Savaged Dreams: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 1

by Jennifer Lyon

  “Sorry,” she said into the phone. “How are you?” She kept an eye out for the Jagged Sin guys. They had the next practice time.

  “It’s you I’m worried about. It’s not like you to hide something. Why is it taking so long to hear on this internship? And why won’t you tell me the company?”

  Crap. Tension tightened the back of her neck. For weeks she’d informed her aunt she was applying for several internships, which was true. Then she’d said it was down to one. “I told you, it’s a big company in Los Angeles. I’d only intern over the summer, mostly getting coffee, making copies, monitoring social media accounts, that kind of thing.”

  “What if they find out who you are?”

  She gripped the phone, squeezing her eyes shut. Her throat ached with the words: I’m more than that one night. More than one bad decision. But Liza didn’t lash out or lose her temper. Her aunt and uncle had done too much for her. “It won’t matter. I’ll just be doing grunt work, not dealing with the clients.” Before her aunt could lecture her on how it did matter, she added, “I have to get to a meeting. Please don’t worry.”

  “Liza, wait.”

  She repressed a sigh. “What?”

  “Just promise me you’re staying out of trouble. Not drawing attention to yourself, drinking or dating the wrong kind of boys.”

  Wrong kind of guy? Like Justice? Lead singer of a rock band, covered in tats, had a record…

  Guilt plopped his fat, ugly ass down on her chest. Nothing like dating a reality TV star to not call attention to herself. “Everything is fine here. I’ll call you next week.” She hung up and dropped her forehead against the wall. What was she doing? Walking a tightrope over an alligator pit while slathered in yummy chicken guts.

  One wrong step and she’d tumble down into a pit of snapping jaws.

  “A meeting, huh?”

  Startled, Liza spun around. Justice stared back, one eyebrow lifted in silent challenge.

  “Uh…what are you doing?”

  “Looking for you. I saw you rush out. Annoying phone call?”

  How much had he heard? “My aunt.” The pressure built in her chest, and before she could think, she blurted out, “She’s worried I’m drawing the wrong kind of attention, getting drunk, and/or dating the wrong kind of guys.”

  Justice leaned in. “Like me?”

  Her mouth dried as his scent washed over her. His jaw was covered in sexy stubble, his eyes challenging. “Exactly like you.” Yep, she was teetering over the alligator pit. Tension popped and sizzled between them.

  “Get a move on, J. Sloane’s waiting for us at the gym.” Lynx stopped by them. “Hi, Liza, thought you left.”

  “Nope. Who’s Sloane? Some kind of personal trainer?” They had those at the gym, right? Not like she’d know. Going to the gym sounded a lot like going to the doctor’s, only more painful and exhausting.

  Lynx laughed. “Not quite. Sloane Michaels is a UFC Heavyweight Champion. We’re going to spar and work out with him.”

  Liza jerked her gaze to Justice. “You’re what? UFC? That’s, uh, like fighting? He’s a fighter?”

  “Does that worry you?” Justice asked.

  “Of course it does. The next Court of Rock show is a week from Monday. What the hell do you think you’re doing sparring with some fighter? What if you hurt your hands? Your ribs? Your voice?” Furious, she glared at both of them. “No.”

  Lynx swiveled his head to Justice. “Did our little publicist just forbid us?”

  Justice folded his arms over his chest. “That’s what I heard.”

  “Huh. She’s cute. See you there?”

  “Yep.”

  Lynx sauntered off.

  “Hey.” Liza yelled after him. “You can’t fight. What if you hurt your hands? How will you drum then?”

  Lynx strode back to her. “Even with two broken hands, I’d be on that stage giving it my all. Nothing is going to hold me back.” Then he turned and vanished around a corner.

  Liza whipped around to glare at Justice. “And you?”

  “Relax, Beth. We’ve both trained with Sloane for years. So did River. We were all in the Fighters to Mentors program together. Sloane’s better than us, but he’s not going to hurt us.”

  “What if he does accidently? And what kind of moron gets into a ring or whatever with a professional fighter?”

