All of us blink at him in stunned silence.
“Are you serious?” Fox is the first one to speak.
Hayes grins. “As a heart attack. It’s finally happening.”
“Fuck, yeah!” I shout, fist bumping my guys. “We’re fucking doing this shit.”
I feel my heart stutter in my chest with fear but mostly excitement. We’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long, building it up in our minds to the point it seemed like it would never actually happen—that it was a dream way too far out of reach, some kind of make believe.
Even with the singles we’ve had reaching moderate success, playing clubs, and festivals … it was exciting, but none of it compared to where we hoped to soar.
This shit is happening now.
I rub my hand over the stubble on my face. I seriously need to fucking shave. I’ve been at Kira’s all weekend, so it wasn’t like I could then, and when I stopped by the hotel this morning I didn’t have time.
“This is a big deal for all of you and me too,” Hayes says, steepling his hands beneath his chin and resting his elbows on his legs. “Your success is mine—it proves I wasn’t crazy to take on this venture with all I have going on with my own band. It premieres at eight in the morning and most stations will be playing it throughout the day. I hope you guys are ready.”
“For what?” Cannon asks, but I already know what Hayes is going to say before he does.
“For your lives to change. They’ll never be the same after this.”
7
Kira
Rush’s hand is warm against mine as he pulls me onto the dance floor of the club.
Now that I’m better, we both wanted to get out for the night. Going to a club meant driving into D.C. but neither of us cared. I think we both needed drinks, dancing, and to let off a little steam.
It’s Thursday evening, and normally I would never go out on a school night since I have classes tomorrow—but I needed to let loose. Being cooped up in my house, blowing my fucking brains out through my nose hasn’t been my idea of fun.
“God, you look fucking sexy,” he murmurs in my ear, head bent low as we bleed into the crowd. He twirls me around so my back is to his front. His hands settle dangerously low on my hips, his big hands closing around my narrow waist.
The song playing is loud, the lights blinking different colors with every change of the beat.
I grind my ass into Rush and I hear him hiss between his teeth.
This is the longest we’ve gone without sex since we started our arrangement. It almost feels like starting all over again. I know it doesn’t make logical sense but that’s how I feel.
His hands move up my body, stopping beneath the swell of my breasts contained in a tight-fitting black dress. My dark hair hangs in loose waves and I spent a good hour doing my makeup—a gray smoky eye and red lip. I wanted to feel girly tonight.
Hanging around in my pajamas hacking up a lung is not for me.
But this, going out, dancing, living it up … this is what I live for.
Rush moves his hips against me to the beat of the song, and fuck can the man dance. He has this natural ability to feel the beat in his bones and move to it without a second thought. Maybe it comes from being a drummer, or maybe it’s him. I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, either way it’s sexy as sin.
He flips me around so I’m facing him and I wind my arms around his neck. Normally it’s hard to do, but in my stilettos the distance isn’t nearly as far.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Kira. A goddamn temptress.”
One of his hands makes a sensual stroll down my side, stopping when he reaches my bare thigh. Ever so slightly his fingers inch under my skirt.
He presses his forehead to mine. “I want you,” he growls in a sexy rasp that sets my body aflame.
“Then have me.”
He kisses me roughly at my words, stealing my breath.
His tongue finds its way into my mouth, tangling with my own. Fuck, he’s an expert kisser, possessing much more skill than most of the men I’ve kissed in the past.
There was one who I swore was going to drown me in his saliva.
It wasn’t fun at all.
But Rush? Kissing, fucking, all of it is always fun with him.
Except when he takes care of me when I’m sick—that’s just weird.
I still can’t wrap my head around the way he stayed and tended to me while I was at my worst. He didn’t have to do it, but he did, and as weird as I still find it, I can’t deny it wasn’t sweet.
Sweet seems like such a weird word to associate with Rush, but he was.
He bites my bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and all my thoughts about the weekend flee my mind. It doesn’t matter, and his motives don’t either, this right now is all I need to focus on.
He kisses me until I’m aching and desperate for him to touch me, to make me cum. I need to tear at his clothes and have him fuck me raw.
I need to unleash this side of me in order to feel in control.
He drags me off the dance floor and we weave through the crowd. His eyes scan every available area for what he wants.
Finally he finds a darkened corner and turns to me.
“Can you be quiet while I fuck you?”
“Yes,” I snap, slightly offended.
He grins. “Liar—but you moaning my name for everyone to hear is part of the appeal.”
I squeal as he tugs me into the dark alcove. There’s a small countertop, cabinets, and a mini-refrigerator. I don’t know what it’s meant for, and frankly I don’t care, but it’s incredibly open to the public.
We’ve fucked in his truck, my car, in his hotel room against the window, in the ballroom of the hotel, and God knows where else that I might be forgetting in my lust induced haze, but this is definitely the most open. The music still blares at a headache inducing level, and we haven’t escaped the flickering multi-hued lights.
