With Vengeance (12 page)

“Yup.”

“Wire me half of that.”

“Sure thing. When are you coming back?”

He ground his teeth.
When I’ve made her
pay.
Aloud he said, “Soon. I’ll let you know.”

Once downtown, he drove around looking for a
good bar. Kat’s reclusiveness had given him cabin fever. He needed
to get out, see people. So he settled on a place called The Hellion
that looked like it would play good music.

The club was all that it promised. With an
appreciative eye, Richard walked past the black walls plastered
with posters of metal shows past. The red lights gave the place a
nostalgic feel, like he was stepping back to the glory days of
metal, and some band was tearing up the stage with riffs and vocals
that were just above mediocre but held an energy that roused the
audience. Bobbing his head to the beat, Richard sidled up to the
crowded bar to get a Southern Comfort with Coke.

The bartender took his order, and the guy
next to him said, “Hey, that’s my favorite too. Cheers for good
taste.”

Richard looked over to give a nod, and his
jaw dropped. It was none other than Cliff Tracey.

He closed his mouth and thought frantically
about what to say. Thankfully, the bartender handed over his drink,
buying him some time.

“It’s on me, man,” Cliff told the bartender
before turning back to Richard with narrowed eyes. “Hey, you look
familiar. Do I know you?”

Fighting back nervousness, Richard replied,
“No, but I’m a big fan and honored to finally meet you. Thanks for
the drink.” He raised his glass in a toast. “I love the way you do
the two-handed slide. It’s subtle.”

Cliff clinked their glasses together. “That’s
cool you noticed. Do you play?”

“Yeah, but I’m between bands at the moment.”
Richard glanced around the bar and saw the British drummer at one
of the pool tables. “And I’m nowhere near as good as you.” He
tilted his head at the guitarist of the house band. “I’m better
than him, though.”

Cliff laughed. “What brands do you play?”

As they talked guitars, Richard had an
epiphany. Maybe instead of messing with the guy who was fucking
Kat, he’d get further if he befriended him.

Chapter Ten

Kat’s mind and body roiled with the
unpleasant high before the bad thoughts began to ebb away and
awareness flooded in. She was curled up on Klement Burke’s lap. The
solid warmth of his legs permeated the thin fabric of her dress.
Her cheek pressed against his chest, and she could hear his
heartbeat, a soft steady thump that seemed to anchor her while the
heat of his body seeped into her flesh, seeming to warm even her
bones. Her mouth twisted in a frown. Even her bones felt cold? When
the hell would this shit wear off?

His hands continued to caress her, one
sliding soothingly along her back and shoulders, the other stroking
her hair until she wished she could purr like a cat. God, it felt
so good to be in his arms. His embrace felt so safe, like a shelter
from a storm. He even smelled good, like sunshine and mountain air.
She had an almost undeniable urge to nuzzle her face in his neck,
to reach up and caress his hair. Only, the fear that he’d pull away
stopped her.

Then he massaged her right shoulder, where
the weight of her guitar strap dug in the heaviest. His fingers
worked magic. Rippling waves of gold-tinged pleasure reverberated
through her, from her shoulder down her back and all the way to her
toes. Her muscles felt like guitar strings, and he was playing her
like a song.

A moan escaped her throat even as her mind
spun. This pot cupcake was indeed potent to give colors to physical
sensations. However, since it wasn’t a bad feeling for once, she
was determined to roll with it. The cats leapt onto the couch and
curled up beside her and Klement, and their purrs added to her
comfort.

Klement continued to work at the tense
muscles until she was writhing on his lap. Suddenly, she felt a
hardness pressing against her ass. She knew what it was, too. So
she bit her lip in longing and shifted positions so it would be in
contact with her core, which was now pulsing in rhythm with the
shoulder rub.

Klement’s breath hissed through his teeth. He
stiffened, and his fingers stopped their exquisite ministrations.
Not wanting him to let her go, she rubbed her cheek against his
chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m starting to feel
better.” She looked up at him, studying his sharp cheekbones, the
line of his jaw, the curves of his lips. “Um, did you eat a
cupcake, too?”

