by K. K. Allen
“Come.” I smirk, taking her hand again and pulling her toward the edge of the roof. I want her to understand why this is my favorite place. I want to tell her everything. I want to know everything about her. She already knows the important stuff about me. I’m hoping that maybe she’ll let me in and talk about her parents. I won’t pressure her. Never. But I want her to know it’s okay if she does want to talk about anything.
We’re a few feet from the edge of the roof when Lyric stops behind me. I can’t explain the strange feeling I get in my chest, but it’s almost as if we’ve done this before. Initially, I have a flashback to the first time I ever stepped foot onto the roof, tugging a scared girl behind me. And then Lyric’s response to the dark corner beneath the stairs hits me like a sledgehammer.
No fucking way.
I turn to face her, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. “Lyric.” I test her name to see if the same realization has hit her yet.
Her eyes flicker to mine. “Heights,” she says, reminding me and confirming my suspicions all at once.
“Shit, babe, I thought it was just a sleeping on a bus thing,” I say, feeling instantly like shit. But only a little bit, because I’m too distracted by my old memory.
And then I pull her into my arms, just like I did when I was fifteen, and—holy shit. I’m holding her close, but not like I usually do. I don’t slam our bodies together and suffocate her mouth with mine. This time, I picture myself at fifteen, trying to comfort that scared girl who was petrified of heights.
“Lyric,” I say again because there are no words for the coincidence we’ve just stumbled upon. I’m not even sure if she’s connected the dots yet, but I sure as fuck remember. At fifteen, I had a raging boner for a girl I dragged up to the rooftop because she was sad. Her dad was sending her to live with her mom, and I wanted to make her feel better.
That girl was Lyric.
And the man who called her away from me was Mitch fucking Cassidy. If Mitch had been performing that night I might have made the connection, but he must have brought Lyric there to watch my dad’s show.
“Beowulf,” she says.
She remembers. But wait. I never told her my name. “What?”
“Beowulf,” she repeats. “Some guy was calling out that name over and over after I left the rooftop with my dad. Is that your name?”
I nod. Shit. No one has called me that in years. “That was my dad.” I look down at her again, still dazed by the coincidence. “This is insane,” I finally say because I don’t know what other words can describe what is happening now. I still think about that girl now and then. That girl who had to rush off like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, except she didn’t drop a thing. There was nothing left to remember her by—just my memories.
Lyric looks up at me. “Your dad was performing that night? That’s how you got backstage.”
I nod and swallow. “When he was with his old band. Before my mom got sick, I’d hang with him during my school breaks. He never paid me any attention, though. I hated touring with him.”
“Which is why you escaped to the roof.” She’s grinning.
I brush my finger along her cheek. “And I heard you crying.”
Her eyes close and she leans into my palm, releasing a sigh. “That fauxhawk was so sexy.”
Her words throw me. She just lightened what could have been a very serious conversation.
I laugh. “I still style it like that sometimes.”
She grins and slides two palms against the sides of my head. “I would love to see that. Do it for me?”
She has no clue that I would do anything for her. “I think that can be arranged.” And then I have to ask. “What happened after you left to live with your mom?”
Lyric shrugs, trying to act nonchalant as Lyric does but failing this time. “Destiny Lane was busy. My mom was never there. I can count on two hands how many times I saw her before I graduated from high school and moved to Seattle.”
“What? How is that possible? Who took care of you?”
“Deloris,” Lyric responds sourly. “The nanny. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a nanny when you’re a teenager? Everyone thought Deloris was my mother, though. I guess it was easier that way since she was the one who picked me up from school and took me to the doctor’s and stuff before I got my license.” She rolls her eyes and then laughs. “Anyway, I thought about your fauxhawk for a long time after that night.”
I chuckle. “I totally would have shoved my tongue down your throat if your dad hadn’t interrupted us.” When her face lights up, I lean in and touch her nose with mine. “I’m trying desperately hard not to shove my tongue down your throat right now, but it’s our first date. I can’t kiss you until it’s over. And then I promise I won’t stop kissing you until I have you against a wall. I just have to pick one.”
I look up and pretend to have an internal debate about wall options. There are few to choose from and they all surround the rooftop door, but the debate is pointless. I’ve already chosen the one I want to see her convulse against.
Lyric slides her hands around my waist, links them together, and stares up into my eyes. “Deal.”
Grinning and locking my arm in hers, I walk her to the table and hold out her chair. I sit across from her and lift my wine glass, gesturing for her to do the same. She does, and my chest swells when I see her wide smile. She’s happy. I’m making her happy.
“To the first girl I ever snuck onto the rooftop of the Aragon.”
She scoffs. “I hope you mean the only.”
I laugh. “Yes, the only.”
Our eyes lock as we sip from our glasses. When I set mine down I’m full of questions. Questions I can’t believe I’ve never asked her before. Somehow along the way I went from wanting to one-night-stand Lyric to wanting to know everything about her. And I’m not even ashamed. “So tell me about Deloris. She still around?”