  “You’re looking at him—if it’s Sloane.” He slapped his hand on the wall and lowered his face to hers. “That’s what makes me bad, sweetheart. The wrong choice for you according to your aunt. I’ll take the risk. And that’s exactly what you want, why you’re drawn to me. Because you want to take the risk too.”

  He hit that so dead center, it took her breath away. For years she’d been flying under the radar, afraid to let anyone know who she was or see the real her. She plucked at the oversized sweater she wore. Again. “I think you’re right.”

  He opened his mouth, when the sound of feet coming down the stairs and laughing voices announced the rest of the band making their way offstage. Grabbing her hand, he yanked open a door, tugged her in and closed it.

  The automatic overhead lights went on, revealing one side with a long row of mirrors and tables. The other side had individual curtained stalls. At the end was a sofa and a couple chairs. “Dressing room.”

  Justice walked her back to the first mirror. “Yep. The perfect place to take off your sweater.” He eased her messenger bag from her shoulder and set it on the table. “Or leave it on.”

  She couldn’t quite get a handle on him. “Are you commanding or suggesting?”

  “Your choice.” He caught her chin in a gentle hold. “It’s always your choice. You’re perfectly capable of telling me to fuck off.”

  Her mouth dried, and flutters danced low in her belly from the way he said that, completely confident she would speak up. “Or kneeing you in the balls.” A smile spread over her face. “I took a class.”

  “On kneeing balls? Is that required for your communications degree?”

  “Self-defense. I consider it a backup form of communication. But nope, not required for my degree. Just my safety.”

  “You just got sexier.”

  “Seriously?” He liked that about her?

  “Oh yeah. Confidence is hot.” His gaze dropped. “I’m desperate to kiss you until I’m so hard I can’t walk and you’re so wet…”

  “What? So wet that what?” She’d really asked that? But she wanted to know. She’d never felt this hot wash of exciting desire edged with danger. Justice was taking her into a world that had been forbidden to her since she was fourteen. And she wanted to go, more than she’d ever realized.

  His eyes glittered. “You beg me to make it better.”

  Excitement pounded through her, throbbing at every pulse point until her skin ached for him to touch her, her lips tingled and her nipples tightened. “Will you?”

  “Hell yeah, but not until you’re ready. And definitely not here where someone else might hear your cries when you come. Only me, Beth.” He stepped back. “Do you want to take off the sweater?”

  Any shred of fear, of needing the barrier, vanished. Justice had seen her without her sweaters. She stripped it off.

  * * *

  Jesus, the girl was going to kill him. Liza had her hair in a ponytail, very little makeup and her dark-rimmed glasses perched on her straight nose. He suspected she thought it made her invisible.

  Not fucking likely. Not with those green eyes and that smart mouth.

  But when she took the sweater off?

  His guts clenched, and his blood ran hot. Fire licked down his spine. She had on an oversized coral T-shirt that draped over her breasts and down her front. He barely noted the shirt was longer in back than front. She had on dark leggings or whatever they were called.

  His skin prickled as his blood rushed to his dick. Closing the distance, he sank his fingers into her hair, finding the band and easing it out. Her wild, silky locks fell free, curling around his hands.
The sensation rippled straight to his cock.

  She looked up, her eyes shimmering with a combination of wary innocence and brazen need. The effect punched him low and hard. Trust, Cade. She trusts you. Don’t screw this up.

  Some distant voice tried to warn him to walk away, to leave this girl alone.

  But one look at her full lips with that light coating of gloss and he was lost. He fisted his hand deep in her fire-licked locks and kissed her. God, the first tentative touch of her tongue to his undid him. Sweeping her up, he planted her ass on the makeup table and pushed her thighs open. Tilting her head, he dove into her mouth until all his awareness centered on his blood pounding and Beth.

  His Beth. Soft, hot and his.

  She broke the kiss, leaning her head back and exposing her throat.

  Taking that as an invitation, he kissed over her satiny skin to her pulse point. He kept going, tugging the neckline of her shirt down to the swell of her breast. Pale flesh spilled over a black bra.

  Justice sucked in a breath, fighting his primal need to touch and taste, to possess this girl with the big tits, smart mouth and way-too-vulnerable heart. “You’re sexy as fuck.” Unable to resist, he cupped her breast over her bra, thumbing that hard nipple while kissing the mound.

