Leif took a lurching step forward. “God damn it.” His head dropped as he cursed toward the ground. “They might have been coming for me, Mia.”
He lifted his gaze, meeting my eye, a torment so stark in the depths that it nearly knocked me back into the wall.
“Chances are, this bullshit has everything to do with me.” Self-loathing oozed out with his words. “I won’t pretend like I have the first clue what is going down in your life, Mia. What you’re up against. The only thing you need to know is it doesn’t matter if they’re coming for me or for you. If anyone thinks about getting close to you? To your kids? Pray for them because I promise you, that will not end in their favor.”
Rage spiraled through his body. Barely contained.
I blinked, my head shaking. “You don’t owe me anything.”
He laughed a bitter sound, and he took another step forward, his voice a growl. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t just become my responsibility.”
“What does that even mean?”
His head shook, his expression grim. “You don’t know what vultures I might have just led to your doorstep. The bullshit I’ve been drowning in my whole life. If it followed me here? I’m out. But not before I’m certain there won’t be any bastards who come sniffing this way.”
I almost laughed. This was absurd. Absolute craziness. “I think we can be sure my life is a much bigger disaster than yours, and the last thing I can do is ask you to be my savior.”
It was bad enough I was here staying with Lyrik and his family. One day, and I was already questioning that decision.
Leif huffed out a laugh, something menacing and twisted in the rumbling sound as he took another step my direction.
The space between us shivered.
God, he was beautiful.
Terrifyingly beautiful.
His head tipped to the side. “I’m no savior. You can be sure of that. But I’ll gladly stand in the flames if it means keeping you from the fire.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He was in my space.
Invading.
Plundering.
Wrecking me without even a brush of his hand.
Oh, but then he did touch me, and that plundering turned into an all-out ravaging.
His hand slipped to my neck. Palm stretched out as he ran the tip of his thumb along the length of my jaw. Warmth streaked. A flashfire. And I knew without a doubt that I was the one who was standing in the flames.
“Like I said, you’re easy to read,” Leif murmured.
“And what do you see?” My question was shaky.
“Hope.” He edged in closer, intense eyes raking over me.
“Horror,” he continued, that thumb caressing.
He inched in until our noses brushed. His aura all around. Intoxicating.
Clove and the vestiges of whiskey.
“Hunger.” It was a grunt of need, his desire finally spilling free. “Tell me, what is it you are hungry for, Mia?”
There I was—right up against that crumbling ledge. I should scramble back. Rush for safety. But I stayed right there. At the mercy of his big, brutal hands.
“To feel something bigger than me. Something bigger than my circumstances. Something stronger than the grief and the hopelessness. You’re right, Leif. I want to feel hope. I want to feel peace. I want to feel wanted.”
He groaned, and his lips were on mine, no hesitation as he promptly pillaged my mouth.
His kiss was like candy. Crystallized brown sugar. Sharp as a knife.
His tongue tangled with mine in some war I didn’t know either of us were fighting. He groaned louder at the contact, a dark rumble of lust in his chest, and we were an instant mess of desperate mouths and clashing teeth.
He pushed me up against the wall and pinned me with that strong body.
Desire spiraled through every cell. So fierce I whimpered, and my fingers drove into his hair and raked down the sides of his neck before they sank into his shoulders.
Frantic to get him closer.
To quench this feeling that had infected me since the moment I’d seen him sitting in that corner. His draw a virus that had invaded my blood.
“Leif,” I begged, trying to get my legs around his waist, needing to feel his hard length I could feel pulsing from his jeans. He pressed himself to me, to that achy place that throbbed and begged. “Please. Make it better. Can you make it better, just for tonight?”
I thought he might be the only one who could take it away.
He pressed himself against me, grinding his hard cock against my belly. “Fuck . . . Mia . . . what are you doing to me? What are you doing? I can’t . . .”
Both of his hands found my waist the second he said it, and he tucked me against him in a forceful rock of need.
Desire slammed me in a rush of dizziness that I felt from head to toe. I shifted, begging for more. For reprieve. For him to erase our barriers. For him to fill me up and elevate me above it all.
To lift me to the stars.
His hand moved to cup my breast.
Pleasure shimmered and streaked.
He circled his thumb around my nipple.
I whimpered. “Leif. Why does it feel like I have known you my entire life? Like you’re a piece that’s been missing, and now that you’re here, I’m whole?”
It was a stupid, stupid confession. I knew it. But I had never been about playing games.
He groaned. Only this time it was in restraint, his breaths short and rasping as he forced our mouths apart. His harsh pants scraped the vacant space between us, and our foreheads rocked together as we heaved for the nonexistent air.
“Leif.” It was a plea.
He gave a sharp shake of his head as he curled his hands around my shoulders to peel himself off of me. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to go.”
“Please . . . don’t leave.”
He didn’t meet my eye when he tore himself the rest of the way free and stumbled two feet back. “God damn it,” he spat toward the floor as he quickly turned to face the opposite direction.