Lyric smiles, and I can already see the fondness she carries for the woman. “She’s working for another family now. Destiny Lane let her go when I moved out.” She laughs. “Let’s just say Deloris is in a much better place. We’re friends on social media, so I’ve seen the little girls she’s looking over now, and I can see how much they adore her. It all worked out for the best.”
I smile. I was fortunate enough not to have two parents in the industry. My mom was always there. Lyric didn’t have that luxury. Thank God for Deloris.
“You should invite her to a show. I’m sure you’d love to see her again.”
Lyric’s eyes light up. “Really? Maybe if she can take some time off I could fly her out. She loves your music.”
I catch the blush that creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. “Tell me more,” I tease curiously.
She sighs and rolls her eyes. “I may have sent her your first CD when it came out. She was always supportive of my musical tastes, and I might have mentioned you to her a time or two.” A deeper blush blossoms, and I think I’m enjoying this a little too much.
“Is that right?” I’m fully grinning now, and she leans back in embarrassment.
“Fine, confession,” she says with her hands up. “I’ve always been a fan of your music. It’s—I don’t know—original. Healing too, in a way.” She swallows.
Everything she’s saying is exactly why I do this. I love that Lyric gets it. But she’s always gotten it. Seen me through the music and the image. And in some strange way, I’ve always gotten her, too.
“Your album, A Stranger Me,” she continues, “that was like, my life’s soundtrack at the time it came out. I’d listen to it when I felt like I was losing myself, and it made me feel less alone.”
She shrugs, and I can see so much in this moment. So much in her. All that she’s lost and suffered. But most of all, how strong Lyric Cassidy truly is.
We somehow manage to keep our hands off each other through dinner, but the moment we’re done eating, I pull her to her feet and wrap my arms around her. “Dance with me,” I say. Des
ire surges through me, and I know she can hear it in my voice—not that I’m trying to hide it. I want her. I always want Lyric, but tonight is different.
Tonight, Lyric’s showing me a different side of her. One that isn’t afraid to tell me she’s been a fan of my music since the beginning. That, along the fact that we had a special bond when we were just fifteen years old, reaffirms that whatever is going on between us is not something I’ll be letting go of anytime soon.
She returns my embrace, and we sway to the light rock music playing from the wireless speaker on our table. When she looks up at me with those beautiful green eyes, I get lost for moment. My lips find hers and I’m memorizing them, devouring them, until our bodies can’t get any closer. I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. I palm her bare ass cheeks beneath her skirt and push my cock into her, but I’m blocked by too many layers of clothes. Lyric always wears the sexiest underwear, but right now, I just want to tear them off.
The chosen wall is a few feet away, so I walk her to it and place her back against it as promised. I always make good on my promises. She puts more of her sexy noises in my mouth, and I grind into her more eagerly than before.
“Can we just pretend I walked you home and gave you a sweet goodnight kiss? Because I really want to sink into your sweet pussy right now.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” Her lips curl up into a smile. “Hell yes.”
I stand her up just to slip her panties from her and steal a taste along the line of wetness forming between her thighs. For a second, I consider throwing a leg over my shoulder and mouth-fucking her into oblivion, but this time, my need to be inside her is too great.
I quickly push my jeans and underwear down to my ankles. Then I effortlessly lift Lyric up, palming her ass again as she wraps her legs around me. I’d rather her be naked, but I won’t risk it, knowing there’s already a good chance we can be seen by neighboring windows. I press her backward so she’s flush against the brick, my body protecting her from sight. If anyone is going to see anything, it’ll be my ass, and I couldn’t care less if anyone gets an eyeful of that.
My dick is already positioned perfectly to take her, although I still have to manage to put a condom on. Damn it.
“Wolf,” she says, and I’m worried—worried that she wants to wait until we’re in our hotel room in private. My dick flinches, as if readying itself for the rejection to follow. But when she speaks, she pants. “No mercy. Give it to me hard.”
“Your wish is my command.”
I snake a condom on as fast as physically possible and slide into her. With her back propped up against the wall, I support her head with one palm and her ass with the other.
Every stroke of my tongue in her mouth comes with a powerful thrust. And then I separate our mouths to look down. Her skirt hides my view so I maneuver it a little, folding it up into her waistband. And hell. There it is. I have to exercise massive self-control as I slow down my movements and watch every inch of my cock disappear inside her. My stomach muscles tighten as I pull out just as slowly as I entered. When I push back into her, she moans deeply. It’s all too much.
Lifting my eyes from the show below, I take my hand from behind her head and unbutton her jacket, exposing her heaving breasts. Every bit of Lyric is so damn beautiful. I plant my face between her tits, close my eyes, and resume my powerful thrusts into her.
Usually I can control these situations. I can aim and shoot at my target with perfection, but not tonight. I’m inside her, but the build-up isn’t under my control because I’m practically blinded by Lyric’s insane beauty and sexual dominance. She’s pinned against the wall, her arms are around my neck, and she’s kissing me with as much abandon as I’m kissing her—but when she starts grinding, she weakens my thrusts. I let her have control.
