The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  I tried to move away again, but he wouldn’t let me.

  “You’re sassy.” He had dark brows, and the one with the piercing rose. “Pretty, too.” He drew me even closer, bringing our bodies into direct contact hips to chest.

  Whoa. He spoke the truth. He liked me plenty, evidence of that was impossible to miss. Beneath the open worn black leather jacket, I could tell that he was solidly built everywhere else, too. Attractive swaths of professionally applied platinum blond highlighted his mostly brown disheveled hair. He had a hoop piercing in his lip that matched the one in his brow and last but not least there was an intriguing line of ink peeking out from the opening of his collared shirt. All of it worked together really well for him, effective accoutrements to the overall package, clearly delineating him as a not easily dismissed man on the prowl.

  My heart was racing. No one had ever come onto me this strong.

  But this had gone on long enough and I wasn’t willing to be his prey of the day. The way he was holding me was too intimate of an embrace for strangers, though technically he wasn’t a complete stranger anymore because I had just figured out who he was.

  “Back off, Lowell.” I used my I-expect-to-be obeyed-Shaina-the-movie-star voice on him. Though deep down I could admit that if I hadn’t already fallen for War, I might’ve been asking Dizzy Lowell to come closer.

  “Wait a minute.” Dizzy cocked his head to the side like a puppy, streaked hair falling over one brow. “I know who you are, too.”

  Shit.

  “You’re that chick from Pinky Swear.”

  My shoulders slumping, I nodded. “I hope you realize it’s sad you know that.”

  “Yeah, well. Had loads of free time on the tour. Show’s not half bad.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled despite myself. He seemed sincere. I decided I liked him even though he was too cute for that to be safe.

  His half lidded gaze dropped to my lips. “You’re sexy as hell in real life.” He finally let go of my arms, but only so he could twirl a strand of my hair around his finger. I shivered and I knew it wasn’t just from the cold. This guy was smooth. “Beautiful,” he stated his amber eyes searching mine as if trying to gauge my reaction to his bold touch.

  I swallowed and took a step back, my rear end hitting the front door.

  He grinned, making me feel like I was back on the menu again. His eyes crinkled with amusement. He was obviously well aware the effect he had on women. “Party’s out back, babe. In Bryan’s studio.” He looped an arm around my shoulders. “Who invited you?” he asked as he led me down the porch steps and around back. “Sager?”

  I shook my head. A few other couples passed by us as we strolled up the driveway. I was relieved that none were Warren with a plus one. I gave up trying to dislodge Dizzy. It was actually kind of nice not to be alone and made me feel less like a sacrificial lamb entering the lion’s den.

  When the door opened and we stepped over the threshold, the heavy bass beat of the recorded music vibrated against the surface of my skin. I hadn’t heard it while we’d been up on the front porch. The walls must have been heavily soundproofed.

  I looked around, spotting the two other band members I knew right away. King and Sager had the presence and confidence that made them stand out in a room. I was pretty sure given what I’d heard and seen so far that though they might not be upper echelon rock stars yet, it was only a matter of when.

  So unlike the parties I was used to, where there was a definite uncomfortable divide between the haves and the have-nots, this one was packed wall to wall with people mingling in loose groups, most casually dressed and looking genuinely happy. Their friendly faces warmed the room. The festive party atmosphere was further enhanced by mix matched streamers and haphazardly placed helium balloons. What once must have been a two car garage now had gleaming hardwood floors, a kitchenette, several seating areas, and stack of musical equipment at the far end of the room.

  My stomach grumbled as the savory aroma of what I was pretty sure was beef fajitas hit me. I’d been busy and so upset that I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I started to move in the direction of the food, but Dizzy stopped me.

  “I ought to warn you, baby. Whoever you came looking for…” His fingers curled into the fabric of my hooded wool jacket as he slid it off. Then he leaned in closer to speak near my ear. “I guarantee I can do you better.”

  Double Whoa.

