Chapter 43 – Lumen
Chapter Forty-Three
Lumen
The venue in Roanoke is bigger than I was expecting.
It has to double as some type of sports complex, but it’s really nice.
It’s equally as dark as the recent outdoor shows, and the aerial performers are here tonight.
It’ll be their last night with the tour, from what I understand, and I get why Mal is so bummed about it.
They’re so talented.
I’d love to know what one of their normal shows looks like.
I might have to ask the guys to take me to one.
The walkways near the seats are lit with LED lights to allow concertgoers to safely visit the restrooms, merch shop, or concession stands while the rest of the stadium, or whatever it’s called, is dark.
I sat through Tangled Desires’ final set on the tour, and it wasn’t painful. I might try to find Remmy after the show to say goodbye. Out of the band, I was the closest with him, but I also feel like it might make more sense to just make a clean break.
Liminal’s song comes to an end, and I’m happy to see everyone has stayed in their seats—at least so far.
Wren and I are three rows back from the front with Kasey and another bodyguard named John framing us.
“We haven’t done this one for a while,” Kincaid purrs into his microphone. “You’re in for a real treat.”
The fans scream and whistle.
I’m equally excited to see which song they’re about to play.
It’s rare that they don’t name it, but I know within thirty seconds that it’s “Bloody Rivals.” It wouldn’t have taken that long if the audience wasn’t losing their minds.
It really is an oldie but a goodie.
Kincaid has an unbelievable range, and at first, he’s just serenading the audience. They sound slightly different in their neon masks, since they don’t have the normal cutouts, but the audience doesn’t seem to mind.
Also, unless someone has been to a ton of concerts, I doubt it would be noticeable.
The song goes from Kincaid’s low, raspy tones to Malcolm shredding the hell out of his guitar.
It’s shocking, and it’s meant to be.
Riser and Tennyson finally join in.
Parish comes in a few seconds later, and Malcolm and Kincaid harmonize their voices.
I find myself sitting forward in my seat. It’s tempting to stand, but I don’t want to be that inconsiderate asshole who blocks other people’s views.
Goose bumps pebble on my skin as Kincaid finishes out the verse, sliding his tattooed hand down the mic stand. Malcolm strums away as Kincaid gets his guitar in place and switches to singing and playing.
The song picks up, and Riser gets the spotlight. Two of the aerial performers spiral toward the ground on their silks as he picks up speed.
Sweat lines my hairline, a particularly annoying bead sliding down my spine.
Damn.
I was comfortable three minutes ago.
There’s just something about watching them play that makes my soul sizzle. Then again, I’m pretty sure every woman in the audience feels the same way.
Wren grabs my forearm, leaning over the bar that separates our seats. “Damn, girl. Did you stop taking your suppressants?”
I finally pull my eyes off the stage, turning toward her. I have to get close to her ear, otherwise she’ll never be able to hear me.
“What?” I ask. “I’m a beta.”
She wraps her hand around my jaw, tilting my face until she’s sure that I’ll be able to hear her. “Seriously? Jesus. Sorry. I guess my nose is malfunctioning.”
I laugh it off and focus back on the show, but it kinda sucks being reminded that I’ll never be one of those coveted omegas.
Hanging around the greenroom is always strange when the guys aren’t around.
Wren sits on the floor in the same position Tennyson was in before the show. She cuts up lines like she’s a pro, but I’m not about to judge.
While we haven’t become best friends or anything, we do spend a lot of time casually chatting. She had it really rough growing up. She also lost her mom as a teenager, and her dads’ pack fell apart.
One of them left the state.
One died.
One is in prison.
She was left with her older brothers, and all of them did what they had to do to survive.
I don’t even have that much trauma, and I get high any time I can to avoid having to think about all that bullshit.
“You wanna do one?” she asks, nodding to the tray covered in coke.
“Yeah, thanks.” I nod, cross the room, kneel down on the other side of the coffee table, and do the line on the edge. It burns and tastes terrible, but the numbness kicks in pretty quickly, which makes the residue more tolerable.
I haven’t talked to her since Parish and Tennyson had it out in the parking lot following the club performance.
“How are things with you and Parish?” I ask, sitting back on my feet.
“God, he’s so hot,” she says, popping up after doing her own line. She rubs her nose and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Really generous.” She shrugs. “He’s fun to be around. The opposite of Ten.”
I nod, but honestly, I think the only person he’s a dick to is her. At the same time, I see him watching her often. The looks he sends her way when she’s not paying attention to him don’t seem to indicate that he’s just keeping tabs on a friend’s little sister.
