CRASH & BURN (Rule Breaker) (21 page)

Soaking in the tub, he finished his drink and the world quieted down. Way down. His chest, which had felt as though encased in a vise, unclenched—not much, but enough for him to draw a heavy breath. He rested his head against the back of the tub and fought picking up his phone to dial Alana’s number for the thousandth time.

God, he’d been a complete moron. He clenched his jaw. This time he’d backed down and missed the opportunity to go and get what was his. Alana St. James was his. Her body, the way she melded and fit against him. Jesus, his cock hardened thinking about her. Jon gripped himself roughly, exercising the memory of her hot, wet lips wrapped around his length. His strokes were a poor substitute for Alana’s tight pussy, but he needed this release or he’d explode. His balls tightened and he spurted a hot jet into the water.

This release only made his ache razor-sharp for Alana. No matter the slight muting of his hunger, he pulled the bathtub chain and stood up. Dripping wet, he walked to the shower stall, and turned the lever to cold. The water rained down full blast. Like every other time, once he primed his dick with thoughts of Alana, he was raring to go.

With the pelting ice water on his back, he expelled her name in rush as though he’d held on to her and couldn’t let go. This time was different…so different. Since meeting her that first time, her name crouched on the end of his tongue, waiting for him to yell it in release. “Alana,” he groaned in pain, and then slammed his hand against the tile. Fuck. She was his.
His
.

He’d not be brash and demand her back, even though that felt so right when it came to Alana. She needed him to man up and prove that what they shared ran much more than skin-deep. She occupied every inch of him. Again, she nailed it. This wasn’t about making a clean break. This was about building a life together, no matter what storm came. With Alana he didn’t need a place to hide or run, he only desired her. Rain or shine. In that moment, he found the strength to go after the woman who’d captured his heart and soul.

Chapter Nineteen

The seats in the Ryman were long rows of solid benches, reaching from one side to the other, divided into sections, and not the type of venue Orion was accustomed to playing. Fans milled around downstairs as well as on the upper level; throngs of people climbed the stairs, crowded the bars, and the benches were packed. A sold-out house, and the lively crowd buzzed. Baxter had stopped in and touched base with the band during the rehearsal set, but to Alana’s surprise he’d not asked for her signed contract. She had signed it, but couldn’t bring herself to contact Jon just to throw it in his gorgeous face. She would have, if what she had going on with him was just sex …but somewhere along the way, he’d managed to creep—and that’s what it was, creep—into her bones, her blood, her brain. Her cells ached for him. Every last one.

Clarissa patted her arm. “Almost time.”

“Already?” Alana feigned an excitement she lacked. “God, I’m stoked. How about you?” Dressed in a skimpy jersey number with a designer-perfect fit, she rose from the chair stationed in front of the makeup mirror. Andy had finished her hair and makeup. Another surprise from Lansing Records, and one she knew couldn’t be part of the contract, given her cut. The stylist’s non-stop barrage of conversation had kept her mind occupied, forestalling a sea of melancholy that threatened to flood her world.

The lights were lowered, and the crowd’s energy ramped up. Applause rose, stomping feet shook the building, and whistling mingled with a name. Their name. “
O-ri-on
,” chanted over and over.

Hank towered above everyone. He carried a set of drumsticks, and absentmindedly twirled them. Billy ran his thumb over Christy’s jaw, and Alana’s chest caved a little when her friend reached up and lightly stroked Billy’s face.

A twinkling flash caught her eye. “What’s that?” Alana whispered.

“I was going to tell you, after the show,” Christy said with tears in her eyes. “Billy asked me to marry him. I said yes.”

“Seriously?” Alana glanced from Christy to Billy. “Way to go, team!”

“I intend on making an honest—or as near honest as I can—woman out of her,” Billy chuckled.

Alana threw her arms around both of them, and pounded on Billy’s and Christy’s backs simultaneously. “I’m so happy for you both. Jeez, that’s such good news.”

She and Christy stared at each other and then broke out laughing. Tears streaked down their faces and they laughed harder. “Damn,” Christy whispered. “This is why I wanted to wait until after the show.”

The stage manager came by, his headphones askew, and said. “Five minutes.”

