Backlash (Winter's Wrath #1)

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Backlash (Winter's Wrath #1) Page 18

by Bianca Sommerland


  “Poor baby.” Brave gave the rhythm guitarist a wry grin, shaking his head. “Let’s do this!”

  And just like that, the mood had shifted. Alder started the intro to Hoobastank’s, Crawling in the Dark, letting the notes drift off as he waited for a nod from Brave to tell him he had the right song. As he continued, cutting the notes into a heavier riff with the band’s unique sound, Tate broke in with a wild beat that seemed almost out of control, but as Connor came in with the rhythm and Malakai filled in the bass, the rough, gritty sound came together.

  The cover played homage to the original, but added a depth of emotion leaning more towards rage than pain.

  Together, the band let their anger and frustration out with the music. Hopefully leaving it where it belonged.

  Chapter Eleven

  Standing in the center of the stage, Danica looked out at the expanse of the Wiltern Theater, the pounding of her heart loud enough to fill the silence. Excitement and fear swirled together in her stomach, making her damn happy she’d skipped lunch. She wasn’t sure if she was going to be sick or pass out.

  Strong arms came around her from behind, and her whole body reacted to the comforting presence like she’d just been given a warm injection of tranquility. She didn’t even have to look to know it was Alder holding her. He made her feel like no one else ever had. Desired, safe, and precious. And other things she had no words for, but they were…well, as he would put it, “Fucking amazing.”

  When they’d gotten to the venue, he’d kept an eye on her, but she’d managed to play off her apprehension for the most part, and the band had stepped off the bus and gotten straight to work. Security had arrived—not the ones from Horizon that kept the crowd under control during the show, the new ones Cole had hired—and the head of security had taken the guys aside to explain the new policies he was implementing to keep them safe.

  Danica had been dragged off by the stylist Sophie had called in to have her hair and makeup done, so that had given her a break from freaking out about the show. Being plucked and primped and painted were familiar. Even the discomfort of being laced into the red satin and black leather over bust corset Sophie had sent over for her was nothing new. The micro-mini leather skirt looked more suitable for a lingerie runway than a heavy metal show, but the stylist had been equipped with Youtube videos of other band’s live performances from Sophie to silence any objections Danica might have.

  So she didn’t bother protesting, but as soon as the stylist was done with her, she’d made her way to the stage to get her bearings.

  And until Alder had joined her, she’d been terrified.

  He pressed his lips against the side of her throat, holding her close to his solid chest. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I’m picturing thousands of people out there, wondering what the fuck I’m doing on stage with their favorite band. Cole wants me to come out for two other songs and improvise. I’m going to make a mess of this. I’ll trip over the electrical cords, or fall off the stage, or—”

  “Or you’ll be just as graceful as you are on a runway. You’ll feel the music and you’ll forget all those people out there.” He turned her to face him and the tenderness in his eyes made her racing heart skip a few beats. “With all the lights shining down on us, we can hardly see them through most of the show. I’ve never been to a fashion show, but I’ve seen them on TV. You have celebrities and photographers and all kinds of rich people all around you, staring at you. Now that looks fucking scary.”

  She let out a soft laugh, not surprised that he’d see it that way. To her, the catwalk was easy. She kept her head high, her expression blank, and took the same measured steps she had a thousand times before. No one was really looking at her, they were admiring the talent of the designers, catching up on the latest trends, and deciding where to spend their money.

  “I’ve been walking the runway since I was fourteen. I don’t even really remember what it’s like to be nervous in front of a camera. But being on stage in front of a thousand of your screaming fans…?” She shook her head; pretty sure she was only going to make herself more nervous if she didn’t stop visualizing the crowd. And all the ways she might mess up. “Let’s change the subject. This theater is beautiful. It’s easier to picture people sitting out there to watch the opera with glasses of champagne than it is to imagine metalheads in a mosh pit.”

