Shane
Dread seeped into my pores as I turned away from the audience to seek out Delaney’s face. Something was wrong. Really wrong. I took a few steps toward her, thinking maybe the lights were distorting my view. But no. I froze, the emotions radiating from her face tearing through me like shrapnel. “Delaney?” I breathed, forgetting about the microphone in my hands until her name reverberated in my earpiece.
Delaney’s eyes were wide as she shook her head. One hand flew to her mouth, flattening a palm against her lips as if holding back a scream.
I blinked, and she was gone.
Gone.
Before I could ask her to marry me.
Tearing my eyes from the empty space Delaney had occupied just seconds earlier, I shot a confused glance toward Landon. The LED screen went dark, hashtag fading. The disappointed crowd was already restless, and if I took off after Delaney like I wanted to, there was no telling what would happen. Landon launched into the opening riff of one of our most popular songs, the one we usually closed with. Good. I could sing it and then get the fuck offstage. My mind raced as the familiar lyrics skated smoothly through my lips, clutching the microphone so tightly my knuckles glowed white.
Maybe Delaney would be back in my dressing room. Maybe asking her to be my wife in front of fifty thousand fans wasn’t the kind of proposal she wanted. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Small hopes that were as faint and thready as the sulfur tail of a match. After it’s been extinguished.
Fear squeezed my chest, so tight I had to cut a few notes short.
Maybe I should let her go.
But why? Surely that black cloud hovering over my head was moving on, or at least had run out of rain. Everything I’d been so ashamed of was out in the open, and life still went on. Delaney knew me. Had seen the very worst parts of me, up close in all my scarred, ugly glory. And she hadn’t run.
No. Delaney had planted her feet in front of me, wrapped her arms around me. And stayed.
Why was Delaney running? And why now? When it looked like we might have a future—a real one—together.
Somehow I managed to get through the song, then choked out a half-assed joke about going to find my stage-frightened girlfriend. I knew she wouldn’t be in my dressing room before I flung open the door, but even so, the sight of the empty room hit me like a kick to the head. The door slammed into the opposite wall and bounced back toward me, but by the time it clicked closed I was halfway down the corridor, confusion and betrayal stewing in my gut.
“Shane, wait!”
My heart leapt at the female voice, the unmistakable tap-tapping of heels on cement. But they didn’t belong to Delaney. “Where is she?” I asked Piper, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.
“She took a car back to the hotel. I have the driver on the line. Do you want me to have him pull over?”
I thought for a minute. I didn’t want Delaney to feel trapped, or spied on. “No. Let him take her back to the hotel. Just tell him to drive very, very slowly.” No way was I going to let her go. Not without a fight.
Piper spoke into the phone at her ear and hurried to keep pace with me as I raced toward the exit door. “There’s a car waiting, right?”
“Yes. We always keep a few on standby.” Although Piper had been assigned by Travis to keep tabs on Delaney and ensure she was always camera ready, she rarely came to our concerts. Tonight’s show was special though.
It was supposed to be special.
I nodded but didn’t say anything more until I pushed through the door and jumped into the car. There were nearly a hundred fans held back beyond ropes. They must not have had tickets, because anyone who had been in the arena couldn’t have gotten out here this fast. Normally I would have signed a few autographs and posed for selfies, but not tonight. I plastered a fake smile on my face, lifted my hand in a wave, and slid into the car before they could tell me how much they loved me. I wanted to hear those words, was desperate for them. But only if they came from Delaney’s mouth.
There was an empty part of my soul that was lined with bitterness and self-hatred. The part I’d tried to fill with booze and drugs and meaningless sex. And when that hadn’t worked, I’d filled it with fake relationships I could control, women I pretended were with me because I was worthy of love. But they weren’t with me. They were with Shane Hawthorne, rock star. They wanted money and fame and exposure. But Delaney had never given a damn about any of those things. She saw me. She wanted me. She’d stayed with me when anyone else would have run for the hills.
