Make Me Stay (2 page)

CHAPTER 2

Kane

Why did the mornings have to come so fast? I stretched my stiffened arms over my head and hit bare flesh. Tilting my head I saw that I’d hit, a long, slinky leg. I watched as it moved under the covers. Facing the ceiling again, a wolfish grin spread across my face. I didn’t know who it was, or what happened last night, but that was just how I liked it.

Soft, warm fingers ran up the inside of my leg and suddenly, I was more than awake. A soft giggle came from under the covers as I sprung even more to life. Resting my hands behind my head, I lay back and enjoyed my morning entertainment.

Tossing the covers off us both, the lucky winner from last night was anxiously licking her chops to get a piece of me--again. I’ve never had a problem with women. They just flocked to me, I didn’t even have to try, really. I was living out every fantasy that I had ever imagined for myself. I spent my days working in construction--which helped with keeping in shape--then at nights, I was free to explore more intimate and sometimes, non-intimate, fantasies.

“Oh, yeah, Sarah that’s good, keep going,” I called breathily to her.

“My name’s Ashley,” she said through a full mouth.

“Oh, right, Ashley.”

Releasing me she sat up in bed.

Damn it
!

“You don’t remember my name? What about last night, you said--”

I cut her off before she could finish. “Listen, Ashley, I don’t remember anything I said last night, but what I do remember is you doing that amazing thing with your tongue.” I gestured to myself, all the while flashing a naughty grin.

She was completely naked. Her small chest was perky and asking for it. Black hair spilled down around her face, making her hazel eyes pop in color.
Damn, I did good last night.

“But you said--”

Sitting up, I held a finger over her lips. My current situation was begging for her to shut up and finish what she started, so I could “finish” and kick her the hell out. She should know the deal. I had a reputation to uphold, and no woman was going to attach herself to me, except to say that they had an amazing one night stand. Maybe I had a couple girls on rotation, but not this one. This one clearly wanted “more,” and I didn’t do more. The girls who were frequent visitors knew the rules--no snuggling, no cuddling, and definitely no relationships.

I almost had her reigned back in--my lips were presently making their way down her neck, my hand was cupping her perky breast, when out of nowhere my door flew open.

“Kane, come on. We got to get heading out, we need to practice before tonight, it’s already three.”

Jumping out of bed Ashley, or so she called herself, grabbed the covers and wrapped herself up. “Oh my God! Can’t you knock?” she yelled across the room at an unfazed JJ.

He gave her the once over, then turned back to me. “Nice one, dude. She looks good in the daylight too, might have to add her to the rotation.”

He wiggled his eye brows, and we started laughing. I watched as Ashley’s face turned all red. Holding the cover tighter to herself, she widened her eyes at me, begging me to kick JJ out, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, you want to be added on?” I asked.

Dropping to the floor, she grabbed her clothes and huffed into the bathroom behind her.

“I guess that’s a no. Better luck next time, bro,” JJ said. “Can you be ready to leave in thirty?” he asked, fixing his spiked up hair in the mirror that was hanging on the wall near the door.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

The bathroom door swung open, and Ashley stormed out fully dressed. I on the other hand was still sitting in bed, naked with no covers.

She paused at the end of my bed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but, here.” She tossed me a piece of paper and strutted to the door.

JJ and I both watched as her ass swayed past us and down the hall.

“You are one lucky bastard,” JJ called over his shoulder as followed her down the hall.

Unfolding the piece of paper, I found her name, number, and a little parting gift. She had kissed the paper and wrote,
Add me on for Tuesday nights
. Shaking my head, I crumpled the paper and tossed it in the wastebasket across the room.

I grabbed some clean clothes from my dresser and headed for the shower. As I waited for the water to heat up I checked myself out in the mirror. My hair was wild with curls and unruly from the previous night's escapades. The hairs on my face needed taking care of and as I lifted my head I noticed little sparkles as the light bounced off them. I'd do my best to get rid of them but they'd just be back tomorrow morning.

