With Vengeance (13 page)

Klement blew out a cloud of smoke and raised
a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“The sound tickled.” She giggled again at the
absurdity of it all.

He shook his head and took another hit,
chuckling when it made her laugh again. Smoke came out of his nose,
and she laughed even harder. But when he picked up an acoustic Dean
Bass and began plucking a poignant melody, her amusement faded to
bliss.

She could feel the notes undulating down her
spine. The sight of his fingers dancing across the strings made her
remember how they’d felt on her body, and naughty thoughts filled
her mind as she imagined what they’d feel like on her breasts,
between her thighs… She shook her head. There was no need to
torture herself with fantasies she couldn’t achieve.

Closing her eyes, she let the music take her
on a magical journey as it had when she was a kid. Once more, it
engulfed her imagination, transporting her to new worlds of
emotion.

Klement struck a last chord, which vibrated
away to a hollow emptiness that pressed around Kat. She opened her
eyes, about to ask him to play another song, when her eyes alit on
a gorgeous double-necked six- and twelve-string guitar. How had she
never noticed it before? The need to create had come over her
suddenly, like a junkie’s craving.

She pointed. “May I?”

His lips curved up into a smile that she
stared at too long. “Of course.”

When she slid the long strap over her
shoulder and settled the cumbersome guitar on her lap, Klement
grinned again and shook his head. “That thing looks enormous when
you’re holding it.”

“It
is
enormous!” She stuck her tongue
out then, grabbed a pick from the side table and began to play.

Even though her first notes on the
twelve-string were awkward and out of time, they still felt good,
and when she got the hang of the instrument and began to play an
actual tune, there was an echo of pleasure that reminded her of
Klement’s kiss. He joined in with his bass, turning her melody into
an actual song. It felt like they were embracing again, only this
time with sound instead of touch. Like a hypnotic dance, her riffs
mingled with his bass line, seeming to tease the limits of the
stratosphere.

Kat peeked at him from beneath her lashes.
He’d been so kind, his touch was sublime, and they made beautiful
music together.

If she wasn’t careful, she could fall in love
with him.

Chapter Eleven

Klement closed his eyes, seeming to taste the
new song they were creating. It was rich and evocative, like Kat’s
kiss. But it was also somber—and surprisingly good for them just
playing around.

Still playing, he carefully reached over and
turned on his recording system. This might be useful for Lefty’s
song. But the magic drizzled away and Kat started messing up
notes.

She sighed and lifted the guitar strap over
her head. “I’m sorry, I gotta quit. The fuzziness is coming
back.”

Klement set his bass back on its stand,
frowning with concern. “Do you feel panicky?”

“No, thank God, but I still feel really
fucked up.”

Hands shaking, she slowly returned the
double-necked guitar to its place. Klement struggled to think of
something safe they could do, something that would keep her mellow
yet still avoid tempting him.

“We could watch a movie.” The bong hit had
mellowed him enough that he could sit for a little while, and maybe
if his attention were on the screen, he’d quit obsessing about the
feel of her lips.

“That sounds good. Do you have any horror
movies?”

His jaw dropped with pleased astonishment.
“You like horror?” He’d loved horror movies since he could remember
and had a collection that made his fellow film buffs seethe in
envy.

“They’re my favorite.” Her head cocked to the
side as her mouth twisted with a thought. “Except for most slasher
films, because some dumb chick running around in a nightgown and
screaming her head off for ninety minutes bores the hell out of
me.”

“Are you sure they won’t have a bad effect in
your state?” Klem asked with growing concern.

Those lush lips curved into an impish grin.
“Not if you have one of the good cheesy ones.”

They headed back downstairs, and he showed
her to the theater room where she immediately exclaimed over his
DVD and Blu-Ray collection. When she eventually settled on
Army
of Darkness
, Klement nodded in approval. He could definitely
fall for this woman if he wasn’t careful.

He popped some popcorn and grabbed a fleece
blanket to keep her shivers at bay. And even though there was
plenty of room on the tiered sectional couches, he couldn’t resist
sitting next to her.

