by Mia McAdams
Wolf
I hate the chase. Fucking hate it, but there’s one thing I hate more. Rejection. What the fuck? How did we get here? It’s been two weeks since our orgasm-a-thon, and we haven’t spoken a word outside of conversations about the tour. Even those are brief and cold—like my showers lately.
Every attempt I’ve made to get Lyric alone has been skillfully thwarted. It seems as if Crawley is on her team, too. The rare moments I spot her alone, targeting her with my eyes before moving in, Crawley is pulling me in a different direction. I get that he doesn’t want the distraction, but it’s my life, my band, my tour, my crew . . . his job description doesn’t include being a cockblock.
If I’m honest with myself, I haven’t made the grandest of attempts to get Lyric alone to talk to her. My ego is still bruised by the words she left me with. I could let her in. Tell her things. If she only knew what my life was like before she walked into that elevator and how vastly different I want it to be now, she wouldn’t be so quick to judge. I never used to think twice about hurting a girl’s feelings. All I cared about was making my intentions clear so I could justify my actions.
What Lyric once said about one-night stands turned out to be completely true. I see that now. One person always has expectations coming out of it. Sex is rarely just sex. Even I know that. But I never cared before because I was never the one getting hurt. Sex has never meant anything more than pure fucking pleasure for me, but now it seems I’m getting a taste of my own medicine.
Lyric may be the only woman I’ll ever want to claim as my own. She’s the only one who makes me crazy at the thought of another guy touching her. Like now, as I stare at her from across my dressing room while she laughs with a guy from security. The same asshole who's made it known to the crew the dirty thoughts he has about Lyric. I want to pummel him. Smash his face into a wall and carry her to our tour bus so I can remind her how my mouth feels on her delicious cave.
Stryder hands me a shot, and I throw it back without thinking. We all drink a little before getting up on stage but save the real partying for after the show if we’re not taking off for a new town right away. We’re in Gilford, New Hampshire tonight and have the night off before heading to Columbus, Ohio first thing in the morning. Which means tonight, we drink.
Lyric’s eyes meet mine from across the room. She’s midlaugh, looking gorgeous as ever with my face plastered on her breasts. I think she wears that shit on purpose. Seeing a hot girl in my clothes is always a turn on, but Lyric kills the competition. Her innocent eyes search mine briefly before turning back to the security dude. I stand to go to her, but she’s already making her exit.
Those little glances she’s been throwing my way recently tell me this isn’t over. Whatever wall she’s put up is starting to crumble. Maybe she needed the past two weeks to help her realize this attraction isn’t going to fade. She has to know there’s been no one else in the time we’ve spent apart.
Lyric is still mine.
I’ll get to the bottom of her resistance, and I’ll fix this. There’s no other fucking option.
The backstage traffic is heavy tonight. Concert security surrounds me as they clear a controlled walking path. Head of security, a big bald dude who I wouldn’t even mess with, leads us toward a waiting area just before the stage. Fans are lined up against the cement-block walls, screaming, reaching for me, begging for autographs, and trying to snap photos. Lights are popping off, faces become spotty, and I hear the roar.
The waiting crowd is already chanting my name as they wait eagerly for my howl—that never gets old—and my adrenaline is now pumping triple speed.
Chaos surrounds me, yet I see her. One glance at Lyric standing on the sidelines causes me to shift my attention. My heart stops. Even with the screaming crowd ahead of me, she’s what I want.
“Over there,” I yell to Rex. I point to Lyric and he nods.
Rex takes over the lead, forcing security to follow until I’m right where I want to be. Directly in front of Lyric. I lean in and brush my lips across her cheek and stop at her ear. “Can we talk? After the show?”
Her eyes are as wide as saucers, but she nods.
I smile, loving that I still have an effect on her. With a quick nip at her ear, I continue the walk to the stage to join my band. I don’t care who just saw my display of affection. Hopefully everyone. Most won’t think anything of it, and the ones who care don’t matter. All that matters is ending this silence between us.
