Beautiful Crazy Part 14

Her shy smile was a reminder of the constantly changing and contradictory beauty that was Kevan Landry. And her gasp as he pinched one nipple and sucked the other into his mouth was his cue to keep things moving.

"This doesn't change anything." Her words were rushed and delivered on heavy breaths.

"I know, Bettie. Just enjoy it," he said. Reaching down, he parted her wet lips to stroke her pulsing c.l.i.t. "Oh, I think you already are."

He pulled her other rosy nipple into his mouth and bit a little less gently as he pinched her hard c.l.i.t. Her body stiffened, and she sang his name as she came apart in his hands. He dragged out her o.r.g.a.s.m by plunging two fingers into her quivering ca.n.a.l, absorbing her cries as if they were feeding him straight adrenaline. Oh, the power he felt when he brought her some relief, some joy, like he could conquer the world.

If Mason wasn't careful, he could become addicted to this woman.

Kevan was a lot of things; stupid wasn't one of them. She knew she shouldn't be here with him, but she couldn't muster the energy to feel any regret for falling into bed with Mason again. He'd shown up right when she'd needed him. The nightmare that had frightened her from a sound sleep had continued to linger until Mason had bullied his way into her bunk and carried her off. Her pathetic attempts to pull away were just her going through the practiced motions she used to keep everyone away. She'd wanted him. Desperately.

There would be time for personal recriminations and self-flagellation later. At that moment, she was riveted by the image of the glorious man kneeling between her parted legs. Watching as he stroked his long erection with huge-but somehow still elegant-hands and seamlessly rolled on the condom. He really was a ma.s.sive, gorgeous man with broad shoulders, sinewy taunt muscles, and a tapered waist.

"If you're not inside me in the next five seconds, I swear I'm taking matters into my own hands and leaving you out of the equation," she blurted.

He laughed, never taking his eyes off her or his hand from his c.o.c.k. "Now who's the bossy one?"

Mason's hand wrapped around her knee as he stretched her legs wide before laying her ankle on his shoulder. His grin took on a scandalous, almost feral tilt, before he leaned forward, caging her in, and lifted her bottom. He stared directly into her eyes with an intense heat that made her want to look away. But she didn't. She needed this connection with him, even if it was transitory and superficial. Needed to feel part of something and not alone. Just for a while.

Kevan grabbed Mason's shoulders as he plunged deep inside her, deeper than she thought possible. When he began to move slowly, the tingling sensation building in her core surprised her. Apparently, the man had a magic p.e.n.i.s. She felt her muscles relax, unfurl, with his increasingly demanding motions. Kevan's body no longer belonged to her, she realized, as she arched into his and her fingers scored his back.

His thrusts became more erratic. He groaned, "I can't last much longer."

The urgency in his voice and the fact that a powerful man like Mason could lose control with her pushed her over the edge. Her world sparked a million colors, going from shades of gray to a rainbow in seconds. He called her name as he spilled into her, stroking two more times before he stilled inside her, on top of her.

It took all of about three minutes before the panic set in and she pushed him off her, which he let her do. Avoiding his stare, she gathered her nights.h.i.+rt and sifted through his tangled sheets for her panties.

His warm hand pressed on her back, calming her enough to stop and look at him. Warmth flooded her cheeks-embarra.s.sment from the s.e.x or from her panic?

"It's okay, Kevan," he said quietly, as if talking to a frightened animal. As if knowing her better than he should and sensing her fear before even she could identify it. "We don't have to talk about it. We don't have to try and figure anything out. Just lie here with me."

His hand rubbed circles on her lower back. G.o.d, he really did have some strange hold on her. Better to own up to the mistake now and get the f.u.c.k out before she lost her heart to him.

She cleared the cobwebs from her throat and stood next to the bed with her shoulders level. "Thank you for the distraction. But I think it's time for me to go to my own bed."

His eyes widened, and his face flushed. "You're thanking me? Thanking me for f.u.c.king you? Jesus. Why can't you just let go for one night? Just let me f.u.c.king hold you."

