Sex, Wolves & Rock 'n Roll Page 3

  Reese Payne—what the fuck kind of name is that anyway? Some jumped up pretentious name the little twat probably thought cool. Too young, too loud, too…everything. With his long hair, leathers and silver jewelry he was like a mini-Sav, but instead of Sav’s dark eyes, his were pale silver…and they looked wrong. He was wrong.

  K glowered and kicked the FX pedal, the list of tracks Aaron wanted to go through taped to the amp in front of him. He didn’t want to be there. Aaron gave the signal for the first song and he didn’t have time to think. Closing his eyes, K hit the strings, moving into the guitar solo that opened the track. Four bars in, Temp joined him on the bass, then it would be Sav—no, Payne—on the drums. K tensed, waiting for the first beat. How would the kid play?

  The answer…the same as Sav.

  Payne picked up the groove without effort, giving the rest of the band the framework they needed. Song by song, K relaxed, slipping into the familiar music and letting the tension leave his body. If he kept his eyes front and center he could almost believe Sav sat behind him, the same reassuring presence that had been there for all those years.

  K let go, giving everything up to the music. His fingers caressed the strings, foot on the FX, playing the same as he did on stage: balls to the wall, all out. There was no other way. The tracks grew steadily more complex, but the drum-beat never faltered, a constant stream of rapid-fire beats on the bass-drum creating the base line for the Hounds distinctive sound.

  With the lights down and the music all around him, K lost track of time and location. Flicking his hair back over his shoulder, he raced into one of the trickier guitar solos the Hounds did. The setup was brutal, so complex there weren’t many guitarists in the world who could handle it, and none that were human. Only he, Aaron, and perhaps the lead guitarist from that new British vamp rock band who’d been rocking the charts in the last few weeks.

  His hands flew over the strings, foot busy with the pedal as he used everything he had to bring the solo to life. His heart rate quickened near the end. Just a few more seconds before the crossover between his section and Sav’s. For a few bars, they played together, blending from one section to the next seamlessly.

  Leaning back, he hit the last note and held it, waiting for the drum fill. The bass crashed in, snares following. K gasped, and hit a mess of chords. It was wrong. All wrong. The fill different than the one Sav played…very different.

  Anger sliced through him, cutting through his heart to dump pain into his soul. He stopped playing, cut the feed from his guitar and yanked the strap from around his neck.

  “K? What’s up?”

  Aaron hovered in concern. K’s guitar crashed into the stand, eliciting a wince from both his siblings. For him to abuse his kit like that…it wasn’t K.

  “This. This!” he snapped, spreading his arms to include them all then glared at Payne. “We can’t gloss over this. It’s not gonna work.”

  “C’mon man, you gott—”

  K cut his brother off, getting in Aaron’s face in a way he never did. Aaron had always been the more forceful twin, the leader. But K was done being told what to do.

  “No,” he snarled, letting his beast out to show in his eyes. “I don’t gotta do anything.”

  He shoulder-barged him out of the way and stalked from the room to the dressing room. He couldn’t do it. If they didn’t have Sav, then they didn’t have a group. No way could they replace something so fundamental as a drummer.

  “Fuck!”

  He slammed his fist into the wall beside the door. Something in his hand cracked along with the plaster, the pain a welcome relief to the agony eating away at him. He leaned his head against the wall and ignored the wetness tracking down his face. Crap, look at me. Blubbering in the dressing room. Could he get into any worse of a damn mess?

  “Hey…. You okay, bro?”

  The sound of a tentative male voice broke through his despair. Payne. The corner of K’s lip lifted, the snarl rumbling from the depths of his soul. “Piss off. I ain’t your bro.”

  “Course not, man. It’s just an expression.”

  The door closed and the kid hovered behind him. Kid. Huh, the guy was near K’s height. And he needed to get lost, fast. Leave him alone before he lost it. At the feel of a hand on his arm, he whipped around, grabbed the younger guy and slammed him so hard into the mirror opposite the door, it cracked. Jamming his arm into Payne’s throat, he held the kid still with ease, the strength of his wolf running through his veins.

