I hate the chase. Fucking hate it, but there’s one thing I hate more: rejection.

What the hell? How did we get here? It’s been two weeks since our orgasmathon, and we haven’t spoken a word outside of conversations about the tour. Even those are brief and cold—a lot like my showers lately.

Every attempt I’ve made to get Lyric alone has been skillfully thwarted. It seems like Crawley is on her team, too. Every time I think I’ve found my chance to talk to her, Crawley swoops in and pulls me in a different direction. I get that he doesn’t want the distraction, but it’s my life, my band, my tour, my crew… His job description doesn’t include being a cockblock.

If I’m honest with myself, though, I haven’t made the grandest of attempts to get Lyric alone to talk to her. My ego is still bruised by the words she left me with.

I could let her in. Tell her things. If she only knew what my life was like before she walked into that elevator and how vastly different I want it to be now, she wouldn’t be so quick to judge. I never used to think twice about hurting a girl’s feelings. All I cared about was making my intentions clear so I could justify my actions.

What Lyric once said about one-night stands turned out to be completely true. I see that now. One person always has expectations coming out of it. Sex is rarely just sex. Even I know that. But I never cared before because I was never the one getting hurt. Sex has never meant anything more than pure fucking pleasure for me, but now it seems I’m getting a taste of my own medicine.

Lyric may be the only woman I’ll ever want to claim as my own. She’s the only one who makes me crazy at the thought of another guy touching her. Like now, as I stare at her from across my dressing room while she laughs with a guy from security. The same asshole who's made it known to the band and crew the dirty thoughts he’s had about Lyric. I want to pummel him. Smash his face into a wall and carry her to our tour bus so I can remind her how my mouth feels on her pretty pussy.

Stryder hands me a shot, and I throw it back without thinking. We’re in Columbus, Ohio and have the night off before heading to Louisville, Kentucky first thing in the morning. Which means tonight, we drink.

Lyric’s eyes meet mine from across the room. She’s mid-laugh, looking gorgeous as ever with my face plastered on her breasts. I think she wears that shit on purpose. Seeing a hot woman in my merch is always a turn on, but Lyric kills the competition. Her innocent eyes search mine briefly before turning back to the security dude. I stand with full intention to head toward her, but she’s already making her exit.

Those little glances she’s been throwing my way recently tell me this isn’t over. Whatever wall she’s put up is starting to crumble. Maybe she needed the past two weeks to help her realize this attraction isn’t going to fade. She has to know there’s been no one else in the time we’ve spent apart.

Lyric is still mine. Or at least, I’m still hers.

I’ll get to the bottom of her resistance, and I’ll fix this. It’s clear now. There’s no other goddamn option.

 

 

The backstage traffic is heavy tonight. Concert security surrounds me as they clear a controlled walking path. The head of security, a big bald dude who even I wouldn’t mess with, leads us toward a waiting area just before the stage. Fans are lined up against the cement block walls, screaming, reaching for me, begging for autographs, trying to snap photos. Lights are popping off, faces become spotty, and I hear the roar.

The waiting crowd is already chanting my name as they eagerly anticipate my howl—it never gets old, even for me—and my adrenaline is pumping triple-speed.

Among the chaos, I see her leaning against the corridor wall like always, watching me as I make my walk to the stage. But this time is different. This time, when I ignore everyone but her and our eyes connect, my heart jolts to life. Even with the screaming crowd ahead of me, she’s all I want. And I won’t waste another second.

“Over there,” I yell to Rex. I point to Lyric and he nods.

Rex the lead, forcing security to follow until I’m right where I want to be—directly in front of Lyric. I lean in and brush my lips across her cheek, stopping at her ear. “Can we talk? After the show?”

Her eyes are as wide as saucers, but she nods.

I smile, loving that I still have this effect on her. With a quick nip at her ear, I continue the walk to the stage to join my band. I don’t care who just saw my display of affection. Hopefully everyone. Most won’t think anything of it, and the ones who care don’t matter. All that matters is ending this silence between us.

One thing is certain as I cross the backstage gap from the hallway to the stage and hear the crowd roar at the opening chords of our intro—this is going to be a great night.

I hang back, and Jimmy, one of our technicians, tosses me my mic. I check for the light, give him a wink, and jump from foot to foot, ready make a run for it when the band hits my cue. The intro morphs into a keyboard solo, and then a drum solo, and then when the guitar riff reaches a scream, I take the four steps in two long strides and run to my mark at center stage.