One thing is certain as I cross the backstage gap from the hallway to the stage and hear the crowd noise escalate at the opening chords of our intro—this is going to be a great fucking show.
Three songs in, I speak to the crowd, introduce the band, and kick off “Dangerous Heart.” It’s been a hit since the San Diego show, but now that the song is officially ours, the label has been eating that shit up and promoting it like crazy on social media. We’re recording it at the end of the East Coast tour, which will make for a tired-ass week. It was supposed to be our week off. We rarely get breaks on tour, but when recording get jammed into the schedule, that means less sleep and higher stress for all. I don’t think any of us care, though. We’re excited to release it officially and celebrate our next hit.
“This song you should all fucking know by now. If you don’t, well, pay attention. I stumbled upon these lyrics, and somehow, magically, they became ours. You know those people in life who do things because they love them? Not for the money, not for the fame, but because they have a passion for something? Those people are rare. The writer of this song wants to remain anonymous, but I’ll have you know, she’s the best thing that's stepped into my life. Maybe one day you’ll get to meet her, but for now, this song is called ‘Dangerous Heart.’ ”
I lock eyes with Lyric during the song the way I do every single night. She’s always on the side stage, mad at me or not, supporting the band, supporting me. After the show, I have every intention of showing her, not telling her, what that means to me.
Somehow the backstage crowd has tripled by the time we end our last song. I’m surrounded by security as they part the way, Rex on my tail.
“Who the fuck invited all these people back here?” I explode when I’m in my dressing room. We couldn’t get out the back entrance due to an even bigger crowd outside.
“They’re clearing it now. We can leave in ten,” Crawley says, pacing. “I’ll talk to Lyric.”
My eyes narrow darkly at him. There he goes again. His problem with Lyric is fucking pissing me off. “You and I both know this isn’t Lyric’s doing. How many passes did the label hand over to the radio stations? I want to know whose fault this is. It makes me look like an asshole when I can’t even stop to talk to my fans. I can’t even see them beyond security. It’s not their fault they were all handed badges. They expect to see me.”
“So what do you want to do?” Crawley asks, annoyance in his voice. His uncontrolled stress levels and finger-pointing grates on my last nerve. He needs to be dealt with.
“I can set up a meet and greet,” a voice calls from across the room. Lyric entered at some point and now stands there, calm as ever. “We can have security keep the line moving so it doesn’t take too long, but at least you’ll get to see some of your fans.”
“Okay,” I say immediately.
Crawley’s jaw is ticking, and I can’t for the life of me understand what he has against Lyric. “Fine, but this is on you to set up.” He narrows his eyes at her.
She shrugs. “I said I would.” Without missing a beat, as always, she pulls out her phone and makes a few phone calls to the promotion teams at the radio stations before radioing the head of security to meet her in my dressing room.
For the hour it takes to set everything up and usher the crowds to a private room, my thoughts are all on Lyric. I’m a jumble when I think about what I want to say to her, wondering how I can possibly convince her I’m not a bad guy. And although I’ve never been interested in a relationship with anyone before, s
he makes me want something different. Something more.
Lyric leads me into the private room they’ve set up. I’m happy to see my band here with me. As much as I want this over sooner than it started, it will be good for our fans. They’ve supported us since our early days four years ago, and it’s because of them that we’ve catapulted into headliners. The days of being an opening band are far gone. We want to thank the fans whenever we get a chance.
She stops at the table and turns to me, apparently surprised at how close I am. I smile; she looks away, but I catch the flicker of sadness. Whatever the reason for her avoidance, it cracks the surface of my normally ice cold heart. Okay, I’ve never been heartless, but I’ve never cared to be understood, either. Until Lyric.
“You’re pretty damn amazing, you know that? Thank you for setting this up so quickly. We owe you.”
Her eyes are kind as they settle back on mine. When she smiles, my heart does a summersault in my chest. I instinctively reach for her waist but pull my hands back when I hear the commotion at the door. Sighing, I look at the line of fans shuffling in before turning back to Lyric. “Meet me in the hotel lobby when we’re done here.”
