The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “Sure she does. I just worry about her confidence. It’s taken a lot of hits.” A shadow drifted across Dizzy’s face. “And you know how reactive Lace can be. She doesn’t think things through.”

  The shadow became total darkness. He’d looked troubled like this a lot on the trip, most of it revolving around War and how he treated Lace. I had my own trouble with War, for sure. Not because of the ass kicking, I’d deserved that, but the stunt at Kyle’s had gone too far. That maneuver had seriously crossed the line.

  I knocked on the bar top. “Lace is stronger than you give her credit for being.”

  “I hope so. Weathering all of this, she has to be.” Dizzy brought his tumbler to his mouth and knocked back half of it like it was a shot. “It’s just one night, Bry. A couple of hours that will mean a lot to her.”

  A couple of hours that would be torture to me. Alone with her and not being able to touch her the way I wanted to.

  “Why can’t you take her?” I knocked back a big amount too and made a face. This was Dizzy’s drink of choice. I preferred beer. But whiskey had a burn, warming and filling the hollowness that had opened inside my chest since the kiss, and my choice yet again to do the right thing by her. A right that felt all wrong.

  “I could offer,” he said. “But she wouldn’t accept. She doesn’t want to go to prom with her brother, but she’ll go with you.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I know, all right?” He looked away while I wished again that things were different between Lace and me.

  But how could they be?

  I needed to do what I’d been doing. She needed her spot in the band, which was intrinsically tied to her relationship with War. What she didn’t need was me interfering.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” I said, pushing the empty tumbler away. Anything for her. I’d told her that before, and I meant it.

  “Thanks.”

  “You say that now, Diz. But she might not be as happy to have me take her as you think.”

  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the way she’d looked at me at Kyle’s. She thought I’d stolen that kiss and played her, going right to Missy afterward, but she didn’t understand. Lace thought her kiss meant nothing, when it meant everything.

  But I had no right to say anything to correct that misunderstanding.

  • • •

  Hours later, after a lot of scrambling, I stood inside the tiny foyer at Lace’s uncle’s house because of fucking Dizzy.

  Shit. That was a lie. I was here because of her.

  The monkey suit and bow tie strangled me. Even if she ran back up the stairs screaming when she saw me, I had to risk it if there was any chance I could make her happy.

  “Whoa.” Dizzy stared at me and then smirked. “You look . . . uncomfortable.”

  “Go get her, you ass.”

  “On it. Lace,” he called, jogging up the stairs. “Your date’s here.”

  A couple of moments later, she descended the stairs and froze when she saw me.

  “Hey, Lace.” My heart in my throat, I took her in, totally floored by her. Like when I’d first seen her here in the backyard, but more. So much more.

  She wore a dress that I knew was vintage sixties, her favorite fashion era. It had spaghetti straps, a straight bodice that drew my eye to her curves, and a black lace skirt over a blush pink underlayer. She’d tied a black silk ribbon around her slender neck. Her amber eyes were bright, and her shiny golden hair cascaded long and straight around her delicate shoulders. She was all my hopes and dreams, high up on a pedestal out of reach.

  “You look incredible.” I found my voice, though it was husky. “Hope it’s okay if I take you instead.”

  “Sure,” she said sweetly, and my battered heart soared. Apparently, Dizzy was right.

  Before she could potentially change her mind, I stepped forward and slid a wrist corsage with white roses onto her arm.

  Fuck, her skin was so creamy. Electricity lit me up just touching her. She wasn’t unaffected either, based on the chill bumps that rose on her arms. Unable to resist, I brushed my fingertips across the skin of her inner wrist, and she inhaled sharply.

  Dizzy cleared his throat. “Bryan, can I see you in the kitchen for a minute?”

  I gave him a chin lift, and her skin another lingering stroke before releasing her.

  Following Dizzy through the living room, I could feel her speculative gaze on me, and wanted to go back to her rather than deal with whatever new bullshit this was with him.

