Wild Harts: Rockstar Shifters Box Set

by Lily Cahill

“Where the hell is he going?” the producer asked.

  Drew ignored him and wove through the crowd toward Nina. Every step closer made his heart swell and anticipation snap and spark inside him like a live wire. God, she was gorgeous. Her cloud of hair was twisted back away from her forehead so her dark, luminous eyes were the focus of her face. She wore gold bangles up her ebony arms and a slinky black dress that hugged every amazing curve of her body. The dress was cut low, those perfect tits peeking over the edge of her dress, and there was a delicate gold chain around her neck with an ivory claw nestled between her cleavage. Drew fought the urge to bury his head there and nip at her delicious breasts right in the middle of the party.

  “Hey,” Drew said, desire full on his tongue. Nina’s bright brown eyes didn’t leave his as he said askance to Emily, “you might have to go smooth things over with that guy from E.T.”

  Emily sighed heavily, but scampered away. Tiff lingered for a moment, her gaze dancing between the two of them.

  “Right,” she said, her hand resting atop the swell of her stomach. “Well, I’m going to go find more food. It’s like they cook for dieting ants at these things.”

  And then they were alone in a sea of people. Drew nodded to a darkened corner, and Nina followed him silently. He turned, his back up against the rooftop railing and his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing Nina and crushing her body to his.

  He yearned to run the pads of his fingers up the hem of her short black dress and feel the heat between her thighs. He wanted to tug at the top of her dress until he could see those perfect tits again. And her mouth. Jesus, he wanted to kiss her so much it was like a physical ache in his gut.

  Nina wrapped one arm around her waist and propped her other arm on top, the recorder still between them, the little red light blinking.

  “I had a few more questions for you, Drew. You talked about Chase and Emily, and ….” She stopped, cocked her head. “What?”

  Drew stared at the recorder still held up in front of Nina’s face, like a shield. A slow smile pulled up one corner of his lips, then Drew plucked the recorder out of Nina’s hand, clicked it off, and dropped it into her shoulder bag.

  “Stop hiding behind that thing.”

  “I don’t know what you ….”

  Drew growled and grabbed Nina around the waist. He hauled her against his body and nearly groaned at how perfectly they fit together. His hand roamed up her amazing curves and gripped at her back.

  “I want to see you, talk to you, not that recorder.”

  Nina glanced away from Drew, her full lower lip tugged between her teeth.

  “We already talked about this, Drew.”

  “No, we didn’t. Not really. It wasn’t just a one-night-stand, and you know it.”

  Nina’s eyes roved the darkness before settling back on Drew. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Drew ran a finger along the side of Nina’s face then along the seam of her delicious lips. She gasped just the tiniest bit and arched against Drew.

  “You don’t know if you can what? Talk about what happened between us? Or give us a chance?”

  “Both?” Nina squeaked. Drew dipped his mouth closer to hers, and for one wonderful moment he thought he’d finally kiss Nina again—something he’d been wanting for days. But she tilted away from him, stepped out of his embrace.

  “No, Drew. I know what you’re thinking. You think we’re mates, but think of what that means for me. I thought I could try this, but it’s just … it’s bullshit. Mate lore is all about how I will make you happy.”

  Drew frowned. This woman knew about shifters, about fated mates, but she had such a skewed idea of it all. What had happened to her that made her this way? And how could Drew help her?

  “That’s not what being fated means to me, Nina. It’s not about my happiness, it’s about our happiness. I’ve watched my brothers as they’ve found their mates. I’ve seen how it’s changed them for the better, how it’s made both man and woman better versions of themselves. I’m selfish, Nina. I want that for myself. I want that with you.”

  Nina closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. “I don’t know if I can give that to you, Drew. Part of me wants … but I just ….”

  “What happened to you, Nina?” A horrible thought seized hold of Drew, and he could barely speak over the tightness in his throat. “Did someone hurt you?”

  Nina’s eyes snapped to his, but she remained silent.

  Up on stage, the mic whined with feedback for a second, and the party stuttered to a stop. Nina took the chance to turn away from Drew. She smiled sadly at him, then disappeared into the crowd. Over the heads of the audience, Drew spotted Emily gesturing frantically at him. Oh, right. They were supposed to play at this thing.