If nothing else, I needed to know why she was leaving me now. When I finally believed we might have a real chance.
Piper scooted in beside me, and I stifled the brief flare of annoyance. My misery and frustration filled the car enough without another body sharing the space. But she’d been useful so far, and there was a chance I would need her again. Until she huffed out a sigh reeking with judgment. “Did you say something to Delaney? I mean, I made sure she was perfectly made-up and dressed once Travis told me what you were planning to do tonight. She seemed fine earlier, and she looked gorgeous. I don’t understand.”
I turned pained eyes on Piper. “Of course I said something to her. I told Delaney how much she meant to me and how grateful I was to her for supporting me through the bullshit Greek tragedy that is my life.” I ran anguished hands through my hair, tugging at the ends. “You tell me, Piper…Where did I go wrong?”
Piper’s mouth pursed, almost as if she was holding something back. “That’s something you’re going to have to figure out, Shane.” She hesitated, pressing her lips together.
My patience was in shreds and I didn’t offer any. “Spit it out.”
Hoisting one shoulder upward, Piper dipped her head toward it. “Maybe it’s what you didn’t say that made her leave.”
I pushed my fingers beneath my thighs before I could wrap them around Piper’s neck and squeeze the life out of her. What the hell was she talking about? How could Delaney be upset about something I didn’t say? But before I could prod further, we pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. Without waiting for the driver to open my door, I flung it aside myself and bounded out.
As I strode through the lobby, heads swiveled and called my name. I ignored them, aiming straight for the elevators, but there was nothing I could do about the gaggle of girls that came rushing up and followed me into the elevator car. For twenty-two flights I signed autographs and stared into cell phone cameras, not even attempting a smile, fake or otherwise. As I put the room card into the lock, I had to shake off a particularly aggressive pair intent on a threesome. “Not tonight,” I hissed, closing the door and bolting it shut.
I knew instantly Delaney was there, could smell the delicious scent that wafted off her skin like pollen suspended on a summer’s breeze. My boots slapped the polished marble floor, announcing my presence well before I made it to the carpeted bedroom. Delaney’s black suitcase was open on the bed, clothes haphazardly tossed in its general direction. She stood a few feet away, clutching her toiletry bag to her chest like a security blanket.
The look in her eyes slammed into me with such force I rocked back on my heels. They were a cerulean riot of confusion and pain. “Hey.” The word scraped through my throat, sounding harsher than I intended. I lifted my hands and wrapped my fingers around the molding edging the doorframe, squeezing tight. “What’s going on?”
A ripple of warning skidded along my spine as I waited for her answer. One beat passed, then two. Delaney pressed her lips together, her tongue fluttering between the crease, then disappearing. “Don’t, Shane,” she murmured, eyes shimmering. “Please, just don’t.”
Delaney
The mechanical sweep of the lock against the door made my heart skip a beat. A tiny sound and yet it reverberated through my bones like a sonic boom.
It was too much to hope that I could have gotten away before Shane came looking for me. He must have left the arena as soon as possible without provoking a revolt by fifty thousand angry fans, because I’d been in the suite only a few minutes.
I shouldn’t have fallen for him. Should have followed the rules of that stupid, stupid contract and left my heart out of the mix. But I had broken the rules and fallen in love. Hard.
Not with the Shane Hawthorne I’d crushed on since I was a teenager, but the man behind the facade, stuck somewhere between Shane and Sean. And now my heart felt like it had been torn in two, stomped on by those rugged boots he wore everywhere.
Shane’s bulk filled the doorframe. Energy radiated from every brawny inch, exuding confusion and anger. His wounded eyes cut me deep. I looked from his head to his boots, knowing I’d touched and kissed every inch of the man standing before me. And that in a few minutes I’d go back to seeing Shane only in magazines and on album covers.
Hands straining to reach for him, I instead hugged my cosmetics bag tight to my chest, my heart thudding against a rib cage that felt as if it had shrunk overnight. Could I even put my emotions into words?