  Before I had a chance to figure out how to respond, the music suddenly switched off. I heard Lace over the crowd ask everyone to quiet down. I went up on my toes trying to see her. Dizzy put his hand on my lower back and steered me through the throng. Out in the open area on the other side, Lace looking beautiful as usual, stood in front of a long table that held platters and platters of food.

  Her eyes widened slightly, flashing in recognition when she saw me, a small line forming between her brows as her gaze shifted to where Dizzy’s hand now rested proprietarily on my shoulder. But she didn’t falter in her announcement. “Miriam, we’re ready for you to blow out the candles.” Lace’s gaze slid to the side and my eyes followed.

  A beautiful girl with long black hair and gorgeous light colored eyes just like Bryan’s stepped forward. She leaned over the glowing cake, closed her eyes for a moment, and blew out the candles.

  “What’d ya wish for?” Bryan asked, blatant brotherly admiration shining in his gaze as he watched her.

  “For friendships to be mended. For Tempest to get back together. For Warren to perform with you guys tonight.”

  The room went as quiet as it did on the set when we were getting ready to start filming. Bryan shook his head. I felt Dizzy stiffen behind me. All heads turned to one corner of the room.

  “Warren,” I whispered though my heart felt as if it had been ripped in two.

  He wasn’t alone. The thin brunette on his lap had the prettiest blue eyes I’d ever seen, and his face was buried in her neck. My chest burned like fire when I realized that his ringed hand was under her skirt. Given the glazed look in her eyes, I could imagine what was happening beneath it.

  I felt the blood drain from my face and I willed an icy mask of indifference to replace it. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be here. I knew I shouldn’t have come.

  My hand went to my mouth. I felt sick. I spun around, but Dizzy was there and he blocked me. He took one look at my face, and then his gaze crossed the room. When it came back his brows were snapped tightly together.

  “War, huh?” he murmured low. “Not a good choice, babe.” He stroked my cheek with his warm knuckles, but the gesture didn’t soothe me. “If you want to play, sure, but not if you were looking for anything more.”

  I made another attempt to get away from Dizzy and his insightful observation, but froze when another pair of hands landed on my shoulders. Familiar ones. I could feel the cold from his ringed finger, but my body ignited from his touch, instantaneous betraying heat. I was his to command. Dizzy’s touch hadn’t made me feel awash in sensation like this. Only War could make me ache with longing. I don’t know how I had managed to be confused earlier.

  What I did know was that I didn’t want to turn around. Not while frissons of mortification sizzled across the surface of my skin. Not while it was so obvious that I still wanted him. My legs wobbled with desire. I wanted to lean back on him. I wanted him to wrap me in his arms. I wanted to be held by him.

  Not good. Maybe if I ignored him long enough he would go away. For the first time since I had known him, I wished he would. I didn’t want him to see how much it had hurt me to see him with someone else. I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. He had so much of me already.

  “Shaina,” he called, and I closed my eyes knowing I was going to give in as I breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne. I turned slowly, realizing that just as I suspected, my body would always overrule my mind where he was concerned. But even though I locked my muscles, tightly bracing for the vision that was him, I wasn’t prepared.

  Why
did it seem as though it had been days instead of just hours since I had last seen him? Why did he have to be so unbelievably sexy? Why was he so irresistible to me?

  The black military inspired shirt he wore looked fantastic on him. It stretched tight across his wide shoulders, and he’d rolled up the long sleeves revealing his heavily accessorized arms. In a flash everything came back to me, including how titillating those bracelets and rings had felt against my naked skin.

  It was demoralizing realizing how very badly I wanted him back, depressing to discover that I would do just about anything to facilitate that. But I didn’t think that it mattered considering the way he looked as he studied me. His expression was stony, and though I searched there was no trace of tenderness, no evidence to suggest that the man who had been so attentive to me had ever existed.

  Mega not good. If that man was gone what would become of the heart that he had claimed? The words that I’d rehearsed lodged in my throat, not that they would make a bit of difference even if I could choke them out.

  I was a horrible actress, a disgrace to my craft. Instead of shrouding my weakness for him, I stood there and let the desperation shine out of my eyes, there for him and anyone else to see.

