I worried about that enough.
“Shea and Sebastian are just about ready to cut the cake, but before then, I want to say a few things.”
“Of course you do,” Anthony yelled.
Laughter rolled, and I felt the smile pulling at my face, all the while being completely aware of the man who sat across the table behind me.
As if the heated gaze roaming the bare skin of my back was palpable.
Like I could feel the caress of his callused fingertips.
I shivered.
Ash continued, “As you all know, we’re here to celebrate one of my best friends, Sebastian Stone, and his gorgeous wife, Shea.”
He gestured with his head in their direction. They had moved to the cake table. Sebastian’s arms were wrapped around Shea from behind, his chin rested on her shoulder, hands on her belly while little Kallie jumped around at their sides.
Emotion thickened.
“How the guy got lucky enough to marry my Beautiful Shea, I’ll never know,” he cracked with his smirk ticking into place.
“Hey, watch it, man,” Sebastian hollered with a wide smile, holding Shea just a little tighter.
“Just speaking the truth, my friend.” Ash grinned. He held his hand out in a placating fashion. “Now, don’t worry, y’all. Sebastian made me promise if I was going to stand up here and talk to you, I had to be on my best behavior. As if I could ever be bad.”
He winked and I laughed with a shake of my head.
You had to love Ash.
He sobered and glanced around at the guests. “Me and my crew? We’ve all known Sebastian for most of our lives. We all grew up together. Suffered tragedies. Made too many mistakes to count and learned a ton of tough lessons.”
Behind me I felt that severity swell, and I had the overpowering desire to look at him. To see what expression I would find on Lyrik’s face. To know what he’d suffered.
Because I knew it was there, beneath all that bad.
“But we also got to experience some of the best times of our lives.” Ash chuckled low. “Now I was pretty sure none of us were ever gonna get hitched. I thought we had an unspoken pact that the four of us were never falling into that trap. But our boy here definitely did, and he couldn’t have fallen with someone better than Shea.”
He lifted his glass and everyone did the same. “To Shea and Sebastian, may you forever keep falling together. May all your bests be yet to come.”
“Cheers!” echoed through the night, winding with the wind.
We tipped back our glasses, and I swallowed hard and tried to find even ground.
To slow the pounding of my heart.
God, I wished I could leave while a huge part of me wanted to stay.
I felt torn in two.
Shea and Sebastian proceeded to cut the cake, joking around as they fed it to each other while my little world spun on.
Tighter and faster and denser.
So close to spinning from its axis.
And it was that magnet that pulled, pulled, pulled.
I drew in a staggered breath as I felt Lyrik rise to stand behind me.
He strode around the table. His steps were long and strong and purposed, that suit clinging perfectly to his lean, muscled body. The man was so compelling, there was no looking away as he headed for the stage.
He climbed three steps to the top, grabbed an acoustic guitar from a stand, and pulled up a stool in front of the mic before he sat down.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Lyrik and a guitar would be my demise.
Frantic, my gaze flitted around the space, desperate to find a focus.
Anywhere but on him.
He cleared his throat.
I looked back.
Enraptured.
A gust of wind arose, stirring through the trees, and the twinkle lights danced above.
With his index finger, he scratched his temple. As if in that moment this bold, arrogant man felt out of place. He scanned the crowd and let his eyes land on Shea and Sebastian.
His words were deep and wispy and I felt them in my gut. “Baz…like Ash said, I’ve known you most of my life. We’ve had some good times. Victories we never expected. We’ve celebrated and rejoiced and lived this crazy lifestyle to its fullest.”
His tone deepened. “But you were also there at my lowest.”
Sebastian stilled, like he was surprised by the admission.
Lyrik’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. He seemed to have to force out the words. “I want you to know I’m forever grateful that you gave me what you did. Because sometimes one moment…one memory is more important than all the rest combined.”
Baz ran his hand through his hair and looked to the ground. So clearly he was caught up in the rawness of Lyrik’s declaration.
In the vulnerability he showed.
My pulse spiked and my mouth felt dry.
“I can never repay you, but I can say there’s not a soul who deserves to have found what you did. That you got a girl like Shea to love you and she somehow came with an extra bonus of that sweet little girl.”
Kallie danced around, grinning up at Lyrik as if he was the sun.
As if he wasn’t dark and wicked.
As if he didn’t come as a destructive force.
“So tonight, I wanted to play something for your first dance.”
He hooked the heel of his shoe in a rung and adjusted the guitar on his lap. That shock of dark hair flopped to the side and across his forehead as he leaned forward.
Enthralled, I watched as he wrapped his big hand around the neck, tattooed fingers taking the frets. His hand with the rose strummed one echoing chord as his eyes dropped closed.
“To me, a song has always meant more than anything I could ever say, anyway. May these words always be true for the two of you.”
I felt a tug right in the center of my chest.
That thrill shimmered in the air.
The buzz before the strike.