  He turned and gave it to me as soon as the swing door closed behind me.

  “You can look at her like you want to undress her if you have to, but no removing of any clothing whatsoever. You hear me?”

  “Dizzy, c’mon.” I rubbed the back of my neck, wishing I had time for a quick smoke. My heart was practically pounding out of my chest, just from a simple touch. “I respect her. You know I do. I don’t need you making this any more awkward than it is.”

  He studied me a beat, then gave me a chin lift. “Okay. But you bring her back here.”

  “Of course. Before midnight, right? So the limo doesn’t turn into a pumpkin.”

  “No.” His brow creased. “So the record deals we have on the line don’t go to shit because of some interpersonal band drama involving you, War, and my sister.”

  “I got all that.”

  “Good.” Dizzy nodded approvingly. “You really got a limo?”

  “Doing this right.”

  “Apparently so. Okay, well, have fun and all.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m heading to the drugstore for War, then I have a date with the lovely Elaine.”

  “See ya,” I said, turning away without calling him out about the less-than-fifteen-minute bullshit he did with his women that he called dating. I had dates of my own that I didn’t want to be called out on.

  When I pushed through the door, Lace was right there on the other side of it.

  “Where’s Dizzy,” she asked, and I wondered if she’d been eavesdropping and what she’d heard.

  “He went on.” I placed my hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the front door. “We’d better get going. We’re already too late for your dinner reservation. We’ll miss the dance if we don’t leave soon.”

  Outside, we stepped onto the porch together, and she locked the front door.

  Turning around, she gasped when she saw the black stretch limo. Looking up at me through her sooty lashes, she said, “You don’t have to do this for Warren.”

  “I’m not doing it for him.” I stared at her, suddenly not in the mood to hide anything. Not with her right there, and a night ahead of us that was all ours. “I’m doing it for you.”

  The porch light made her hair shine like polished gold. I reached out and ran my fingers through thick layers that were as soft as silk.

  Somewhere in the distance, a car door slammed, or maybe that was just my heart slamming around inside my chest.

  I gave her a small smile. “You deserve a night like this. Come on.”

  I took her hand and led her to the limo. The woman of my dreams was off her pedestal for a one-night engagement.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Lace

  “It doesn’t even look like the gym,” I said, taking it all in.

  In deference to the winter wonderland theme, paper snowflakes were everywhere. They dangled from the rafters on strings and were piled into snowdrifts, dusted in glitter and sparkles. Small, medium, and large, they were all different patterns and different shapes.

  “It’s beautiful.” I turned to look at Bryan.

  “It certainly is.” He wasn’t looking at the gym. He was looking at me, and his gray-green eyes sparkled more enchantingly than all the glitter in the world.

  I wanted to ask him a million questions—about the kiss, Missy, the record deals, but on the other hand, I just wanted this. A night for the two of us, no War between us, and Bryan looking at me the way I’d always wanted him to.
>
  “Shall we dance?” He offered me his arm.

  “Yes.” I took it, curling my fingers into the material of his jacket, wishing—wishes were allowed tonight—that I could remove the black jacket and the crisp white shirt to discover the man underneath.

  He led me out onto the crowded dance floor where couples in their finery swayed to the slow beat of “Faithfully.” A mirrored disco ball slowly twirled overhead, casting tiny beams of brilliant light downward to transform the wooden boards and the dancers into something nearly magical.

  I lifted my arms and twined them around Bryan’s strong neck, shivering from the whisper of his silky hair on my skin and the warm stamp of his hands low on my back.

  I wanted to lose myself in this bliss, but those niggling questions remained.

  Why had War asked Bryan to take me?

  Why had Bryan agreed?

  There was something at play I couldn’t see, and the curtain with the answers behind it could be ripped aside at any time. But rather than preemptively pull it back myself to see what was behind it, like I might have in the not-so-distant past, tonight I gave myself over to the moment. I surrendered to the bliss and the man who seemed to conjure it.