I swallow thickly, feeling nervous, but despite my nerves my nipples pebble beneath my dress and I feel wetness pooling between my legs from the idea of it all.
I have to admit, I’ve learned why Rush enjoys this—the threat of being caught, the idea of being seen, of someone watching you have sex … it’s very arousing in a way most things aren’t.
It’s dangerous, maybe that’s why it appeals to him—to me too.
His big hands settle low on my waist and he pushes me against the wall, tucking us into the corner, so we’re more hidden, but far more exposed than I’m used to. He’s large enough that if anyone would stumble across us I’m mostly out of sight.
My breath stutters as he kisses my neck. I curl my fingers into his blond hair as his fingers slip under my dress, pushing it up my hips. He pushes my underwear to the side and rubs his fingers against me.
“So wet already,” he growls lowly. “This excites you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I pant, feeling his hardness press into my inner thigh.
“This is going to be quick and rough,” he warns in a raspy tone that makes my knees weak.
“Shut up and fuck me.”
He chuckles huskily, grabbing a condom from his pocket. Between us I undo his belt and free him from his jeans. I stroke his long hard cock and he hisses between his teeth.
“Fuck, Kira. I want you.” He presses his forehead to mine, one hand against my cheek as he guides my head back.
He slips the condom into my hand and I rip open the packaging, rolling the condom on him.
I let out a small cry as he thrusts into me, not entirely prepared for the intrusion.
He holds me against the wall with his hands on my legs, his fingers digging in roughly, with my legs wrapped around his waist.
I do my best to quiet my noises of pleasure but it’s difficult.
We’re close enough to the dance floor I can only hope it helps drown out the sounds of our fucking—skin smacking against skin.
Rush covers my mouth with his, silencing a moan I desperately need
to release.
“Quiet, Kira,” he commands in a low voice against my ear. I can feel him smile, because he knew despite my protests I wouldn’t be able to silence my pleasure.
I bite down on my bottom lip so no noises can escape.
My nails claw against his shirt, desperate to hold on to something, to anything, that might keep me from floating away.
“Let go, Kira,” he whispers huskily. “I’m almost there and you are too, I can feel it.”
I whimper, scared to reach that point.
He presses the back of his hand to my mouth. “Scream as loud as you want. Bite my hand if you need to. It’s okay to let go, I have you.”
A moment later there’s no more fighting my impending orgasm and it rolls through me so powerfully I do bite his hand. The lure of getting caught makes my orgasm thunder through me, pulses of aftershock making my legs shake around him.
His cock twitches inside me and he groans through his own orgasm.
We stay locked in position, waiting for feeling to return to our limbs before he sets me down and we both work to right ourselves. He tosses the condom in a nearby trashcan and tucks himself back into his pants.
He stares at me for a moment, a bead of sweat above his lip, and before I can blink he grabs my face between his hands and crushes my mouth beneath his. Releasing me, he rasps, “You’re making me fucking crazy.”
“W-What do you mean?” I stutter, taken aback.
He shakes his head and steps away from me. He rubs his jaw like he’s utterly confused and after a moment he murmurs, “I don’t know.”
It’s an honest answer, I can see it in his deep blue eyes, and I’m terrified of what it truly means.
8
Rush
I shake Kira’s shoulder in a desperate attempt to wake her.
“What?” she grumbles. “We fucked at the club and twice more when we got back here. My vagina needs a rest you fucking fiend.”
I smack her bare ass where the sheet has dipped down.
“As delightful as another round sounds, that’s not why I’m waking you up.”
“Then why?” she groans, not opening her eyes. Her lips are pouted with sleep that still clings to her.
“We’re going to get breakfast and then we’re going to sit in my truck and listen to the radio.”
“Why the fuck would we do that?” She cracks open one brown eye.
“Because,” I draw out the word slowly and dramatically, “our song is premiering on the radio today.”
She sits up so fast her head bumps my chin and I back out of her way.
“Are you serious?” she blurts, her eyes wide. “You guys are going to be on the radio today?”
“Well, our song.” I shrug like it’s not a big deal, but it is. Fucking huge, really. We’ve never had one of our songs make it onto the mainstream radio.
“That’s … wow, Rush. Um … just give me a few minutes to throw something on.”
“Sure,” I reply.
She disappears into the bathroom and I quickly pull my clothes on from the night before.
Within ten minutes Kira is ready in a tight pair of jeans that hug her ass and a plain gray sweatshirt that somehow is sexy as fuck even with it hiding her shape. She has her hair tossed up in a messy ponytail and fuck I want to take it out and run my fingers through the strands.
She turns to the mirror above her dresser and swipes some kind of red lipstick on.
“I’m ready,” she declares, turning back to me. I stare at her hungrily. She huffs out a breath and rolls her eyes. “Can you stop looking at me like I’m a snack?”
I suppress a laugh. “I can’t help it you’re sexy as fuck.”
She shakes her head at me and grabs her bag. “Let’s go. You’ve got me out of bed, now feed me.”
“So demanding,” I joke, and we go outside to my truck.
