Page 56 of Beneath the Burn

Charlee made a beeline past Jay and slipped out the front door. Definitely not the way he planned to reunite with her after missing her so goddamned much all morning.

Fucking Felica. He strode out to the veranda and found Felica straddling Laz on a lounge chair, pouring beer on his nipples and lapping it up.

“Stay away from Charlee.” His voice was low, pulsing with anger.

“Who? The redhead?” She rounded her I’ll-fuck-anything eyes and shoved her tongue through the hoop on Laz’s nipple, watching Jay as she pulled the string free on her bikini bottoms.

Had he really stuck his dick in that? Dozens of times. An itchy wave of disgust spread over him. He needed a fucking shower.

Five other women lay around the pool in various stages of undress. Quick glimpses of their faces—and some of their tramp stamps—confirmed he’d fucked all of them. No wonder Charlee had high-tailed it away from him.

He returned his attention to Felica. “You will not talk to Charlee or look at her again. In fact, everyone out. Pool’s closed.”

A chorus of disapproving moans rumbled back.

Rio tossed the packet of Fun-Dip he was licking and jumped up from his lounger. “Let’s go inside and have a little chat.” He bumped his barrel chest into Jay’s, bullying him into the house with the sheer size of his body, careful to keep his hands up and out.

Jay wasn’t about to throw down with his drummer. For the first time, he questioned the wisdom of all them living together. Too many egos under the same roof. But if they could endure sixteen weeks crammed in a tour bus, they could share a thirteen-thousand-square-foot mansion.

“Is this about your little red snatch?”

So much for not throwing down. Jay swung his arm, put his whole body into it, and hit the brick wall of Rio’s chest. The man looked down at Jay’s fist dropping uselessly away and grinned.

“Call her that again and I won’t be above breaking your fingers while you’re passed out.” Jay spun toward the front door and shook out the throb in his hand.

Rio beat him there. “My life is a haven of tight cunts and tighter drumbeats. You cannot and will not change the way we live just because your little Huntress can’t handle it. Look at me.” Rio rarely showed anger, but when he did, it boomed. “Nor can you change your past.” He lowered his voice. “Does she know what you gave up after you met her? No sex. No drugs or alcohol. You lived like a fucking monk.”

“I’m drug-free now.”

One brown brow climbed toward Rio’s bald head. “Good for you.” His tone was dry, disbelieving.

“Fuck you.”

“Straighten out your fucking head, Jay. Feel me?”

Rio’s voice rattled louder than the door slamming between them. Jay followed the path around the estate and through the manicured front lawn. Palm trees fringed the property, but they were aesthetically placed. The true barrier was the eight-foot privacy fence behind them.

Straighten out his head? Fuck if he could. Charlee had it spinning around so damned fast, he didn’t know which way was straight.

Yeah, he did. It was whichever way she was headed.

Shouts hurtled from the edge of the garden. Following the voices, he found her shoving Nathan in the chest. The man’s stiff posture didn’t ripple beneath her hands.

“I’m going.”

“No. You’re not.” Nathan propped his fists on his hips and stared down at her.

She circled him, hands balled at her sides, and shoved his back. “I am. You can’t stop me.”

Jay froze. She wanted to go? She’d only just arrived. Seeing her so fired up to leave roiled his stomach, keeping his feet rooted and his presence silent.

Nathan sighed. “Charlee, beating on me won’t change my mind.”

She punched him low in his back, and he chuckled. “Now you’re just behaving like a bratty teenager.”

“Arrgh.” She flopped down on one of the stone benches. “Maybe because I never got to be a teenager.”

Nathan rubbed his eyes. “I’m not falling for that one again.”

She pressed her forehead to her knees and held up her middle finger. Nathan stepped toward her toe-to-toe and twined his finger with the one she held up. Jay swallowed back his jealousy and forced himself to watch.

“Why do you have to go so badly?” Nathan squatted before her.

“Because, all the—” She stomped a foot, her head bobbing on her knee. “You wouldn’t understand. Just go away.” Despite her slumped posture, her tone was fierce.

Nathan released her hand and shoved her head up with the press of his fingertips on her brow. Much the way a guy might handle a bothersome little sister. Jay’s shoulders relaxed.

“What wouldn’t I understand?”

She looked up, blinked those huge blue eyes. “There will be women everywhere tonight. Women he’s fucked.” She glanced away, blinked again. “They’ll be pawing him, and he doesn’t do well in those situations. I want to be there to protect him, to support him…and I want to hear him sing.”

Oh, Christ. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to go to the concert. Jay’s heart raced, as did his feet. Around the hedges and along the path to the corner where they huddled. He skidded to a stop behind Nathan. “Let me talk to her.”

Nathan stood, dug in his pocket. “Be my guest.” He pulled out a phone and handed it to Jay. “This is hers. Tony had a spare. I’ve programmed the numbers of the protective team and the household staff. Will you look over them, make sure I’m not missing anything?”

Jay nodded and pocketed the phone.

With a tap on Charlee’s head, Nathan said, “When you’re done here, I need to talk to you. I’ll be up at the house.”

When Jay could no longer see Nathan beyond the privacy of the garden, he joined her on the bench. She cast a worried look at him then focused on her fingers twisting on her lap.

He settled a hand over hers and stilled the movement. “For a minute there, I thought you were begging Nathan to take you away from here. Away from me.”

She jerked her head up, the depths of her eyes gleaming an unfathomable turquoise hue in the sunlight. “Oh no, that’s…No, I don’t want to leave.”

The skin between her fingers was as soft and soothing as a classical guitar riff. He wanted her velvet touch gliding effortlessly over his body. Probably not an appropriate time to want such a thing, but it didn’t stop him from imagining it. “Going to the concert is a bad idea, Charlee.”

Her face crumpled, but she still managed to clench that stubborn jaw. “When do you leave for your next tour?”

Motherfucker. He hadn’t even thought about that. “In two weeks.”

“Two weeks.” She stared across the garden. “And what? I stay here and wait for your return? For how long?”

No fucking way. “It’s a sixteen-week tour.”

She nodded, swallowed, and maintained her faraway stare. “That’s a long time.”

Too long. “You’re going with me.”

A little noise squeaked in her throat. She looked at him with so much longing, her eyes burned with it. So did his. She didn’t ask him to repeat what he said. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could. Taking her on tour with him was dangerous and selfish, and Nathan would stab him before he allowed it. And the groupies…Christ, the groupies would eat her alive. How the fuck could he protect her on the road?

With an army of highly-trained bodyguards, that was how. He sure as hell couldn’t guard her with sixteen weeks and hundreds of miles between them. “I’ll deal with Nathan.”

That earned him a smile that made him want to make more rash promises.

“I’d like to make an amendment to the Charlee Constitution.”

He arched his eyebrow, waited.

“The amendment states that I go with you tonight. You know, as a practice run, see how the team guards both of us.”

Anything. Anything at all to keep her smiling like that. “I’m finding it very hard to say no to you.” He dropped to his knees and wedged his body between her legs, gripping her hips. “Amendment approved.”

She searched his face, her eyes a soft stroke everywhere they rested. “Let me touch you.” Two fingers hovered over his mouth, waiting.

The need for her touch was as a strong as his fear of the things it might rouse. Fuck it. He nodded.

Keeping her fingers at a teasing distance, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “If the bad stuff creeps in, sing to me, okay? I’ll hear you.”