Dawn Autumn (5 page)

“Jay.”

“Open your eyes,” she countered, not budging.

He hesitated, then reached over blindly and spilled her coffee cup. Distracted by the hot liquid, she didn’t get a glimpse of his face as he snatched the glasses right out of her hand.

“You rat!” she screeched, scooting back to avoid being dripped on. “I can’t believe you did that!” She grabbed a kitchen towel and quickly contained the flow.

“Sorry.” He sounded relieved as he slipped on his glasses. Behind the safety of the brown lenses, he tried to help her clean up.

She clenched her jaw as she furiously mopped at the spill, angry with herself. She was behaving badly, and she knew better than to say the things she had, to be so rude to a geek. Hadn’t she been one herself not so long ago? In some circles, she was one still. Hadn’t her band kicked her out for being too stodgy? Emotions ricocheted inside her, making her hand shake as she tossed a paper napkin into the trash. Either she was losing her mind, or she had spooks using her apartment as a shortcut. Ignoring her tremors, she brushed her hair out of her eyes, not looking at him, positive he noticed her unsteady hand. How could he miss it? “Look, I’m sorry. It’s early...I was rude. I need some more sleep.”

“It’s all right. Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped by so early—you had a rough night,” he said gently. “I’ll be glad to come back when you’re rested.”

Surprised by his forgiveness, she stared at him, and then quickly looked away, unsettled by his attitude. Didn’t men usually start yelling at this point? Her heart gave a painful little kick, and she massaged it in consternation. “Okay. Good idea.” Good idea? She wanted him coming back? Had she intended that to be an invitation?

After he left, she crashed on her couch and contemplated the locked door. She needed to get out, go sniff around the clubs and participate in the open mike sessions, not just for the band it might drum up, but for the male company. Granted, nice guys were sparse in those places, but there were some. Maybe she’d meet one; a tame,
normal
guy with a serious relationship on his mind. Someone who could handle her music, handle her.

She was seeing way too much of Fred.

Chapter Four

“Thanks for the ride.” Jay looked at the handsome drummer called Spider and wondered what she was doing. Granted, it nice not to have to take a cab home, but maybe it would have been safer. Spider had the lazy sensuality of a playboy, long black hair and a come-hither smile that did serious damage to her insides. Allowing him to take her home had been a mistake.

Spider paused by her door, still holding her guitar. He towered over her, and his slow, heated smile was more dangerous than heat lightning. He tilted his head at her door. “Are you going to unlock it?”

“I’m not sure I should,” she said, falling back on honesty as she fingered the key in her pocket. “I’m not going to let you spend the night.”

His white teeth flashed. “I didn’t ask.”

“You were thinking it.” She couldn’t help it—her heart beat faster at the flirtation. He’d been teasing her all night.

Slowly, he eased the guitar down and leaned it in her door jam. Bending a smoldering look on her, he said silkily, “How about a kiss good night, then?” When she just stood there, frozen with uncertainty, he started to lower his head.

* * * *

Fred had known the moment they arrived, and he he’d watched in alarm from one of his security screens as Jay paused before her door. He didn’t need the sound on to read what was going on. She was hesitating on the threshold of more than her rooms.

Cursing, he ignored his appearance as he yanked his door open and headed for the stairs. He couldn’t let her open her door for Spider.

The man straightened at the sound of Fred’s boots on the stairs. Jay glanced his way, and then did a double take. She dropped her jacket and didn’t seem to notice.

“Hi,” Fred said to the stranger as he moved to Jay’s side and slid an arm around her waist. She blushed and didn’t seem to know what to do. Maybe she was too shocked to speak.

Fred glanced at her and purred, “You’re home late.”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She glanced mutely at Spider, who frowned.

He eyed Fred, who easily matched his tall build, and had wider shoulders to boot. “I take it you’re friends?”

“Good friends,” Fred said, lots of teeth in his smile. He didn’t elaborate.

Spider frowned at Jay. After a moment, he said, “I’m at the Grey Loon every weekend if you want to look me up.” He slid a challenging glance at Fred, nodded at Jay, and then sauntered past, closing the outer door behind him as he left.

Jay made a strangled sound in her throat and fumbled with her key. She couldn’t get it in her lock, so Fred took it from her and opened her door.

Jay couldn’t breathe as she dragged her gig bag inside. The Fender seemed to have gained fifty pounds, and she leaned it against the wall, glad to be done with it. Then she stood there and stared, suddenly wishing she had something to do with her hands other than twist them.

A stranger stood in her apartment, a flaming temptation in black leather. His dark hair hung loose to his shoulders and he was plastered with form fitting leather from head to toe. Her dropped jacket dangled from one raised hand as he tossed it on her couch, causing the muscles in his bare arm to bulge around his thin gold armbands. A buckled vest molded lovingly to his magnificent chest, allowing a naughty peek at his pecs through the slight gap. He was wearing shades, so she couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but the handsome planes of his face were startlingly familiar. “F-fred?”