I plant my feet, arch my back, and howl to the fucking moon. Like always, the crowd responds with an even bigger roar. While they can’t hear a thing, I start the first verse of “Joke’s On You.”

 

There’s something waiting on the other side of fighting

Living like there’s nothing, and it’s a damn shame

Crying eyes are blinding, temperatures are rising

Back to the beginning, and it’s all a lying game

 

Three songs into the show, I stop to catch my breath. This is the junkie in me right now. Addicted to the sound, to the stage, to the lights blinding everything but where I’m supposed to stand next. I’m not even aware of my movements most of the time. It’s like I’m transported to a fucking cloud every time I get on this stage. But there’s something extra-special about tonight.

This is my time to talk to the crowd, introduce the band, and kick off “Dangerous Heart.” It’s been a hit since the San Diego show, but now that the song is officially ours, the label has been eating that shit up and promoting it like crazy on social media. We’re recording it at the end of the East Coast tour, which will make for a tired-ass week. It was supposed to be our week off. We rarely get breaks on tour, but when recording gets jammed into the schedule, that means less sleep and higher stress for everyone. We don’t care, though. We’re excited to officially release it and start celebrating our next hit.

“This song, you should all know by now. If you don’t, well, pay attention. I stumbled upon these lyrics, and somehow, magically, they became ours. You know those people in life who do things because they love them? Not for the money, not for the fame, but because they have a passion for something? Those people are rare.

“The writer of this song wants to remain anonymous, but I’ll have you know, she’s fucking incredible. Maybe one day you’ll get to meet her, but for now, this song is called ‘Dangerous Heart.’”

The crowd responds with the second loudest roar of the night. They all know it already. The way social media took to this song has created a bigger buzz for it than any of our other songs. Even our biggest hits.

I lock eyes with Lyric during the chorus the way I do every single night. Mad at me or not, she’s always on the side stage supporting the band—supporting me. After the show, I have every intention of showing her, not telling her, what that means to me.

 

 

Somehow the backstage crowd has tripled by the time we finish our last song. I’m surrounded by security as they part the way, Rex on my tail.

“Who the fuck invited all these people back here?” I explode when I’m in my dressing room. We couldn’t get out the back entrance due to an even bigger crowd outside.

“They’re clearing it now. We can leave in ten,” Crawley says, pacing. “I’ll talk to Lyric.”

My eyes narrow darkly at him. There he goes again. His problem with Lyric is goddamn pissing me off. “You and I both know this isn’t Lyric’s doing. How many passes did the label hand over to the radio stations? I want to know whose fault this is. It makes me look like an asshole when I can’t even stop to talk to my fans. I can’t even see them beyond security. It’s not their fault they were all handed badges. They expect to see us.”

“So what do you want to do?” Crawley asks, annoyed.

His constant stress and finger-pointing grates on my last nerve.

“I can set up a meet and greet,” a voice calls from across the room. At some point, Lyric entered, and now she stands here, calm as ever. “We can have security keep the line moving so it doesn’t take too long, but at least you’ll get to see some of your fans.”

“Okay,” I agree.

Crawley’s jaw is ticking. “Fine, but this is on you to set up.” He narrows his eyes at her.

She shrugs. “I said I would.” Without missing a beat, as always, she pulls out her phone and makes a few phone calls to the promotion teams at the radio stations before radioing the head of security to meet her in my dressing room.

For the hour it takes to set everything up and usher the crowds to a private room, my mind is on Lyric. I’m a jumble when I think about what I want to say to her, wondering how I can possibly convince her I’m not a bad guy. And although I’ve never been interested in a relationship with anyone before, she makes me want something different. Something more.

When everything is ready, Lyric leads me into the room she had set up. I’m happy to see my band here with me. As much as I want it all to be over, our fans deserve this. Some of them have supported us since we started the band six years ago, and it’s because of them that we’ve catapulted into headlining arenas. The days of being an opening band are far gone. We want to thank the fans whenever we get a chance.

Lyric stops at the table and turns to me, apparently surprised at how close I am. I smile; she looks away, but I catch the flicker of sadness. Whatever the reason for her avoidance, it cracks the surface of my normally ice cold heart. Okay, I’ve never been heartless, but I’ve never cared to be understood, either. Until Lyric.

“You’re pretty damn amazing, you know that?” I smile warmly. “Thank you for setting this up so quickly. We owe you.”

Her eyes are kind as they settle back on mine. When she smiles, my heart does a somersault in my chest. I instinctively reach for her waist but pull my hands back when I hear the commotion at the door. Sighing, I look at the line of fans shuffling in before turning back to Lyric. “Meet me in the hotel lobby when we’re done here.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’m going there now to get everyone checked in, anyway. See you soon.”