  “What part of fuck off don’t you understand?” he asked, voice low and calm. K at his most dangerous. Unlike Tempest, the twins’ anger was deceptive, calmer when they were pissed as all hell.

  Payne’s eyes widened and he pulled at K’s arm, bending backward with all the hard muscle and leather pressed up close and personal. But K didn’t feel anything, not one stirring in the crotch area. Because he’s not Sav….

  “In case you didn’t get it, let me make it clear.” K narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like you. You’re not Sav…you don’t play right, and all this….” He indicated Payne’s outfit with distaste. “Dressing up like him doesn’t make you him, it just means you’re pathetic. Now get away from me.”

  He shoved him off, backed up, and scraped a hand through his hair as he tried to get it together. Payne didn’t move, instead remained leaning against the mirror. His strange, silver gaze held K’s without blinking.

  “I know I’m not Trent,” he said in low tones, all traces of the rough rocker gone from his voice and a surprisingly cultured accent emerging. “I’m not trying to be. Honestly, I wish he was still here because he’s seriously a genius on the skins. But, for whatever reason, he left. And I’m not about to pass up a chance to play with you guys.”

  The logic knocked out the anger rolling through K and he focused on what the kid said.

  “Just give me a chance to play. With you.” Payne straightened, leaving a smear of blood on the broken glass. K’s nostrils twitched. Shame hit him, and then respect. He’d hurt the guy and not once had he complained, or wolfed out even a little, even though K could scent his wolf under the human guise.

  “I want to learn. Your duet work with Sav….” He shook his head. “It’s amazing. You can’t blame a guy for wanting a piece of the action. Even if it’s just temporary. Hearing you play…it’s like a drug. If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to stay away. I couldn’t not play with you. Believe me, he’ll be back. And if not….”

  “If not, what?” Anger rose again. If Payne so much as suggested he’d replace Sav, then K would deck him then and there.

  He shrugged. “It might be nothing, but I heard Aaron talking to his wife. Something about Sav asking for the details for some one-night stand service? I dunno…you might be able to book the same thing or something.”

  ***

  Sav liked to drive. A good thing really, since he’d been behind the wheel for almost two days straight to get to his date. A lot of mileage to rack up for a night of hopefully hot sex or, if he got lucky, the beginning of a relationship that could heal his shattered heart.

  Three weeks, two days, and fourteen hours. That’s how long it had been since he’d seen—he cut the thought off. No sense going down that route, not after he’d spent the last three weeks reinventing himself.

  When he’d walked out on the band, he hadn’t had a clue what to do. Two phone calls later, he’d canceled the lease on his apartment and arranged to have everything packed to go into storage. Filling a backpack, he’d driven to the nearest car dealer to sell his car for cash. Got less than its value but he didn’t care, he was done with that life.

  Mindful of keeping his head down, he hadn’t bought anything from the dealer he’d sold the sports car to. Instead, he’d picked up a battered secondhand truck he wouldn’t have given a second glance to before. Throwing his bag into the back, he’d turned left out of the car lot and kept driving.

  He’d ended up at the coast and the sight of the ocean spreading out in front
of him—vast and endless—soothed something in his battered soul. With his long hair cut short and a couple of day’s stubble growth on his face, he’d wandered into the first bar he found and picked up some cash in handiwork.

  Washing dishes and cleaning tables couldn’t compare to being a world-famous rock star, but he couldn’t trade his soul for that life anymore. Breaking up fights and clearing out happy drunks before they broke the furniture allowed him not to think. It kept him busy and the regulars seemed to have accepted Jamie Trent.

  Shifting in his seat, he lounged behind the wheel. He’d stopped off for lunch, but had started to feel the effects of sitting too long in one position. He was a wolf, a creature born and bred to run rather than sit and wait for his ass to spread. But he couldn’t run the distance—quite apart from the fact he’d be buck naked when he arrived. Given the nature of the date however, perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. So driving it had to be.