And that’s when she saw him. Jon was on the opposite side of the stage, leaning against the wall just as he’d done the first night she’d spotted him after their show. Surrounded by people vying for his attention, he’d been staring at her across the room. Each and every time their gazes had snapped together that first time, her ribs had tightened, wrenching the last bit of air from her body. This time was the same…he stole the oxygen from her lungs.

A rush of adrenaline rocketed through her bloodstream. A consuming desire flared inside her, urging her to cross the stage. If only she could reach out and run her fingers through Jon’s hair, pulling it until it hurt. A painful ache filled her to be standing apart from him.

His incredibly-kissable lips quirked. He lifted his jaw, totally a predator move, and her stomach clenched in familiar hunger precipitated by a torquing sexual tension. Damn him to hell, why did he have to look so fucking amazing? Jon must have read her mind, for he pushed off the wall and became a stalking menace crossing the backstage area.

She tried to still the tremble of her lips. A few more feet and he’d be right in front of her.
Oh God, isn’t this the point where the floor is supposed to open up and suck her down in one huge gulp?

She swallowed, but a lump wedged in her throat and grew larger with each step he took toward her. Hank tapped his drumsticks behind her. That meant it was two more minutes until show time.

“Good evening. You look lovely.” His Brit accent was of no help in warding off his charm.

“Hi,” she returned, biting her quivering lip.

“Jesus, you’re putting the screws to me now,” he whispered, and then reached out to curl a strand of her hair behind her ear. If this was an excuse to get close to her, it was working. His hand fell to her shoulder and stayed put. The weight—strangely comforting—multiplied her ability to recall hundreds of times he’d touched her, and how that touch usually meant they were in some state of undress. The two of them wildly fucking. Coming together, and coming apart.

It would have been impossible to imagine him staying away tonight. So she wasn’t shocked to see him here. Just to have him so close to her again.

She wasn’t prepared for his hands, not after she was more than certain he still believed she was staying at Ray’s condo. But she couldn’t and didn’t…not after he’d come over. She’d gotten a modest hotel room, needing to be alone, and get her thoughts together before tonight.

Yet all Jon had to do was swagger across a room, cock an arrogant eyebrow, and greet her. His power wrecked the walls she’d thrown up. And as the walls tumbled down, she admitted she’d missed him savagely. His damned sexy voice was the tip of the Jon Lansing iceberg. His expecting she’d argue with him, his scent, and his skillful hands all had her jittery; to admit her feelings for him needed to be separated from his ability to manage her career. She wanted both. A reckless and impossible fantasy.

The expression on his handsome face confirmed that he’d missed her just as much. One look and she was freefalling.

“I listened to the recordings of the practice sessions and caught the stage rehearsal.” He moved his hand, and tenderly caressed the back of her neck with his fingers.

She found all her attention caught by the fervent feelings he evoked, even though she knew a reply was in order. “I didn’t see you.”

“No. I kept out of the way. Upstairs,” he said, his intense gaze sweeping down her body.

“And now?” she asked, staring up into his face.

“I didn’t want you to think I’d missed your concert. I wouldn’t for the world, Alana.” He tugged on her hair. “You’re wrong about what you believe. I was an arse that night with Cook. Full of shite. The worst type of overbearing prick. I won’t ever do that to you again. I’m resigning from overseeing Orion.”

All the emotions that she’d locked away were ready to burst free. Way too easy without the barriers she’d erected in the past. She said the first thing that came to mind. “You are a complete jackass, Jon.”

“I’ll take it,” he said. “What else?”

“You suck at speaking your feelings. Absolutely. And not the good kind of suck.”

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Alana, give me a chance.”

The house lights went to black. The crowd roared and a stagehand stood in front of the group, laser flashlight in hand, ready to lead them to the edge of the curtain.

“It’s time,” she said. “I won’t go on unless it’s you who’s on top of my career.”

“Baby, there’s no place I’d rather be…than on top of you.”

“Then promise me. You’ll be the one who promotes Orion.”

“If you wish, yes. I’ll stay, even if it means I must learn to compromise.”