  Alder nodded, looking out at the balconies and the high ceiling, with gold accents, and what looked like half a sun artistically reaching out between the rafters, the architecture of the whole theater designed with heavy ancient Egyptian influences.

  The seating above was elegant, with rich red seats and fancy banisters, but the area in front of the stage ruined the sophistication. All the seating had been removed and there were crates that still hadn’t been stashed away from all the bands’ audio and lighting equipment. About half an hour ago, VIP fans had been brought in for the sound check, but they hadn’t been allowed to take pictures because—as Jesse had told them while acting as the host—they didn’t need everyone online to see the mess.

  “We do venues like this all the time, so I’m used to it.” He shifted her hair over one shoulder and bent down to kiss her neck again. His tone deepened in a way that heated her blood and made it very difficult to focus on anything he was saying. “Churches are still a little weird though.”

  She tipped her head to the side, enjoying the distraction of his lips moving down her throat, even though she was so turned on her panties weren’t going to survive the night. They were already a little damp.

  Maybe he could help her with that.

  “How much time do we have?” She hooked her fingers to the belt of his distressed, black jeans so he’d have no doubt as to why she was asking. “I have an idea of how you can help me relax.”

  He gave her a hooded look and took her hand to draw her backstage. “Enough for me to take care of you.”

  All five bands had retreated to their busses, or headed out to local restaurants, to chill out before the show started. The crewmembers were still around, adjusting the lighting and setting up the merch tables. Backstage was surprisingly empty, but she knew a roadie could show up any minute.

  Alder didn’t seem at all concerned, so she took his lead, moaning into his mouth as he pushed her up against the wall behind the heavy, red stage curtains. He cupped her pussy under her skirt, shifting aside the lace covering her and dipping a thick, calloused finger inside her with a soft groan.

  “I love how wet you get for me.” He dragged his finger out, spreading the moisture over her clit, circling the tiny bud until she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out at the sharp spark of pleasure. His hot breath brushed her throat as he leaned closer to her, easing his finger in and moving over her clit in a deliciously, torturous rhythm. “Feeling you like this, I can’t help thinking about how you taste. I could spend hours with your legs wrapped around my neck and my mouth on your sweet pussy.”

  Oh, I like that idea. Her core tightened as he pressed another finger into her alongside the first. She was so aroused, she knew he’d set her off before long, but she needed to see him as out of control as she was. He always paid close attention to her, giving her anything she could want or need.

  Right now, what she needed was to return the favor.

  Curving her hand around the back of his neck, she drew him down so she could whisper in his ear. “I still don’t know what you taste like. That’s about to change.”

  Tugging his belt open, she maneuvered him around so his back was braced against the wall. When his hand left her she grabbed his wrist and sucked his fingers, enjoying both the flavor of herself on his skin and the way he sucked in a sharp breath as he watched her.

  She opened his jeans, freeing his long, hard dick which she’d felt inside her more than once, but still hadn’t had a chance to admire.

  Stroking him, she ran her tongue over the swollen head, which had dark
ened with his arousal. Along his length were thick veins and his pulse beat against her tongue as she ran it up the underside of his dick. Teasing him with a flick of her tongue, she tasted the bead of precum slicking the slit of his cock.

  “Baby, that feels so fucking good.” Alder cupped her cheek, shifting his hips slightly as she wrapped her lips around him. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Cupping his balls in her hand, she let her saliva slick his whole length, moving faster, watching his face until he tipped his head back, muttering what sounded like a prayer.

  From the corner of her eye, there was movement. She slowed, not sure if she should stop and warn Alder.

  But then she saw who it was and a naughty little voice in her head told her to keep going. She still remembered those teasing words about how she “Might have had competition.”

  They wouldn’t get in trouble for getting caught. Not by him.

  He can either leave, or he can stay and watch.

  And for some strange reason, she kinda hoped he’d stay.