“Okay,” she says. “I’m going there now to get everyone checked in. See you soon.”
It seems natural to lean down and brush my lips against hers, but I don’t for a million damn reasons. I will be kissing those lips, though. Soon, but not soon enough.
My body is wrecked from exhaustion by the time we leave the venue, my eyes fighting to stay open. The guys went straight to the bar after the meet 'n’ greet, so I’m riding back to the hotel with Rex. When I see Lyric waiting for me in the lobby, just as I asked, I want to melt. She changed into black capris leggings and a Wolf hoodie. Fucking gorgeous.
She glances up from her phone and watches me approach, concern etched in her features. “You okay?”
I don’t respond right away. Instead, I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her neck. When I take in her scent, sparks light up my entire body at the sheer pleasure of it. Up until this moment, I’ve respected the distance Lyric was keeping between us, but I can’t stay away from her anymore. It’s killing me. This. Holding her. Breathing her in. It’s everything I’ve always wanted but never knew until I met her.
To my surprise, she returns my embrace and tightens her hold around my waist, filling my chest with warmth. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything. I just need this. And I’m fucking wrecked after today.”
“Should we go somewhere?” Her voice is muffled in my shoulder, but I hear her.
I shake my head. “I can barely keep my eyes open. Let’s go to my room.” She freezes in my hold, so I pull myself away to look her in her eyes. “Just to talk, Lyric. And I want to hold you.” I brush my finger across her cheek, loving the way she looks back at me now—like she’s conflicted but there’s no way she’s going to deny my needs.
“Your room or mine?”
There’s a ridiculous smile on my face when she blushes and leads me to the elevator. We get in, and I wrap my arms around her from behind, never wanting to let go. After tonight, I hope I never do. Once we're safely inside her hotel room, I head for the bathroom first. It’s been nonstop for hours, and my bladder is about to explode. I’d kill for a shower, but I’m not sacrificing any of the precious time I have with Lyric.
She’s sitting on the bed when I enter the room, her feet dangling off the edge and her head down as if she's in deep thought. I sit beside her, making no move to touch her, although it’s all I want to do. I’m surprised when she speaks first. “That was nice what you said about me tonight. On stage.”
I look at her. “I meant it.”
Her next breath is a deep one, drawing my eyes to the rise and fall of her chest, but I catch myself and immediately lift them to her face. Tonight isn’t about sex. Lyric deserves different.
“Look, these two weeks have been hell. I’m not sure if your avoiding me has more to do with Crawley than it does my reputation, but you should know I’m not going to let Crawley be the reason you can’t even look at me anymore. I’ll deal with him.”
Her lids flutter closed for a second, and then her eyes are on me again. I have to suck in a breath to catch myself from throwing her back on the bed and claiming her mouth. “It’s not Crawley. What he said to me didn’t help the situation—”
I heat up immediately. “What did Crawley say?”
She shakes her head. “Some shit about my reputation and your todger.” She surprises me by giggling. It’s so fucking adorable. I melt. “He may have been out of line, but he was right. I’m here to do a job, and it’s obvious I can’t do my job if we’re messing around.”
I groan and turn to face her. “That was the hotel’s mess up, Lyric. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have scrambled to find accommodations for everyone and then paid for it. They fucked up. Not you. Stop beating yourself up. And stop using that as an excuse why you ignored every single one of my messages that night and every attempt I've made to talk to you since. I wanted to respect your space. Part of me started to think maybe the distance was a good thing. What I feel for you isn’t normal—for me. I can’t promise you the world, like you deserve. All I know is I’ve been miserable since that day. It doesn’t help that you have zero reason to think more of me.”
“Wolf, it’s not that I don’t think more of you. You’ve surprised me. I didn’t expect to—” she shakes her head. “I would have slept with you, and then what? You go back to your lineup of women, and I go back to being just your road manager?”