She laughed. “And everyone thought
El Nino
weather patterns were remarkable. By the way…I sent the signed contract to your office earlier.”

“You slay me, Ms. St. James. We can
talk
after the show.” He squeezed her neck, pulling her to him, and then lightly brushed her mouth with his lips.

“I can’t wait,” she ran her fingers down the row of buttons on his shirt, getting immense satisfaction as his stomach muscles tensed under her fingers and he inhaled rapidly.

“From the first moment we met…” Jon brought his hands up, bracketing her face between his palms. “I love you Alana,” he said, capturing the breath from her body all over again.

* * *

Orion’s performance sparked into overdrive levels. With new equipment, and Jon’s tech’s manning the control boards, the band soared as though in another rocking realm. Surreal. The stage design kept the lighting tightly focused and the huge space had the audience ensconced in darkness except for the flashing cellphones. Hard to keep track of front row fans. She couldn’t help but glance over to the side of the stage, every so often delivering a sassy line from one of their songs that reminded her of the man waiting in the wings. Each time her gaze connected with Jon’s, it was direct hit to her heart.

The entire concert was recorded, another last-minute surprise, and would be marketed for cable network broadcasting. After the applause died down and the band completed the encore, the group hustled off the stage. Alana exited last, and there was a bottleneck in front of her, behind the curtain. She wiped beads of sweat dripping down her face, hoping to peel her dress off her body sooner rather than later.

“Mr. and Mrs. St. James,” Christy said, and Alana stiffened. The backstage low lights were on and she moved to the side of her friend.

“Mom and Dad?” Alana murmured in a daze. They stood next to Jon, and beamed from ear-to-ear. Her father had lost more weight, but his wide grin made her chest tighten.

“Alana,” he said, “we are so proud of you,
menina
.”

Alana’s eyes stung at the endearment she’d not heard since she lived at home and had been in school. Her father held out his arms, and she rushed toward him, taking hold of her mother at the same time. “Alana, we’re so pleased to be here to see your performance. So many people. We are so impressed. Our little girl is a star!”

“Not yet, Mom,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you’re here. You didn’t say anything when I called.”

“It was a surprise,” her father said. “But it is we who are surprised. Happily.”

“Daddy,” she whispered, hugging her parents again. She stepped back and glanced over toward Jon. He nodded and blew her a kiss. She longed to tell him what swirled within her. He’d done the impossible.

Her parents described the crowd, and their favorite song, and how they’d heard Orion’s music on the radio. She glanced down and then up again, meeting Jon’s eyes. He smiled and she laughed, utterly intoxicated with joy.

“Thank you,” she mouthed, and crooked a finger to call him over to them.

“Mom, Dad, let me introduce the person responsible. May I present Jonathan Lansing.”

“Ah, we know him. Very well. Don’t we?” Her father slapped Jon on the back. “We played golf today. Last night Jonathan showed us the sights while you practiced. A lovely town, Nashville. Reminds me of back in Portugal, with the hills. No beach, but you can’t have it all.”

“
Menina
, Jonathan said you’re still taking voice lessons. Don’t you think she’s had excellent training?” her mother asked Jon.

Jon’s smile broadened and he placed his hand on Alana’s lower back. “Your daughter has a solid background in music, to your credit, Mrs. St. James.” Her mother flashed a smile of pride, already charmed by the devil himself standing beside her.

“Well, we’ve been invited to the
after-party,
and we know you want to get ready. So hurry,” her mother’s voice reflected her own excitement.

Alana squeezed Jon’s arm. “You’ve some explaining to do. I guess we both do. But thank you. For everything.”

“I’ve got your back. Always.”

She leaned over to her father. “Dad…Mom, I’ll be right back. Just a second.”

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. St. James.” Christy said, sliding up beside Alana. Her parents hugged Christy.

Alana turned to her friend. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

Christy burst out, “I thought I’d die with all the secrets I was carrying around.”

“You knew?” Alana asked. “Come with me.”

They walked down the hall to the dressing room. “I did. Jon asked me what your parents liked to do and told me why. I thought it was the sweetest thing. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but obviously he’s done a million things Tyler never, ever did for us. Please, Alana, give him one more chance. Men are goofballs.”