Easy laughter rumbled through the air and thrummed through my chest. He wrapped both his arms around my waist, making me sigh, and he tugged me against him. With a glimmer in his eyes, he raked his teeth over his bottom lip. “What, you’d rather go back to your place? I’m okay with that.”
“Oh, you think this is about location? I was thinking more about your ability to please.”
“Baby, I know all about location. And there’s no question about my ability to please. You just let me know when you’re ready for it.”
My own laughter rolled, and I wound an arm around his neck. It felt too easy. Too good. The two of us batting back and forth. Though now it was done without an ounce of the animosity it’d held before. I blinked up at him with wide eyes. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”
He gave me a grin I felt rock the earth, before his expression shifted. It filled with a softness I was just coming to recognize in this man. He ran his fingers through my hair, his head tipped back enough to fully take me in. “Thank you.”
My throat tightened, and I felt the crease form on my brow. “For what?”
He glanced away, as if he were struggling, before looking back. “For trusting me. It’s been a long time since someone has.”
He seemed to shake himself off, and he took a step back, grabbed the helmet he’d left waiting on the ground, and extended his hand. “Come on, let’s go or we’re going to be late.”
“Late, huh? Should I start making guesses at where you’re taking me?”
“Nope.” He glanced back at me as he led me down the exterior stairs. “Have you ever been on a bike before?”
A pang hit me hard and I stumbled a step. I forced it down and buried it where it belonged. “Yeah…a few times.”
Back when I was brave and believed the world was at my feet. Back before he’d ruthlessly brought me to kneel at his.
“Good…then I won’t have to go easy on you, Red,” Lyrik said with mischief.
A light chuckle rolled from me. Not that I ever imagined this boy would.
In front of his bike, he turned to me and placed the open-faced helmet on my head. Those eyes flicked all over my face as he worked the straps under my chin. Taking my hand again, he straddled the bike, his long legs stretched wide for balance, the man so intensely beautiful for a moment it stuttered my heart.
I sucked in a steadying breath. He never let me go as he guided me to climb on behind him.
I trembled a little when I did, old memories coming fast, just as fast as my downfall had. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around Lyrik’s waist and pressed my nose into his T-shirt right below his neck. Breathed in his severity. His heat. His danger. And somehow I didn’t feel scared.
He kicked the engine over, and his Harley rumbled to life. Gleaming chrome vibrated with power. A little like the man at its helm. “Hold on tight,” he yelled as he tucked me closer, his hand protective on my thigh. Right over the serpent tattoo he seemed a little obsessed with.
Temptation.
This tattoo had come later.
I got it as a reminder of how easily we can be blinded by the things we might want. By the things that might not necessarily be good for us.
Like that extra piece of candy I had always wanted that my mother would have warned would be too much because it might cause a belly ache or rot my teeth.
Lyrik rolled us back with his feet, before he took to the street.
And I knew I was defenseless to this temptation. Whatever path he led me down, I would follow, whether he would hurt or heal.
Somehow I knew he would bring me both.
The bike ate up the road as Lyrik traversed the quaint Savannah streets. Heat blasted at my face and the engine roared. Shade blinked across my eyes, the trees tall and proud and offering their relief from the intense summer warmth. Still, I blistered with it, my insides on fire, my skin alive, as I held on to this menacing boy as he took me for a ride.
Wherever he wanted me to go.
Trust.
It was a precarious thing. But it was there.
Five minutes later, he eased into a parallel parking spot running the street in the Historic District not that far from our apartments. The sign hanging outside the shop on the ground floor of the old building directly in front of us boasted it’s offering.
Tattoos.
A stir of unease twisted through my stomach.
Lyrik helped me off, and I just waited while he unfastened my helmet and hooked it over the handlebar.
He eyed me, the bright gold and gray flecks reflected in the black. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked.
Wringing my hands, I looked warily toward the shop. “We’re getting tattoos?”
Smiling, he tugged at my hand and walked backward in some kind of excitement as he edged toward the shop. “Figured it’d be fitting, right?”
I hesitated.
“Come on, Red.” A razzing tease coated his tone. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little needle.”
He let his gaze travel my body that was not nearly as inked as his, but still, it was blatantly clear I was no stranger to the gun.
“No…I’m just…” I blinked as I searched for the right description. God. This was stupid. What was I supposed to say?
“I’m happy,” I settled on, hoping that would pacify him.
He quirked a brow, his words slowed as if he couldn’t possibly keep up with my craziness. “And you…don’t get tattooed…when…you’re…happy?”
I’d always gotten tattooed for one reason and one reason only.
I did it to cover up what Cameron Lucan left behind.
That feeling stirred through me.
Fight or flight.
Funny how I’d thought I’d been fighting all along. Standing tall. An impenetrable fortress that could never be knocked down.
Really, all I’d been doing was running.
For far too long.
I sucked in a deep breath, hiked up on my toes, and pressed a kiss to his flirty mouth. “Let’s do this.”
