Savage Rhythm (Club Volare)

by Cox, Chloe

  The pressure let off, just a little bit, the way it did after a show. Just enough to keep him going.

  “Thank you,” he said again, and hung up.

  The guys were waiting. Time to go face the music.

  Brian, the band’s bassist, was slumped over the table in the bus’s little booth, looking miserable.

  “Why are we here early, you assholes?” he muttered.

  “Why did you get black out drunk the night before we have to leave on tour, you dumbass?” countered Gage.

  Erik just smiled. Still not one hundred percent comfortable. Declan hadn’t noticed it during the show, so he didn’t know if it was a problem yet. But then again, he hadn’t noticed much of anything during the show but Molly Ward.

  “Dec, c’mon,” Brian sighed, sitting up and putting his shades down. Dude was bloodshot.

  Might as well just spit it out.

  “Molly Ward knows I didn’t go to rehab. She knows I’m not an alcoholic,” he said, watching them all carefully. Erik looked to the other two, who weren’t any goddamn help. Brian was laughing, and Gage just looked at him with disbelief.

  “How did you let that happen?” Gage asked. “It’s been one day. One fucking day!”

  “She’s smart is what happened,” Declan said, glowering. “She figured it out. Knows about alcoholics, apparently.”

  Which had been an interesting insight, all on its own.

  “And that’s not all,” Declan continued. He sighed. “I promised her I wouldn’t lie during our interviews.”

  Now Brian cracked up. “Oh, dude, come on. You know I have a headache right now, it hurts to laugh.”

  Declan threw a straw at him, hitting him in the temple.

  “This is a joke, right?” Gage asked. “Because I don’t see how you’re going to keep up this whole web of lies you made us all promise to support if you’re supposed to tell the truth.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” Declan said. “You guys can lie all you want.”

  “Oh, thank you so much for that,” Brian said. “You know this whole thing is your show, man. I still don’t know why you’re doing this. Come clean and let the chips fall where they may, you know?”

  “You know where they’d fall,” Declan said through clenched teeth. “I’m not doing that to Bethany. Or Soren.”

  Brian looked ashamed. “I know, Dec. Sorry.”

  The group went silent. No one had said they approved or disapproved of what Declan had done—beating the crap out of Soren and kicking him out. They’d all known enough to stay the hell out of it. But there was no denying that it was a decision that had a major effect on all of them.

  Erik cleared his throat. “I knew the deal when I signed up,” he said quietly. “It’s none of my business, and I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

  “Yeah, I guess if we ever want Soren to come back…” Brian said, then looked at Erik. “Sorry, man.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know how it is.”

  Declan could already feel a headache coming on. They never talked about Soren, or if he’d come back, or even where he was. Declan had always thought it was because none of them fucking knew anything, but it just occurred to him that maybe they did know. Maybe Soren talked to all of them but him. After all, no one but Declan, Bethany, and Soren knew the full story. Maybe Soren could face the rest of them.

  Which was bullshit.

  Which was dangerous. Declan needed to get in his right mind, his Dom mind, before Molly showed up, because that woman was dangerous, too. Whatever it was he felt with her, it hit him hard, deep, went right through all the usual defenses he had up. Which was fine, he could handle it. But the last time he’d felt anything close to that with anyone else had been Bethany, and he’d been so goddamn wrong about her…

  Every memory of Bethany was tainted now with that night. With carrying her, blinded by grief and panic, not seeing Bethany in his arms, but someone else…

  “Fuck this,” Declan said aloud and stood up. “You all know what the deal is. You all know how to kick ass. Let’s get it done.”

  “Get what done?”

  Declan turned to find Molly, in those damn sinful cutoffs and a white tee, a duffel slung over her shoulder and a sly smile on her face.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Molly could barely handle Declan’s eyes on her without melting into a puddle. She was not prepared to handle Declan plus three other hot guys. Maybe going from being a social hermit to living in a sexually charged tour bus was going to be more of a challenge than she thought.

  The guy she recognized as Brian, the bassist, let out a low whistle, and said, “Good luck with that, Dec.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Brian,” Declan said. He was wearing another black tank, muscles everywhere, flexing while he looked at her. Good Christ, but it never stopped. Molly hadn’t ever felt this continuously turned on. She had actually thought there was something wrong with her sex drive until she met Declan Donovan.

  The irony burned.

  “You going to introduce me?” she asked.

  Declan frowned and reached for her, lifting her heavy duffel off her shoulder with no apparent effort and pulling her gently forward. He still kept her close to him. Am I being marked? she thought, and smiled.

  “So this dumbass is Brian,” he said. “This is Erik, who’s filling in for Soren—”

  Temporarily? she wondered.

  “And this here is Gage, our drummer.”

  All the guys smiled at her and Gage saluted, an odd gesture coming from a dude with plugs in his earlobes. Molly smiled back and waved a little.

  And then an uneasy silence settled in.

  An awkward silence.

  Oh shit, not good. Nooot good. Had she interrupted something? There was obviously something going on that she didn’t know about, something beyond the obvious stuff, but she needed these guys to trust her.

  “So—” she started.

