Oli
PACK EM UP GOSSIP COLUMN
WILL OLI HART AND THE EDGE BE BONDING?
June 6th
T he last chord vibrates through the packed arena, my voice soaring over it, hitting that final high note through the speakers and not from me. The crowd goes wild, a sea of pulsating energy that echoes back to us on stage. I throw a wink at Chase, who’s hammering away on his drums like he’s born for this moment. Jack’s fingers dance over his guitar, and even Dax loses himself in the rhythm, his bass thumping with my heartbeat.
“Thank you, and goodnight!” Jack shouts.
I blow a kiss to the audience that screams louder, if possible. Sweat trickles down my spine as I strut off stage, the adrenaline still coursing through me. The high from performing never gets old. It’s like a shot of pure sunshine straight into my veins, even when I’m just lip-syncing.
But then, there’s Aiden—quiet Aiden—who’s suddenly anything but shy. As we step into the wings, away from the blinding lights, he’s right there, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. His body is a hard line against mine, and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves.
“Well, hello to you too,” I quip, trying to glance back at him. My attempt to keep things light doesn’t seem to reach him, though. There’s an aggression in his hold, something dark and uncharacteristic of the man who usually hangs back, letting the rest of us soak up the limelight.
“Omega,” he growls low in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine—not entirely unpleasant, but unexpected. His familiar scent is different tonight, sharper. The chocolate is overpowering, pulling me to him.
“Hey, Aiden,” I start, turning to face him, “what’s got into you?” But the question dies on my lips when I see the fierce intensity burning in his soft brown eyes. They’re usually calm, like sheltered harbors, but now they’re raging storms, and I’m the ship caught in their pull.
“Need you,” he murmurs, and it’s not sweet or gentle. It’s primal. His hands tighten, fingers pressing into my flesh, claiming, owning. And damn, part of me has to respond to that call, every omega instinct rising to meet his alpha assertion.
“Okay, okay, let’s take a breath here,” I try, putting my hands on his chest and feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms. But it’s like he doesn’t even hear me, too wrapped up in whatever is going through his head—or, more likely, his body.
“Backstage isn’t exactly private, you know,” I tease, attempting to inject some humor to defuse the situation. But Aiden’s not laughing, and neither are my traitorous hormones that seem all too happy to tango with his.
“Mine,” he states, a possessive edge sharpening the word, and I’m momentarily lost in the heat of him.
Saint’s voice cuts across the post-show chaos. “Guys, over here! Need a quick debrief.” Jack rakes a hand through his tousled white-blond hair, grinning like he owns the stage even after the music has died down. Chase winks at me, not noticing Aiden’s state, before pivoting on his heel, and Dax follows with that perpetual scowl that somehow looks appealing on him.
“Come on,” I say, pulling against Aiden’s grip, but he doesn’t budge, an immovable force glued to my back. His breath is hot and erratic against the nape of my neck.
“, Aiden, you coming?” Jack calls over, eyebrow arched in question.
I flash a smile. “Aiden needs a minute with me. All good, we’re safe.”
Jack nods, though his eyes are narrow in concern, and a silent communication passes between him and Chase before they turn away. Aiden, still silent, presses closer, if possible, and the intensity of him envelops me like a shadow. This isn’t just post-performance adrenaline—it’s something far more carnal.
“Hey, talk to me,” I whisper, turning within the circle of his arms to face him again. The corridors backstage are dimly lit, casting deep shadows that seem to mirror the darkness flickering across Aiden’s usually tender brown eyes.
“Can’t… control it,” he growls, the words strained, as if pulled from the depths of his gut.
My heart hammers against my ribs, a staccato echo of the fear and excitement coursing through my veins. Rut. It’s the only explanation for the feral look in his eyes, the barely restrained power in his frame. Triggered by the past few days? The roar of the crowd? Or maybe just the proximity to his omega.
“Okay, we need to get you somewhere private, Aiden.” My voice comes out steady despite the quiver in my belly. But he’s not listening, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that speaks of raw, untamed need.