I’m so attuned to Lyric’s wants and needs; it goes against everything I’ve ever believed in when it comes to mixing sex and feelings. My badass rocker image is most definitely in question, but for Lyric, I’ll make the sacrifice.
She tugs at my hair, and I send myself deeper into her until I’m seeing stars. She calls my name and I call hers back as my final thrusts bring us both unraveling into one another as the Chicago traffic blares below us.
Chapter Twenty
Lyric
We can’t get enough of each other. For over a month, we lock ourselves in our rooms whenever we’re not working and flirt blatantly when we are. It’s not all about the sex, either, which is the most surprising part. We’re writing together. Sometimes we’re naked and teasing each other while we scribble in our notebooks, but we’re productive about it. He’s taken a few of the songs to the guys, and they get riled up each time. I can almost feel their itch to get back into the practice studio to hear how it all sounds.
And that’s why I have a surprise for them.
We arrive at the Los Angeles venue earlier than usual this morning. The East Coast leg of the tour is over, and we’re wrapping up the final few shows in California. As we near the venue, I catch a glimpse of familiar posters hanging from the surrounding fence. Salvation Road. Tony’s band.
It doesn’t bother me like it would have a month ago. In fact, it makes me giddy to know that loser didn’t get the best of me. Wolf has all of me, good and bad, and it’s so damn perfect. Ignoring the posters with Tony’s face on them, I focus on the surprise I have in store for the guys.
I disregard the grumbles from the band and dodge Wolf’s paws, which are clawing at me to come back to bed. “Who says you get to change the schedule on us? This is supposed to be morning sex time,” he growls. “Look at this.” He strokes his massive erection furiously.
I just laugh. “Not now, babe. Get up and meet us outside. I’ll take care of you later.”
He mutters something, but I’m already out the door and meeting Crawley at the bottom of the bus steps. He’s the only one who knows what I’ve been up to. Somewhere along the way, he realized there was nothing he could do about the relationship brewing between Wolf and me, and although I know he’s still pissed about it, he’s backed off some. I’m still not even sure what to call this thing between us, but our attraction for each other is completely out in the open. It’s hard to hide intense bus sex. Everyone’s just happy we have a private room instead of a bunk.
Wolf is the last one off the bus. He’s got a sour look on his face, but he approaches me anyway, moves around me, and wraps his arms around me from behind. “This better be worth the ice water I just had to toss on my dick.”
My eyes go wide as I look back at him, and I just can’t help it. I burst into laughter and spin around. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I kiss his nose and smile. “I promise it will be. Come.”
He groans as I tug him toward the backstage entrance. “Don’t remind me.”
The guys follow us past security and out onto the open stage. The road crew is already setting everything up for us. I spread my arms wide and smile at the guys. “You have two hours of practice time. I’ve set it up at every venue from now until the end of the tour. No charge. It’s up to you if you want to use it.” Then I get a blast of insecurity. What if the last thing they want is to work before a huge show? Shit.
Hedge lets out a holler. “Fucking yes!”
Stryder picks me up and spins me around. “You’re a mind reader, Lyric. We need this.” He pats Wolf’s shoulder in passing, and the rest of the band follow him to the stage. All but Wolf.
Wolf is staring at me, a new look in his eyes.
“You happy?” I ask him, hopeful.
There’s a tug at his lips, and I know his response before he picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist.
“You’re incredible, you know that?”
I tilt my head, unable to keep the smile from my face. “Well, if the rock star says so, it must be true.”
He grins. “Damn straight. Give me those lips.” He plants his mouth on mine and kisses me so hard it makes my head spin. I kiss him back, running my fingers through
his unruly hair. I love the way I feel in Wolf’s arms. Every single time we’re together, he makes me feel this way. He shows me he’s nothing like the rumors. Nothing like how he admits he used to be. He shows me I’m his and proves he’s worthy to be mine.
I never want him to let me go. Not in this moment. Not ever.
It’s a good few minutes into our make-out session before we hear Derrick calling to Wolf from the stage. He groans as he pulls away. “I’m going to fuck you crazy hard tonight. Get ready.” He places me down on wobbly legs and runs to the stage with his famous wolf cry.
I haven’t seen the guys have this much fun since our first nights out together. With the monotonous schedule they deal with on a daily basis, the excitement wanes, at least when they’re on the stage. Listening to them collaborate on the instrumentals gives me my own high. Seeing Wolf smile in general lights up my world, but watching him laugh and be playful with the guys is like getting a heavy dose of endorphins shot straight into my veins.
The show is the best the guys have done in a while, I think due to how relaxed they were all day. As much passion as they have for the music, there are times when it begins to feel like a job, and that’s when the stress creeps in. There’s so much energy radiating from them as they leave the stage; I know the rest of our evening consists of a club and copious amounts of alcohol.
Wolf is attached to my neck the entire way to the bar, whispering all the things he wants to do to me when we get back to the hotel. I’m quivering from his words by the time we get out of the car. His hand never leaves mine as we’re pulled from a back entrance into the VIP lounge.