  At the mic, Sven from Epoch Records smiled at the crowd.

  “Thanks for coming, everyone!” Sven was a tall, blond Swede, and he looked the part perfectly. His hair was sleek on top, and his eyes ice blue. He held his hands up, and spotlights trained on him. Drew wove through the crowd toward Chase, Jax, and Bret as Sven spoke.

  “The Hart brothers have been working their asses off on their sophomore album, Montana Echo. I have just listened to the entire album, and let me be the first to tell the guys ….” Sven searched the crowd, then broke into a smile when he spotted Drew and his brothers. “I was blown away when I first heard you guys come in to play for me. But this … this is beyond. Run Wild was a mega hit, but this is the album that cements Wild Harts as one of the top acts today.”

  The crowd cheered, and Drew’s cheeks grew warm at all the eyes he felt on him.

  “Come on up, you guys. Let these good people hear it for themselves!”

  The four Harts filed up onto the makeshift stage to deafening applause and shouts from the crowd. Normally, Drew stood off to the side with his bass guitar, but now he accepted a fiddle and stood at front and center. It wasn’t a place he was comfortable at all, but at least it gave him a chance to find Nina in the crowd while his brothers set up behind him.

  There she was, at the back with the recorder close to her lips as she spoke into it. Her eyes flicked to his for a second, then dropped again. Drew watched as someone appeared behind her, lurking just at her shoulder. His jaw clenched tight as he watched Gavin hover there, staring at Nina. He nearly jumped from the stage to plow through the crowd, when Nina apparently sensed Gavin and spun toward him.

  Gavin was at her side, his arm on her. Drew’s muscles tightened, his body jerked forward. He could only watch as Gavin’s mouth twisted into a sneer, as Nina yanked her arm away from him. Every cell in Drew commanded that he jump down from the stage, shove through the crowd, and throw that asshole off the roof for touching Nina.

  But then Nina slapped Gavin directly across the face and motioned for security.

  Drew nodded at Sven, who was at the edge of the stage. He leaned close and lowered his voice. “That guy at the back from Rolling Stone. Gavin Rorbach. Get him the fuck out of here.”

  Sven nodded and hopped down from the stage just as Chase picked up the ethereal beat on his bodhrán drum. As two giant security guards dragged Gavin away, Drew settled the fiddle under his chin and picked up his bow. With his eyes on Nina and Chase’s beat digging deep into his soul, Drew approached the mic and started playing.

  This first single, “A Love So Deep,” was Drew’s favorite song on the new album. It tripped with an Irish lilt and built to something pulsing and alive. He loved how the song seamlessly blended old and modern, the same way the traditional instruments wove in and out of guitar, bass, and drums.

  After the intro, Drew handed off the fiddle for his bass, and stepped back for Jax and Bret to take lead vocals, but he’d pick up the fiddle again on two more songs, including a heartbreaking take on an old Irish lullaby his mother had sang to him and his brothers.

  This new album was still them, was still the driving rock that had made them famous, but there was an undercurrent of something older, deeper,
more alive that had been missing on their debut album.

  Drew joined Bret at the mic for the final chorus of “A Love So Deep” and looked out over the crowd once more. They were smiling, some were already singing along. But Drew searched past all of them for Nina.

  He found her at the back, standing still, her recorder forgotten. She was crying.

  Her gaze found his, and she smiled so sweetly, so sadly, Drew could have sworn a breath of wind could knock him flat on his ass. His music had moved her, truly moved her.

  He blinked, and her tears were gone, but her smile remained. Had Drew imagined it? Misinterpreted it? He couldn’t have. That moment of vulnerability made hope flare inside of Drew. He stared at her, his mind turning over with ideas and dreams and desires. He had to talk to her. He had to pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both dizzy with love.

  Drew didn’t look away from Nina for the entire set, and she didn’t look away either. Drew sang to her, played for her, let every emotion he was feeling deep in his heart be written across his face. And when the set was over, he jumped down off the stage and made straight for her.