  She got only the one word out before Brian erupted with laughter.

  “So you know he’s not really a drunk, huh?”

  Gage choked on his beer laughing, and even Erik burst out, covering his mouth and shaking silently. Molly giggled, looking up at Declan, and was relieved to find the big guy smiling.

  “Tough to keep secrets on a tour bus, huh?” she said to him.

  He leaned down so quickly she couldn’t react. “Not as tough as you’d think,” he whispered.

  That did it. Instant wetness.

  Molly tried to blink herself back to Earth and found Brian leering at her. She’d have to set the tone right away.

  “Yeah, you know, I actually have questions about that,” she said.

  Brian shook his head and pretended to zip his lips. Gage shook his head, and Erik just smiled—and they all looked at Declan.

  So that’s how it was. They all deferred to Declan. She didn’t know why she was surprised; the guy was a Dom and the obvious leader of the band. So she was still going to have to crack him to get at the story.

  Molly really didn’t mind that part.

  “You guys know I’m still going to have to write a book, right? With words in it? I’m going to be interviewing all of you, so don’t think you’ll get off that easily.”

  “You have no idea how easily I get off,” Brian said, and ducked when Gage tried to smack him upside the head.

  Declan rumbled.

  “Ignore them,” he said, glaring at Brian.

  But Molly only laughed. Brian had broken the tension, and now everyone knew what the deal was. She could work with that. They were all determined to keep something from her, and that was fine. She wished them luck. They were going to need it.

  Molly looked up at Declan while Brian and Gage bickered. “Come to think of it, where am I going to be doing interviews?”

  She heard Brian snicker. That did not bode well.

  “First,” Declan said, hefting her bag over his shoulder, “Let me show you to your bunk.”

  Molly looked up and down the bus. It was…a bus.
There wasn’t much to see. The area towards the back seemed to have some bunks and a few closed doors, but it was all pretty much open.

  Probably she should have realized this. There really wasn’t a lot of privacy on a tour bus. Her mind reeled with all the implications of this right up until she felt Declan’s hand on the small of her back again, urging her forward.

  Did he know it was like an electrical shock every time he did that?

  What a freaking habit.

  She scurried forward, realizing her nipples would soon be visible through her poorly chosen t-shirt if he kept touching her like that, and not wanting to have to deal with being visibly aroused in front of these guys she just met. Though obviously—obviously—she was going to have to deal with it at some point.

  “This bunk is yours,” Declan said, tossing her duffel into a bottom bunk at the very back, just a few feet from the room at the back with an actual door.

  Molly looked at the bunk, which had only a small, thin privacy curtain separating it from the rest of the bus. She thought about the vibrator she’d packed, thinking she was being smart because it was clear that she was going to need frequent relief if she were going to keep her head around Declan Donovan. And then she thought about the fact that at any given moment she’d be basically exposed to four hot men, one of whom was able to get her halfway there with just a look, and all of them stuck together on a tour bus.

  It had been so long since she’d had sex, so long since she’d wanted to have sex, and since she’d met Declan it was all she could think about. And now she wouldn’t even be able to masturbate without turning it into a show.

  She might die.

  “Is there a problem?” Declan asked.

  “It’s awfully cramped for two,” she managed to squeak out. Then she blushed and looked up at his grinning face.

  “For interviews! I meant for interviews!”

  “Well, then, madam,” Declan said, sweeping his hand out towards the closed door. “Let me show you to your interview room. Also known as my bedroom.”

  chapter 7

  “You’re kidding,” Molly said.

  Declan didn’t even try to hide his smile as he held open the door to the back room—his bedroom—for her.

  “Nope,” he said.

  Of course he would get the only bedroom. Of course there would be only one place for her to conduct interviews. Molly shook her head. So not only was she going to be unable to take care of herself when things got too…tense…around Declan, but she was going to be spending a lot of time with Declan.

  On his bed.

  “You don’t have furniture?” she asked.

  “There’s a chair somewhere,” he said. “It’s covered with clothes, though.”

  She could see that. The only clean space in the admittedly cramped room was the bed. And it was an impressive bed. Large. Smooth, soft looking sheets. Molly’s eyes swept over a set of metal loops bolted to the wall. And one in the ceiling.

  Her heart skidded and she felt a lump in her throat. She knew what those were for. Or at least thought she did. Her imagination certainly did. But it meant he’d done those things here with other women.

  Of course he had. She was an idiot. He was a famous rock star Dom; of course he had subs and scenes and groupies and everything here all the damn time.

  Would he do it during the tour? With her in her bunk, right there? Would she have to listen?

  The thought made her feel sick. Which made her feel mad. She had no right to care at all, and she was only screwing herself by getting carried away like this.

  “Hey,” Declan said, closing the door behind him. His dark eyes had softened. “Where’d you go? What’s wrong?”

  Molly shrugged it off, unnerved that he’d picked up on her discomfort so easily. “Nothing. Just…what about when I want to interview the other guys? I guess I’ll have to do it in here.”

  “No,” Declan said immediately.

  Molly looked up in surprise. “No? Where do you propose I interview them, on the roof?”

  “Where I can see you.”

