Rush of Insanity

by Eden Summers

  He wanted peace. He wanted privacy. He wanted Harper.

  But he had to maintain the tiny sliver of professionalism he had left. He had to pretend he wasn’t entirely mindless over a woman.

  “What do you want, Kyle?” He swung around, walking backward through the maze of stage crew and musical equipment.

  “Just be aware, she’s a little…” the man cringed, “confrontational.”

  Judd’s stomach dived. It wasn’t a nauseating plunge, more like a sky-diving freefall. Fear and excitement mingled into one. “Perfect.” He grabbed the dangling tank at his thigh and used it to mop up the sweat on his neck and face. “Anything else?”

  “Just be careful, okay?”

  He grinned and lightly punched Kyle in the shoulder. “I think I can handle her.”

  “Sure you can.” His assistant raised a disbelieving brow and planted his feet. “Good luck.”

  Judd didn’t need it. He could probably use a few more condoms, but luck wasn’t on the shopping list.

  He turned back toward his path and started jogging. The progression toward Harper was a blur with the scream of fans slowly dying to a dull murmur. By the time he reached the hall leading to his dressing room, he was panting, equal parts exhaustion and exhilaration as he approached two of his security team.

  “It takes more than one of you to keep an eye on her?” They didn’t acknowledge the humor in his tone. There was no laughter. Not even a smile.

  “Both of us,” the man closest muttered, “plus Tank who’s already inside.”

  “The crazy bitch bit me.” The second guard held up his arm, showing the light red circular marks embedded in his wrist.

  Judd kept the smile on his face even though the elation evaporated from his system like an instantaneous drought. “After holding her captive for over an hour, I’m surprised she didn’t set her sights on more important appendages.”

  The thought of someone else’s hands on his woman inspired rage. The name calling was even worse. Yes, she was a crazy bitch, but she was his crazy bitch. Nobody else had the right to judge her.

  “She did.” The man lowered his arm. “I’m lucky my reflexes are quicker than hers.”

  Judd gave a humorless laugh and moved between them to grasp the door handle. “Very lucky. Can I give you a piece of advice, though?” He glanced over his shoulder, pinning the man with a harsh stare.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Call her a bitch again, or any other name, for any reason, and you’re going to see yourself in the unemployment line.”

  The guy’s lips parted on silent words.

  “We clear?”

  “Yes.” The man raised his chin and moved back to stand flush with the wall. “Crystal.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Judd turned back to the wooden barrier separating him from Harper and took a deep breath. This was it. The time to claim what was his. He swallowed over the anticipation drying his throat, twisted the handle and stepped into what he hoped would be a new stage of his life.

  The room was silent, the air thick and filled with tension.

  Tank leaned against the wall in the far corner, his shoulders straight, sweat beading on his forehead. But it was Harper who stole Judd’s attention. She sat in front of the mirror bordered with lights, her head lowered, not meeting his gaze in the reflection. A vase full of flowers was to her left, the bright colors the second most beautiful thing in the room.

  “I’ll take it from here.” His voice was tight. Restricted from longing.

  Tank pushed from the wall, his dark eyes bleak as he made his way to the door. “She’s not happy to be here.”

  Judd nodded. He would’ve been surprised if she was.

  Tank stared him down as he moved closer and lowered his voice. “Take it easy on her, okay?”

  Judd clenched his teeth. The two of them had worked together for years, they’d been friends even longer. No insult would’ve been intended. But it flowed through anyway. He didn’t need direction when it came to Harper. He was aware of her limits. He knew how hard he could push her before it turned from a game into something cruel.

  “I said, I’ll take it from here.”

  Tank inclined his head. “I’ll be waiting on the other side of the door if you need me.”

  Judd stepped away and waited until the click of the latch announced they were alone. Finally. After a year flying solo, he had her back.

  “Fancy seeing you here, princess.”