  The Journey song that wasn’t my favorite ended, and another slow song started with a little slide guitar and a couple of poignant piano notes. I didn’t recognize the tune, but Bryan did.

  Sliding his hands lower, pulling me closer, he began to sing softly. He had a beautiful voice, but rarely employed it. He was the brilliant guitarist; that was his role in the band. But he played a different role tonight. He was my king, and I was his queen, seduced by him and the words that slipped from his chiseled lips about knowing a woman, her thoughts, her dreams, and loving her.

  I sighed, tangled my fingers in his hair, and laid my cheek against his hard chest, right over where his irresistible heart lay.

  “Jackson.”

  A hand tapped my king’s broad shoulder, and I lifted my head. It was Chad with Missy.

  “Cutting in,” Chad said, and I stiffened.

  “Okay.” Bryan gave me a brief hooded look that I couldn’t read. “One song.”

  Nodding to confirm, Chad released Missy, and Bryan relinquished me. My enchanted heart screeched like a needle on a record as I watched my king twirl Missy away. She looked too pretty in a slinky cobalt-blue gown with silver piping.

  “So, you and Bry, huh?” Chad asked, taking and placing my limp arms around his neck. He was so tall that even in my heels, I had to stretch to keep my arms where he’d placed them. “I’ll bet you’re ecstatic, finally being together. Bry looks like he does onstage when he’s doing one of his solos, and you’re wearing a look I’ve never seen before, well-satisfied lady.”

  Sighing, I looked away. “I wish.”

  “You aren’t a couple?” His hands at my waist, Chad peered down at me.

  “No, War got sick. He couldn’t bring me. Bryan’s just my escort.”

  “Huh-uh. An escort would bring you and let you dance with whomever you wanted to while he hung out over there.” He gestured to a group of guys and girls by the punch bowl. Spaced well apart, they were obviously single, some looking at their phones, others just looking bored.

  “But—”

  “Do you want Bry, Lace Lowell?”

  “You know I do.”

  “And I know you, so get him.”

  “The way you got Missy?” I narrowed my eyes at him, then glanced over at her, cocking my head when I realized how far apart she stood from Bryan.

  “Don’t think any guy really gets Missy. But that’s not gonna stop me from trying to.” Chad looked so determined, and not the least bit unhappy about the challenge.

  I had a sudden thought. “Hey, where’s your boot? Shouldn’t you—”

  “Hush.” He placed his hand over my mouth for a second. “It’s prom. I’m taking the night off from doctor’s orders. Anything goes.”

  “Not anything. Not with my date.” Bryan clapped his hand on Chad’s shoulder. His gaze narrowed beneath his tousled brown hair. “Cutting in.”

  “The song’s not done.”

  “You’re done,” Bryan said, and his lips curled back from his perfect white teeth.

  Chad grinned and released me. “About fucking time you acted like this around her.”

  Bryan reclaimed me, holding me closer than before, and I forgot about everything except Chad’s advice.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Bryan

  It should have been enough. Dancing and touching Lace, holding her as if she were truly mine. But it wasn’t enough. Having a little, I only wanted more.

  Because I couldn’t resist her, I was back inside her uncle’s house, and it was well past midnight.

  Just outside the front door, she’d pried the truth about Missy from me. I’d admitted settling for others only because I couldn’t have her.

  Armed with my confession, Lace led me inside and stood before me, a goddess of war with my tuxedo jacket like the spoils of conquest around her shoulders. Alarm bells pealed inside my head, but I didn’t plan to heed them. How could I, when trying to do the right thing disappointed her?

  “Good night, Lace, I . . .” Seeing the disappointment on her face, I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently drew her to me. “You’re not going to cry, are you?”

  Her eyes were swimming, and her tears were my downfall.

  I was doomed. We both were.

  “I never cry,” she said stubbornly.

  “What’s this,” I asked softly, running a fingertip under her eye and revealing the moisture.

  “I’m just tired. The cold wind . . .”

  “You’re lying.”