Lyrik plucked at the strings and, in that moment, the only thing I wanted to know was what he kept hidden inside. For him to show me everything.
I stood.
I couldn’t help myself. My feet took me to the very edge of the shadows that hovered around the dance floor.
Drawn.
There wasn’t a soul who would have noticed. The rest of the guests did the same, gathering to watch as Sebastian led Shea onto the center of the floor. Where he pulled her into his arms and danced with her for the first time as husband and wife.
Like the rest of the guests, I should have been watching them.
But I couldn’t.
Because Lyrik leaned in and finally pressed his sensual mouth close to the mic and began to sing.
He was singing Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud.
But his voice.
His voice was raspy and low and filled with emotion so thick I could taste it. Filled with what I could have sworn was prominent in those lonely hours of the night when his songs wept with pain.
I swallowed hard. Desperate for my armor. For all the shields to come up so I could block him from my mind. From the places he was seeping, sinking and submerging and overwhelming.
I was going under.
His entire body tensed as he sang.
Wind whipped through his hair.
Those dark, dark eyes opened and they landed directly on me.
Was it possible he felt this, too?
His voice traveled the air, wrapping me in soft, soft ribbons. Spinning and spinning and spinning. Until they got tighter and tighter.
Suffocating.
Like he was the only thing I could breathe.
Tremors of panic rolled through my body. My heart galloped as he peered at me in the darkness and continued to pour himself into the song he sang for his friend.
He held his voice as the song came to a close. Awe filled the night. Voices silenced.
And I wondered if they could feel it, too.
Lyrik stood, and I rem
ained frozen beneath his gaze.
The hired band reclaimed their spots. Their singer spoke into the mic. “We’d now like to invite the wedding party to share a dance with the bride and groom.”
This…this was what I’d dreaded.
But now that dread shivered through me in little shocks of excitement.
Dazed, I took two steps forward onto the dance floor.
At the same time, Lyrik strode down the three stairs, dark, dark beauty radiating from each step.
Tattoos peeked out from beneath his tailored suit. The perfect opposition of gritty and straight-laced.
God.
No man should look that good.
He stalked my direction as the band struck up.
I trembled. Fisted my hands. Hands that seemed desperate to touch.
Was I really going to just stand here and let this happen? Whatever this was?
Hot hands landed on my sides.
I felt as if I’d been electrocuted.
A bright burst of light flashed behind my eyes.
Body alive.
He tugged me closer, up against his heat and hard and destructive beauty.
I pressed my hands to his chest, desperate for space. For a way to keep from feeling like this. Instead, my fingers curled into his suit jacket.
He pulled me tighter, wrapping me in strong arms.
They felt safe.
His breath tickled across my face, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“I have never seen a girl look as good as you look tonight,” he mumbled at my temple. “Stole my breath when you stepped through that church door and started down the aisle. So fucking sexy, dressed up like an angel when I know you’ve got a little bit of demon hiding underneath.”
He splayed one hand across the small of my back. The other set a trail of flames as he ran it all the way up my spine until he was cupping the side of my neck. Forcing me to look at him. Long fingers twisted through the curls that had been ironed into my hair. “Can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop watching you. Can’t stop wanting you. What is it you think you’re trying to do to me?”
That palm at the small of my back drew me closer. Up against his cock that pressed hard into my belly.
Oh God.
My knees wobbled, and that fear trembled free. But it was overshadowed by the want roaring through my veins. Stomach tight. Legs quivering.
“This…this is what you do to me. One fucking look, one touch, and I’m dying for something I know I shouldn’t have. Because you,” he chuckled darkly, “you do things to me you shouldn’t. It’s driving me damned near out of my mind knowing you’re just a few footsteps away, right outside my door, and I can’t have you.”
I fought for my senses, clutched his jacket a little tighter. “We’re a terrible idea.”
Hard, harsh laughter rocked from him, so low that only I could hear. It came at me like a warning. “Make no mistake, Red. I don’t want an us. I’ll be the first to admit it. I’m an asshole. I’m not wired that way. Not anymore.”
Not anymore.
God, I was a fool. Self-preservation floored. Because right then? All I wanted to ask him was what that meant. To dig deep and sink in.
Discover who was hiding underneath.
I knew it. Felt it.
He was just like me.
His voice dropped lower, a wisp at my ear. “But what I want is you. I want to take you back to my place, unwrap you like a gift, and look at you laid out on my bed. I want to touch you and taste you and explore you. Make you lose your mind, kinda the way you’ve been making me lose mine. Tell me what you want, Red.”
Shivers slid down my spine.
He pressed his mouth to the side of my neck and mumbled the words at my skin. “All you have to say is no. Say no and I’m gonna walk and never going to look your way again.”
I got the feeling he was begging me, begging me to say no.
A loud guitar strum reverberated through the speakers. The song played out. Over.
“All right, all right,” the singer shouted, his voice amped up as he spoke into the microphone. “It’s time to get things shaking around here. Everyone on the dance floor.”