  She grew two inches with the stiffening of her spine. The long strands of her hair fell like silk around her shoulders, tempting, oh so tempting to his fingers. She pushed back in the chair and stood, slow and graceful, entirely unlike her usual movements that it put him on edge.

  He took a cautious step forward as she straightened to her full height. They shared a frozen moment. A glimpse in time where neither of them did anything. They didn’t talk, didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. It was peaceful. Reminiscent. Until she lunged for the vase, snatched it off the counter and launched it at his head.

  “Fuck!” He had one-point-five seconds to duck and weave as the projectile sailed through the air. It brushed his shoulder, flowers flying everywhere, before it hit the ground and shattered, leaving a trail of blooms in its wake.

  Now that was the Harper he remembered. She was all action and anger, energy and excitement. This feisty viper was the woman he’d fantasized about every night since they first met.

  “God, you’re beautiful when you’re mad.”

  He wouldn’t have thought those eyes could glare with more ferocity. He was wrong. She glanced at the table beside her, then scoured the rest of the room with her gaze.

  “There’s nothing left to throw.”

  She raised a brow as if accepting a challenge and gripped the back of the wooden chair, lifting two legs off the ground. “Why am I here?”

  “I was going to ask the same thing.” He couldn’t contain his smile. Fuck, he enjoyed this woman. She revived him. Energized him. Even after a two hour performance. “I would’ve thought my concert was the last place you’d want to be on a Friday night.” His smile crept into a smirk as the devil sparked in her eyes. “I guess I’m still hard to resist.”

  She huffed as she raised the chair and launched it haphazardly in his direction. All it took was a slide to the left to miss the trajectory.

  The last thing any sane man would do is laugh, but this was what he loved about Harper. She didn’t take any shit. Instead, she gave it out in truckloads. She was a spark of life amongst the dreary yes-men and placating groupies he was surrounded by.

  “Have you got that out of your system?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Are your goons going to let me go home?”

  “Not until I tell them to.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, plumping up her breasts in the loose charcoal T-shirt. She definitely was beautiful when angry; she was also more alluring than he remembered. Her eyes were a deeper blue, vibrant and hypnotizing. And her mouth…those dark, plump lips would be the death of him.

  “Well, I guess I need to find a better weapon.” She turned back to the counter, gripped it with both hands and hung her head with a sigh.

  There were red marks on her wrist. Three specific impressions that looked like finger marks.

  “What the hell are they?” He bridged the distance between them in four steps, and took her elbow in his hands.

  She turned into him, her eyes wide. “Back off.”

  “Who did this?”

  “Who do you think?” She tugged her arm from his grip. “Your henchman thought I was a meek, vulnerable female and tried to manhandle me.”

  His heart crept into his throat, climbing higher with his fury. “The guy you sank your teeth into?”

  “Yeah.” Her smile was smug. “He tasted like chicken.”

  Fuck. “I’m sorry.” More so than his words would ever convey. He wanted to kick the ass of the guard who touched her. He wanted to kill him. Problem was, he
had a persona to uphold, one based on bullshit charm and charisma with a heavy dose of manners and integrity. If he landed a punch on one of the security team, he’d never live the publicity down.

  “Don’t be. Isn’t it his job to hold women hostage until you finish your set?” She laughed and shuffled backward to lean her ass on the counter. “You’ve definitely streamlined your seductive process in the last year. I’m surprised it hasn’t made the news.”

  He stepped into her, knee to knee, and loathed the way she stiffened at the brush of contact. “It takes a lot to become newsworthy these days.” He reached out and trailed his fingers over the marks on her wrist, trying to soothe her pain and his. “I’d have to create a harem and fill it with kidnapped women before I gained any sort of attention.”

  “I’m sure the idea has crossed your mind more than once.” She slid along the counter and out of reach. “Can I leave now?”

  “Nope.” He took her position seated against the counter.

  She chuckled, the sound half-hearted. She wasn’t enjoying the game like she had in the past. “I suppose you want me to scream.” She strolled along the edge of the room, trailing her fingers over the rack of clothes, the wall, the chairs. “To beg.” She met his gaze. “To plead.”