  “So are you, Bryan Jackson.” Her defiant hands fisted. “Denying what’s between us.”

  She handed me the tuxedo jacket and kicked off her shoes.

  Sirens blared loudly now, but I ignored them. Anticipation coursed through me as she flashed me her attitude. Tossing back her hair, she peeled off one of the thin shoulder straps of her dress, and then the other.

  Boldly, she looked at me, daring me to resist her. I managed it for a moment. But she was a goddess, my goddess. There was no way I could keep my promise to War, and to her brother.

  My nostrils flared, teased by her vanilla perfume. A dark hunger arose, one that I’d attempted unsuccessfully to sate with others.

  Seeming to sense the razor’s edge I teetered on, Lace gave me a triumphant smile. Reaching back, she released the hook on her dress and lowered the zipper, leaving a black and pink pool of chiffon puddled at her feet. With her slender shoulders back and her proud chin lifted, she stood before me nearly naked in a strapless blush corset, matching panties, and gartered stockings.

  God, she was more beautiful than I’d imagined. More beautiful than any woman I’d ever seen.

  On fire, I reached for and claimed her, crushing my lips and my body to hers. She wrapped her arms around my neck like she had when we’d been dancing. The connection didn’t extinguish the flames, though. It fueled them.

  My hands in her hair, I twisted and tugged it. Her lips parted, and I plunged my tongue between them. The touch of her tongue to mine made my cock lengthen as if she’d stroked it.

  “Babe, you’re so hot,” I rasped, breaking the seal between our mouths to rain worshipful kisses across her cheek and to her ear. “Looking at you is foreplay. Dancing with you was agony. Kissing you sets me on fire.”

  “Oh, Bry.” She mewed my name like I’d dreamed of her doing.

  “I have to have you,” I whispered heatedly.

  She tugged on my neck. Removing the bow tie, she brought my ear to her lips. “Then have me.”

  Fuck yeah. I scooped her into my arms and carried her up the stairs. On the landing, I glanced around. There were several doors. “Which one is your room?”

  “First door on the right.” She worked on releasing the buttons on my shirt while I strode down the hall.

  Stepping inside
her room, I pushed the door closed with my foot, then set her down, reveling in the softness of her sleek skin.

  “Dammit,” she said softly. “These buttons are so small. They’re driving me crazy.” She’d only managed three of them.

  “Let me do it.” I sat on the edge of her bed and beckoned to her. “I’ll get the buttons, if you get the laces on my shoes.”

  Her expression serious, she dropped to her knees on the rug in front of me. “Teamwork.”

  I nearly spilled in my trousers at seeing her like that. Her mouth was inches away from my cock. Her tits were pushed up in her corset, so high I could almost see her dusky nipples from my position.

  “You’re so beautiful, Lace.”

  “You’re beautiful too.” She glanced up at me through her lashes, her lips slowly curling.

  “I want to kiss you again.” I wanted her pretty pink lips wrapped around my shaft. I wanted her mouth on my skin. Mine everywhere on her. So many fantasies and not enough time. My heart raced like crazy.

  “Stop distracting me,” she said, holding her bottom lip between her teeth as she tugged on my laces. “Get your shirt off.”

  I did as she instructed and then gripped her arms, lifting her to her feet just as she whipped the second sock away. I went right for her mouth, tasting and taking each moan, and feeding her my hot groans.

  “Bry,” she whispered as I licked my way across her lips. “So good. You taste so good.”

  “You taste like vanilla and sunshine.” And warmth I wanted to bask in. Sweetness I wanted to swallow.

  “Your skin is like velvet.” She smoothed her hands over my shoulders and down my arms. “Your muscles are hard like steel.”

  “That’s not the only part of me that’s hard, I assure you.”

  Her gaze dipped, and my cock gave an eager leap.

  I tucked a curled finger under her chin and lifted it. “I want you,” I said, not messing around. “All the way.”

  “All the way is what I’ve always wanted with you,” she said softly, yet without guile or artifice.