CHAPTER 3

Caroline

My first thought was, this place looked awesome. It was not at all what I had expected from the outside. My dad took my bags from me and placed them near one of the many tables.

“Pretty nice huh?” he asked.

There was a bar that traveled along the side and, where it ended, was an arched doorway that looked like it led to pool tables. In the very back was a decent sized stage, littered with drums, guitars, basses, and a key board.

It was your typical bar, but decorated really nicely. My father must have hired someone. There was no way he did this all on his own.

I nodded. “Wow, Dad, I’m impressed.”

Smiling in triumph, he took another appreciative look around. “It’s not too bad. I got it for practically nothing. Luckily, it came fully staffed. Kara, who you’ll meet later, is a godsend. This was all her idea. I just gave her the money to get it done.”

Kara?
My father had never mentioned her before. Then again, our conversations usually didn’t go into too much detail.
Is he dating her? Are they in love? I’m not sure I can handle that.
It had been close to five years since--had he moved on?
He’s a good man. He should be happy, and if this Kara makes him happy, then I’m going to have to like her, no questions.

Just then, the back door, which led to a hallway, opened. It slammed loudly against the wall. The bang of the door hitting, made me jump. “B, can you come give me a hand?” a squeaky female voice called from behind two large boxes.

My father smiled down at me. “I guess you can meet her now.”

The female voice dropped the boxes on the ground and brushed her hair out of her face.
Okay, I’m going to have to have a talk with my father.

Kara was young, or she had an amazing plastic surgeon. She was a petite blonde, who didn’t look a day over eighteen.
Great, no wonder my father is happy. He turned into a sugar daddy
.

She had on a cropped top that barely covered her boobs, and her jean shorts looked like she had swiped them from a cheese country music video. Flipping her head down, she grabbed all her hair and tied it up in a big floppy bun on the top of her head. A few loose, blonde strands fell around her face perfectly.
Yup, I’m going to have a talk with my father
.

“Kara, this is Caroline, my daughter.”

I tried to smile politely, but I had the most disturbing image in my head.

Kara smiled. “Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you. B won’t stop talking about you, like ever,” she said, reaching over the boxes to shake my hand.

“So, are you guys...”
Great, I’m too embarrassed to even say it.

She ripped her hand from mine, shook them both at her sides, and ran in place while shaking her head back and forth. “Ew, you think? That I’m? With?”

I had clearly made a huge mistake.

Kara looked over at my father, clearly confused. “B, what the hell? Why does your daughter think I’m dating you?”

My father turned all sorts of red. “Caroline Ann! I am not involved with her.”

Yeah, big mistake.
“I’m sorry, I just thought that--”

“Well, you thought wrong, honey. I like him, but not like that,” Kara said, laughing.

My father grimaced. “Well, now that we have that all taken care of, I’ll give a proper introduction. This is Kara, the manager. She started as soon as I bought the place and had some great ideas, because I was too stuck in the eighties, like this place used to be. Kara sold me on remodeling and things have been non-stop-busy since the day we re-opened.”

Clearly, this girl had some real talent with decorating. Why she was working at a bar was beyond me.

She seemed to squirm a little at his praise. “Well, it wasn’t all me--ah, who are we trying to kid? It was all me. This place was a pig pen before I came along,” she said, admiring her handy work.

“I’m so sorry. I kind of jumped to conclusions,” I said apologetically.

“Its fine. You weren’t the first person to think that. Your dad and I have been hot gossip since I started working here.”

There was another reason to make sure summer ended with me leaving--small town gossip.

Kara grinned at me. “It was great to finally meet you, but I have to get back to it. It’s going to get crazy in here tonight.”

Thinking back to the barren streets and closed shops, I frowned. Right then, I doubted anyone but my father and Kara even lived in this town. “Oh, okay,” I said, not believing her at all.

“Tomorrow won’t be as bad, so I’ll start training you then. Enjoy tonight and welcome.” Grabbing the top box, she walked off into the back of the bar.