  In the past, he’d have flown, but the instant the name Trent Savage appeared on any passenger list going anywhere, someone would alert the media and he’d be met by a horde at his destination, all baying for blood and wanting to know why he’d walked out on the band. He wasn’t naïve; even if the guys hadn’t said anything, a new drummer in the lineup had to attract attention.

  Unable to help it, he’d watched the news. When asked, the guys hadn’t said much, only that the band had had a parting of the ways, all amicable and no, they didn’t know where he’d gone. He’d seen the reports. They’d taken on Reese Payne. Sav nodded. He approved. A damn good drummer, one day Payne’d be better than Sav. A clever move to bring him in.

  He’d finally had to turn the news reports off, eating up each glimpse of K like an addict with his favorite fix. Too gorgeous to be true, but K wasn’t Sav’s, could never be his. That hadn’t stopped him from snagging a women’s glossy magazine when he’d seen Karlan on the cover. The interview had been on the centerfold, of course, and on opening it, he’d been confronted with an image of the man he loved, naked to the waist and spread over a bed.

  All golden skin, loose hair and little else, he held the black satin sheets over his groin—barely—and looked at the camera with pure lust in his eyes. Sav had had to wait for his cock to go down before he could head to the cashier and buy the damn thing, even though he’d told himself no. He’d given in, bought it anyway and stuffed it in the bottom of his bag.

  He wouldn’t open it. Driving through the mountain heading toward the cabin he’d booked for the night through Madame Eve, he ignored his bag and the magazine within. K was in his past, and the coming night was all about his future, about cutting the ties and moving on. His breath punched out of his lungs as he pulled off the main road.

  In the middle of thick forest, the luxury cabins were set back so far, a person would have to know they were there. He squinted through the windscreen, snow flurries in the headlights obscuring the lane ahead.

  He’d been to that area before, many times, but in the darkness with the snow lying thick on the ground, it appeared very different. No way did he want to make a mistake and run off into one of the treacherous ditches. Sure, a crash wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt like hell and he had a healthy respect for pain. He had enough emotional shit going on at the moment to want to add actual physical pain to the list.

  Relief rolled through him when up ahead, the lights of the cabins were a welcome beacon in the snow-driven night. With care, Sav pulled up in front of number three, noting the absence of another vehicle. A quick glance confirmed the lights were on in the cabin and movement behind one of the blinds said his date had already arrived.

  His head hit the headrest and he closed his eyes. What would the guy be like? He couldn’t remember what he’d put on the damn form. Asked for long hair or something. He groaned. God, he hoped he hadn’t described K; that would really screw him up. His eyelids popped open. Would it though? Perhaps he’d looked at this all wrong. If his date happened to be a K clone, then that would be an opportunity to get what he wanted and move on. Get some closure….

  Galvanized into action, he grabbed his bag, sliding from the truck before he could change his mind. Yeah, that’s what it was if the guy even remotely resembled K. Some closure. If not, then it could be the first night of the rest of his life.

  His boots crunched on the fresh snow underfoot, the cold wind sneaking under the edges of his open jacket, seeking skin to chill. He shivered. Crap, it was frigid enough out there to freeze even a wolf’s nuts off. He tramped through the snow and headed for the cabin.

  The wind brought the scents of the forest to him and for a moment he stopped to peer into the darkness. The full moon wasn’t for a couple of weeks, but already he felt its pull. For a second the temptation to drop his bag, shift and disappear into the wilds hit him. He’d be able to live like a wolf out there and it would be a relief to not think. Be an animal all the time. With a sigh, he put the thought aside. He’d been a coward for too long. No more.

  Reaching the door, he knocked before he could change his mind. Then his nose got in on the act and gave him a swift kick in the ass. The scent of another wolf wound around him and his eyes widened in the darkness. Shit. He couldn’t do a wolf. No way, no how. He should have put that down on the form. He needed a human. A nice, sweet little human with….