  Without a word, Drew grabbed Nina’s hand and tugged her away from the party.

  Chapter Seven

  Nina

  NINA HAD TRIED TO CALM her heart, tried to keep a professional distance from Drew. It was a losing game, and she knew it. Her heart crashed against her ribs, her stomach was a sea of anticipation. Everything in Nina sang to be near Drew.

  She thought back to her daydreams on the beach. Maybe they weren’t just daydreams. Maybe, if she let them, they could be reality.

  Nina squeezed Drew’s hand and nodded toward the beach. It was deserted—it was nearly midnight, after all. The moon gilded the world silver and played at the whitecaps as they curled toward the shore. Beyond that, the world was black as velvet. Nina kicked off her ankle boots and let her toes sink into the cool sand.

  She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She’d let herself be publicly led from a party by a rockstar—a party where she knew probably fifty percent of the people there. God, there was going to be talk. Nina had always kept a hard line between her work life and her personal life, but the line was fading, wavering, and it was all down to this powerful man beside her.

  Nina peeked up at him. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, a shade lighter than his dark hair. Nina had never found long hair on men sexy, but there was something about Drew, something so … virile in his long hair and strong features. He was dressed in a slim black T-shirt that molded over his large muscles and faded gray jeans that made Nina want to grab his ass. He still wore that blue string around his wrist, and Nina wondered again what the story was there. Nina let her gaze fall down his muscular arm to his fingers twined with hers, which had so expertly played that fiddle.

  Jesus, the way he played. Nina shivered, and it had nothing to do with the night air. Buried deep in her memory were happy moments, moments where her friends and family and the clan elders would sing the old songs. Nina hadn’t realized how much she’d missed hearing those songs until Drew took the stage and picked up his fiddle.

  “Where’d you learn to play like that?” Nina glanced up at Drew and watched him swallow slowly.

  “When I play,” he began. He flicked a glance at Nina then away. He took a breath. “When I play, it’s like there’s a part of Mom with me, guiding my bow. I love to play bass, but the fiddle. The fiddle is my history. It traces back to my ancestors, it connects me in a way nothing else does.”

  Nina squeezed his hand again, and Drew squeezed back. “Your mother taught you?”

  Drew nodded. “She was … like me. Quiet. Some thought she was cold because of her shyness. But when she played …. There was just so much warmth there, so much love. I hope I play even a fraction as well as she did.”

  Nina cocked her head. Did? In her research, there was precious little about the Hart brothers’ parents. She only knew that his mother died when Drew was sixteen. She almost didn’t say anything, but her journalistic instincts took over.

  “Did play?”

  Drew went quiet, his features placid. But Nina could sense the emotions churning just under the surface. For all his calm demeanor, Nina could plainly see how much Drew felt. She had a suspicion they were very similar, in that regard.

  “Sorry, you don’t need to talk about it,” Nina said after a moment.

  “No,” Drew said. He stopped and turned to face Nina. The moon bathed one side of his face, and Nina watched his lips part, his chest rise with a deep breath. His green eyes held hers, and Nina couldn’t have looked away even if she tried. “She taught me to play when I was a boy, before … before she left.”

  “I thought she died when you were sixteen? A car accident?”

  Drew pressed his lips together. “She left us a couple years before that.”

  Nina’s stomach twisted. She didn’t know that. “I, uh, never knew my parents. I was raised by my grandfather after they died.” Nina laughed to dispel the despair that had fallen over them and looked out over the dark water. “I’m actually writing a novel about an orphaned girl because I’m a giant cliché.”

  Drew frowned.

  “I’m a journalist with a secret, half-finished novel moldering in a drawer. We are a dime a dozen in this town.”

  Drew moved to stand in front of Nina and tilted her chin up to look into his intense eyes. His touch sent goose bumps rippling up Nina’s skin. “So finish it,” he said, his voice rumbling and low. “Finish your novel.”

  Nina searched Drew’s face for any hint of sarcasm, but he was totally sincere. Everything about this man was sincere and measured and … real. Everything about this moment felt real and immediate and unmistakable.