  I pressed my lips together to keep the threatening tears from falling. “I’m so sorry,” I finally managed to whisper low.

  “For what exactly?” He cocked his head to the side, his expression cool and arrogant, his eyes narrowing even more when I didn’t immediately respond. “Please clarify. So much with you is clearly not what it seems.”

  This was bad, worse than I had allowed myself to imagine. He looked at me as if he hated me. As if I were the enemy, the way he’d looked at Lace at the funeral. I swallowed, opened my mouth, prepared to try again, but he didn’t give me a chance.

  “Doesn’t really matter though, does it, darlin’? Sorry or not, I already got what I wanted, and I got it for free.”

  I gasped. Hands covering my hot cheeks, I glanced around, realizing everyone was making an effort to pretend they hadn’t heard. Any more attempts to apologize would be pointless in this setting with this stranger who looked like Warren but didn’t act like the man I knew. He seemed to be enjoying making me uncomfortable. It was obvious he had seen the stories. I understood why he was mad, but sympathizing didn’t make what he was doing right now any less painful.

  “Apparently we’ve both moved on.” He lifted his chin to acknowledge Dizzy. “Pretty telling how quickly, don’t you think?”

  I shook my head to deny it, but Dizzy pulled me into him. I found myself trapped between the two men and was just contemplating exit strategies when I noticed a big dark haired muscle bound Hispanic guy headed toward us at a rapid purposeful clip.

  “Culero.” He clamped a heavy hand onto War’s shoulder. My eyes widened in alarm, at the promise of physicality in his posture.

  “Hands off, dickhead.” War kept his eyes on me a beat longer before releasing me to face the imposing and for some reason furious Tempest drummer.

  King cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “You gonna make Miriam cry, refusing her birthday wish?”

  War turned his head, his face softening as he stared at Bryan’s sister who did appear to be upset. “She wished for a lot of shit that ain’t gonna happen.” He sighed. “But I guess I can manage a couple of songs.” He looked at me. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

  That was another dig. My face fell. King’s expression remained the same, but he nodded his approval of War’s decision and when he turned to go back in the direction he’d come from, War followed him.

  He’d dismissed me without another word. There was never going to be any reconciliation. I felt like running away, but forced myself to move slowly. I had some dignity left.

  “Can I please have my coat back?” I asked Dizzy, hoping that only I heard the warble in my voice.

  “Uh-uh.” He tucked it tighter under his arm. “You need to stick around, babe.” He motioned with his head toward the area War had just vacated earlier. “Stay and enjoy. I’m gonna go jam with the guys for a while. I want you to hang around.” He squeezed my shoulder. “We’ve got some unfinished business you and me.”

  I could well imagine what business he was anticipating finishing as he stood there waiting for me to respond practically stripping me naked with his eyes.

  I closed my eyes. A part of me just wanted to flee. Get back, Shaina. Never mind the damn coat. Get back to my life the way it had been before Warren Jinkins crashed into it. But a bigger part knew that was impossible. Wheels had been set in motion that couldn’t be reversed. I had made my decision. I had made my choice. I had to move forward. There was no getting back to where I once belonged.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  War

  I took the mic Lace handed me, the rage I felt at seeing her with Diz cooling down to an almost manageable level as I wrapped my fingers around the familiar contours.

  “I’m confused.” Lace touched my shoulder and when I leaned down asked in a soft whisper, “Is Shaina with you or Dizzy?”

  My gaze went to the woman in question. Who was she with? And why did it matter so much? Our eyes locked for a moment, not long, but long enough that I certainly felt it. My mind rebelled from the thought of going there again with her, but my body was more than ready and willing to reassert its claim.

  Those jeans cradled her ass the way my hands had before and wanted to again and a quick glance around the room revealed that I was far from the only one entertaining fantasies. Practically every other guy in the room had honed in on her. She seemed oblivious to the attention. All part of her act, no doubt. One it didn’t please me to know Diz had fallen for too.

  I’d seen them the minute they had walked in together. She certainly didn’t seem to mind having his hands on her. In fact they looked cozy as shit, like a real couple. My jaw hardened, and I had an ugly thought. Apparently now that the barrier of her virginity was out of the way, she didn’t mind moving onto the next artist before the paint had even dried.