Grinning, his excitement reappeared. He turned to pull the door open and gestured for me to go ahead of him. He stopped me just as I was passing the threshold, and he dipped down so he could whisper in my ear. “What are you going to get?”
What was I going to get?
Lyrik was smiling. This complex, complicated, infuriating man who I wanted to dig inside of until I discovered all there was to find. Until the only thing I knew was him.
Or maybe until he turned my reflection back on me.
Yeah. I was going to get something I should have gotten a long time ago.
“How about instead of telling you, I let you see it later?”
His smile curved into a smirk. “Ah, Red, I like the way you think.”
Neither of us had showed the other our new tattoos, the art covered and taped up throughout the rest of our first date. If that’s what you wanted to call it. But it felt like one. Like we were just beginning even though we’d put an expiration date on whatever this was.
Dinner had been easy. The two of us had joked around the entire time, never traversing into the serious topics that seemed to hover unanswered around us.
The truth was, I couldn’t help but feel this niggle of pride at what I’d gotten permanently etched on myself. It was so different than what I typically used to conceal the damage. So different from what I wore as armor.
It was hope.
Because for the first time in a long time, I felt it. Because for the first time in a very long time, someone had taken the time to break that armor down. To really step back and look at me.
Now I held tight to his beautiful body as we rode the streets. Heat comforted like a familiar caress as the wind whipped against our faces.
Lyrik made a few quick turns back in the direction of our apartment building, his movements fluid and skilled. When we neared, he slowed, and his feet came out to balance us as he eased into his spot.
He killed the engine.
> Silence swallowed us whole and a hushed anticipation trembled in the heavens.
Or maybe it was my hands and the butterflies that wouldn’t sit still in my belly.
God, this wasn’t me. A bundle of anxious nerves. Not until Lyrik West rode in and changed all the rules.
I hugged him tight one last time, as if I needed to give myself a buoy of reassurance. Slowly, he swiveled a fraction on the seat. Those dark eyes were appraising. As if he could see right through me to every fear I had hiding inside.
Slowly, he unwound my hands that were clamped around his waist and guided me to stand. Never releasing me, he swung his leg over the bike and stood.
Rising to his full height.
Stealing my breath. My thoughts. Overtaking my mind.
I was on such dangerous ground. I could feel it shaking underneath.
He brushed the back of his hand across my cheek. His potency both sweet and severe. “You say the word, and this night ends right here.”
I gazed up at him. My heart rate sped in fear and adrenaline and want. And again, I didn’t want to be afraid. “I don’t want it to end.”
Not at all.
Thoughtful eyes gauged, before he leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead where he murmured his promise. “Slow.”
Slow.
Overwhelming gratitude welled in my chest. It was crazy how this intimidating boy could so easily set me at ease.
Giving me time when I’d had no idea until two nights ago just how desperately I was going to need it.
He glanced back as he led me up the stairs. “My place or yours?”
“Yours.”
He turned the key in the lock and led us into the waiting darkness of his apartment. Muted lights from the Savannah street outside his French doors trickled in from below, the living room cast in dancing shadows.
He moved aside. “It’s all yours.”
I wandered into his living room. Over my shoulder, I looked back at him when I realized the disaster I’d stumbled upon last Wednesday had been cleaned.
With his index finger, he scratched at his temple. There was something absurdly endearing about him when he seemed unsure of himself, and another rigid part of my exterior creaked with the pressure.
“Uh…I picked up a bit since the last time you were here.”
Funny how that day seemed a lifetime ago.
I smiled back at him and tried to force a tease as I looked around the space. “Ah…it looks like you need to add Mr. Clean to your list of alter egos…or did you really sneak someone in here to get this place in shape to impress me?”
My smile faded when I looked back again to where he lingered near the door. My head drifted to the side to take him in as his expression shifted through a thousand emotions.
Regret. Sorrow. Lust.
And a longing that nearly brought me to my knees.
Desire trembled through my body.
I wanted to crawl inside him.
To discover every secret.
Even though I got the crushing feeling knowing him would be the end of me.
Cautiously, he edged forward.
Tall.
Beautiful.
Strong.
The air filled up with him. So thick I wasn’t sure I could breathe.
Gently he wound his fingers through my hair. Not so gently he tugged my head back and pinned me with that stare. Slowly he dipped down, my stomach in a thousand blissful knots as he left a dizzying trail of kisses down my neck.
Soft, silken lips.
Little flicks of tongue.
Tingles spread in a wildfire of sensation.
Then his voice was at my ear. Whispering belief. “Blue.”
Blue. Blue. Blue.
She was so scared and unsure and innocently brave. Because she wanted all the things I’d learned the hard way the world didn’t have to give. But she wanted me to fight for them anyway.
Callused fingertips trailed down my sides, and I trembled when they edged under the hem of my shirt. Skin to skin.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice like gravel.
My answer scraped from my throat. “Yes.”
Lyrik pulled my tee over my head, slow but sure.