  Jesse swallowed hard as he stood in the shadows behind the stage, his cock swelling as Danica circled the head of Alder’s dick with her tongue. She had a wicked smile on her lips and he knew she’d seen him.

  He pressed his fist to his lips to hold back a groan as she took Alder deep into her throat. Damn it, he wasn’t sure what turned him on more. The idea of her using her mouth like that on him, or taking her place and putting that look of absolute mindless pleasure on Alder’s face himself.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have told her about fooling around with Alder in the past. This might be her way of staking her claim. She didn’t seem the spiteful sort though, and aside from holding his gaze for a few seconds, she was entirely focused on Alder.

  The brat is getting off on being watched. He inhaled roughly, stifling a laugh as he quietly backed away. Living on a tour bus for weeks on end, being a bit of an exhibitionist would serve her well. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to act as voyeur very often though.

  Not when the only play he’d been getting lately was his own fucking hand.

  Hell, he’d even gone to the bus, figuring Brave might want to relieve some pressure before hitting the stage, but Cole seemed to be reasserting his position with the band and was taking every opportunity to talk to Brave alone.

  Alder showing more interest in the management of the band clearly made Cole nervous. The man took advantage of the distance between the brothers and loved the fact that Brave usually gave him complete control over running the band.

  He was scrambling now to make sure that didn’t change.

  With Brave constantly isolating himself, Cole might get his way. Jesse tried not to meddle in band politics, but his relationship with Brave was falling apart along with everything else. Rehearsal yesterday had lightened the mood, but Brave had still asked to spend the night alone.

  He refused to discuss what was bothering him, but maybe it was time for Jesse to stop giving him a choice.

  Thinking over Cole’s routine, Jesse figured he should probably be somewhere in the venue, dealing with last minute shit with the organizers. Malakai and Tate would be grabbing a bite to eat, and Connor…well, they crazy fucker was either running around the block or screwing a groupie in the alley.

  If he wanted any time with Brave, he’d finally have the opportunity.

  Not for long, but he’d take it.

  Climbing onto the bus, he found Brave sitting in the front lounge, earbuds in his ears and a thick book open against his knee. His long black hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his face. His features were relaxed as his gaze remained locked on the pages and Jesse took a moment to admire the handsome man he’d considered untouchable for so long.

  Brave possessed the presence and looks of a rock god, but there were times when his dark eyes reminded Jesse of something even wilder. Like a predator hunting down anything he desired, from the way he paced the stage like a sleek panther, trapping the audience in a mesmerizing thrall, to the seductive smile that so many men and women couldn’t resist.

  Most saw either the god or the predator, but Jesse saw the man. The protective leader, the passionate artist, the man who tempered kindness with harsh words because he couldn’t bear to be seen as weak. When Jesse looked at Brave, he sensed that Brave needed someone who wouldn’t let him push them away.

  So far, though, he hadn’t figured out how to get past the barricades Brave had built around himself. When Brave had said he wanted to prove so much to Jesse, there’d been a moment when Jesse thought he’d found a way in.

  He’d only made it as far as Brave’s bed. And after that one time, he couldn’t even manage that anymore.

  “You gonna keep staring at me, or you gonna tell me what you want?” Brave didn’t look up from his book. He turned the page, his jaw hardening as though he was irritated.

  Jesse took a deep breath, then moved to crouch down in front of the other man. “How about you tell me what I did to piss you off?”

  Brave’s eyes narrowed. He stuck a ripped piece of paper between the pages of his book, then set it aside. “You didn’t do anything. Actually, I’m curious how much you’ll put up with. Do you enjoy being treated like shit?”

  “Do you want me to give up?”

  “I don’t know.” Brave’s brow furrowed. He brought his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. “You should. I was wrong, Jess. I’m going to fuck this up and you will get hurt.”

  “Why, because you’re not easy to be with? Don’t you think I fucking knew that already?” Jesse put his hands on Brave’s knees, waiting until Brave met his eyes before he continued. “You’re dealing with a lot. I get that, but I’m here for you, Brave.”