  “She’s with me.” I was unable to keep the territorial growl from my voice as I tore my gaze away from Shaina and focused on getting ready to perform. For the first time in my life I found that task difficult to do.

  I tapped on the mic. The sound came out solid through the speakers behind me. Bryan had a nice setup. I took a good look around at the guys who used to be like a family to me. I wasn’t going to go all fucking nostalgic though. I dismissed the words Bryan had spoken outside even though my brain wanted to dredge them up again. My shell was too thick for his shit to break it.

  Whichever of us was really to blame for destroying the band that had been the focus of my life since I was a teen was irrelevant. None of it mattered. Nothing could be rebuilt. That dream had gone up in flames leaving nothing but a smoldering pile of ashes behind.

  I turned to see if King was ready. He was behind the drum kit with his sticks laid across his knees, but he wasn’t paying attention to the band. His dark brown eyes were fixed on Miriam. Interesting. But not totally surprising. The two of them had been tip toeing around something for a long time and the heat had ratcheted up when the Jackson family had come to see the band in New York City.

  Over on my left, Sager plugged in his bass, then planted his legs wide apart, taking his usual disaffected pose until his eyes hit mine and turned positively glacial.

  Hearing the clatter of metal on wood on my right I turned and looked at the guy who once was my wingman and so much more. He lifted a boot off the pedal board. He was ready to play. He was always ready to play.

  So the fuck was I.

  He returned my gaze with cautious skepticism.

  Yeah, brother, I feel the same way. Torn in two. Like it was right to be here, but all wrong at the same time. How he and Lace thought we could bridge the breach in trust between us was beyond me.

  I turned away from him. I didn’t appreciate him looking at me as if he thought I might fly off the handle the way King so of
ten did. Even though we were on the outs, he knew me better than that. This side of the mic I was more reliable than anyone. This side of the mic differences could be set aside and everything was right. This side of the mic I was always in complete control.

  Facing forward brought Shaina into view again. Some dude was leaning over her. Way too close. He touched her knee and anger rumbled through me like an earthquake. I might be pissed as hell at her, but that didn’t mean I liked watching some other guy pawing her.

  Ok, maybe Bryan was onto something. Maybe I couldn’t hold my shit together with her here and after all that had happened. It was just sex, I told myself. It didn’t mean anything. But I knew that was a lie. With her it had meant everything. I felt the magma of my temper rise.

  “Hey.” Dizzy moved toward me, distracting me, fortunately, his brows drawn, his ever present Gibson SG strapped low on his hips. “I tried calling you. I just wanted to say I’m sorry about your old lady, man.” Dizzy ever the peacemaker. He hated strife of any sort especially within the group, would practically do anything to avoid it.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, starting to turn away when he spoke again.

  “She’s a nice piece, isn’t she?”

  I knew without following the direction of his gaze who he meant. I nodded as I looked at her again. Lace was over there now talking to Shaina, perched on the armrest beside her.

  Fuckin’ shit. That couldn’t be good.

  “You already tapped that?”

  I tensed. I wanted to kick his ass for talking about her like that at the same time that I wanted to kick my own ass for caring. What kind of loser was I? Lace had taken my heart. Shaina could shatter it and my soul if I let her. I couldn’t let her have that kind of power over me again.

  “I only asked ’cause I thought you might know if she’d be open to something with both of us,” he continued missing my response since his eyes were on her, “Like old times.”

  I started to tell him fuck no, I wasn’t sharing, but then I remembered how she badly she’d tooled me around. It was time to set aside the post funeral melancholy bullshit and get the upper hand with her. I needed to remember I was the one who called the shots with bitches. I was the one in charge. I decided how far how fast and how long I went with her or any other chick. I’d lost sight of that. I’d lost sight of a lot of things with her. I got snookered by her sweet act. I got sidetracked by a pair of beautiful green eyes and sweeter lips. I should’ve taken what she was offering that first night and then moved the hell on.