The anger in his eyes was all the justification she needed to rationalize her escape.

"You know why, Mason. We..." She pointed to him and back at herself. "We aren't a thing. We can never be a thing. You don't do relations.h.i.+ps, remember? And I don't do this! Don't even get me started on the whole 'you're taking away my livelihood' thing." Hating the shake in her voice and knowing there wasn't anything left to say, she smiled weakly and stomped out of his room.

She yanked her gown over her head and threw herself into her cold bunk. Alone. Always alone.

Chapter 14.

Welcome to life on the road, Kevan thought wryly as she pushed the off b.u.t.ton on her phone's alarm. She drew open the curtain and dragged her achy body out of her narrow bunk. They'd only been on tour two days-three now-but Kevan was exhausted with an unnatural weariness that left her bones heavy and her muscles fatigued. And now the ache between her legs matched that of her heart.

Grabbing her iPad off the bunk shelf, she reviewed the schedule for Redding that day, which included an all-day charity home build. Then she shot off a text message to her intern, Sindra, reminding her to follow up with the media, and set her tablet back on the bunk. The clank and clunk from the kitchen alerted her to Mason's presence. She smiled, knowing how hard he tried to be quiet in the morning, but his big body in the small RV was the proverbial bull in the china shop. Then she remembered how she'd thrown a tantrum and stomped off in the middle of the night. Yet another impulsive act meant to salvage her bruised ego and s.h.i.+eld her wounded heart gone wrong.

She trudged into the kitchen, stretching her arms over her head. Mason handed her a steaming cup of coffee, which she accepted gratefully. They exchanged niceties, ignoring the awkward morning-after tension that swirled around them. She sipped her coffee as she prepared for the low income Home for Good project build she'd set up through Bowen's ex, Lynn Bale.

They moved around each other as if they already knew the other's carefully ch.o.r.eographed routine. She smiled to herself, allowing herself to imagine them as a real couple. He was beautiful and graceful, where she was all clunk and sparkle. Her manufactured glamour and klutziness. His natural sophisticated style and cla.s.s. What would it be like to wake up with a man like him every morning? A real man. A grown-up. Would she get up early to make him his morning coffee every day? Or would he let her sleep in and deliver her favorite blend to her in bed?

Kevan shook her head and moved into the bathroom to finish getting dressed. As she pulled the bathroom's pocket door open and called out to Mason, "Hey, you ready or wh..." Mr. Punctual was already standing in the kitchen with her enormous boho bag hanging from his index finger, smirking.

"Of course you are," she said wryly.

They stepped out the door into the foggy early morning and piled into the rented van. The band, a few roadies, some woman she hadn't met before, and Joe were already there waiting. While some warmed their hands with paper cups of coffee, others shoved their hands in their pockets, hoping to find warmth in the cold fall morning. Kevan pulled her phone from her pocket and fired off a few more texts to the local media attending the build.

"Let's get this party started!" Jax yelled, laughing when the rest of the sleep-deprived group winced, groaned, and slid down in their seats. Maybe September was the wrong time to plan an event like this.

Once they reached the build site, Kevan climbed out of the van first, and checking the time on her phone, she realized they were running slightly behind. She pointed Mason, Joe, and the band toward the coffee and donuts while she located Lynn, Bowen's old high school girlfriend and the community relations director for Home for Good. The thin, tall blond squealed and threw her arms around Kevan, rocking her back and forth and squeezing her tight. The earnest reception warmed her heart and melted some of the tension knotting her shoulders. Kevan had always liked Lynn and, at one time, hoped she might be the special woman to quell Bowen's restlessness and stop his downward spiral. Despite it not working out with her brother, Lynn had stayed in touch, and they'd remained friends.

"I can't believe how great you look." Lynn was always complimentary and sweet, despite always being the hottest chick in any room. With her long, straight hair and big green eyes, she was the quintessential beach babe. The California girl with model looks and a heart of gold, who dedicated herself to improving the lives of others.