“Leif.” I touched his back.
He jerked, shoving off my hand, and he whirled back around. The disgust that lanced through his expression did little to conceal the greed that blazed in his eyes.
A violent, sparking fire.
“We can’t fucking do this, Mia. This can’t happen.” He jabbed his finger toward the ground.
“Why not?”
He laughed a bitter sound. “I already told you, Mia. Don’t you fucking get it?” he bit out. “I don’t have what you need. I see you. See right through you, and I am not that guy.”
“You don’t have any idea what I need.” My voice quavered. God, I wanted to scream. Punch him. Beg him to stop playing this game.
“No. Maybe I don’t. But one thing I do know? What you don’t need is me.”
Without saying anything else, he turned and stalked across the room and out the door, leaving me standing in the exact spot he had left me before.
My chest palpitated with a frenzy of convoluted emotions that careened through my body.
Need and anger and confusion.
This insane attraction that I was pretty sure was going to ruin me.
I couldn’t be this reckless. Wrapped up in a man who didn’t even want me.
Our intensity fire.
But where there was fire, there was ash.
Dust and debris.
And he was right.
The last thing I could afford was to be consumed.
Thirteen
Leif
“Here, here, assholes. You better be ready to make some magic because this boy can already feel it bleeding from his pores. It’s about to go down.”
Ash Evans grinned all his damned dimples while he plucked at his bass where he sat on a stool in the middle of the recording studio practice room. We were all down in the basement of the mansion Baz had purchased out
on Tybee Island, about thirty minutes outside of Savannah.
The house had belonged to their manager before they decided it would be better suited to host the bands that Stone Industries produced.
House boasted an expansive living space—kitchen and great room and offices—plus there were two master suites on the main floor and six on the top. Not to be forgotten was the killer studio on the basement floor.
But what really made the place unforgettable? It was the view of the ocean out back.
I doubted it took a whole ton of convincing to get bands to spend a couple months in this place.
“This coming from the asshole who we were waiting on for the last thirty minutes.” Lyrik tossed Ash a smirk as he hooked his guitar strap over his head and situated it on his shoulder. “Practice started at noon. Sharp.”
“I was busy.” Ash cracked a grin.
“Busy?” Lyrik was nothing but incredulous.
“Uh . . . I think you forget how hot my wife is. And I found myself in need of a little inspiration this morning. Don’t judge me. You’ll thank me later. Almost as profusely as I was thanking Willow. You wanted magic. Here it is.” Ash winked, all kinds of smug.
I had to stop myself from busting out laughing. Was pretty sure it went against protocol to laugh about a man’s girl, especially when I couldn’t exactly consider myself tight with the band.
But still, there was no missing the closeness—the complete easiness—that radiated between them.
Lyrik chuckled a wry sound and scratched his index finger at his temple, flashing the words on his knuckles of that hand that were inked with the word sing. “And you think it’s any easier for me to pry myself away from my wife? Sometimes we just gotta make the sacrifice.”
“All of you are pathetic,” Austin piped in from where he was flipping through a tattered pile of notebooks strewn across a grungy coffee table. “Won’t be more than two or three hours before your girls come over for the barbeque. Think you can handle it.”
Ash tossed a pick at him. Austin deflected it with a swat of his hand. “Dude. Are you for real right now? Your wife is in the room right next door, watching through the window on the couch. Talk about pathetic, man. She’s got you wrapped tight.”
“She’s just making sure I’m on key. Here to offer advice if we need it.” Austin shrugged in innocence.
“Liar!” Ash accused, pointing at him.
Lyrik laughed. “All right. All right. Can we just get this shit over with so we can get on with our day? Don’t think any of us want to be in here any longer than we have to be. Have better things to do.”
He raked his teeth over his bottom lip as he answered a text that was clearly from Tamar.
My eyes darted around to take in the three of them.
Just awesome.
I was surrounded by the love-fucked.
Was pretty sure they were split between the love of their music and the love of their wives. Loyalty pulling them in both directions, and they were balancing on a tightrope.
Understood it on a level that I wished I didn’t.
Loyalty.
Being tugged in opposite directions.
Fighting for both and knowing you were going to fail because you knew full well you were never destined for harmony.
Wanted to refuse the vision that clamored through my mind. Black hair and sable eyes. The taste of the girl lingering on my tongue. My fingers itching to get another feel of Mia West.
My guts were still twisted in knots of lust that I doubted could be undone any time soon.
The door jerked open and Baz strode in. He glanced around.“Everyone good? Need anything?”
Lyrik nodded. “Yup. All’s good. Want to run through a couple songs I’ve been working on getting down. Weave some shit in. Maybe we can test them out on a couple tracks in an hour or so?”
“Sounds good. Going to be upstairs on a call. Just holler when you’re ready for me or if you need anything.”
“We’ve got it,” Austin told him.
“Know you do,” Baz returned with a slight smile over his shoulder as he disappeared back out the door.