  Greed snapped at him. He wanted to strip her naked, lay her on this table and lick her everywhere.

  When she shuddered, he drew down her bra, her flesh spilling free. The dark-tipped nipple the color of ripe raspberries enticed him mercilessly. Closing his lips over that rigid tip, he sucked.

  Liza shuddered, her fingers digging into his hair. “Justice.”

  The hot need coating her voice rammed into him. Right on the edge of mad lust, he pulled back.

  Had to. Now. Or he’d go too far, too fast. Releasing her, he yanked his head up, dragging in air. In the mirror he caught sight of his face. Flushed, eyes too bright. Nearly wild.

  She did this to him.

  “You stopped.”

  Get ahold of yourself. He tugged her bra cup and shirt up, then framed her face with his palms. His cock ached like a mother. But when he saw the unfocused trust in her eyes and shameless desire coloring her skin, it was worth it. He dropped his forehead to hers. “Not here. Screw my workout. Let’s go to dinner. I’ll take you anywhere you want, then we’ll go to my house. Or yours.” Wherever she was more comfortable.

  “I can’t.”

  The hard catch in her voice concerned him. Was she apprehensive? Or frustrated? Pulling back a little to see her eyes, he asked, “Not ready?” He could handle that. “Then let’s go to dinner and do something fun.” He just wanted to be with her.

  “No. I mean, I don’t know if I’m ready. I was a minute ago.” Her smile tilted. “But I really do have a meeting for a group project. We only have another week to get it done.”

  Disappointment rolled over him, but he banked it. She had a life, they both did. “Tomorrow night we have the USS Midway event. Go with me.”

  “I’ll be there. I have a pass in my packet from Tangent and Court of Rock.”

  She wasn’t getting this. “Together. I’ll pick you up, and make sure you get home.” Safely. Now that he knew her past, a fierce protectiveness had taken hold of him.

  “A date.”

  “Yes. We won’t make a big thing of it at the event and draw too much attention to you.” He got that she didn’t want any undo notice focused on her. “But we’ll be there together.”

  Her gaze searched his, and finally she smiled. “It’s a date, rock star.”

  * * *

  “Wait, what did I do?” Liza cried, reaching through the cell bars of the brig on the USS Midway. “Come on, guys, let me out.”

  Simon crossed his arms. “Nope.” He laughed as River took a dozen pictures with her camera.

  Gray had her phone, which she’d foolishly unlocked and handed to him, thinking he’d take a fun picture of her in the brig.

  “Don’t you dare post those.”

  Gray lifted her cell up. “Oh look at this cool little FB app. What do you think, guys? Does it go to our little publicist’s personal account? Or our band page?”

  “Gray.” He wouldn’t, would he? “I don’t post my picture on social media.” She’d wanted to be part of the college crowd, so she used avatars and kept it all low profile so she could follow her friends without calling too much attention to herself.

  Lynx frowned at her. “Why not? You look hot in that dress.”

  Liza rattled the door, trying not to let that compliment get to her. “Not everyone wants to flex their tatted biceps every time they see a camera. Now let go.” She glared at the drummer who held it shut.

  “Simon, hold this,” Lynx said. “I’m going to go get some bread and water. That’ll make a great picture.”

  Simon grabbed hold of the door, and Lynx trotted off.

  “Justice, are you just going to stand there?” Liza demanded.

  “Of course not.” He spun round. “Lynx, make sure Beth’s water is in a sealed bottle.” He shifted to Gray. “Don’t post the pics. We’ll just hold them as blackmail to keep our publicist in line.” Returning to her, he grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  “Works for me.” Gray took more pics.

  “Jerk. You’re all jerks.” She would not laugh, nope. She didn’t mind being the target of their teasing, it made her feel like part of the group. But what touched her the most was the way Justice slid in the reminder that he had her back by insisting they bring a sealed bottle of water for her and telling them not to post any pictures. Yeah, he was watching out for her. It made her feel protected and happy.

  “Beg us some more,” River said. “I’ve got the camera set to video now.”