"Right," Kevan said, rolling her eyes. She laughed and looked down at her vintage Social Distortion s.h.i.+rt and torn, baggy jeans. Yeah, she looked lovely today. "How have you been? Heard you're getting married. Who's the lucky guy?"

"He's a cop here in Redding I met at a fundraiser a year ago. It was love at first sight. Plan on having a bunch of his babies and living happily ever after." Lynn's smile grew even wider, if that were possible. "So who's the s.e.xy, broody giant you came with?"

"No one," Kevan said shortly. No reason to open that can of worms. "Just another marketing guy."

As her eye instinctively sought him out in the growing crowd, Mason raised his head and glanced at her. He stood next to a young woman wearing a sheer yoga outfit that was completely out of place on a cold housing build. The woman talked animatedly, waving her hands and her hammer in the air. Maybe she was one of the volunteers from the local gym. Maybe she was more Mason's type. He didn't smile at Kevan but nodded and turned back to the overly chatty woman. Kevan clenched her jaw. Maybe the hammer would slip out of blondie's hand and land on her foot. Or his.

Catching Kevan watching him like a love-starved teen, Lynn raised her eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really." But maybe she should pair Mason with someone more helpful. Like another guy. "We might have gotten together once."

"And?"

"And then he found out I was trying to sign Manix and left without a word."

"And?" d.a.m.n Lynn and her tenacity. The woman was like a pit bull.

"And now he keeps cornering me and kissing me. And maybe he dragged me out of my bunk on the bus last night and then I ran off like a scared bunny. It's all a mistake. He's the CEO of a really big company, and now we're sharing an RV and competing for Manix's business." She explained the meeting with Joe, the deal they'd made, and how she'd ended up sharing his motor home.

"Girl, you have a knack for jumping in the s.h.i.+t feetfirst, don't you?" Lynn laughed. "I give you two days at the most."

"Two days? For what?"

"Before you're back in his bed again." She winked.

"Shut up," Kevan mumbled and shoved her friend's shoulder. Nope, she could totally stay away from him.

"Don't look, but he's been staring at you the whole time we've been talking."

It took all of Kevan's self-control to keep from looking for him again, to not dwell on the constant heat in his eyes and the s.e.xy glower she knew was on his face. "He's watching me? How?"

"Like he wants to eat you up." The two women dissolved into girlish giggles. Then Lynn's smile faded, and her brow furrowed as she leaned in close to Kevan. "How's Bowen?"

Though they hadn't stayed together after Lynn had left Portland for college, Lynn and Bowen had stayed friends. Her brother was so charismatic it was difficult for anyone to dislike him for too long, even a jilted ex. Until he'd bottomed out, of course. Then it had been pretty easy to stay p.i.s.sed at him.

"He's okay. In rehab. Hopefully, it'll stick." Kevan pasted on her best smile and tried to ignore the look of pity Lynn wore. Thankfully, that was a look Mason never gave her. But it was time to get to work, since the day was about the new homeowners and her band. Not rehas.h.i.+ng past tragedies or her f.u.c.kwit brother.

All around Kevan, volunteers were getting grouped into specific activities. One for painting walls and trim. Another for landscaping duty. Mason and Jax, along with blondie, appeared to be in charge of digging the hole for the mailbox. And when did those two become so chummy? The one thing missing was the reporters. Strange.

"Why don't we meet the family," Lynn said as she grabbed her and dragged her over to the couple and their three kids.

After speaking with the family for a few minutes, Kevan called the rest of the group over and introduced them. The unbridled appreciation and excitement infected the band and the volunteers. These people deserved this home and were ready to get dirty to make it happen. Kevan checked the time, again. Anxiety chipped away at her cool demeanor. What if no one showed? What if Tina had given them the wrong location? This wasn't just about Manix. The family and Lynn's organization deserved the recognition. The more PR they received, the better the organization did. The better the organization did, the more people they could help.

After checking her voice mail, Kevan called Sindra and left her a message. A dense, uneasy sensation began to settle heavily in her belly. Where the h.e.l.l were the reporters? The heaviness began to grow as her phone rang. Kevan marched away from the group and answered her cell.