It seems like the natural thing to do to lean down and brush my lips against hers, but I don’t for a million damn reasons. I will be kissing those lips, though. Soon, but not soon enough.

 

 

By the time we leave the venue, my body is wrecked from exhaustion and I’m fighting to keep my eyes open. The guys went straight to the bar after the meet and greet, so I’m riding back to the hotel with Rex. When I see Lyric waiting for me in the lobby, just as I asked, I want to melt. She changed into black capri leggings and a Wolf hoodie. Fucking gorgeous.

She glances up from her phone and watches me approach, concern etched in her features. “You okay?”

I don’t respond right away. Instead, I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her neck. When I take in her scent, sparks light up in my chest at the sheer pleasure of it. Up until this moment, I’ve respected the distance Lyric was keeping between us, but I can’t stay away from her anymore. It’s killing me. This—holding her, breathing her in—it’s everything I never knew I wanted until I met her.

To my surprise, she returns my embrace and tightens her hold around my waist, filling my chest with warmth. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything. I just need this. And I’m wrecked after today.”

“Should we go somewhere?” Her voice is muffled in my shoulder, but I hear her.

I nod. “I can barely keep my eyes open. Let’s go to my room.” She freezes in my hold, so I pull myself away to look her in her eyes. “Just to talk, Lyric. And I want to hold you.” I brush my finger across her cheek, loving the way she looks back at me now—like she’s conflicted, but there’s no way she’s going to deny my needs.

“Your room or mine?”

I know there’s a ridiculous smile on my face when she blushes and leads me to the elevator. We get in, and I wrap my arms around her from behind, never wanting to let go. After tonight, I hope I never do.

Once we're safely inside her hotel room, I head for the bathroom first. I’ve been going nonstop for hours, and my bladder is about to explode. I’d kill for a shower, but I’m not sacrificing any of the precious time I have with Lyric.

She’s sitting on the bed when I enter the room, her feet dangling off the edge and her head down as if she's in deep thought. I sit beside her, making no move to touch her, although it’s all I want to do. I’m stunned when she speaks first. “That was nice what you said about me tonight. On stage.”

I look at her. “I meant it.”

Her next breath is a deep one, drawing my eyes to the rise and fall of her chest, but I catch myself and immediately lift them to her face. Tonight isn’t about sex. Lyric deserves more.

“Look, these two weeks have been hell. I’m not sure if your avoiding me has more to do with Crawley or my reputation, but you should know I’m not going to let Crawley be the reason you can’t even look at me anymore. I’ll deal with him.”

Her lids flutter closed for a second before her eyes land on mine again. I suck in a breath to stop myself from throwing her back on the bed and claiming her mouth.

“It’s not Crawley,” she sighs. “What he said to me didn’t help the situation—”

I heat up immediately. “What did Crawley say?”

She shakes her head. “Some shit about my reputation and your todger.” She surprises me by giggling. It’s so fucking adorable, I melt. “He may have been out of line, but he was right. I’m here to do a job, and it’s obvious I can’t do my job if we’re messing around.”

I groan and turn to face her. “That was the hotel’s mess-up, Lyric. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have scrambled to find accommodations for everyone and then paid for it. They fucked up. Not you. Stop beating yourself up. And stop using that as an excuse as to why you ignored every single one of my messages that night and every attempt I've made to talk to you since. I wanted to respect your space. Part of me started to think maybe the distance was a good thing.”

Shaking my head, I bite back a frustrated growl. “What I feel for you isn’t normal—for me. I can’t promise you the world like you deserve. All I know is I’ve been miserable since that day. It doesn’t help that you have zero reason to think more of me.”

“Wolf, it’s not that I don’t think more of you. You’ve surprised me. I didn’t expect to—” she shakes her head. “I would have slept with you, and then what? You go back to your lineup of women, and I go back to being just your road manager?”

My chest puffs. “Have you seen me so much as talk to any of those women who've come around?”

She doesn’t hesitate before shaking her head, which tells me she’s already thought of this. Good. “I guess not.”

“Why do you think that is?”

She shrugs, avoiding my eyes.

I groan. “Lyric, you’re the only one I see. When I’m singing to a sea of faces, yours is the one I look for. The moment we step back on the bus, you’re the one I want to spend my time with.”