It shook us both from the daze and back into this painful reality.
They launched into one of those seventies disco songs that no generation could resist.
I took two fumbled steps back and stared across the short space at the man who was panting. Looking as if he was ready to pounce. To destroy, plunder, and desolate.
“Uncle Wyrik…Uncle Wyrik, dance with me! Dance with me! Imma butterfly!”
Kallie was at his side, jumping up and down with her arms in the air.
Warily, he looked between us, his chest heaving. He lifted her. Her grin grew wide with joy as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He cast me one last pleading glance before he turned away and started dancing with her.
Bouncing her and swinging her and making her howl with laughter.
Tremors rolled and the air turned cold.
Fear gripped me tight.
I can’t feel this.
And like a coward, I turned and ran.
After all, running was what I did best.
I drove directly to my apartment. I cut the engine and sat in the silence for a few moments, trying to reorient myself.
To regain control.
Pushing out a breath, I opened the door and stepped into the night. Gusts of wind stole the peace, cutting through the trees and tumbling along the ground.
Climbing the stairs, I held the railing, slowly pulling my weary body up. My heels dangled from the fingers of my free hand, my head lowered.
Staggering loneliness swamped me.
Rushed over me.
Wave after wave after wave.
I hated how bad it hurt.
I wanted to put up my shields and lift my chin and paint that hard, fierce scowl on my face.
But I was getting weak.
The faintest flash of lightning lit up somewhere in the far distance and my hair whipped around my head.
I mounted the last step onto the stoop and headed toward my door.
A deep, hard rumble echoed through the air. Drawing closer. Coming nearer.
It trembled through me like energy and light and life.
God.
Was he chasing after me?
Why was he doing this?
I knew I should run. Lock myself in my apartment and never come out.
But I was frozen with my hand on the doorknob.
A bright light blinded my eyes as Lyrik eased his bike into his spot. He planted his feet as he came to a stop. The engine grumbled and rolled, the sound beating through my heart and pulsing through my veins.
He killed the engine and the headlight dimmed.
The street lamp filtered in from above in a milky haze. Playing across his face as shadows.
And I wondered if I was wired wrong. If I gravitated toward assholes and manipulators and those who would only bring me pain.
Because my want for him was greater than the fear that clogged my throat. Greater than the knowledge that when he was finished, he was going to leave me behind.
Desolate me.
It was all supposed to be contained.
Concealed and buried and camouflaged.
The perfect masquerade.
All feeling corralled.
Suppressed.
With the man staring up at me and me staring down at him, I dug deep for conviction. For the confidence I’d found. In who I’d become.
I was Tamar King.
And Tamar King was nobody’s slave.
I held complete and utter control.
But Lyrik West single-handedly made me feel as if I was losing that control. I could feel it unraveling. Pieces splintering. Ripping and snapping.
He lifted himself from the bike and straightened to standing.
So tall and menacing and beautiful.
Alarm flashed.
<
br /> “You left,” he said, voice hard.
“And you followed,” I whispered back.
Every promise I’d ever made myself rolled through me on a vicious cycle. The ones I’d made to myself when I was just a little girl. When I was bold, excited, and brave, and had wanted to experience everything in life at least once.
They clashed with the ones I’d made when I was twenty. When I’d turned my back on the girl of my youth and became this hard girl who needed absolutely nothing in her life but herself.
Lyrik slowly mounted the steps.
Relentless.
He stopped at the top. His dark eyes swallowed me whole.
In the distance, thunder rolled. I looked that direction.
“A storm’s coming,” I murmured quietly. I could feel it, gathering in the air. I kept my attention trained on the furor gaining speed, not sure I could continue looking at Lyrik without completely succumbing.
He said nothing as he came closer.
I finally looked toward him as he moved to back me against the door. His hands went to either side of my head.
And again, this dangerous man caged me in.
And I felt vulnerable and small and brave.
Those little girl promises swirled.
I didn’t want to be scared anymore.
Didn’t want to be alone.
“Give me one night. Show me who you are. Show me that anger. Show me why. Fight it out with me with that hot little body.” His words were harsh and desperate. “Or tell me no, Red, tell me no. Say it, and I’ll walk away.”
Fear blasted across my skin, mixing with the fire Lyrik had set.
Together, the two were combustible.
My breath heaved from my lungs.
“I can’t.”
I INCHED FORWARD AND pressed her closer to the wall. She looked up at me with wild blue eyes. They roiled like a tormented sky. I brushed my nose along her temple and inhaled. She smelled so damned good. A touch of cinnamon and a whole lot of spice.
This girl made me lose my head. Fuck. She made me lose my head.
If I were in my right mind, I would walk. I would turn right around and walk away and never look back. Just like I’d promised her I would. I knew it deep. Knew it like the setting of the sun that led me into the darkness night after night.
This was gonna end bad. Just the fact I was chasing her was evidence enough.
But right then? I didn’t care because I wasn’t close to feeling sane.
Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3) Page 8