  Fuck yes. All of the above.

  “It’s not going to happen, Judd. So let me go home.”

  He almost believed her desire to leave. Almost. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at her, trying to read what was going on in that puzzling brain of hers. “What were you doing sitting at the back of the stadium? You know I would’ve given you tickets. All you had to do was ask.”

  “I’m not here because I want to be,” she murmured. “Nicole begged me to come. But you already knew that, right? How long have the two of you had this planned?”

  “The last time I spoke to Nicole was before you walked out on me.” He scrutinized her, hoping to see regret at the mention of her departure from his life. But there was nothing. No change. No acknowledgement of the way she shoved her fist into his chest and pulled out his still-beating heart.

  “So you played that fun little game with the crowd at last night’s show, too?” She raised a brow. “That screams of desperation, Mr. Hart.”

  “I spoke to the ticketing manager and had your name searched against all credit card payments.”

  “That’s funny.” Her lips curved. So sultry. So sexy. “Because I didn’t purchase the tickets. Nicole did.”

  “Well, she’s got shit taste in seats.” He pushed from the counter and stalked toward her, unwilling to discuss exactly how desperate he’d felt playing the same game with the crowd last night. Each step he took, she took another in the opposite direction. Cat and mouse. Push and pull.

  “The seats were my stipulation. I didn’t want to be caught dead here. I hoped sitting in the roof space would mean none of your staff would notice me.” Her seductive eyes turned aggressive. “As much as you think I’m here for you, you’re wrong. Nicole made me.”

  He didn’t believe her. Refused to. Harper could deny it all she liked. They both knew she was here to see him. “And you couldn’t say no?”

  “Not when she’s been catatonic for the last month.” She made her way to the opposite side of the room, maintaining the few feet between them. “Stefan left her. The least I could do was put up with seeing you on stage in an effort to make her happy. And now she’s out there, all alone, waiting for me.”

  “She’s gone, princess. I made it known that you’d be leaving with me tonight.”

  She scoffed and shook her head. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Because you know how crazy you make me.”

  “Yes.” Her smile turned pained. “Unfortunately, I do.”

  He increased the size of his steps, the pace too. Harper did the same, stumbling around furniture in an effort to keep space between them.

  “What’s this about, Judd? Why am I here?”

  “I’ve missed you.” It was barely the truth. Missing her didn’t come close to how he felt. He craved her. Yearned for her. As strong as he was, this woman made him weak, and the pain hit harder the longer they were apart.

  “You expect me to believe that? I bet the first time I graced your thoughts was when you drove your shiny tour bus into Denver a few days ago.”

  “Is that what you think?” He took another step and swung out a hand, his fingers drifting over her hip.

  “I certainly don’t think you missed me.” She stated as fact, but she looked at him in question, demanding clarification that he couldn’t give just yet. He’d had too much pride when she left, and he was still overflowing with it now.

  “As fun as this exercise is, I’m going to have to leave.” She walked the perimeter of the room, the hint of her vanilla perfume tempting his senses. He reached for her again, and she pivoted to deflect the connection. His fingers drifted over her stomach, to her hip, and into painful thin air as she continued to the door.

  “No.” He jogged after her, panic infiltrating his veins as she clasped the handle. “We need to talk.” He shoved his palm against the door and settled his chest into her back. She was warm. Soft. Perfect. She was his, he only needed to remind her.

  “Please, Judd.”

  Her plea was a shock to his senses. He’d never been exposed to her vulnerability before. It was foreign and delicious. He wanted to poke for more. To make her defenseless in the exact same way she did to him.

  “Please what, princess?” He smoothed his cheek through her hair, inhaling her sweetness into his lungs. “Are you asking to leave or begging to stay?” He placed his lips below her ear and trailed a path to an unfamiliar silver chain resting against her neck.