A cool rush of air sent a rush of chills skating free across the flames. My chest heaved as Lyrik stared down at me in my jeans and bra. Eating me up with that irresistible intensity.
I knew my eyes were wild as I looked up at him. My pulse hammered and my spirit thrashed.
“Blue,” he murmured again as he went down onto his knees. He peeked up at me every few seconds as he worked the bandage free from my side. My belly shook as he peeled the bandage away and exposed the statement that had been etched into my side over my ribs, from my hip bone to just under my arm pit on the left side. And I knew the area needed to be cleaned. But somehow right then, I didn’t care.
I just wanted him to see.
The four simple letters were written in a big, scrolling font, and swirls and flowers extended from the first and last letters.
Rise.
Lightly, he drummed his fingertips over the design, not quite touching the raw skin.
His unyielding gaze latched onto mine. “I think you already have.”
Uneasily, I shook my head. “No…for a year, you’ve been chasing a runner. All I’ve done is hide while pretending I was strong.” A pained breath left me. “But that’s not me, Lyrik. All of this…” I waved my hand over my body, “it’s just a show.”
He pushed to his feet. His body moved in a slight sway. Mine followed. That magnet I couldn’t escape.
I was helpless to this fascinating man.
He placed his palm on my neck, and his thumb traced along my collarbone. “No.”
Obsidian eyes flashed, and he leaned in closer. “This girl…this bold, brave girl. She’s a part of you. I see her. She’s real. Red,” he murmured on a sigh, brushing his lips against mine.
He pulled back to look at my face. “But maybe…maybe you’re just outgrowing that season of your life. Maybe you don’t need her as bad as you used to and now Blue is bleeding through. Maybe she wants to be heard, too. To have a voice in your life.”
Blinking through the tears, I shook my head. “How could you know?”
It wasn’t a rebuttal or defense.
It was concession.
Surrender.
His mouth fell against mine.
Hard.
Unyielding.
His big hands wrapped around me, way up high, heated palms flat at the center of my upper back. Lifting me to him.
I sank all the way in. Into his kiss and his hold and his violently beating heart.
“I don’t know who he is…what he did,” he muttered, the words almost maniacally interwoven with our kiss. He never broke for air. Instead, he was stealing it. Stealing everything. Sanity and light and fear.
“But with me? Your safe word is no. You got that, Blue? None of that playing games bullshit. This…this is real. And if it gets too much…you say it. You say it. All you have to say is no.”
He pulled back, lines carved into his face like a plea. “Do you hear me?”
Affection poured free.
“I hear you.”
My fingers dug into his shoulders because I could no longer stand.
A needy sound slipped up my throat, and he pushed me up against the wall.
It was so familiar to where we’d been two nights ago.
But everything…everything was different.
An age gone in the understanding of his touch.
And he was soft and gentle and rough.
Careful yet challenging.
And he was suddenly back on his knees.
My back pressed against the wall for support as I panted for breath.
Unzipping my boots, he pulled them off, then his adept fingers were flicking free the buttons of my jeans.
Those palms were suddenly on my bare thighs, gliding down to rid me of my jeans. He placed kisses
at my belly as he did.
I gasped and bucked.
His mouth turned gentle and soft as he breathed at the front of my lacy underwear.
Oh. God.
He hooked his fingers in the edges. “All you have to say is no.”
But I had no breath or words, and if I did, I would have been begging him for more. Instead, I wove my fingers through the softness of his hair.
Drawing him closer in a silent plea.
He groaned. “Blue.”
Cool air hit me as he dragged my panties free. His hands slid all the way down to twist them from my ankles, then slid all the way back up until he was gripping me at both thighs, staring up at me with all that darkness. Pulling me deeper. Taking me further.
Leaning in, he licked deep in my folds and dragged his tongue all the way to my clit. Never once did he break the fierce gaze.
A shudder and a moan and a whimpered, “Yes.”
That was all the approval he needed. He hooked my leg over his shoulder and pulled my ass away from the wall, his hands gripping it as he hauled me closer and devoured every last sensibility.
Barreled through every wall and shattered every defense.
He licked and sucked and fucked me with his mouth until I was a quivering mess in his capable hands.
Until I could feel the current running through my chest. Until I could feel the trembles of warning that rippled through the dense air. Energy crackled. Bristled across my skin and shook me to my bones.
As if nitrogen and oxygen had come alive.
As if every element in the air was combustible.
Explosive.
The buzz before the strike.
I was aware that in the mere flash of a second and without warning I could be consumed by the force. By nature and blinding light.
Incinerated.
He pushed two fingers into my sex.
I exploded beneath the intensity. Carried into the storm. Into heat and fire and blinding light.
Flash after flash after flash.
Powerless.
Burned.
Branded.
I slumped back and slid down the wall. Right into his arms.
He held me, kissed me, and ran his fingers through my hair. “Blue…brave, beautiful Blue.”
My world rocked, I kissed him back. I rose onto my knees as I steadied myself on his shoulders.
Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3) Page 12