Maybe I’m totally off base.
It’s hard to tell.
He really is an asshole to her at times.
“I won’t be here for long,” she says when I don’t contribute to the conversation. “It would be stupid to get attached.”
I had a similar sentiment not too long ago. I’m sure it is complicated, especially since Tennyson didn’t seem pleased that she and Parish are hooking up.
Either way, he didn’t seem to be holding a grudge when I saw him with Parish earlier today.
The door opens, and Malcolm, Parish, and Tennyson come in.
Mal is shirtless, and I’m greedy for all that skin on display.
The wings and cross tattoo on his lower stomach and pelvis is showing a lot more with how low his jeans hang on his slender hips.
It’s even sexier knowing the bottom part of the cross goes right down to the base of his cock.
It’s also adorned with the small ball from his dermal piercing.
Tennyson drops onto the floor next to Wren and tosses his arm around her shoulder. “Doing my drugs again, Wrenley?” He chuckles, leans forward, and does a line while pulling her with him.
“It was mine first,” she says, smiling brightly. “You were the one who forced me to sell it to you, preventing me from even making some extra cash off the suckers at the club.”
I almost laugh.
They are so confusing.
“K and Riser should be done soon. They were talking to Benji.” Mal comes over, squatting at my side. “Which one was yours?” He nods at the straws.
I grab it, hand it over, and he does a line. We still haven’t had actual sex, but I guess if we can mess around without condoms, it makes sense he wouldn’t freak out about my nose funk.
Mal turns to me, wrapping his hand around my neck from behind. His fingers dig in gently, telling me to tilt my face toward him.
I smile, and I’m about to ask him how the show was, but I don’t get the chance. He cups my jaw and pushes his mouth to mine.
He smells damn good, and his stubble rakes over my cheek as he kisses me. He’s playful and enthusiastic, but it leaves me wondering where we can disappear to for some alone time.
Mal pulls back from the kiss, stands, and scoops me up, wrapping me around his front.
“Ahh, yes,” Tennyson says, laughing. “I’ve been wondering how long it would take for Mal to show off his bare ass.”
Malcolm lowers me onto the couch, keeping his mouth sealed to mine, but he pulls his hand off my ass to flip off Ten.
His knee lands right below my pussy, but he plants the other on the side near the cushions.
Wow.
Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve had sex with any of them in an actual bed. I mean, I’ve fooled around with Mal and Riser in one, but they’re really into hooking up in random places.
Okay.
The shower with Riser was probably on me.
I’m acutely aware that Parish, Wren, and Tennyson are all three feet away.
Mal teases the backs of his fingers up my thigh, and that helps to distract me, as does the way he devours my mouth. He’s sweaty from the show, and his electric scent makes me floaty.
I have no idea why or how smelling him affects me so deeply, but I’m not complaining.
Mal’s fingers tease over the front of my panties, and he yanks them aside, brushing down my labia.
I moan against his lips, and he breaks from the kiss.
“You guys should probably get the fuck out unless you’re planning to watch.” He doesn’t wait for a response, simply shoves his tongue into my mouth once more.
“Oh yeah, sure. No problem,” Tennyson says, laughing. “We’ll just head to the meet and greet and pretend like it’s not strange you’re missing.”
“Come on,” Parish says. “Let me help you up, Wren.”
There’s noise that indicates they get up to leave, including the door opening and closing, but I’m too consumed with kissing Mal to check.
He pulls his hand from my panties, bringing it to his mouth. He licks his thumb and gets back to work, teasing my clit.
It’s hard to keep up as he switches between frantic kisses and a slow swirling of his tongue around mine.
It doesn’t take long until my clit aches and my nipples tighten.
“Damn, baby doll. You smell so sweet,” Malcolm murmurs against my lips. “I want inside you with a vengeance, but I also don’t want to rush things. My dick, however, is busy trying to bust a hole through my jeans.”
He pecks a kiss on my lips and pulls back.
I miss his warmth against my chest, but I’m more bereft at the loss of his hand on my pussy as my panties snap back into place.
“I love it when you eye-fuck me like that. Don’t worry about objectifying me, I like it,” he says, grinning shamelessly.
If I was doing that, I had no idea.
He slides his tattooed hand down his stomach and cups his cock. My core clenches, feeling empty and needy.
He really shouldn’t play with me right now. I’m convinced that I could pin him to the cushions if it came down to it.