“No.” His hand slipped down to her upper arm,
the touch hot but maddeningly unmoving. “I wanted to be sober
enough to drive.”

So, he was sober and still wanted to touch
her? Joy swelled Kat’s heart. But Klement also seemed somewhat
reserved.

Tentatively, she reached up to touch the
golden strands of his hair. She needed to keep talking before he
released her. Even if this was a terrible idea for both of them and
for the band, she couldn’t let this end. “When did you start
playing bass?”

“I actually played the mandolin first, when I
was five. It was my grandpa’s.”

“Five? Wow. Did your parents get you
lessons?”

He shook his head. “No, they were executives
of a marketing firm, so they were out of town most of the time
meeting clients and doing trade shows. Grandpa gave me a few
lessons while my sisters and I stayed with him and Grandma. Then he
let me take the mandolin home and I taught myself the rest. I got a
regular guitar for Christmas when I was ten and tried to get into
bands when I was fourteen, but everybody plays guitar so I learned
bass.” He smiled. “I like bass better anyway. It’s easier on my big
fingers.”

She glanced over at those fingers engulfing
her shoulder and licked her lips. They’d felt incredible on her
back and shoulders. How would they feel on her—? The thought
brought another flood of lust between her legs. Unbidden, her body
pressed closer to his.

Klement shifted, and they both stopped
breathing. Kat willed herself to escape the thick haze of desire
enough to focus on what he’d just been saying. Klement Burke, the
most mysterious member of Bleeding Vengeance, who’d never revealed
any personal information about himself in any of the interviews
she’d read, was opening up to her.

“So, you were alone a lot when you were a
kid,” she said softly. That explained so much. His need to always
be busy. His cars, his computers, his guitars, his countless
hobbies—they filled a void of loneliness. And maybe he’d picked up
all his talents in an effort to impress them, to gain their
approval and attention.

“Yeah. It’s like my parents had kids because
they were expected to, not because they wanted them. And I was a
difficult kid.”

He didn’t elaborate, but the catch in his
voice told Kat everything. Her heart ached for him. Despite her
father’s abuse, her mom was always there for her, stepping in to
take the beatings whenever she could. And when she wasn’t able to
intervene in time, she’d kept Kat home from school and they’d make
cookies together and watch movies. Sometimes she had even taken out
her violin. That had been the rare occasion indeed.

“Mom tried to teach me violin,” she told
Klement, still lightly playing with his hair. It was so silky. “She
was a prodigy and had a scholarship to Juilliard before she got
pregnant with me.”

“Really? That’s awesome. I mean about
Juilliard, not that she didn’t get to go.”

He sounded genuinely interested. All the
other guys she’d been with were bored when she talked about her
mom.

“Are you any good with it?”

“Good enough to satisfy a high school
orchestra teacher, but that’s about it.” Kat’s lips curved into a
smile as she remembered the look on her mom’s face when she tried
to play Megadeth’s “Gears of War” on the instrument. “In the end,
Mom followed my stepdad’s advice and got me a guitar when I showed
more enthusiasm for metal.”

Klement stroked her arm lightly, as if afraid
she would break. “I’m glad she did. And I’m sorry your stepdad
died. He sounds like a great guy.”

You’re a great guy,
she wanted to say,
but her throat was too tight from the painful memories, and the
dizziness from the pot cupcake washed over her once more, engulfing
her with that disturbing underwater feeling. Kat gripped Klement’s
arm as if he could keep her from drowning.

“How are you doing?” he asked softly.

“Not good. I feel all muzzy.” Her voice
croaked a bit. She was thirsty but didn’t dare move from the haven
of Klement’s lap.

He looked over at the clock. “It’s only been
an hour or so…” He let the words hang as if reluctant to point out
the obvious. She hadn’t even peaked yet. Which meant that the
“high” was going to get worse.

As if in confirmation, the cold returned. Kat
knew it was just a cool draft from the air conditioner, but it felt
like an icy blast that would kill her. Goosebumps rose all over her
flesh and the shaking returned.

“Cold,” she managed before her teeth started
chattering.

“I’ll turn the AC off.”

