Chapter 12 #3
I expect shame to come roaring back. It doesn’t. What rushes in is quieter, steadier—like standing in my own skin for the first time and finding it fits.
Jasper leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear, voice dark and taunting for Blake’s benefit. “You hear that? She’s not yours. Never was.” Then he licks up the side of my neck, and I shiver.
Riot’s grin turns wicked as he slides his palm a little lower, eyes never leaving Blake’s. “Maybe you should watch a little longer. Could teach you a thing or two.”
Riot’s fingers flex against my hip, the touch openly possessive, almost daring Jasper to stop him. My body is burning; my nerves are sparking everywhere they touch me. For one wild heartbeat, I’d let them do anything. Here. Now. With Blake watching.
Blake’s face twists—anger, disbelief, a wounded pride that used to own me. Not anymore. He spits out a curse, shoving past us. “You’re fucking sick. Both of you.”
He stalks off, jaw clenched, eyes hot with betrayal.
I want to laugh. Or cry. Or maybe melt.
A beat passes. Riot’s got his hands on me, but Jasper’s energy shifts—hotter, sharper. He steps in front of me, blocking Riot’s touch from Blake’s retreating back. Then he turns on Riot, voice as soft as a blade. “Hands off.”
Riot’s brow quirks, but he lifts his hands in mock surrender, playful and smug. “Relax, Reign. Only playing my part…unless...”
Jasper stares him down—possessive, territorial, but not angry, not really. “That’s the only time you get to touch her. You got to play your part. But don’t confuse it—she’s not a game. She’s mine, and I don’t plan on sharing.”
Riot grins, all teeth and trouble, but he steps back. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Well…maybe in my dreams.”
I let out a shaken laugh, adrenaline still thrumming as Jasper’s hand finds my waist again, this time pulling me to his side. No more games.
He kisses the top of my head, then low enough that only I hear, “Mine. You chose me. And I’ll make damn sure you never regret it.”
RIOT
The crowds are breaking up, but the electricity is still there—crackling between all three of us.
I can taste it—sharp and sweet, in the space Sawyer fills between me and Jasper.
The asshole, Blake, stomps off, but not before shooting me a look that says this isn’t over.
I can’t help the grin that creeps up my face. Let him try.
Jasper’s got Sawyer locked against his side like he’d brand her if he could. He’s territorial as hell—and I get it. She’s fucking lightning, and anyone who gets close enough wants to get struck.
Sawyer glances over her shoulder, lips parted, cheeks pink from the adrenaline and chaos. There’s a question in her eyes—like she’s wondering what would happen if she let both of us cross the line. Like she wants to know.
“Don’t push it, Riot,” Jasper warns.
I laugh, all teeth. “No promises, Reign. She looks damn good with both of us touching her.”
Sawyer snorts, but her hand flies to my wrist, squeezing once—equal parts warning and invitation.
I press my lips to Sawyer’s ear. “He’s got claws, Hellcat. But you? You’re the fire. Don’t forget that.” She shivers, just a little, and leans into me. That’s enough to keep me thinking about her for hours.
Jasper finally breaks the standoff, tugging her away—his, for now. I watch them go, pretending I don’t care. But she looks over her shoulder, catches my eye, and for one heartbeat, I know she’s thinking about me, too.
JASPER
Backstage is a blur of cables, shouted orders, and the stink of old sweat and new nerves. I should think about set lists, gear, and what the hell we’re opening with.
Instead, all I can think about is Sawyer—her laugh still ringing in my head, the way she looked at me and then over her shoulder at Riot. Like a challenge. Like a dare.
Every muscle in my body is tight, barely contained. Riot’s words echo—‘she looks damn good with both of us touching her’. I almost put my fist through the wall. But I didn’t. She wouldn’t want that. She’d probably laugh at me, call me out for being a caveman.
Ash breezes past, clapping me on the shoulder. “You good, Reign? Or do we need to send Riot to work out your attitude before the set?”
I give him a look that says I’m about two seconds from making this the shortest show of our career. He grins and disappears toward Silas at his drum kit.
Micah is grabbing Jace’s bass nearby, eyeing me over the neck. “Sawyer’s out there working. Don’t make a scene. She’ll get all the good shots if you keep your head.”
I nod, but the words barely land. I’m scanning the crowd, searching for the flash of her blue-green hair, the glint of her camera lens. She’s out there.