“Mine,” he repeats, the word a dark promise that sends shivers down my spine. Every cell in my body screams to submit, to be claimed right here, right now, by this alpha whose scent wraps around me, intoxicating and potent.
“Let’s find some—”
But he cuts me off with a searing kiss, desperation lacing his touch as his fingers dig into my hips. It’s all heat, teeth, and unspoken pleas, and I can’t help but melt into him, my desire flaring to life.
“Need you now,” Aiden rasps against my lips, and there’s no room for argument in his tone. The urgency in his grip tells me we won’t make it back to the bus, not like this.
“Then let’s at least find cover,” I manage to gasp out, half-dragging, half-guiding him toward the heavy curtains that line the edge of the backstage area.
“Here,” I whisper desperately, pulling one aside to reveal a hidden alcove shrouded in darkness. It’s not perfect, but it will have to do.
“Yours,” I assure him, and that’s all it takes for him to surge forward, the alpha claiming his territory, his omega, in the darkened recess of the backstage maze.
His large and demanding hands reach my waist, and before I can protest, he lifts me as though I weigh nothing. The world tilts, and my back slams against the cool concrete wall hidden in the shadows backstage. My breath stutters out, a mist of desire and surprise clouding the scant space between us.
“Someone will see,” I whisper, my voice betraying me with its tremble of anticipation rather than concern.
“Let them,” he snarls.
Aiden’s body presses into mine, an unyielding force of nature. His hardness is evident, a testament to his raw need, and it’s all for me. I gasp at the contact, sparks of pleasure igniting along my nerve endings.
Crew members bustle by, oblivious to the tempest brewing in our secluded corner. Or maybe they choose ignorance, accustomed to the turbulent passions that often accompany life on the road with rockstars.
I should be scandalized, push him away, and demand privacy, but the truth is, I don’t want to. The thought of being taken by Aiden, here, now, where every vibration of the bass from the cooling speakers can be felt through our bodies, is exhilarating.
“Fuck the bus,” I breathe out, and it’s all Aiden’s alpha needs to hear.
Urgency thrums through me, an electric current that draws Aiden like a magnet. He’s a tempest, barely contained, and I’m the only anchor holding him steady.
We are behind the heavy stage curtains, shrouded in shadows, where the world narrows down to just us. It’s darker here, intimate in a way that sends a thrill up my spine. The thick fabric cocoons us, creating a veil between the bustling activity of the crew and the raw intensity that crackles in the air around us.
His hands are on me, rough and demanding. There’s no finesse as he grabs the thin material of my panties, and with one sharp tug, they’re gone—shredded remnants of lace and satin fall forgotten to the ground. The destruction is swift, a testament to the fierce need that’s overcome him.
Aiden’s pants are next, his movements jerky, almost violent in their haste. He fumbles for a moment before freeing his cock, and I catch my breath at the sight. He’s impressive, always, but now there’s a wildness to him that makes him seem even larger, harder, more insistent.
The heat between us flares, and it’s not just lust—it’s something primal, an instinctive dance between alpha and omega. We’re locked at this moment, tangled in a melody only we can hear, and nothing else exists beyond the heat of our bodies and the relentless drumming of desire as he pushes into me roughly and in one thrust.
The world narrows to the point of singularity, the epicenter of my universe now the relentless thrust of Aiden’s hips against mine. No more stage, no more roaring crowd—just the pounding rhythm he sets, hard and wild, a tempo that matches the frantic beat of my heart.
“Omega,” he grunts, each syllable punctuated by the driving force of his body into mine. In the dark backstage corner, I’m pinned between cold concrete and his searing heat, feeling every inch as he fills me completely. My fingers claw at the curtains, desperate for something to anchor me in the storm that is Aiden.
“Please,” I gasp out, my voice lost beneath the cacophony of sounds around us—the distant hum of electrical equipment, the muffled voices of crew members unwittingly nearby. We’re playing a dangerous game, teetering on the edge of discovery, but the risk only fuels the fire that burns within me.