My chest puffs. “Have you seen me so much as talk to any of those women who've come around?”
She doesn’t hesitate before shaking her head, which tells me she’s already thought of this. Good. “I guess not.”
“Why do you think that is?”
She shrugs, avoiding my eyes.
I groan. “Lyric, you’re the only one I see. When I’m singing to a sea of faces, yours is the one I look for. The moment we step back on the bus, you’re the one I want to spend my time with.”
Her mouth drops open, and there are tears in her eyes. “But what does it mean, Wolf? You’ve suddenly changed? And I’m not just talking about the rumors; I’m referring to conversations you and I have had. You told me I wasn’t your type, and then you made it clear that you don’t date. It didn’t matter to me because I didn’t come on this tour looking for anything. I was running away from one thing that was bad for my heart, and I smack right into another.”
My insides squeeze as a tear slips from her eye. I wipe it away the moment it hits her cheek. “It’s a good thing you’re not my type. We both know what I was doing before I met you. I’m not proud of it, and I can’t promise you that I’m a changed man. I don’t know what this is between us, okay? What I can tell you is that I’ll be completely honest with you while we figure this shit out. Because I want to. Don’t you?”
She nods and takes a ragged inhale. I let out a sigh and lean my forehead on hers. “Thank fuck.” She laughs. “Now that we’ve settled that,” I say as I pull her to her feet and tilt her chin up until our eyes meet. “I’m not leaving your side tonight, so either I stay here with you or you come to my room. No sex,” I say, letting the promise linger in the air. “Just let me hold you.”
I hear her intake of breath and it fills me with warmth.
“You can stay.” It’s barely a whisper.
“Good,” I growl with a puff of my chest. Damn, this feels good. Just being here. I don’t want to get up but if I’m going to sleep with Lyric, my balls should be fresh. Even if she won’t be touching them. I cry a little inside. “Before I climb in next to your sexy ass, I need a shower. Don’t disappear on me, okay?”
She smiles shyly and my insides go crazy. What the fuck is wrong with my chest?
“Go,” she says with a little shove.
I’m not sure if jacking off in the shower will help or hurt me tonight, but I do it anyway, praying the release ho
lds me over until I can take care of myself again in the morning. I meant what I said to Lyric about no sex. It wasn’t a lure to get into bed with her. Now, all I have to do is think about the feel of her tits hugging my cock, and I'm fully hard in seconds. The purple beast below my waist is aching for it.
I come in record time and exit the shower, throwing a towel around my waist. After digging around in my overnight bag, I find everything I need. I apply deodorant, run a comb through my hair, and throw on a pair of boxer-briefs, then shorts. It’s suffocating, but safe. After some hesitation I decide to put on a shirt, too.
She’s already under the covers when I flip off the bathroom light and make my way to her. I slip under the comforter and immediately pull her to me so my limp dick is nestled between her ass cheeks and my nose is in her hair. She smells like heaven, and the thin fabric of her tank top is soft against my skin. I brush a strand of her long hair off her neck and dip down to taste the flesh of her shoulder with a light bite, lick, and kiss. Her moan is soft and encouraging, so I do it again. My dick isn’t limp anymore, and I realize tonight might hurt—a lot. She shifts, sliding her ass a little, and I can’t help but push against her.
With a feather-light touch, I drag my fingers down her arm until I reach her hand. Twining our fingers together, I squeeze, and then press my dick against her again. I groan with anticipation. Her breathing comes out in long strings of heavy pants that speak directly to my aching balls. She doesn’t have to tell me she wants me. The tiny noises coming from her throat and the way her ass pushes into me tells me everything I need to know.
“We’re not having sex tonight,” I repeat as she grinds her ass against me, causing me to grit my teeth.
I unravel our fingers, slide my hand back up her body until I reach the bottom of her tank top, and slip it beneath the fabric. I’m addicted to touching her silky soft skin. Moving my hand up further, I grip her bare waist and press into her again. I’m fully solid now. “Turn around.”