  A whimper brushed his ears as she placed her head against the door. “What do you want from me?” She pushed back and turned to face him, her eyes now glazed with lust and something less inviting that he refused to believe was sorrow.

  “I told you, we need to talk.” He leaned in to take her lips but she turned her cheek, denying him.

  She’d never denied him before.

  Not once.

  She was as addicted to his kiss as he was to hers. Unless… “Are you with someone?”

  She looked at him, holding him in place with unblinking eyes. Thoughts flickered behind those mesmerizing irises, he could read them, could tell exactly what she was about to say.

  “Don’t lie to me, Harper.”

  She winced and the cutest puff of breath left her lips. “I’m not with anyone.”

  Perfect. “Then you’re mine.”

  She shuddered as his mouth descended on her neck. He sank his teeth into her, scraping her skin like he knew she loved. There was no time. No air. No thoughts. There was only touch and taste and smell.

  There was only Harper and her need that couldn’t be denied.

  He unbuckled her belt and expected a protest that didn’t eventuate. He’d won her over. Her body at the very least. Her delicate hands gripped his upper arms and he closed his eyes at the sense of belonging. He’d been adrift for too long. He’d been alone.

  Not anymore.

  She wouldn’t walk away again. He refused to allow it.

  “Have you thought of me?” he spoke against her skin. “Have you touched yourself and pictured me in your mind?”

  “Of course,” she drawled, heavy with sarcasm. “Every night.”

  He chuckled and shoved at the waistband of her black jeans, lowering them a few inches. “That’s good. Because I think of you every damn time I come.”

  She growled, losing the battle to hide the way her body became soft against his.

  “Just touch me,” she demanded, all anger and defiance, “and hurry up.”

  “Let me see you first.” He gripped the hem of her shirt and lifted.

  “No.” She grabbed his wrist, her eyes wide with panic. “This is all you get. I’m not taking off my clothes.”

  That was new, too. His woman wasn’t shy. Maybe it was pu
nishment. Retaliation for winning her over with his touch. “Fine.” He’d look his fill in time. For now, he’d be content staring into those defiant eyes.

  He released her shirt and snaked his fingers into her panties, over her smooth pubic bone and lower, to the tiny bundle of nerves at the top of her pussy. His dick demanded precedence, his thickening shaft pulsing against the zipper of his pants. He wanted to be all over her. To be inside her. But that would come later.

  “What are you waiting for?” She jerked her hips, sending his fingers through the slickness of her arousal and moaned.

  Fuck. He could come from the mere sound alone. Through the creation of all his songs, the profound melodies and impeccable lyrics, nothing had ever sounded as endearing. He’d missed hearing her pleasure. He’d missed everything, especially the feel of her core clamping down on him like it did as he sank his fingers deep inside her.

  “At least your pussy knows how to welcome me home.” He breathed in her groan and licked the salt from her skin. This was what his pride needed—confirmation that what they shared wasn’t a figment of his imagination. “Nothing’s hotter than seeing you like this.”

  He grazed his shaft against her hip, needing the friction to keep him sane. He refused to miss a second of this moment due to the mindlessness of his own release.

  That would happen later.

  Right now, he wanted to appreciate those sounds she made in the height of pleasure. He wanted to see the way she lost control. He wanted to breathe deep of her sweet scent, so deep he’d never fully exhale all he had of her.

  He’d put her needs before his. And that wasn’t just for today or tomorrow, but next week, next month and in ten years’ time.

  “Nothing’s hotter than having your ego stroked, you mean?” She gyrated her hips with the pulse of his fingers, moving faster, demanding more movement. “God, I wish I could deny you.”

  “Don’t say that.” He leaned back to look at her but she turned her cheek. The emotional barrier made him pause. He’d never been more aware of her than he was right now, and whatever was going through her head was heavier than the spite in their playful game. She seemed fractured, and he couldn’t tell if that worked in his favor. “There’s no way I could ever deny you.”