren’t my work. If they were, they’d fit.”
“You’re passionate,” he said softly.
“Perfectionist,” she corrected. “Leather is a…personal experience for me.”
He turned around and cupped her cheek before she realized he was in motion. The connection sent a shiver down her spine that traveled all the way to her toes. He leaned down, hovering over her ear. “Passionate,” he bit out, slipping his hand back to cup her nape with a grip that twisted her clit.
“I dare you to be here when I’m finished, Kate.”
She was a sucker for a dare. Her head was spinning from the mix of pheromones and raw sexual allure bleeding off him, and the words were just out of her mouth before she engaged her brain.
At least the higher functioning parts of it. Animal instinct was working just fine.
He lowered his gaze, targeting her mouth before leaning forward and pressing a kiss against her neck. His grip on her nape was solid, his body hard as stone, but his lips closed over her skin with just enough aggression to throw more fuel on the flames licking her clit. He teased her, stroking and tasting her before licking his way to her collarbone with a delicious stroke that left her knees weak.
The lights in the suite began to flash. He pulled away, leaving her leaning on the wall.
There was a hint of violence in his expression. His eyes narrowed as he pulled away from her, reluctance flickering in his gaze.
She was gasping, so turned-on she was in a daze. She needed to run.
Because he was way out of her depth .
* * * * *
The Staples Center was roaring.
It sounded like a tsunami coming in, or a freight train passing three feet in front of her face. It was more than sound; there was a vibration that traveled through her body, all the way down to her bones. There was a current in the air that practically crackled with excitement.
The bodyguard-slash-security guy showed Kate up to a private box. She followed because she didn’t want to squeal like a little girl and ask to be taken home.
She’d never lost her head like this before.
It was embarrassing on an epic scale. She was pissed at herself for rolling over so easily for a man who wouldn’t recall her name by the end of the night.
The box had plush seats and an open rail overlooking the stage. The lights went down, and the drummer started up. The beat was infectious, taking over her heart until she was sure the muscle was keeping the same rhythm.
The crowd roared again, thrusting their hands up into the air as two guitars joined the drummer. Her nipples puckered again, her memory offering up an image of Syon arching back as he played those final chords. It was like he was pushing the music out of himself, almost as if he were giving birth.
On stage, he was just as raw.
Syon took command of the space completely. The audience ate him up.
And were they screaming. Syon worked them just as skillfully as he did his guitar. He really was lord of all he surveyed. Kate discovered herself leaning forward, being drawn toward the spellbinding energy pulsing on the stage. Sitting still was impossible; her body wanted to move in time with the notes Syon was wringing out of his instrument. She became fixated on his hands; the way he worked his fingers was downright dominant.
Her teeth were clenched by the time the last song finished, she was panting softly and felt wrung out.
But it was fucking wonderful. She was drifting on a high and collapsed back into her padded chair, her composure scattered around her like fall leaves. She felt spent but amped up at the same time.
Fangirls were definitely climbing the respect ladder in her book.
Okay, so she was drooling over a rock star like some high schooler, but at least B.O.B.—her battery-operated boyfriend —was waiting for her at home. All in all, the buzz was worth the slightly stinging blow to her pride, because in some corner of her mind, she believed she should be grown-up enough to realize fantasies weren’t mature. So disappointment wouldn’t stalk her in the wee hours of the night.
A hollow feeling in her gut warned her she was hoping in vain.
As Syon and the rest of the band left the stage, Kate indulged herself in a long moment of reflection. Syon had worked that guitar until it wailed. He had to be hell in bed if he applied even half that effort to pleasing his partner.
“So, what’d you think?”
She jumped, grabbing the armrests of the movie theater-style chair. Her eyes popped open wide, and her belly did a triple flip when she found Syon watching her.
“Ah…” Her tongue suddenly felt like a wad of cotton in her mouth as she scrambled to stand up and turn around to face him. “It was fantastic…”
He grinned at her, a huge, arrogantly pleased expression that showed off his perfect teeth.
God, she wondered if he knew how to bite…