  Nina’s body craved Drew, and it wouldn’t stop until she sated herself on him. The crash of waves ebbed around them, and the sand was cool under Nina’s bare feet. Nina snaked her hands up to Drew’s face and wrenched him closer.

  “I need you, Drew. Now.”

  Drew paused, just a sliver of a breath from Nina’s lips. “You’re sure?”

  So sure. She was so damned sure. Nina pressed herself up against Drew’s strong, broad chest and hauled his mouth against hers. Drew groaned and wrapped his arms around Nina, folding her into his embrace. God, he was perfect. His lips were urgent, his kiss searing. Nina held on tight and lost herself in their kiss.

  With Drew’s guiding hands, they sank to the beach, arms entwined and lips together. Nina curled in the space between Drew’s knees and shivered as his hands roamed over her skin. She arched into his touch and tugged his lip between her teeth. Drew moaned, and his large, warm hand cupped her breast. His fingers whispered against the fabric of her dress, teasing her nipple.

  Nina moaned against Drew’s lips and then dragged her mouth along his jaw. Stubble grazed her lips, sending tingles across her kiss-swollen mouth. She pressed kisses against Drew’s jaw, his neck, his ear. Drew tilted his chin and kneaded Nina’s breasts, their lips and hands moving in a sort of intimate dance. Nina’s mouth trailed lower, along the vee of his shirt. She planted her hands against Drew’s thick thighs and pushed up again to attack his lips in a searing kiss.

  Nina ran her hand up his thick thigh to the erection straining against his jeans. She quivered with desire just to feel it, at the memory of what he felt like plunged deep inside of her.

  Just thinking of it made heat blaze between her thighs, and she rubbed the length of him again before tugging at the button of his jeans. She needed to feel Drew inside of her again—needed it so badly she could barely think straight. Drew pushed her back until she lay on the sand, then he stretched out beside her. Nina felt for his jeans and yanked them open, grasping at his hardened dick. Drew groaned and rocked against the side of her thigh.

  “Jesus, Nina.”

  “Touch me,” Nina commanded.

  Drew’s voice was a low rumble at her ear. “Where?”

  Nina let go of Drew’s cock to grab his ha
nd and shoved it against her wet pussy. “Here,” she breathed. “Touch me—” Her voice broke into a breathy yelp as Drew’s fingers thrust into her.

  Nina arched her hips up against his hand, grinding into his touch. Drew nipped at her ear, her neck, her collarbone as his fingers worked inside of her. Nina’s breath shuddered, her pulse jumped. Everything was building inside, building and building into a giant wave that wanted to break over her body.

  With a grunt, Drew rolled atop Nina, spreading her thighs open with his knees. Nina grabbed hold of her dress hem and yanked it up to give Drew access. Drew met Nina’s eyes, looking for her consent. Nina gave it boldly and loudly. She grasped Drew’s cock and arched her hips up to meet his head.

  Drew slipped his fingers out of her and clutched at her hips, holding her ass up in the air. They paused there for one wonderful second, staring deep into each other’s eyes, then Drew plunged into Nina.

  Nina cried out in ecstasy, and Drew fell forward onto his hands, thrusting deeper and deeper inside of Nina with every plunge of his cock. Shivers and heat rolled over Nina in waves, and overhead the stars seemed to spin out and out and out.

  “Drew,” Nina panted. “Drew, I’m going to ….”

  Nina arched, her hands digging into the sand, and she came. It rushed over her, a current of sensation that washed her clean and smooth. She shuddered one last time as Drew groaned his own release, and they fell limp to the beach.

  Spent and sated, Nina stretched out on the sand, a smile playing at her lips. “I’ve never done that before,” she whispered to the moon.

  “Done what?”

  “Fucked on a beach.”

  Drew made a noise in the back of his throat. “That wasn’t fucking. That was making love.”

  Nina glanced over at Drew, who was propped up on one elbow on his side. He idly stroked Nina’s stomach. Nina reached up and softly ran a finger along Drew’s square jaw. He was normally clean-shaven, but she liked the stubble there now.

  “I always thought people who … made love on the beach were idiots. But, you might have converted me, Drew Hart.”