  “This is you being territorial again, isn’t it?” she teased, beyond relieved to have the focus back on Declan. Let him suffer. “The alpha caveman can’t even let another man in his bedroom.”

  “That’s not what I’m territorial about,” he said gruffly.

  Oh God.

  Molly felt herself flush, and worse, so many times worse, felt her nipples tighten. Just the way he’d said it, the way she knew he was thinking about her, about owning her…

  She closed her eyes. She never should have worn this stupid shirt. He could see.

  “Look at me,” he rasped.

  Dutifully, she opened her eyes. It wasn’t even weird now when she did what he said, except that it very much was. She was so screwed.

  He’d taken another step closer, hulking over her, breathing hard. Looking down at her.

  “You’re right,” he said. “You have to do all the interviews here. But you should know I don’t like it. You should know what I’m going to be thinking.”

  “No,” she said softly. “Please don’t make this harder.”

  “No, that’s on you,” he said. “You’re the reason I can’t throw you down on that bed and fuck you ‘til you scream right now.”

  “Declan, we don’t even know each other.”

  “I didn’t ask you to marry me.”

  He hooked one finger over the waist of her cutoffs and under the waistband of her panties, against her bare skin. She shuddered, her abs fluttering at the touch as he pulled her forward.

  “This won’t work if we…” She licked her lips; they were so dry. She couldn’t even say it.

  “You’re wrong,” he said, letting his leg come between hers. “But you’re going to be the one to admit it.”

  And then he let her go. Didn’t move far, just separated them. Left her hanging, breathless, panting.

  Again.

  “I have some rules for our interviews, too,” he said.

  Molly staggered to the bed and sat down. That was deliberate. He’d put her in this state, revved her up, and then dropped her on purpose. To set rules?

  To regain that power.

  She looked up at him and smiled. She understood.

  “Oh really?” she said. “You already promised no lies.”

  Declan stood with his arms crossed, legs spread wide apart. She was doing well until she let her eyes drift down. He didn’t seem to care that he was obviously hard. Molly’s brain ran right off the track when she saw his long, thick bulge pulled tight against his leg, right there at eye level.

  “But I didn’t promise I’d tell you anything,” he said. “Eyes up.”

  Mortified, she looked up. He was smiling.

  Bastard.

  Muscled, tattooed, beautiful, sexy bastard.

  “Now, if you want an answer,” he said, eyes glittering down at her, “you have to give me one.”

  “One what?” she asked warily.

  Declan laughed. “An answer. Just reciprocity. That’s all I’m saying. You want a question answered, you answer one in turn.”

  Molly hesitated. That was actually brilliant. Deviously brilliant. And the beautiful bastard up there seemed to know it. Molly had been totally comfortable with the idea of digging into his life while hers remained protected, of getting Declan to open up about whatever messed up thing had broken up the most profound friendship in his life. The idea of being opened to the same scrutiny left her feeling…

  Vulnerable.

  Exposed.

  Scared.

  All things that turned her on when she thought about Declan.

  Molly buried her face in her hands. “I am so fucked,” she muttered to herself.

  “What was that?” he demanded.

  “Fine!” she said, frustration winning out. “I can’t argue it’s unreasonable, and it’s not like I have any leverage, so fine. You win. Tit for tat, reciprocity, the whole thing.”

  Her he
art was racing as she said it. There were things that Molly had never talked to anyone about because they left her feeling so ashamed and weak—the way Robbie had treated her, the way his friends had treated her after the lies he’d told. But that was nothing compared to what she’d lost. How afraid she’d felt. How guilty she’d felt to know that it must, in some way, have been her fault. That if only she’d done something… She’d worked so hard to get to a place where she didn’t think about it every day, where she could almost pretend that none of it had ever happened.

  And now she’d just given the one man she had to guard against carte blanche to find out about all of it. How the hell was she supposed to make sure she didn’t get her heart broken if she was going to have to let him in?

  Molly glared up at him and said, “This is dirty pool.”

  Declan bent down, put his hands on her knees, and forced them apart. She gasped as he knelt in front of her, between her legs, putting his face close to hers.

  “Bullshit,” he said. “You are here to find out the very worst things about me and then make them sound like fucking virtues. I don’t know how you’re gonna do that, Molly, but I do know you’re going to know some bad stuff before this is over. You want me to show you mine? The least you can do is show me yours.”

  Molly’s abs contracted in time with her hurried, shallow little breaths, her body screaming at her, just electric and alive with the nearness of him, of where he was. Focus. Be a badass.

  “Why?” she said. “Are you actually ashamed? Do you possess the capacity to feel shame?”

  The change in him was immediate. His face darkened, his mouth grew tight. Molly could have handled it just fine if he’d been angry, but his eyes looked sad.

  “You don’t know me yet, Molly,” he said softly. “That was a shallow, bullshit, superficial thing to say, and it was beneath you.”

  She bridled for a minute—beneath her?—before she realized he was right. She didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about his inner life, didn’t know what drove him. Except that something painful had happened six months ago, something bad enough that he had constructed elaborate lies about alcoholism and who knew what else, and she’d just called him shameless.