She hops inside, wiggling her ass as she struggles.
“Stop staring at me,” she says, not even looking my way.
“How do you know I’m watching you?” I ask, laughter in my voice.
“Because you love looking at my ass.”
She manages to right herself into the seat and pull the door closed. With a shake of my head I walk around the front of the truck and climb into the driver’s seat.
There’s a diner not far from here—we could actually walk, but since Kira’s just getting over a cold I’m not about to let her get chilled.
Since it’s early I manage to snag a spot right in front. I hop out and feed some quarters into the meter.
Kira opens her door and I hold out a hand to help her down and she stares at it for a moment like it’s going to bite her.
“Kira,” I say and her eyes lift up to meet mine, “why are you so afraid of my hand?”
She squirms a bit. “It’s not your hand … it’s what it represents?”
I suppress a laugh. “What exactly does it represent?”
“Familiarity.”
“Is … that a bad thing?” I ask, raising a brow.
She swallows thickly. “I don’t want to get too comfortable with you.”
“Why?” I ask, slightly offended as she gets out, ignoring my hand. I let it drop to my side cold and lifeless without her touch.
“Because this isn’t permanent, and we don’t want it to be. You’re going to go back to L.A. at some point and we’ll both be nothing but a memory to each other.”
“Is that you really think? That we’ll never see each other again? Need I remind you my best friend is in love with your best friend—and he’s in it for the long haul, which means weddings and babies and all that shit, so Kira, I’m sorry to inform you but chances are you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” she says, as I open the door to the diner and usher her inside. It’s a tiny hole in the wall place but the food is fucking amazing. It’s one of those hidden gems you can only find in a small town like this.
“Really, because it sure seems that way,” I say, as Kira pulls out a chair at the table by the window.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” She rolls her eyes as I take the seat across from her. “You’re such a drama queen.”
I sigh heavily as the waitress comes by to give us menus. “You act like I’m a fucking leech or something,” I hiss under my breath as the waitress leaves to tend to another table. “I’m as opposed to relationships as you are, but I would think we could at least be friends.”
She snorts, the sound laced with disbelief. “Rush, I highly doubt you’ve ever been just friends with anyone of the female gender.”
I glower, unable to help my reaction. “Maybe not in the past, but it doesn’t mean I can’t change.”
She levels me with a doubtful look.
“I like sex,” I admit. “I like women. I like fucking. But that doesn’t make me a bad guy. I’m open about what I want. It’s not a secret. I don’t feel like I deserve to be punished for liking you, Kira. I don’t want you to be my girlfriend, and you don’t want me to be your boyfriend, and that’s fine. But there’s no rule that says we have to hate each other.”
“Maybe there should be,” she says, looking down at her menu even though I know damn well she gets the same fucking thing every time.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I spit, anger lacing my words.
She breathes out heavily and lifts her eyes to mine.
“I just mean … we’ve been doing this for a while. Maybe…”
“Maybe what?” I prompt with more bite to my words than I intend.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head.
“If you want to fuck someone else I won’t stop you.” I mean it, but the idea also pisses me off. I won’t stop her if it’s what she wants. I’m not that guy.
Her mouth works back and forth. “That’s not what I want. I’m worried that this is becoming too easy—us, hanging out. It’s more than sex now.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
Normally I’d be running at a full sprint in the other direction at the fear of attachment, but with Kira … we’re similar, and I guess I like spending time with someone who understands me without saying a word.
“Not as long as we both understand this will never be anything but what it is.”
I smile at her. “Don’t worry, Kira. I won’t fall in love with you.”
I mean the words, I truly do, but in the back of my mind a little voice tells me if I ever were to fall in love, she’d be the one.
We finish our meal in tense silence and get in my truck.
I don’t want to be irritated with her, she’s done nothing but speak the truth, but now I’m worried she might have a point.
What if this is becoming too easy? Too safe?
Neither of us likes commitment, maybe we would be better off to go our separate ways, but I don’t want to, and I don’t believe she does either.
I guess we do our best to remember this is sex, nothing more, but that doesn’t feel right either, because she is different. This is different. It might not be a real relationship but we’ve grown close and I actually enjoy her company.
Fuck, I’m seriously overthinking this whole thing, letting her words eat their way under my skin.
I start the truck and glance at the time. It’s five minutes until eight.
My stomach dips with anticipation.
I’m excited, nervous, and worried all in one.
This is a big fucking deal and I can only hope our first single goes over well. Midnight Eyes is closer to a ballad than anything else and there’s no telling how it’ll perform in the mainstream. It’s nerve-wracking as fuck waiting to hear what people think. I might not care what people think of me, but I sure as fuck care what they think of my music and band.
I turn the volume up on the radio and Kira sits quietly beside me. I think she can sense my nerves.
This is huge.
Fucking monumental.
I watch the clock, my heart beating faster with every minute that ticks closer to eight.
“It’s going to be great,” Kira says, for a moment drawing my attention from the clock.
Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2) Page 8