He began to move her, but panic welled up in
her once more. She grasped his arm like a lifeline. “No, please
stay. You’re warm…safe.”

“Okay.”

He wiggled around, jostling her as his arm
reached back and twisted. Just as she was about to ask what he was
doing, he covered her with the blanket that had been draped over
the back of the couch. A blissful sigh escaped her lips as she
nuzzled against his chest.

She didn’t know how long they stayed that
way, her curled in his lap, him lightly stroking her back, but
peace and gratitude for Klement’s kindness welled up within her for
what felt like an eternity until the compulsion to say something
was impossible to quell.

“Thank you for making me feel better.” She
opened her eyes and looked up at him, marveling that such a large
man could be so gentle. She was astonished at herself for never
noticing how truly handsome he was, either.

“I told you, it’s no big deal. Though, in all
my years as a stoner, I’ve just never seen anyone have such an
extreme reaction to this stuff.” He looked down at her, and his
expression changed from aching sincerity to amusement. He
laughed.

“What?”

“Your lipstick smudged a bit.”

The pad of his thumb brushed the skin beside
her mouth before straying to the edge of her lips. Her skin tingled
with pleasure at the feather-light touch, and tentatively she
reached up and traced his firm jaw line before curling a lock of
his hair around her finger. “Your hair is so soft. I…”

She lifted her chin slightly, and he bent
lower until his lips brushed hers. Or was it the other way around?
Kat didn’t care. Linking her arms around his neck, she pulled
Klement closer, needing more, needing
all
of him. The heat
of his kiss, its soft, delicate touch inflamed her senses, warming
her from the inside out.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips before
delving in to tangle with hers. Electric lust rippled through her
body, narrowing the world to Klem and only him. She returned the
kiss hungrily, reveling in this intimacy of which she had long been
deprived. Shifting on his lap, she straddled his hips, gasping in
ecstasy as his hardness pressed against her throbbing core. The
blanket slid off her shoulders and fell to the floor.

Suddenly, he broke away. A pitiful cry caught
in the back of her throat at the agony of unfulfilled desire, and
his voice came out low and husky.

“No, I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not right, not in the condition you’re
in.” His palm slid up to cup her cheek, the tenderness in his gaze
enough to undo her. “Besides, I’m too old for you.”

She raised a brow. “Shouldn’t you have said
that before you put your tongue in my mouth? Besides, you’re only
thirty-five.”

Klement’s eyes widened, and he stared at her
for the longest time before bursting out laughing. The sting of the
rejection eased as he wrapped his arms around Kat and held her
tight, and she laughed with him, a limited balm to her thwarted
desire. Alas, that ended as well when he carefully lifted her and
stood, setting her on her feet.

“Can you stand okay?”

Her legs wobbled for a moment, but she
steadied herself, not wanting to be seen as clingy. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

He turned around and reached down his pants
to adjust himself. Kat bit her lip as she imagined her fingers
gripping his hardness, feeling its sleek hot length against her
palm.

Klement turned back to face her, looking
embarrassed. “Well. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Her stomach growled, and her mouth suddenly
felt like the Gobi Desert. “How did you know?”

“Munchies are inevitable.”

In the end, she guzzled nearly a gallon of
water and ate an entire pint of strawberry cheesecake ice cream
that had been intended for Roderick. If there was any consolation
to her accidental drugging, it was that the food tasted so damn
good. That, and Klement’s embrace had been pure bliss. It would
almost be worth gobbling another cupcake if he’d kiss her
again.

“What’s so funny?” he asked as she
giggled.

“Nothing.” She scraped the last bit of ice
cream out of the container and licked her spoon, and he gave her
another assessing look, as if to make sure she was still doing
okay.

“I was thinking of heading up to the music
room, taking a bong hit and messing around with my bass. Want to
join me?”

She nodded slowly, hoping the movement
wouldn’t make her dizzy again. “Okay, but I don’t want a bong
hit.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough.”

She followed him up the stairs and once more
gaped with uninhibited delight at the guitars hanging from the
walls. The bubbling noise from the bong seemed to vibrate across
her skin, too, making her laugh.