  She would not. Instead she stuck her nose up in the air. “Don’t you think imprisoning me is a little bit of an overreaction? I only made a suggestion.”

  Gray lowered her phone. “That I fall overboard and the other guys jump in to rescue me.”

  Okay, yeah, now that she heard it repeated back to her, it was a little over the top. She was saved from having to think up an answer by the crowd coming down the hall.

  “Wendy,” a male voice cried. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Oh it so is.”

  Lynx bounded in with some kind of basket and a few bottles of water, followed by a bunch of girls and a guy.

  Liza eyed the Fury Run band members tugging their publicist with them, and urging him into the brig with her. She sighed. “Hey, Karl, they harassing you too?”

  He shoved his hair back out of his face. “Your drummer suggested it.” Karl crossed his arms over his skinny chest and glared at Wendy. “I’m using a wide angle next time I take a picture of you. Your ass will look like a truck.”

  The lead singer tossed her bright pink hair. “Can we beat them with a hose or something? Oh I know.” She reached into the basket Lynx held and lobbed a dinner roll at them.

  Karl caught it and took a bite. Once done, he grinned at Liza. “First thing she said to me when I met her was, ‘Don’t make my ass look big.’”

  Liza laughed. “Rock egos, what can you do?” She, Karl and the third liaison, Nikki, were fast becoming competitive friends. Karl wasn’t the least bit afraid of the Fury Run chicks. Nikki was having a harder time building a relationship with her band. Liza had seen her a couple times tonight, and the girl looked exasperated.

  “We can leave them down here. No one will find them ’til Monday.” Wendy flashed an evil grin their way. “Except the rats.”

  River took a few more shots with Liza’s camera, then lowered it. “So what did yours do?”

  Wendy gestured toward the cell. “He got an idea by seeing what your publicist is doing by utilizing your band name with Savage Shout-outs, etc.”

  “It turned out awesome.” Karl grabbed the bars. “Stop complaining.”

  River tilted his head. “If it’s good, what’s the problem? Liza’s promos have been a huge success for us.”

  “He made
us actually run, over and over, in several locations, all the while shouting, ‘Show them how Fury Runs, ladies.’” Wendy rubbed her thighs through her tight leather pants. “My legs are screaming.”

  Justice barked a laugh, creating a domino effect until they were all cracking up. Simon let go of the door long enough for Liza to nudge Karl, and the two of them made their escape from the brig. Liza managed to reclaim her phone and camera.

  Once they reached the hangar deck where most of the party was going on, Justice snaked an arm around her shoulders and hung back. “Let’s go to the flight deck and take a walk. Hardly anyone’s up there.”

  Justice looked hot in slim-fit dark pants, a metallic-colored slouch T-shirt and long dark coat. Trendy with a slightly formal touch. His hair was doing its usual sex-messy thing, and his dark, scruffed jaw added that rocker edge.

  “I don’t trust the man who threw me in the brig.”

  Grinning, he said, “You shouldn’t, I fully intend to—”

  Female voices cut him off.

  “It’s him! Justice!” A group of women rushed up, surrounding him.

  Liza didn’t let the interruption get to her. It’d been like this all night with fans suddenly converging, and it’s what they were there for. “I’m going to use the restroom.” Once he nodded that he’d heard her, she headed into a hallway and found the ladies’ restroom. When she was washing her hands, another girl came out of a stall. “Nikki?” Her blond hair was falling out of the pretty twist, and her lipstick was all chewed off. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I just needed a break.”

  “From?”

  “Ace and his crew. They seem to think I’m their personal servant, running me ragged. ‘Get a beer, I need more potatoes, go tell that chick to come over here.’ What am I, a publicist or a pimp?” She grabbed a wad of paper towels and dried her hands.

  Heading out together, Liza said, “You look more red carpet than pimp-like in that dress.” The sleeveless navy dress with the mesh panels had an understated nautical theme and looked fantastic on Nikki.

  That got a smile out of her. “Thanks. How’s it going for you?”

  “I had to break out of the brig.” Liza told her the story as they walked back to Justice. Simon and River had joined in to pose for pictures. The crowd of women was thinning out.