The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  I slid my hand from Mel’s grip. “James.” I touched his arm. His gaze swung to mine. “We’ve been invited backstage.”

  Eyes narrowing, he held up a finger. I scooted back in my seat, acid churning in my stomach, knowing that look. He didn’t like to be interrupted.

  “You go ahead, Mel,” I whispered. “I don’t think we can.”

  “I’m not going without you.” Her face flushed as she threw my husband an irritated look. She didn’t like James at all. “I’ll wait.”

  I felt torn. As much as I wanted to go backstage, I didn’t want anyone to see the cowering creature I became around my husband. Especially Dizzy. There was also too much potential for disaster, putting Dizzy and James together again. The web of lies we’d woven about Dizzy’s relationship with Mel could easily unravel if my husband was in the mood to discover the truth. And that wouldn’t be good for any of us.

  “Hold on, dammit!” James scowled growling into his phone. I stiffened beside him. He rarely lost his temper, especially in public. He set the call on hold and leaned toward me. “One of Mr. C’s people got too rough with one of the subs again.” His voice was low and harsh in my ear. “I’ve gotta go down to the club and smooth things over, baby.”

  I tried to hide my disappointment. We’d have to leave with him, missing the show.

  “I’ll bring them home after.” Mel leaned forward boldly. “I’ve got my car.”

  James’ lips flattened as he considered Mel’s offer. “Alright,” he said reluctantly.

  I quietly let out the breath I’d been holding.

  “But, April.” He put his hand on my neck and pulled my face forward toward him, his expression dark and foreboding. “Keep clear of Lowell. I don’t trust that guy. You get me?”

  “Yes.” I gulped.

  “Good.” He squeezed my neck as an additional warning that wasn’t necessary and let me go, shuffling down the row past us to the aisle.

  “Cool!” Mel exclaimed without hesitation. “Let’s go.”

  We followed the usher up a set of stairs to the right of the curtained stage and tromped down a long winding crowded corridor, dodging people armed with urgent expressions and cell phones along with red faced stagehands rolling heavy equipment.

  We stopped in front of a black door labeled number three inside a gold spray painted star. The usher rapped twice and then pushed it open, stepping nimbly aside so we could enter. Holding my brothers’ hands in my own, we walked in after Mel.

  My eyes swept a room that was larger than I expected. All the Tempest guys were there, and also Lace and Avery… OMG!… Jones! But though inwardly freaked out to see her, I had a new favorite guitarist now. It was him my eyes stalled out on.

  My entire body, cheeks to toes, flushed with pleasurable heat.

  He looked sexy as hell, kahlua and cream hair gelled, spikes every direction, messy in a wickedly good way. His amber eyes shined as he returned my stare, his expression intense. It was hard to look away, especially since he was wearing nothing from the waist up.

  I knew that the guys always performed sans shirts. I’d seen the YouTube videos. But seeing it on my computer was one thing. This was real, and this was now. Slack jawed, nearly drooling, I took him all in. The gleaming taut muscled slightly tanned torso. Had he oiled his skin? Holy shit! I wanted to find out. Badly. A black ribbon of writing circled his neck like a chain. And don’t forget that dark line of hair, the one that pointed south, the happy trail between his lean hips that disappeared beneath the silver buckle of his low hanging jeans.

  Vaguely I registered Mel crossing over to him as I stood there holding my brothers and gawking. As they conversed, his gaze remained locked on me. I tried not to hyperventilate.

  “Hey, Dizzy!” John shouted, tugging on my hand as he started forward. I blinked and stumbled along with him. My body jiggled as Michael hopped in excitement. Dizzy’s eyes dropped to my chest. My blush deepened.

  I suddenly felt awkward, more than a little overwhelmed. Here, now, in this room, it really hit me what big stars Dizzy and the guys were. I didn’t really fit in. I wasn’t a performer like Mel. My equilibrium left me.

  “Yo, John and Michael,” Dizzy slapped hands with my brothers. “I’m glad you could come. They beamed back at him. Though my head was spinning, I noticed Mel’s frown.

  “You really a rock star?” John asked.