  “And what do you want from me? I’m not going to start talking about my feelings. I don’t need you to hold me and tell me everything will be okay.” Brave leaned forward, raking his hands into Jesse’s hair. “The only thing you can do for me is let me use you. And not hate me when I’m done.”

  Jesse wet his lips with his tongue, not sure whether or not he should consider this progress. What Brave was asking for was entirely physical, but it was a start. He wouldn’t back down now that he had his foot in the door.

  “I won’t hate you.” Jesse rose up on his knees, swiftly undoing the button fly of Brave’s jeans. The man might pretend to be completely detached, but his dick was hard, straining against his boxers. When Jesse fisted a hand around his dick, he let out a low sound of pleasure that edged on pain.

  “You crazy fucker.” Brave groaned as Jesse dropped down to swallow him whole. “If you were smart, you’d stay away from me. I’ve given you every opportunity to make a clean break.”

  Whatever Brave said, his actions told a completely different story. His grip on Jesse’s hair was painful, like he needed find a way to hold on to him, even as he pushed him away with every word. He thrust in deep and Jesse relaxed his jaw, letting Brave use him, hoping the man would finally accept that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Letting out rough growl, Brave pulled Jesse away, dragging him to his feet even as he stood. He moved behind Jesse, reaching around to undo Jesse’s jeans.

  “This is gonna be fast, but next time will be all about you.” Brave’s wallet dropped onto the sofa. His fingers, slicked with lube, stretched Jesse as he bit into Jesse’s shoulder, right through his shirt. His dick replaced his fingers and drove in hard. “Damn it, I don’t know how I managed to stay away from you so long.”

  “Don’t.” Jesse latched onto the back of the sofa, breathing through the pain of being taken so roughly, knowing that they’d had to get to this point before things could get better. Brave was finally with him. Really with him. And he wasn’t holding back anymore. “Don’t stay away from me, Brave. I’m tougher than you seem to think.”

  Barring an arm across his chest, digging his fingers into Jesse’s hair, Brave spoke with his lips against Jesse’s throat. “I believe you, but I can’t help wondering—” He rammed in, grinding d
eep, then pulling out almost all the way. “—how much—” His pelvis slapped against Jesse’s ass as he picked up the pace. “—you’re willing to take.”

  “Everything.” The pain shifted with the friction and Jesse panted as his cock throbbed. He wouldn’t come without his dick being stimulated. He needed Brave’s hand on him. “Fuck, Brave. Please touch me.”

  Slamming into him so hard, Jesse’s arms almost gave out, Brave found his release. He leaned over Jesse with a cold laugh. “I like hearing you beg. You say you’re willing to take anything? Good. Then you’ll wait until I’m ready to give you more.”

  Jesse rested his head on the back of the sofa, wincing as Brave drew away from him. His throat tightened as he heard Brave’s steady footsteps retreating. Water running in the bathroom.

  Shoving up to stand straight, Jesse adjusted his boxers and jeans to cover himself, waiting for Brave to finish in the bathroom so he could go clean himself up. He’d been warned that he’d be used, but he hadn’t listened, had he?

  You still willing to take everything, Jesse? The voice in his head was cruel. Bitter.

  When Brave came out of the bathroom, he met Jesse’s eyes for a split second before heading out. And there was some regret in those golden depths before Brave had looked away.

  He still didn’t believe Jesse. He hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he couldn’t help testing him. Almost as though he was convinced Jesse would give up and was willing to sabotage what they had to prove it.

  Showing him how fucking wrong he was wouldn’t be easy, but Jesse loved him. And he wouldn’t give up until Brave understood exactly what that meant.

  Am I willing to take everything?

  The answer was simple.

  Yes.

  Chapter Twelve

  When the blazing sun is gone,

  So very long before the dawn

 

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