I sling my guitar over my shoulder, and let the tech drag me toward the right side of the stage. The lights drop, the crowd goes feral, and for a second, the only thing that exists is the pulse of bodies—my crowd, chanting my name.
But when I step on stage, it’s only Sawyer I’m looking for. I spot her right by the barricade, camera raised, eyes locked on me like I’m the only person in the world. That’s all I need.
Micah counts us in, and I let loose—screaming, howling, every lyric sharpened for her. I tear across the stage, every move reckless, dangerous, wild. I grab the mic, sweat running down my throat.
“How are we feeling tonight?”
The crowd roars, but I only care about one answer.
I grin straight at her, voice going rough. “Are you watching, Trouble? Because you won’t want to miss this.”
The crowd eats it up, but I know it’s just for her.
I jump down, press myself to the barricade, let the fans claw at me, but my eyes never leave Sawyer’s. She’s snapping photos, lips parted, cheeks flushed, every inch of her shining for me.
The lights strobe, the crowd is screaming, and my pulse is pure adrenaline as I prowl the edge of the stage as we hit the chorus, a song that’s never felt as dirty as it does now with her front row. I lean into the mic, and my voice goes low, almost a growl:
“Bet you taste like trouble—
Bet you like it rough.
If you beg for mercy, I’ll never get enough.
Don’t pretend you’re innocent—
You’re just waiting for sin.
Come backstage, baby, let me wreck you again.”
The crowd goes insane, arms in the air, girls screaming like I wrote it for all of them. But my eyes are on her.
She knows.
She flushes, shifting on her toes, lips parting when I lick mine, and I swear, she nearly drops the camera.
I step back from the mic and grin, wild and reckless. For a second, the noise blurs away, and it’s just me and her, electric, daring, and dirty as hell. I rip into the next verse, each word a promise.
“You’re not leaving clean tonight—
No one else gets to see this side of you.
When I say you’re mine,
I mean, you’re fucking mine—
Camera flashes, bare skin, midnight crimes.”
And I hope to God she hears me over the noise—because every word is a threat and a promise. She’s not getting out of here untouched.
SAWYER
My whole body’s vibrating by the time the last song fades, the crowd’s screams pulsing through me like a drug. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I’m not even pretending to hold the camera steady. All I can see is him wild on stage, eyes glued to me, every word a threat he intends to keep.
I try to slip backstage, try to disappear into the chaos, but he finds me before I make it ten steps.
His hand closes around my wrist, leaving no room for questions—hauling me out of sight, behind a wall of black crates.
I barely have time to gasp before he’s there, crowding me against the metal, body heat drowning out everything else.
He’s still vibrating with adrenaline, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes dark and fucking dangerous.
“You really think you can look at me like that, all set and walk away, Little Sin?” His voice threaded with menace.
“You looked real fucking comfortable between me and Riot earlier. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you blushed.
How you stopped breathing the second we both touched you. ”
He leans in, mouth brushing my ear. “You can play all the games you want, Sawyer—but I’m not in the mood to share. Not with him. You’re mine. And I’m gonna remind you exactly what that means.”
My heart skips. Not with him.
The words echo, hit harder than I expect—because part of me liked being between them earlier. The rush, the attention, the hands that didn’t belong to just one man. I didn’t pretend to pull away. And he saw it.
Shit.
I should say something. Should fight the flush creeping up my neck. But I can’t. I’m not sorry. I don’t want to be.
His hand slides up my side, curling around the back of my neck.
“You liked my lyrics? That song was for you. Every dirty word. Every fucking promise.” He leans in, mouth ghosting over my ear, voice dropping to a filthy whisper.
“I meant it, Sawyer. I’m gonna make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.
Gonna make sure you scream for me—let everyone on this tour know exactly who owns you. ”
I shudder, nails digging into his arms, desperate and so fucking gone.
He smirks wickedly, wicked, the dark satisfaction of a man who knows he’s in complete control. “Did you drip for me out there, Little Demon? Soaking those little panties while I talked about fucking you in front of everyone?”
I’m already unraveling. His words hit like gasoline on open flame, and I swear my knees would buckle if he wasn’t pinning me to the crates.
He doesn’t just touch me—he claims me. Marks me with every word. And God help me…
I want it. All of it.
“Yeah, you did. Good girl.” He drags his thumb along my jaw, tilting my head so I can’t look anywhere but him.
“You want to play games, tease me in front of all those people? That’s fine.