  “I’m the rhythm guitarist for Tempest.” Dizzy shrugged, and I nearly fell out watching the rippling of his muscles that gesture caused.

  “Why you got your shirt off?” Michael asked, ever direct.

  Dizzy’s lips slowly lifted. “The chicks seem to dig it.” His gaze flicked to me. He’d not misgauged my level of interest. “Let me take you guys around so you can meet the rest of my crew.”

  “Sweet!” John’s grin was only slightly smaller than Michael’s.

  Dizzy casually placed one warm hand on the center of my lower back, the other on Mel’s, steering us toward the bassist and drummer. My reaction to his firm touch was far from casual. His hand felt like it branded me resting on the exposed skin above my low rise jeans. But I was ok with that. I wanted to be his in every single way imaginable.

  Sager and King fussed over the boys like they were the celebrities, asking them where they were sitting and telling them they’d look for them when they were on stage.

  Next they got to meet Bryan and Lace. He seemed distracted, but Lace nodded to each of us, from her perch in Bryan’s lap. I caught a speculative gleam in her golden eyes as she looked us over. I felt like she knew something. I wondered if she could see the desire that darkened my eyes and spiked in my pulse every time Dizzy rubbed a titillating lazy circle on my bare skin.

  “Hey, it’s my favorite Mine bartender and Bluebelle.” Justin announced as he walked up to us. “Sis,” he called over his shoulder. “Come meet April. She’s your biggest fan.”

  My face must have turned beet red. It certainly felt as hot as a sunburn.

  “Hi,” she greeted me easily, her voice melodious and sexy. She had her red hair tied back and wore a flattering silk blouse and leather pants. She shook her head at her twin as I stood there star struck. “You’ve got no finesse, Jus.” She smiled warmly at me. “So you like Brutal Strength?”

  “Since I was in high school.” I found my voice though it was hard because of my nerves and because of what Dizzy was doing to me.

  “What’s your favorite song?” she asked congenially.

  “Um, ‘B Jezebel’. It’s so in your face loud and I love your guitar solo on that one.”

  “Thanks.” Her smile sparkled in her emerald eyes. “I’ll be sure to have Marcus dedicate that one to you tonight.”

  “No way!” John exclaimed as my jaw dropped.

  “Cool,” Michael drew out in an awed whisper.

  Avery knelt down, engaging my enraptured brothers.

  “You need a ride to the terminal in the morning?” I heard Dizzy ask Justin.

  “No.” The light purple fabric of the unbuttoned shirt Tempest’s new lead singer wore fluttered as he shrugged. “I’ll just take the Triumph, but thanks for the offer.”

  “You got it, bro,” Dizzy replied. “Anytime.” Then he startled me and everyone else when he let out a shrill whistle through his teeth. “Yo, Sager.”

  “Yeah, man.” Sager crossed to us, eyes lingering on the spot where Dizzy’s arm was drapped around Mel’s shoulders.

  “Come with us a sec. I wanna take Bluebelle and her entourage on a quick tour.”

  “Can we meet the Dirt Dogs?” John asked. Those reprobate rockers were his favorite for some reason.

  “Sure thing,” Dizzy promised. “If they’re not passed out already, I’ll make it happen.”

  We filed out into the corridor. Sager moved closer to Mel as he led the way, John and Michael skipping giddily after them.

  “Hold up, Kitten,” Dizzy called in his velvety rumble, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind an overstuffed rack of colorful clothi
ng. “I need to talk to you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Dizzy

  I stood in front of April caging her in with my body so she couldn’t get away from me, but also blocking her from view just in case the clothing rack didn’t do the trick. Now that I had her to myself after watching her eye fuck me back in the dressing room, I planned to take full advantage.

  I got closer, putting my hands on her soft warm skin and tracing my fingertips up the bare arms her body hugging skull and rhinestone tank left exposed. I felt the shiver that rolled through her in response to my simple caress as a wave of desire crashed over me. “Babe,” My voice was husky, and I lifted her chin so she had to look up at me. “Where is he?”