  His imagination fed him images of K and he gave up. Couldn’t the guy leave him alone, even in his own head? A growl on his lips, he snapped into a tight one-eighty, intending to stalk back to his truck and get the hell out of Dodge. But the door opened at that very moment.

  “Hello?”

  The familiar voice, sexy over rough-cut whiskey and twenty smokes a day, hit him right in the heart. He spun on his heel, unable to believe what he saw.

  K stood in the doorway.

  Chapter Four

  Up until getting there, K hadn’t been sure booking with Madame Eve had been a good idea. Hell, he couldn’t be sure if what he wanted was even possible. How could one woman succeed in finding Sav when all Barrett’s efforts had failed? But he’d put down what he wanted anyway, pouring his heart out on the 1Night Stand dating service application.

  It had felt a little weird but strangely therapeutic explaining to a complete stranger about how FUBAR his life had become. Since his blowup, the band and entourage had been on eggshells around him, giving him space, whatever he needed. Surprisingly, Payne had been the most support; urging him onward if he faltered and challenging him through music. Between them, they’d laid down new solos and duets, ever more complex, with K pushing the kid to the limits of his abilities. To the limits of both their abilities.

  What Payne had said about needing to play with him, that he didn’t know how Sav could resist the pull, hit home, and the little demon sat on K’s shoulder. If Sav could resist the siren lure of the music and him when he heard it, then so be it. The bastard could stay disappeared.

  After arriving at the cabin, he’d put his stuff away, showered and changed. K stopped in the middle of the living room and raked a hand through his hair. It fell loose about his shoulders. Should he put it up? Or leave it down? Crap. Where had all these nerves come from? Pacing again, he reached up and scooped the front part back to keep it out of his eyes, snapping the band from his wrist around it. It wouldn’t stay up long, it never did.

  A knock at the door froze him. Oh, hell. His date had arrived. He couldn’t move, fear and excitement rolling through him in equal measure.

  The sharp rap came at the door again and with a gasp, he launched into action, strode across the room and yanked the door open before the guy got bored and left.

  His gaze fell on a broad set of his shoulders and the cold hit him at the same time as a bolt of heat. One was external, the other driven by pure lust. But as the dual assault stole his breath, K couldn’t tell one from the other. The guy on the doorstep hadn’t turned around yet, but K’s heart fell. Couldn’t be Sav, not dressed like that. Nice though, real nice. The lines of his body said
he’d intended to head back to his car. Obviously thought the place empty after he hadn’t gotten a response. K kicked himself. Great first impression, dickwad.

  “Hello?”

  Out of habit, he fell into the indolent rock-star act, lifting both his hands to place them either side of the door frame. With his shirt open to the waist and his jeans riding low on his hips, he knew it displayed his abs to best advantage. Women, and men, had fallen over themselves in the past to touch him, so why not? In no way shy about his own abilities, he knew he could rock anyone’s world. The question was…would they rock his?

  The guy paused and took a step backward into the light.

  Dark, short hair was visible over the top of a collar popped against the wind, only the back of his head remained visible. A heavy jacket swathed him, but hinted at broad shoulders, while the faded jeans hugging his calves and thighs were tucked into rugged boots.

  He finally turned and K got an eyeful of the body under the open jacket. And holy hell…what a body. The denim clung lovingly to powerful thighs, sliding into a trim waist and washboard abs, enhanced rather than concealed by a skinny-rib jersey shirt, which in turn strained over a broad chest. The buttons were open at the neck, revealing a tantalizing slice of skin. How could he look so good with so little skin showing?

  K’s gaze jerked upward to a sharp jawline covered in stubble, then over the short back and sides. Crap, he’d thought long hair looked good on a guy, but in that second revised his opinion. Finally he moved his attention to the guy’s eyes and his heart stuttered. Familiar dark eyes smiled back.

  “Hello, K.”

  Sav, but a Sav K had never seen before.

  He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. All thought processes froze at the sight of the man he’d missed like a lost limb. A man so much a part of him, so fundamental to his well-being, not having him near had been hell on earth.