Her mouth drops open, and there are tears in her eyes. “But what does that mean, Wolf? You’ve suddenly changed? And I’m not just talking about the rumors. I’m referring to conversations you and I have had. You told me I wasn’t your type, and then you made it clear that you don’t date. It didn’t matter to me because I didn’t come on this tour looking for anything. I was running away from one thing that was bad for my heart, and I ran smack into another.”

My insides squeeze as a tear slips from her eye. I wipe it away the moment it hits her cheek. “It’s a good thing you’re not my type. We both know what I was doing before I met you. And I can’t promise I’m a changed man. I don’t know what this is between us, okay? What I can tell you is that I’ll be completely honest with you while we figure this shit out. Because I want to figure it out. Don’t you?”

She nods and takes a ragged breath. I let out a sigh and lean my forehead on hers. “Thank fuck.” She laughs. “Now that we’ve settled that,” I say as I pull her to her feet and tilt her chin up until our eyes meet. “I’m not leaving your side tonight, so either I stay here with you or you come to my room. No sex,” I say, letting the promise linger in the air. “Just let me hold you.”

I hear her intake of breath, and it fills me with warmth.

“You can stay.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Good,” I growl with a puff of my chest. Damn, this feels good. Just being here.

I don’t want to leave her for even a second, but if I’m going to sleep with Lyric, my balls should be fresh. Even if she won’t be touching them. I cry a little inside. “Before I climb in next to your sexy ass, I need a shower. Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

She smiles shyly and my insides go crazy.

“Go,” she says with a little shove.

I’m not sure if jacking off in the shower will help or hurt me tonight, but I do it anyway, praying the release holds me over until I can take care of myself again in the morning. I meant what I said to Lyric about no sex. Tonight wasn’t a ploy to get into bed with her.

I groan as I empty myself, the dirty thoughts of Lyric suddenly turning into something surprising. Something sweeter. Kissing Lyric’s soft lips.

Just kissing her.

I’m out of the shower in record time and throw a towel around my waist. Rex must have dropped off my overnight bag with Lyric because it’s sitting on the bathroom counter. Which means she was in here while I was jacking off to thoughts of her. I smirk, wondering if she heard anything.

After digging around in my bag, I find everything I need. I apply deodorant, run a comb through my hair, and throw on a pair of boxer briefs and shorts. It’s suffocating but safe. After some hesitation, I decide to put on a shirt, too.

She’s already under the covers when I flip off the bathroom light and make my way to her. I slip under the comforter and immediately pull her to me so my fully clothed, limp dick is nestled between her ass cheeks and my nose is in her hair. She smells like heaven, and the thin fabric of her tank top is soft against my skin.

I brush a strand of her long hair off her neck and dip down to taste the flesh of her shoulder with a light bite, lick, and kiss. Her moan is soft and encouraging, so I do it again. My dick isn’t limp anymore, and I realize tonight might hurt—a lot. We rest there for a minute before either of us speaks.

“You never talk about your dad,” she says quietly. My heart beats a little faster, realizing that I want to tell her everything. How is that possible? We’ve only known each other a few weeks and I’m ready to divulge my entire life history to her. Maybe because I know we’ve led similar lives. God knows she didn’t have it easy with Mitch Cassidy and Destiny Lane as her parents.

“There’s not much to talk about, Lyric. He was never around. His music came first, which I get … now … but still, he had a family, you know? Never once were we the priority. I got used to hating him. Now, I just don’t think about him.”

She sighs softly. “Do you hear about him now? Do you know where he is?”

I chuckle lightly. “No, and I don’t care. I can’t fix him. There was a time I thought I could, but that was me being young and optimistic. I believed anything was possible. He just … didn’t care. And I’ll never understand it. I can’t imagine forgiving him, and I’ve learned to live with that.”

“I know how you feel,” she says, her tone saddened most likely by her own memories.

From the moment we met, there was a connection. I didn’t get it at first. I just thought Lyric was a hot chick with something to prove who was joining the tour. I expected her to be a pain in my ass, and part of me wanted to egg her on. But something changed the moment I knew she wrote the lyrics of that song. It was like she came into my life at the exact moment I needed her to. I don’t know what any of it means other than the fact that I’m ready to let this play out instead of slamming the door on it. Whatever it is.

With a feather-light touch, I drag my fingers down Lyric’s arm until I reach her hand. Twining our fingers together, I squeeze, and then press against her again. Her breathing comes in heavy pants that speak directly to my aching balls. She doesn’t have to tell me she wants me. The tiny noises coming from her throat and the way her ass pushes into me tells me everything I need to know.

“We’re not having sex tonight,” I repeat as she grinds her backside against me, causing me to grit my teeth.