"Hey, it's Sin. Got your messages. I did follow up with the media outlets yesterday. What should I do now?" The usually soft, steady voice of her graphic artist was breathy and panicked.

Kevan let out an aggravated sigh. What the h.e.l.l was going on? Her pulse raced, and her temple began to throb. Pull it together. Act like a boss. "Why don't you call the list of reporters again and find out why none of them are here? It's still early enough in the day that they could run a decent feature."

The long pause on the other end of the phone was not a harbinger of good times. "Yeah. I did call them before I called you back. They all said they'd gotten calls from some guy at Jolt cancelling the coverage for the build."

Some guy? Who would do that? Why? "Weird. Did you tell them it wasn't the case and ask to have new reporters sent?" Hope bobbed tentatively to the surface.

"They were all either rea.s.signed or not in. I'm really sorry, Kev."

The dull throb in her temple increased its tempo, and an icy chill of dread began to descend. Shaking off her fear, she took a deep breath. "It's not your fault. Thank you for everything. I really appreciate your hard work."

Frustrated and more than a little dejected, she ended the call. What the h.e.l.l was going on? And who had pretended to be from Jolt and cancelled her story?

It was hard to hide her emotions; she'd always worn them on her sleeve. Though she avoided Mason, he watched her while she struggled to keep tears from overflowing. It was like he could see through her, right into her heart. Or maybe he knew exactly what was going on and was gauging her reaction. Shaking her head and pus.h.i.+ng away suspicion, Kevan tried to swallow her disappointment. She looked around, and everyone seemed busy and happy. Megadeth blared from a sound system the family had set up, and the entire group-family, volunteers, community members, metal band-was hard at work.

The band was there. The house was getting built. The family had become instant fans of Manix and bonded immediately. Unfortunately, somehow the media had been cancelled. And though it looked as if she'd lost this round in the compet.i.tion for Manix, there was still good work to be done. She looked down at the phone in her hand, and the answer hit her. She'd cover the build herself.

She started taking shots of the family and volunteers and sending them to the band's Instagram and Twitter accounts. Then she added some interview videos and posted them to Vine and Facebook. Because that's how she was. Hit over the head with disappointment after disappointment, Kevan continued to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. Again and again, she adapted and overcame. She'd get the job done and figure out later who had sabotaged her event.

Eventually she tucked her phone away and picked up her hammer. She started pounding nails into her section of the framing, enjoying the freedom of just whacking something. Getting lost in the laborious work, she jumped when Mason's shadow fell across the plywood she was attaching to another board.

"What's up, Bettie?" he asked, the deep timbre of his voice dancing over her skin.

"Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over." She smirked but checked her phone again by habit, sending another picture, this one of Conner and Marco lifting one of the walls into position.

He drew his knuckles up to her face and dragged them softly down her cheek. "C'mon, darlin', what's going on? Maybe I can help."

A s.h.i.+ver ran down her neck. Oh yeah. He could help all righty. She leaned into his hand before remembering she was in public at a charity event. And not his frigging s.e.x toy. He was on the enemy. Abruptly, she pulled away.

"I doubt it," she said, wondering again if he'd had anything to do with the missing media. He certainly had motive. "And what makes you think anything's wrong?"

"You keep looking around for something. And you've been on and off your phone all morning. What's up?" His sincere smile was not what she needed right now. Or ever. If she didn't grow some courage, she was going to lose this battle.

"I'm fine." She swung her hammer high, struck the nail, and pounded it into the plywood.

"Why won't you let me help you?" He frowned. But he already knew the answer. She could see it in his eyes, reflecting back like a mirror.

She tossed the hammer to the side of a stack of wood and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "You're the compet.i.tion. You want what I need. Your success is my downfall. Get it?" Stupid man.

Mason scowled, a tick in his jaw pulsing, and leaned in. He was so close, his warm breath vibrated on her cheek. "Jesus. You think I'm such a heartless d.i.c.k I'd screw you silly and then throw you under the bus at every opportunity?" When she didn't answer, he said, "I guess you f.u.c.king do."