They laughed at Bruce Campbell’s schlocky but
endearing performance and cracked jokes about Ash’s seeming
invincibility. As they did, Klem mentally relived how Kat had felt
curled up in his lap, the way her small, lithe fingers had tangled
in his hair, her soft moans of pleasure as he’d kneaded the tense
muscles of her shoulder. And that kiss. He couldn’t remember who’d
started it, but
God
, he didn’t think he’d ever experienced
anything that potent. She’d tasted just like chocolate and
happiness…if happiness had a flavor. Just the simple sensation of
her mouth pressed against his had drowned his mind in a sea of heat
and tremors of raw desire, a forbidden fantasy come true and
promising more.

But she was fucked up on cupcakes he’d made.
He’d nearly lost all ability to think when she’d moved to straddle
him, her hot core pressing against his throbbing erection, but when
his hands began to slide under the flimsy fabric of her dress his
conscience finally reared its head. This would be like taking
advantage of a drunk girl, only worse, since it was his fault she
was in the state. He might as well have given her a roofie.

Still, it had been agony to break away, to
disengage her from the aching source of his need. Hell, even now,
with her innocently seated beside him, munching on popcorn and
snuggled under a blanket, the urge to yank her back into his arms
and carry her to bed was restrained by a thin leash.

That way lay madness. Even when she sobered
up, things couldn’t go further between them. If Kat performed well
at Thrashfest—and Klem had little doubt she would—there was a good
chance she’d be in the band for good. A colleague, a coworker. One
they desperately needed. Hell if he was going to fuck that up by
getting into a relationship with her and have it ruined by
inevitable heartbreak. Almost every woman he’d ever dated
eventually dumped him for some singer—or because they thought he
was crazy with his constant need to be working on a million
projects.

Hell, that was probably another thing. He was
too busy and neurotic to be a good boyfriend. He’d probably lost
some of those earlier girlfriends through sheer neglect. He was
twitchy, he talked to himself, and his attention wandered all over
the place. His mother’s litany of his flaws rattled into his mind.
Kat deserved better than that. And even if she didn’t think he was
nuts, even if her infatuation with Cliff might have cooled, there
would be plenty other front men at Thrashfest. And she’d definitely
draw eyes in return.

She tapped him on the shoulder, breaking off
his shudder. “You need to have some of this popcorn before I eat it
all.”

He grabbed a handful and turned his attention
back to the movie.

Ash was shooting up more undead monsters with
his “boomstick,” and Klement gave a laugh. “I’ve always wondered
where he was hiding ammo for all those shells.”

Kat grinned. “S-Mart has an infinity
ammo–model shotgun, I think. It’s on the same aisle as the infinite
fuel chainsaw.”

In unison, they quoted, “‘Shop smart. Shop
S-Mart!’”

They laughed and made jokes through the whole
movie. Klement couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much
fun. So, although he couldn’t get involved with Kat, he took some
comfort in the fact that they could at least be great friends.
Greater than they’d been as IT Guy and the website manager over the
phone.

“How are you doing?” he asked her when the
credits rolled.

“Still woozy, but I’m starting to feel more
like myself.”

“That’s good.” He’d hated seeing Kat suffer,
especially when it was his fault. “Do you want to watch another
movie?”

“Totally! I’m torn between
Thankskilling
and
Night of the Demons Two
.”

He laughed. “Both are really punny.”

After settling on the latter, she rested her
head against the side of his bicep. He couldn’t hold back a grin.
Even sitting, she was too small to reach his shoulder. Unable to
resist, he reached out with his free hand to brush a lock of hair
from her cheek.

The door abruptly opened, flooding the cozy
dimness of the theater room with sobering light. Klem and Kat
sprang apart just before Cliff and Roderick came in, and Roderick
plopped down beside Kat and grabbed her popcorn.

“Ooh, you’re watching
Night of the Demons
Two
? That one is bloody hilarious. I prefer the first one,
though.”

“Damn it!” Cliff cradled a bag of chips under
his arm. “I wanted to play
Call of Duty
.”

Klement shook his head. “You can still do
that on the TV in the living room, or the TV in your room.”