Just remember, you started this. And tonight, you’re not getting out of here without my handprints on your ass and my cum running down your thighs. ”
Someone shouts his name—distant, urgent. He ignores it, brushing his mouth over mine in a kiss that’s all teeth and hunger, then pulls back just enough for his breath to brush my lips.
“You wait for me,” he orders. “Don’t even think about touching yourself, Sawyer. That’s mine, too. When I’m done with you, you won’t remember your own name, only mine.”
He finally tears himself away, eyes promising everything filthy, everything I never knew I needed. I’m left shaking, panting, wet, and ruined before he even touches me like he wants.
And God, I can’t wait.
RIOT
Sometimes, I think Jasper was made for the stage, and the spotlight was born for him—like the universe cracked open just to let that bastard set fire to everything he touches.
Tonight, he’s feral. Spitting lyrics that shouldn’t be legal, every verse filthier than the last, and all of it aimed at one person.
Sawyer.
And she fucking knows it, too. The way she watches him, lips parted, eyes wide and hungry, like she’s getting off on every promise he makes with the mic gripped in his fist. I watch her from behind some stacked equipment—catch the flush crawling up her neck, the way her knees press together.
I want to grin, but all I feel is a sharp, ugly ache in my chest.
It’s a dare. Every word. And she answers with a look that says, ’Come get me, if you think you can’. If it were anyone else, I’d call it a show. But with them, it’s war.
When the set ends, Jasper vanishes behind the stage. Sawyer slips after him, camera in hand, but her focus is already shattered. I know what’s about to happen. I tell the guys that I’ll be a minute, slip into the shadows, and watch the alley lights spill over them.
I hear everything.
Jasper’s voice promising her she won’t leave clean tonight. Telling her she’s his. Filthy, unfiltered—half threat, half worship. I hear Sawyer’s breath catch. She wants him to ruin her, and fuck, if I don’t want to be the next one in line.
I should leave. Instead, I watch Jasper crowd her up against the crates, mouth rough and desperate, hands everywhere like he’s trying to memorize the shape of her body by force. Sawyer melts for him, but she’s wild too—biting back, clawing, like she’ll never get enough.
And the whole time, all I can think of is, ‘Goddamn, you should’ve let me play, too.’
I watch Jasper disappear, and I’m left in the dark, cursing under my breath.
My dick’s already hard—just from listening to the way he talked to her, the way she sounded falling apart for him.
It’s sick, maybe, but I can’t help it. With every dirty promise he made, I pictured myself in his place. Wrecking her. Ruining her.
Sawyer’s still pressed against the crates, breathing fast, skin flushed, lips swollen. She’s a fucking mess, and all I want to do is make it worse.
I step out of the shadows, a little breathless myself. “You okay, Hellcat?” My voice is softer than usual, but there’s a hunger I can’t hide. “He wreck you…or just get you started?”
She laughs, a raw, breathless sound. “Maybe both. I don’t know if I’m coming or going right now.”
I can’t help but smile, but there’s an ache underneath it. “I love seeing you like this—messy, wild, all undone. You don’t have to put yourself back together, not for me… I won’t lie to you, I was listening. Watching you and Jasper. Thinking about how it’d feel to make you beg for me instead.”
I reach out, brushing my knuckles along her cheek, then letting my thumb drag lightly over her bottom lip.
“You know, if you ever need more, I can be gentle. Or I can be rough as hell. Whatever you want, Angel. I’ll ruin you sweetly…
make you beg…or let you take me apart. All you’ve gotta do is say the word. ”
She shivers, eyes locked on my mouth. “You talk a big game, Riot.”
I let my hand slip down, fingers tracing her jaw, then feathering across her throat, just barely touching. “No game, Sawyer. Not with you. I want to touch you until you forget anyone else’s name. Want to hear you fall apart for me—soft or filthy, I’m not picky.”
Her breath catches, and for a second, we’re both just there—caught in the space between wanting and acting. She leans in, lips brushing my ear.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that. Maybe—I want both.”
I groan, head falling against her shoulder, fighting the urge to pull her in and devour her right here. Instead, I press a kiss to her neck, lips trailing up to her jaw, before I back away—slow, like I’m promising her something for later.
“You ever need someone to make you feel everything at once, you come find me, Hellcat. I’ll give you sweet and filthy all night long. Just ask.”
She watches me, pupils blown, lips parted, and I know this isn’t over. Not even close.