He glared at her for a moment before he shook his head and stomped off. Kevan stared at his retreating back, wondering if he was the culprit or if she was just too jaded to let anyone close.

Mason half listened to the tall, willowy blond giggling about the hammer and nail she was slamming into a wood block. He smiled at her. Why would she volunteer to build a home if she didn't know the difference between a hammer and a saw? So not like Kevan, who was hammering away with a look of raw determination on her beautiful face, completely oblivious to the ogling of every male on the work site, including the group of gym-rat volunteers. Not that he gave a s.h.i.+t. She'd made it clear-he was good enough to screw, but she refused to trust him.

And while Kelli was very attractive and not unlike the women he'd dated in the past, Mason's gaze kept drifting to one curvy brunette with blue streaks and gray eyes, and the most squeezable a.s.s in the history of round, squeezable a.s.ses. The sordid things he wanted to do to that perfect a.s.s. f.u.c.k. She'd ruined him. No other woman even compared to her suns.h.i.+ne and f.u.c.king light. No other woman could spin on a dime so quickly and go from angel to devil either.

Mason decided to pull his head out of his own b.u.t.t, engage Kelli with an "i," and put on his CEO charm. He was, after all, on this tour for a reason-to save his d.a.m.n job and get back to normal. Normal. He rolled the word around in his head.

"What's normal?" she asked, and he realized he must have muttered it aloud.

"Exactly," he mumbled. And when she looked up at him with a quizzical expression, he smiled. "Never mind, hon."

Really, though? What is normal anymore? Kevan had f.u.c.ked up his whole reality as well as his vocabulary. Normal-nothing was normal post-Kevan Landry. Nothing. What did he want then, besides her back in his bed? Nothing. Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that. Maybe Dan was right. Maybe he did want more with her.

Looking around, he suddenly realized why Kevan was so upset and had gone on the attack earlier. The media hadn't shown up. Why weren't they here, and why did he have more sympathy for her than he felt success for himself?

The rest of the afternoon, she did her best to avoid Mason. She even bolted up the RV's steps and vanished into the back for her pre-show routine. Like magic, she transformed into a bizarre, whirling dervish of swirly skirts, stockings, powders, hair spray, and makeup.

Usually, Mason was fascinated by her dressing-up ritual. Loved watching the process of her going from fresh-faced punky girl next door to vampy, vixen queen of the night. Not tonight. Tonight he needed to know what had changed that morning. They'd made so much progress the night before, when she'd opened up to him about her brother. When she'd let him stroke her cheeks and kiss her gently. And then later, when she'd let him make love to her. And then she ran. Now, she couldn't stand to be near him. Did she blame him for the lack of media at the build? f.u.c.k that.

Mason let her flutter around the RV from bathroom to bedroom to her curtained bunk and back through a cloud of cursing and powder, accentuated with cupboards slamming and frustrated growls. He figured it was best to let her complete her rituals, slam stuff around, and have her temper tantrum before he confronted her. When she finally came to rest thirty minutes before they needed to get into the club, she slowed and turned to him.

"I'm gonna go a little bit early and see..."

Patience was overrated. He walked within inches of her and looked down, forcing her to look up and make eye contact with him. Her scent surrounded him, her usual vanilla accompanied with the simple smell of roses.

"What the f.u.c.k, Mason," she muttered. He grabbed her chin and rubbed his thumb back and forth over her glossy bottom lip, staring into her eyes.

"Shhhh," he murmured. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly, then slowed as she took a deep breath. They stood there like that for several seconds.

Mason wrapped his arms around her and pulled her pliant body up against his. Her head pressed against his chest. One hand rubbed lengthwise up and down her back, feeling her rigid muscles soften and relax under his fingers. When she sighed, he felt so triumphant he expected doves and b.u.t.terflies to fill the RV at any moment. He wanted to push her but knew he had to wait. He continued to soothe her with his body and kissed the top of her head.

That woman is under your skin. Dan's words ran through his head. f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, she was getting to him.