“Hold on one sec, I’ll help you with these,” my dad called to Kara. He turned back to me. “I’ll show you the rest of the place and your room in a minute. I’ve got to help Kara with this stuff,” he said, taking the other box to follow Kara.

I stood there awkwardly by myself in the unfamiliar room. Light bounced off one of the symbols on the drum kit and caught my eye. I made my way to the stage and stepped up to get a better look. There was a name on the front of the biggest drum, ONS, all done in a cool calligraphy. Under that was the proper name One Night Stand. I guessed it was fitting, since they were playing at a bar called BJs and, apparently, you never left unsatisfied.

I took my time walking around all the instruments. The drums were nice. Tapping a holder for extra sticks, I was so tempted to grab one and go to town, but I held back. The keyboard looked extremely used, but it had more buttons on it than keys. The black, slick, base was propped up on one side of the stage. A guitar was a few steps away from that, and it was a beautiful electric blue color. I walked over to the guitar on the other side of the stage. I seemed drawn to it. The glossy red paint was beckoning me toward it.

I knelt down to get a closer look. Within the glossy red paint were very fine black words. They looked like song lyrics, but the closer I got, I realized that they were girls’ names. Appropriate, I thought, for a band named One Night Stand. The eight strings summoned me to run my fingers across them.

My index finger was mere centimeters from the tightly strung wires--

“You break it, you buy it.”

A male voice, warm and very close, made me lose my balance. In a rush, I tried to stand, but fell back and into the arms of the man behind me.

Hastily getting to my feet, I turned around to see the guy still flat on his ass. He pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them as he eyed me up and down

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch your guitar,” I said apologetically.

Of course, he had to be gorgeous. I wouldn’t knock over an average guy. “Well, it sure as hell looked like it,” he said, as his lips curled up in a smile.

“I said I was sorry. Won’t happen again--trust me.” I turned from him and prepared to jump off the stage.
What a jerk!

“You’re not even going to help me up?” he asked.

Four other guys came into view from around the corner.
Must be the rest of them, the One Night Stands
.

Rotating back to him, I held out my hand.

“Such a lady,” he said as he took hold of it.

I wanted to let go so he would fall on his ass again, but his grip was too tight. If I tried, we were both going down.

“Anything else?” I asked smartly.

Still holding my hand, he pulled me closer. The sudden intimacy made my stomach do a nervous flip. He was almost a head taller than me, so my eyes were dead even with his lips--plump lips, that were curved up in a wicked smile. This ass knew exactly what he was doing.

Pushing against his chest, I successfully put some space between us. “What’s your problem?” I demanded.

“What’s
your
problem? You’re the first woman to ever jump
off
my lap that fast. You into chicks?”

I can’t believe the nerve of this guy
. Rustling my hair in frustration, I couldn’t believe a human being who looked as good as he did could be so crude. His dark brown hair was wavy, unkempt, and swept off his face, but damn if it didn’t beg to be played with. He was tan and lean. He clearly took pride in his body. The cutoff shirt he had on gave him away. I unexpectedly got an image of him playing that beautiful guitar, the muscles in his fore arms and biceps moving under that tan skin, his fingers working the strings rhythmically--

Holy shit! I need to snap out of it.
I stared at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not into ‘chicks.’”

His smile reached his blue eyes and I found myself trying to remember why I was mad.

“You know for a fan, you’re pretty early. The groupies usually don’t start showing up till three hours before B opens,” he said, cocking his head.

“Groupies? Do I look like a groupie?”

He took that as an invitation to give me a once over.
Disgusting pig!

“Well, now that you mention it, you are a little over dressed.”

I glanced down at my skinny jeans and flip flops. The T-shirt I had on was thin but it was not see-through, thanks to its dark blue color. It was tight but not clingy, and the neckline was a simple U-shape.

Tucking my wild, curly, blonde hair behind my ears, I glanced over at my father, who was still helping carry large boxes in.

“Oh, I get it,” he said crossing his arms. “You like them older.”

“You are way off base, plus you’re a disgusting pig. Your ‘groupies’ must all be brain dead, if they follow you around.”