There was a good chance I would be the one in jail in the not too distant future. I certainly deserved to be. Would Shane ever be able to trust me once I admitted what I’d done…and that I’d been lying about it to everyone? Even him. Especially him.
Shane had invited me into his life to keep chaos at bay, and I’d brought only upheaval.
I was everything he didn’t want in his life. And now that he’d finally found peace?
I loved him too much to destroy it.
“Don’t what, Delaney?” Shane stood just inside the doorway, hurt smeared all over his gorgeous face. “Don’t sing your praises to an entire arena full of fans?”
“No, that…That was really sweet.” My tongue tripped over the words. “Thank you.” Walking away from Shane was ripping a hole in me so jagged it would never heal without leaving an ugly reminder of what I’d lost.
“Then what? Don’t ask—”
I threw the toiletry bag into my suitcase, shoving the smattering of clothes in after it and furiously tugging at the zipper. “Exactly. Don’t ask me anything.”
“Wow. So that’s how you’re going to play this?” Each syllable dripped with barely restrained fury.
I wasn’t playing. That was the problem. This wasn’t a game of charades for me. Every emotion I’d shown to the cameras was real. Wrenching the suitcase off the mattress, it landed with a thunk on the carpet and promptly tipped over. I stared at it, wishing I could just throw myself beside it. “I guess I am,” I said quietly, avoiding Shane’s angry stare.
Shane made a sound, an almost primal growl, slamming his fist into the wall with a violence that made me jump.
“Don’t,” I cried, cringing at the streaks of red on the white wall, the sight of Shane’s bloody knuckles sending me running toward him. “Jesus Christ, stop it.”
The moment I took a step toward him, I knew it was a mistake. That I should have stayed where I was. Because the closer I got to Shane, the more of his energy wrapped around me, stampeding over the last shreds of my willpower. And when I touched him…
A spark lit into me, feeding on the oxygen in my blood, bursting into flames I didn’t know how to extinguish.
I was his.
In surrender, I lifted my chin, and Shane’s mouth settled over mine. Like an airtight seal, our kiss held back the words I was too scared to let escape. Because once I did, there would be no going back. I didn’t know what Shane would say, what he would do. If he would hate me for what I’d done. If he would leave me.
Which was why I’d left him first.
But he’d come after me. And just like that, with one touch, neither of us was going anywhere.
Shane’s tongue teased me slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. Gathering the ends of my hair in his hands, Shane bunched it inside his fists, tugging my head back farther, tiny prickles alighting on my scalp. Not enough to hurt, just enough to send those same tingles everywhere. I yielded gratefully, curling my fingers around his neck, squeezing, urging. But no. Shane was setting the pace. A soft cry bubbled up from the back of my throat as I gave in. He licked at the corners of my mouth, nibbled at my lips. My eyes closed, escaping into the dizzying whirls of lust as I reached for the edge of Shane’s shirt, dragging it over his head. Needing it off. He did the same to my dress, flinging the designer creation across the room. A vent was at my back, blowing a cool, air-conditioned breeze along my spine, prickling my skin.
Shane cupped one pebbled breast in his good hand, his mouth closing over the other one. Licking, sucking, flicking his tongue over the needy peak as I arched into him. My mouth fell open, head tipping back, hair swishing against my shoulders as I made noises that sounded like a cornered animal. I was captured. Trapped in a gilded cage. A minute ago I’d been ready to fly away. But now I was in Shane’s arms, being worked over by that mouth of his that brought me to the edge of heaven and then pushed me beyond it. So. Many. Times.
My body came alive beneath his hands, his mouth. It had been like this since the first moment I’d set eyes on him. Maybe before that. Maybe all those magazine covers had predisposed me to fall apart in his arms. And every time our bodies met in this ancient, primal dance, the tide that swept me away seemed to grow more powerful. This thing between us, whatever it was, grew bigger, more overwhelming.
Because I was overwhelmed. Heat raced within my veins, leaving me gasping for breath.