“Hi.”

She was breathing hard, totally rattled by his shocking appearance. She’d been prepared to deal with
Fred,
not his handsome biker stand in. Cute guys made her nervous—
this
guy put her in a cold sweat. “Are...are you really Fred?”

He smiled, a faint, knowing smile.

Unnerved, she crossed her arms and rubbed her bicep. “What happened to you?”

“Extreme makeover?” He crossed his arms over his chest, making the muscles bulge.

She quickly looked away. “Right. Uh, were you going out?”

“No.” His mouth flattened, and she had the feeling his eyes narrowed behind his shades. His subtle, delectably musky scent intensified.

It was definitely not the Eu de Fred she remembered, she thought as she wrinkled her nose suspiciously. Fred did
not
smell yummy.

He smiled that faintly amused smile, the smile with an edge. “What?”

“Well, you don’t smell like Fred,” she said defensively, feeling heat light up her cheeks.

“I took a shower,” he said huskily, moving a step closer.

She backed up, trying to ignore the savage drumbeat of her heart. This was Fred, for pity’s sake. “What are you doing up?”

“What are you doing accepting rides from strangers?” he countered menacingly, moving steadily closer until he backed her into her counter.

She gripped the edge, her eyes widening at his possessive attitude. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, hoping, denying. “It was a fast way home, and it’s not your problem,” she almost gasped. She started to shake, and not with fear. He made her feel a thousand times more rattled than Spider ever had.

For answer, he closed his soft, hot mouth on hers, forbidding further conversation. Her gasp gave him access, which he leisurely took advantage of, exploring with his tongue, drawing her in even as he pulled her under.

A trickle of commonsense made her rip her mouth away. “Fred!” The protest was weak, and she could barely remember why she made it.

He pressed his body against hers and shockwaves crashed through her body. His kiss this time was deeper, hotter, and he threaded his hand through her hair, tilting her head back. She moaned as an electric thrill surged through her blood, squeezing her heart. She wanted him, wanted this, would die if he stopped. She needed ....

He pulled back and sucked in air, like a diver surfacing from ten fathoms down. For a moment, he stared at her, and then he gave her an inch of space. “Would you have taken this from Spider, too?” he growled softly.

She jerked at the question, staring at him wide eyed, still too consumed to think objectively. “I ....” She shook her head, trying to clear it.

“Wrong answer,” he said grimly, then claimed her mouth again. The next time he raised his head, she was shaking, too weak to do anything but cling to him.

“Who else is going to kiss you?” he asked softly, nuzzling her hair, breathing deeply of her scent.

“N-no one,” she said faintly, too shaken to move. Could this really be happening? She’d never been so dizzied by a kiss.

He nibbled at her lips like a man who couldn’t keep from sampling dessert. “I have to go.”

Glassy eyed, she wobbled as he drew his arms away. “Okay,” she whispered. She felt naked and cold without his arms around her.

He walked backwards to the door, then turned and softly closed it behind him.

Jay braced her elbows back on the counter and leaned her head back, trying to drag in air. What had happened to her this evening?

* * * *

Jay didn’t know whether she was surprised or not to find Fred at her door at eight o’clock the next morning. Bemused, she let him in, disappointed to find him dressed much as he always was, minus the hat. What had happened to her hunk?

Fred noted the coffee mug in her hand, smiled faintly, and claimed a spot on her couch. He looked around, as if searching for conversational material. His eyes lit on her guitar. “May I?” At her nod, he took it from the stand and awkwardly cradled it on his lap. Spying the black pick woven into the strings at the top, he pulled it free and experimented with it.

Unable to stand it, Jay set down her cup and joined him on the couch. “Like this.” She showed him how to hold the pick, and then demonstrated a simple strumming pattern. “Down, down, up, up, down.” His proximity was making her edgy. She retreated to the counter again, hiding behind her cup.

He slanted her look, his glasses shaving off some of the intensity. “Would you teach me? You make it look like fun.”

He was so innocent looking, but the feeling coming off him was hot enough to make the air shimmer with invisible waves. Jay squinted at the window paper, the vinyl panels that simulated stained glass, and frowned. She’d spent a restless night thinking of him, trying to figure him out, hoping to dissect her own motives in having Spider over last night. Her conclusions weren’t pretty, and they didn’t speak well of her. The smartest thing she could do now was to preserve her distance. “I don’t know. I’m curious, though. What happened to the clothes you were wearing last night? I mean...they weren’t your usual sort of thing.” She felt herself flush, and couldn’t hold his gaze. It sounded like a complaint, even to her ears.