“Yeah, but I like the big screen and sound
system in here.” He sat down next to Klement and opened a bag of
Cheetos. “This movie is fucking stupid.”

Kat frowned. “That’s the point.”

“But—”

Klement changed the subject before Cliff went
back to complaining about wanting to play video games. “So, how’d
the night go?”

“All right, I guess. There weren’t many
chicks, so I hung out with this guy named Rick and talked guitars.
Rod hustled a lot of pool. Anyway, Rick was pretty cool and seemed
to know his stuff. Maybe he can come out here and jam with us
sometime.”

Klement saw Kat give Cliff a worried look.
Did she think he was pushing to replace her? Not gonna happen.

“You know I don’t like having strangers
here,” he said. “But you can hook him up with a backstage pass to
Thrashfest or something if you want.”

Cliff shrugged. “Okay.”

Despite his complaint about the movie, Cliff
stayed and watched anyway, making wisecracks with the rest of them.
The whole thing was fun, but Klement selfishly preferred when it
had been just him and Kat.

After
Night of the Demons Two
was
over, Roderick threw on one of the
Leprechaun
movies, but
Kat must have had enough because, not twenty minutes in, her head
flopped back against Klement’s arm. She was asleep.

Roderick glanced over and chuckled. “How was
she?”

“What?” Klement looked up sharply. Did he
think he’d slept with her?

“The cupcake she ate. She didn’t look so good
when we left.”

“Oh. She felt like crap for about an hour,
and then we jammed a bit before watching movies. I still feel
terrible for not telling her about them, but it ended up okay.” He
did his best to sound nonchalant. “She did eat all of your
cheesecake ice cream, though.”

“Bloody hell.” Roderick laughed. “I wanted
that for breakfast!”

“I’ll get you more.”

The drummer shrugged. “It’s all right. I’m
glad she’s okay.”

Cliff glanced over. “She got the munchies and
passed the hell out. Sounds like a good night.”

“Yeah,” Klement said. “And I’m about to pass
out as well. I gotta get started on her car tomorrow.” He tapped
her shoulder to try to wake her. “Maybe you should go to bed,
Kat.”

She mumbled something incoherent and nuzzled
his shoulder.

Cliff laughed. “She’s out cold.”

Carefully, Klement shifted her from his arm
stood to lift her. She felt so light and fragile in his arms…and so
right.

“You taking her to her bed or yours?” Cliff
asked. At Klement’s dark look he held up his hands. “Just kidding.
I get it. No poaching on the new guitarist. I’ll treat her like one
of the guys from now on.”

Roderick laughed. “Right. I’ll believe that
when I see it.”

As Klement tucked Kat into the guest bed, he
shook his head at the irony. He’d admonished Cliff and Rod to treat
her like a colleague, yet tonight he’d done nearly the furthest
thing from. And even with the awareness of his own hypocrisy
looming over him, he still couldn’t refrain from kissing her on the
forehead on his way out.

***

Kat awoke from a muddied dream in which she
was being attacked by zombies throwing cupcakes at her until
Klement carried her off to safety riding a giant chainsaw on
wheels. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, blinking dumbly at the
sunlight streaming through the windows. It took a moment for her to
remember where she was and what she’d been doing last night.

That fucking pot cupcake. She’d been so
messed up she didn’t even remember going to bed.

“Oh God, I hope I didn’t make too much of an
ass of myself,” she croaked.

Her throat was parched, so she grabbed a
glass of water by the bed and chugged the whole thing as she tried
to piece together the previous evening. She remembered being
unreasonably cold and having what seemed like every bad thought and
memory in her head dance before her eyes. She remembered Klement
pulling her into his lap and comforting her…

She remembered
kissing
him. Or had he
kissed her?

Or had she hallucinated? After all, she did
have a vague memory of seeing purple bugs crawling on the
walls.

Kat shook her head. No, the memory of the
kiss lacked the fuzziness of the hallucinations. And the rest of it
soon came back: her straddling his lap and gyrating on him like a
crazed lust-demon. Him disengaging, moving her off of his lap.