  Her eyes were bright. Her smoky eye shadow looked fantastic. “He had to leave,” she whispered.

  “Why?” I asked directly the way her little brother did. Though I didn’t really want to talk. I wanted to explore. Every single curvaceous inch of her. To take away every bit of clothing that kept me from touching her skin. From the tank to the ripped jeans to her velvet studded spiked boots. “Why do you stay with him?” I laid it all out there. “You don’t love him, and you’re obviously afraid of him. How does that even work?”

  “Don’t.” She tried to turn away, but I framed her delicate face so she couldn’t. Her cheeks turned pink and her eyes got even brighter. “I don’t want to talk about him. Please. I don’t even want to think about him.” Her impassioned tone and her expression revealed her desperation. “Just for one night. I want to pretend he doesn’t even exist. To pretend I’m a woman a guy like you might be interested in.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as if wishing with all her might.

  “Oh, Kitten, I’m interested all right.” I swept the pad of my thumb over the pink gloss of her plump bottom lip. Her eyes fluttered open, and I saw the raw desire in them. “I’ve got no problem with forgetting about him.” I wanted to help her wipe every trace of sadness from her life. Her mouth parted and warm breath spilled onto my hand when she whispered her thanks.

  I inhaled sharply, my pulse roaring, blood rushing southward. My cock swelled to attention, ready for action.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Baby, you don’t wanna know. It’s insane what you do to me.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Her lips formed a slow sexy smile I’d never seen. “This your usual routine, then?”

  “Nothing’s usual about the way you make me feel, Kitten. Nothing.”

  She stared at me with those almond shaped eyes as the weight of my words slowly sank in. I savored the view. “You’re beautiful, April.”

  “So are you, Dizzy Lowell.”

  “Yeah?” My voice dropped lower while my lips pulled up at the corners.

  Her gaze dropped to my mouth. And that was all the invitation I needed. I didn’t care who she belonged to. I was going to taste her. I lowered my head.

  “No, Dizzy.”

  I stopped, my eyes popping back up to hers.

  “I want you.” Her eyes flared with intensity that matched my desire for her. “You don’t even know how much. But we can’t. It’s not safe. I …”

  “I don’t care,” I growled in frustration, pressing my thumb over both her lips to shush her, applying a bit of pressure on the bottom one to part the two. Then I gently placed my mouth on hers enjoying the feel of her soft satin lips, smooth and wet. She put her hands on my chest. I didn’t even flinch. They felt good there.

  She moaned when I slipped between her lips, and I felt it in my dick when her tongue moved against mine.

  After that I didn’t think. I didn’t analyze. I didn’t strategize. I just felt.

  My fingers plunged into her silky hair, the tortoise shell clip that’d held the long strands from her face came loose and fell away to the tile floor with a clatter. I barely noticed. I had to have more. I pressed my hard body into hers, groaning when I felt the hardened tips of her beautiful tits flattened against my bare chest and the beckoning heat between her thighs.

  I was euphoric to finally have her in my arms. Our tongues dueling, the sweet sounds of her pleasure, our bodies writhing as we sought the perfect friction, moving together in a perfect rhythm to a sensual dance as old as time. I was just about at the point of no return. Red hot fire was pulsing through my blood, and a single message detonated within my mind. Make her yours now.

  And then it was all over, a sudden and complete stop when her hand slid down between our bodies and wrapped around my dick. Reflexively, I grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand back then set her deliberately away from me. She looked up at me, lips kiss swollen, eyes full of hurt and surprise as the clothing rack tottered behind her.

  I struggled against the familiar dark trapped feeling threatening to pull me under. I focused on her face and the growing concern in her eyes trying to stay afloat. Her gaze drifted back and forth between my clenched fists and my panicked expression.

  “Dizzy what’s going on? What did I do wrong?” She started to reach for my arm, but hesitated, her hand hovering an inch away.

  I shook my head. It was all I could manage.

  “Ok, well we should probably go find John and Michael,” she said softly. “Before we’re missed.” I’d hurt her, slamming on the brakes like that without any explanation. Her expression betrayed her confusion. She made to move around me, but I caught her, turning her to face me.