“Let’s do this. We might do things a little unorthodox, Leif, but I’m sure you can keep up.” Lyrik moved over to the sofa were Austin was sifting through the notebooks. He dug through, blindly pulling out one that was leather bound. “Been working on this one for a while. Like it . . . it’s got an edge that I’m going for. But there’s something missing. Something I can’t put my finger on.”
I glanced that way as he flipped it open to a page where a river of words had been scratched and slashed out and rewritten across the paper.
Incoherent.
A disjointed ramble that made no sense.
But I got that he knew. That he already recognized the words as his eyes dropped closed and he played a few chords.
The strains of a choppy melody filled the space.
Something seductive and dark.
Ash started to tap the toe of his Vans on the floor, head slowly bouncing in time before he started to pluck at the strings of his bass.
A new thread twined.
“You got a range on it, Austin?” Lyrik asked.
Austin began to hum, strumming quiet at the strings of his acoustic guitar. “Yeah. Think so.”
My attention darted between the three of them as I let their process seep in. Getting it.
Realizing this was the way their magic was made.
There was a reason Sunder was one of the biggest bands in the world.
Their style setting a trend that had begun years before and had never found its end.
Powerful and gritty and raw.
The melody curled around me.
A perfect storm.
A beautiful nightmare.
I didn’t know.
Only thing I knew was I felt it way down deep. Speaking directly to my spirit. I tapped my drumsticks against my thigh, letting the rhythm simmer and soak and become something fluid in my mind.
Couple of seconds later, Lyrik drove into a thrashing beat. Knocking us out of the quiet trance and catapulting us straight into the bedlam that was the music of Sunder.
Aggressive and hard and loud.
Austin climbed to his feet, his head thrashing as he found the rhythm. The lyrics choppy and sparse as he tried to make sense of them. As he tested the waters and brought them to life.
I caught onto it, let my sticks loose on the drums.
Got caught up in the raging beat.
Austin began to sing.
Are you lost?
How did we end up here?
I’ve been coming for a long time.
Gone in your eternity.
Now you’ve got me condemned in your sins.
Do you want me on my knees?
Now you’re up and gone.
Vanished without a trace,
And you’re still staring at my face.
Don’t know what to believe.
Questioning everything.
The song shifted from the screaming match that Austin was having with the mic, guy diving into the deep harmony, showing off the range of his voice.
Cause all you do is break me.
Fake me.
Bleed me.
And I don’t know what else I have to give.
Break me.
Fake me.
Lyrik stopped abruptly, his hand clanking down on the strings, feedback flooding the space while the fierceness continued to resonate against the walls.
Huffing, he raked a hand through his hair before he pointed at Austin. “That, right there. Chorus is off. Way fuckin’ off.”
He paced a couple steps, his head toward the ground, like he was gathering up the energy of an earthquake. Harnessing it.
“Lyrics or key?” Austin asked as he scratched something out on the page and scribbled something more.
There was no missing the connection that banged between the three of them.
Between us.
&nbs
p; Like I’d become partner to it.
Something brilliant. Feeling created out of nothing.
Enticed from the depths.
Pulled from memories and mishaps and miseries.
None here a stranger to them.
“Not sure,” Lyrik mumbled.
“Chorus needs a contrast,” I cut in. “She better be giving you something good if you’re going to put yourself through that,” I continued, letting a smirk ride free. Maybe I should keep my mouth shut, but I decided it wasn’t time to give a fuck. They wanted me here and I was here. Was gonna offer my opinion.
Lyrik’s attention swung my way. A grin pulled to the corner of the guy’s mouth before he was grabbing the notebook and tossing it my way.
“Have a go at it then, brother.”
I caught it against my chest with my left hand, snatching the pencil that came sailing at me with my right, somehow managing to keep hold of my sticks in the process.
I gave a tight nod, chewing at my bottom lip.
Contemplating.
Searching.
Catching the same vibe that Lyrik had been feeling when he’d penned these lyrics.
Resurrected from a reservoir that was an age old.
I tucked my sticks under my thigh, balanced the notebook on my forearm, pencil scratching across the page as I began to jot a twist in the words.
Cause all you do is break me.
Gut me.
Bleed me.
I’m cursed. Nothing left to give.
Spin my mind when you touch me.
Fill me.
Feed me.
I’m redeemed. All the reason left to live.
I tossed it back, and Lyrik glanced over it, smiling slow. “Ah, Leif here is a romantic.”
Denial blew from my mouth on a pulse of air. “Hardly.”
“Not to worry, man. I’m a firm believer you can’t be a good songwriter unless you’ve fallen in love and then suffered its end.”
My chest tightened. Painfully. In rejection. “They’re just fuckin’ words, man. Nothing more.”
Too bad words were the power of meaning.
* * *
“Killed it, Leif. Knew you were going to fit in just fine.” Ash clapped me on the shoulder as I wiped the sweat on my forehead with a hand towel. Skin drenched.
Kiss the Stars Page 13
