She’s breathtaking. I’m not sure how I’m resisting her because everything about Lyric screams “take me now,” from her shiny, purple heels to the way she’s looking at me like she wants to jump me. The way that flowery skirt rides up her glossy thigh. Fuck me. And the way her little hand slides into mine after reading the letter—that small gesture she offers me is enough to boost my confidence. Truth be told, I need the confidence boost.

Lyric will never know it, but I’m fucking nervous. I spent the whole day setting up for our night, wondering if I was completely losing my mind. Not only has she hooked my heart, but she’s reeling me in without any effort at all. It’s been over two weeks since I promised Lyric a date, and she hasn’t said a word about it. I’m not even sure she remembers, but I do. Lyric deserves more than the rare night out at a random bar and early morning orgasms. Although she does seem to really like the orgasms. Tonight, Lyric will get to experience one of my favorite places with all the bells and whistles.

Our driver parks near the back entrance of Aragon Ballroom, and the disappointment is obvious on Lyric’s face. I want to chuckle, but I decide to play with her a little. “I just need to stop here for a second. Come with me.”

She hesitates for a moment before sliding out of the seat and latching onto my hand. Rex hangs behind us, staying a safe distance back. He knows the plan and will ensure Lyric and I have our privacy.

As we walk, I imagine what it would be like to have her with me, just like this, every night. As my girlfriend and not my road manager. I’ll never mention the fantasy to Lyric, though. Knowing how much she loves her job, it’ll just piss her off. Instead, I keep it to myself and take her through the backstage hallway until we’re turning down a dark and narrow passage.

We arrive at the stairwell leading to the roof when Lyric freezes in her tracks. We grind to a halt, and I turn toward her. She’s probably creeped out.

I laugh and tug on her hand. “We’re not here for work. I want to take you somewhere.”

Her eyes aren’t on me, though; they are fixed on a pocket of darkness beneath the stairs. I have a flashback to the first time I saw that little nook. The same night I stole the rooftop keys for the first time so that I could get away from it all. From my dad. The tour. His skanky bimbos. All of it.

After a moment, she turns to me and lets out an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, I just remembered something. Where are you taking me?” she asks, curiously.

I wink. “To one of my all-time favorite places.”

“So, this isn’t a pit stop before our date?”

“This is our date, babe.”

Her face doesn’t give much away, so I lead her up the staircase, keeping a tight grip on her hand. The door is already unlocked, as planned. I open it and allow her to walk past me. When she does, she gasps. “Wolf,” she breathes.

I had the entire rooftop decorated with strings of white twinkle lights and gas lanterns. Rose petals cover every surface, and a cloth-draped table sits in the center of it all with our dinner plates protected by silver domes. She looks around the space, taking it all in, her mouth wide in wonder. She’s impressed.

Before she can say a word, I take her in my arms so the small of her back is pressed against me. “I thought we could have a private dinner with a view before the show.” I run my nose from her cheek to the base of her neck, eliciting shivers all along her sexy body. The effect I have on her always makes me hard—even more than the thought of planting myself between her thighs.

“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. Desire 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.