I unravel our fingers and slide my hand back up her body until I reach the bottom of her tank top and slip it beneath the fabric. I’m aching to touching her silky soft skin. Moving my hand up further, I grip her bare waist and press into her again. “Turn around.”

When she’s facing me, she bats her eyes, then places a hand at the bottom of my shirt and tugs upwards.

I lift my hands over my head and allow her to remove it, leaving my chest bare for her searching fingers. She’s focused on every detail, leaving chills behind every touch. I’m so interested in what she’s doing to me that I forget about touching her. My entire body is vibrating. And then her hands reach the waistband of my shorts.

“Off,” she commands.

My body goes tense, and I stare at her with warning. My dick jerks with excitement as if he knows she’s coming after him. “Lyric.”

“No sex tonight, but I want to feel you.”

Fuck.

I tug the shorts off quickly and kick them to the end of the bed. “Better?” I ask huskily.

She smiles and shifts so her legs are intertwined with mine, and then she presses a sweet kiss below one pec, creating a buzz throughout my body. Just the feel of her lips on my skin is too much.

She continues to place kisses across my chest, working her way up to my neck. When she reaches her destination, I groan and place my hand on the back of her neck, massaging it slowly as my raging erection continues to dig into her.

Every movement causes my balls to ache a little more, but I can’t get over the fact that her lips have touched most of my body except my lips. I need her mouth. Now.

In a swift move, my mouth catches hers before she can drag her lips down again. It’s the softest of kisses, and I enjoy every damn second of it. Her lips are plush, like my favorite kind of pillow. Conforming to my every direction. Sinking and lifting. Warming at every contact. Like everything else about Lyric, her lips are perfect.

I’ve never had to restrain myself before. When I want a woman, I take her. Holding back for Lyric is making me crazy in so many ways.

Our breaths collide before I press down on her lips again, showing her just how much my mouth needs hers. My tongue finds its entrance and dips into the warmth, earning a moan from her. Lyric’s grip tightens on my waist before she slides her hands over my ass and squeezes.

I growl and push my length against her stomach, making her gasp. “No sex,” I say again because she’s either forgotten or trying to kill me with all the touching.

She giggles, slipping her index finger under the fabric of my underwear and sliding it around until she’s touching the nest of hair at my groin. My heart pounds at the thought of her hands on me again. It’s been too long. “Goddamn, Lyric,” I moan as her hand travels lower. I want her so bad. She can’t keep touching me like this.

And then she wraps her small hands around my engorged length and squeezes.

I gasp, my vision blurs, my heart beats double-time, and then it’s game over.

My teeth tug at her bottom lip before I remove her tank top. I hate that she has to remove her hands from me, but we’ll get back to that. Right now, I need her tits in my mouth.

I sigh before taking a mouthful and swirling my tongue over her skin until she lets out a scream. My free hand keeps busy, too, working its way down to her underwear and slipping a finger over the fabric that covers her clit. I circle my finger and I suck at her nipples until she gives me more of those tiny noises I love to hear.

I almost explode the moment she pushes against my chest, climbs on top of me, and slips my briefs down enough to release my erection. “Wait here,” she pants as she rolls over and removes her underwear.

Just as quickly, she’s on top of me again and plants her mouth on mine with a groan. I’m speechless when she removes her mouth for a moment and reaches down to plunge her fingers into herself before spreading the wetness around her pussy. When she’s satisfied, she pushes my throbbing dick against my stomach and moves against it as her hand strokes the underside.

I’m going to lose it. She’s not pushing me into her. Instead, she’s using the length of my dick as her riding stick, fucking me with those pretty lips while jacking me off. This is new. And while she’s getting us both off, I get to watch her face. Her eyes are closed, but her mouth is slightly parted and releasing little pants of air with each movement. Her gorgeous breasts bounce above me, and her tiny waist moves with controlled, skillful movements that roll her sexy hips against me. Damn.

I watch as her need for a release overcomes her. It’s sexy as hell, and it looks like she’s about to come any second. I grip her waist, slowing her movements slightly as she starts convulsing above me. With a quick move, I’m replacing her weakened hold on my cock and stroking myself, releasing my buildup while watching her clit throb and her body shudder above me.

“Holy shit,” she mewls.

Holy shit is right.

I pull her down so her body is flush against mine and take her mouth, kissing the hell out of her. When I pull away, I chuckle. “That was the best non-sex I’ve ever had.”

She laughs and rolls off me, still trying to catch her breath. “Yeah,” is all she manages to say before we pass out in each other’s arms.