Shane pulled away, pinning me with his stare. There was a nakedness to his need that mirrored my own. I could see it in his eyes, taste it on his lips. Moaning, I ran greedy fingers over the inked skin covering his rippling muscles. God, everything about this man was beautiful. His face, his body, his skin, his tattoos. His spirit.
When had I given him my heart? Could I trace back the exact moment it left my body and became his? The question flitted at the edge of my mind, scurrying away as Shane lifted me, setting me down on the center of the mattress as he stepped back to shuck off his jeans. Standing there for a moment in his full naked glory. And he was glorious. I shivered as I took in every last inch of him.
“Delaney.” My name was a groan, as if he knew anything else would put an end to what we were doing. There were so many words littering the air between us. Questions and answers that sizzled like grease on a hot skillet, popping and hissing. If we got too close, we’d be burned. By mutual consent, we focused on the one thing that required no words.
Lust.
Right now it was the only honest thing I had to offer.
I was wearing a nude lace thong, and he dragged it over my legs as if he were opening a present. He moved over me, knees indenting the mattress on either side of my thighs. Sliding long fingers beneath my head, Shane cradled my skull in his hands, kissing me until the room spun.
The tension and chaos that had seeped into my pores tonight, over the past couple of months, throughout the past three years—all of it fought for space in my body, leaving my skin as thin and tight as a cheap party balloon. I reveled in the weight of him against my chest, lending me his strength, keeping me centered as our heartbeats knocked along together. Shane. Me. Us.
This was what I wanted. Did anything else matter? If the truth would take him from me, did I really need to say a damn thing?
But I did. I did. I did.
Even lying beneath him, I could feel it eating away at me like acid. I would tell him. Just not now. Not yet. I needed this. It might be all I had, ever again.
I sighed as Shane guided himself into me, sinking deep. Deep, so deep. Filling that empty part of me that was a black void of guilt and grief.
Our hips rocked together, hands entwining above my head. Sweetness rushed through me, like drizzles of honey, as our mouths roamed, feasting on each other. Lips, necks, ears, collarbones. Our tongues lashed every bit of skin we could reach. Both of us so hungry.
My ankles hooked around Shane, drawing him even closer. Our panting breaths filled the air around us. Fast, shallow gasps. We sounded like sprinters, the end of the race in sight.
My eyes drifted closed, lost in an inner maelstrom of sensation.
“Delaney,” Shane barked. “Look at me.”
I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see Shane’s face. See what I was doing to him. A reflection of what he was doing to me. Our coupling was too intense to look closely. Too raw. Too desperate.
And it might be our last.
With a roar, Shane slammed into me. Except he didn’t pull back out. “Don’t shut me out, Delaney. I won’t have it.” It was more than a request.
I whimpered, giving in to Shane’s command. The sight of his bare chest, every muscle vibrating with the strain of holding himself in check, was enough to make me weep in awe. But it was his amber gaze that burned into me, penetrating through the top layer of my skin and leaving me defenseless. There was no armor strong enough to protect me from this man. His shameless charm, his stunning body. My sexy bad-boy rock star. My sweet Good Samaritan.
Head and heart of a lion, soul of a wounded boy.
Shane Hawthorne, I’m yours.
“I’ve got you,” he said, easing out of me with a tender look in his eyes, as if he’d read my mind. Pushing back slowly. Setting a new rhythm.
Shane released my hands, dragging his fingertips along my neck, my breasts, continuing lower until his calloused fingertips dug into my waist, holding on. His pace picked up, thrusts becoming frenzied. I met every one of them with equal force. We crashed into each other, pleasure darkening my vision until I was grasping at his shoulders, dizzy and out of control.
Everything in my body condensed, drawing tight, tight, tight. “Shane,” I screeched, nails digging into his back as I burst apart, splintering into tiny, glittering shards.
Shane growled into my neck, biting as he thrust one last time, and gathered my boneless body into his. “That settles it, Delaney. We’re getting married.”