  “It’s not what you’re think.”

  “What do I think? Please tell me since you know me so well.” Her chin came up, and there was that fire in her eyes, but still that vulnerability, underneath. Strength and sensitivity. She was like a soothing balm to me.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you.” I pulled in a couple of calming breaths. “Do you really think it could be all lights out like that between us if I hadn’t been into what we were doing?” I hauled her back, firmly. “I’ve never felt anything as explosive as that kiss.” My eyes shone with sincerity. “Not even close.”

  Lips parting, she blinked. “Then why...?”

  “Why didn’t I push you up against the wall and take you? Believe me I wanted to. Still do.” I ran my knuckles softly over her creamy cheek. “But you deserve better. Because when we finally come together I want to take my time. And there’s something else. Something important. Things I need to tell you in private. I don’t want to do it here.”

  She shook her head. “But we can’t, Diz. There won’t be a next time. There won’t be any other chances. There’s shouldn’t even have been this one.” She closed her eyes face scrunching up like she was in pain. “You don’t understand. I’ve tried to tell you. James…”

  “Don’t say his name,” I snarled. “I can’t stand it. We agreed we wouldn’t think about him. Tonight’s not over. We still have time, right?”

  “Yes,” she agreed after a brief tension inducing pause, determined resolve replacing the uncertainty on her face. “But I want you to know…”

  “No buts. Watch the show. I’ll be looking for you in the audience. Thinking about you. Every note I play, it’ll be for you. Then come to the party after, and we’ll talk there. I promise.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  April

  Tempest was the last band scheduled to perform. It’d been torture waiting. Brutal Strength had just finished their set. They had been the highlight so far, precise and polished.

  Avery made my jaw drop. Besides being sexy, she was a complete and utter guitar prodigy. No one else played the way she could. Plus it was obvious she was someone who followed through on her promises, a rare and admirable quality. John and Michael had nearly come out of their seats when Marcus had dedicated ‘B Jezebel’ to me.

  War and his new band had been forgettable. The ex-Tempest front man had clearly been drunk or high. He’d worn sunglasses the entire time. The sound was mixed poorly. The band’s instruments had drowned out War, deemphasizing his stripped down vocal style.

  And then it was finally time for Tempest. The auditorium wen
t completely dark. My heart felt like it was trying to hammer out of my chest. I leaned forward in anticipation.

  A lone spot light clicked on Justin Jones center stage. His head was thrown back. He held the mic to his mouth. The crowd roared their approval of the drama and everyone surged to their feet, most with their cell cameras held high, others clapping enthusiastically.

  Justin let out a primal yell that sent goose bumps popping along my skin.

  Then more shadowy shafts of light rained down on the other four. King on the drums twirling his drumsticks. Sager in front with his bass. Both wearing subtle grins and shades. Dizzy stood to one side of Justin, Bryan in leather pants on the other. Rhythm and lead faced off wearing wide cocky smiles on their faces, obviously there was nowhere those two would rather be than right there on that stage .

  Dizzy led the band out with a languid liquid groove, the rhythm making me think of sex, especially with the deliberate groans Justin added. It was hard to keep from being aroused. Then they kicked in to full hard rocking mode. Back to naked back Dizzy and Bryan jammed, tearing through two songs without any pause, their lyrics irreverent and their sound in your face explosive.

  Tempest owned it. Five sexy guys held the audience enthralled. For me just one in particular.

  I felt flushed. I pulled the long rope chain I wore away from my sweaty neck and caught Mel watching me. She’d been giving me speculative glances since Dizzy and I rejoined her and my brothers backstage. But what could I tell her? What could I say? That the guy she’d been crushing on had just completely rocked my world with a kiss? That my marriage was a wreck? That my life a complete farce? That I was so tempted to throw caution and everything else to the wind for just one single moment with him?

  Fingers strumming, body sliding in perfect sync with the tempo, Dizzy walked backward across the stage so he and Sager could share a mic adding their voices to Justin’s on a chorus. I zoned in on Dizzy’s voice among the others. I was totally attuned to that velvet timbre.