“More,” I beg shamelessly. The word is a breathy moan, which seems to ignite something wilder in him. His pace quickens, each thrust a promise of oblivion, a guarantee of pleasure so intense that worry and reason have no place here.
I’m lost, utterly consumed by the desires of our scent match, the invisible bond that pulls taut with every movement, every connection of flesh to flesh.
“God, Aiden,” I cry out when he hits that perfect spot. Stars explode behind my closed eyelids, and my entire being is focused on the sheer intensity of the sensation. There’s no holding back the keening plea that rises from deep within me: “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.”
He growls low in his throat, a sound that vibrates through me. I know he hears me and understands me, even in this mindless state.
The raw power in Aiden’s grip sends shivers down my spine as he pins me against the wall, his breath hot and erratic against the curve of my neck. His growl rumbles through the dim backstage, a primal declaration that echoes off the concrete.
“Fuck,” he snarls, the words laced with an animalistic desire that burrows deep into my core. “I’m gonna fill you with so much of my come, you won’t know where I end and you begin.” His voice is a dark promise, one that stirs the very marrow of my bones. “I need to knot you, claim you—make you mine over and over until you can’t fucking forget it.”
Something about how he says it, raw and unfiltered, has my heart thundering in my chest. It’s all-consuming, this need, like a wildfire that refuses to be tamed.
“Aiden,” I pant, trying to push against the relentless tide of his arousal. “You can’t knot me, not here, not now.” My protest is feeble, almost an afterthought, lost in the sea of sensation he’s stirring within me.
But he doesn’t waver, doesn’t even blink. He stares straight into my eyes, his gaze burning with an intensity that sears right through me. And then, with an unwavering certainty that leaves no room for doubt, he surges forward, sealing our bodies in the most intimate of embraces.
“Can’t I?” he challenges just before his body locks with mine.
The world narrows down to him, to us, to this moment. Everything else fades away—the distant hum of the crowd, the muted footsteps of crew members beyond the curtain. There’s only the sharp intake of breath as he knots me, and the reality of being wholly, irrevocably claimed.
The sensation is a lightning strike, an electric shockwave that ripples from where Aiden and I are joined and radiates to every extremity. It’s intense, almost too much, but it’s exactly what I crave. My body clasps around the knot that swells, anchoring him deep within me, and pleasure cascades in relentless waves.
“Ah—Aiden!” My voice is high-pitched as the climax overtakes me. I ignore the pain in my throat as my inner muscles flutter and spasm, milking him for all he’s worth. I’m floating, soaring on the high of being so utterly filled and stretched. The world spins, a kaleidoscope of color behind my tightly shut eyelids, and all I can feel, all I can know, is this all-consuming bliss.
“?” The voice cuts through the haze, sounding both startled and laced with concern. It’s Chase.
The curtain whisks back with a rustle that seems disproportionately loud, and there we are, exposed. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene before him: Aiden, feral and possessive, still buried inside me; me, breathless and flushed with a post-orgasmic glow.
“Chase,” I gasp, not quite able to process his sudden appearance. “Aiden is in a rut.”
He bursts out laughing. “Clearly. Damn, this is where he chose to take you? I felt your pleasure through our bond.” His gaze flickers between us, trying to make sense of the scene.
I can’t help it—the laugh bubbles out of me, loud and clear, echoing off the dimly lit backstage walls. It’s absurd, this situation, and yet so fiercely us. Aiden, though, remains singularly focused, aggression pouring off him like heat waves. The wildness in his eyes sends another shiver down my spine.
“Chase,” I say again, still chuckling but with an edge of urgency now. “Mind getting Dax and Jack over here? Aiden’s not exactly himself at the moment.”
With a shake of his head—part exasperation, part amusement—Chase sets off to find the others, his sandy hair catching the stray lights as he disappears around the corner. My heart is still racing, both from the adrenaline of the show and the potent aftermath of Aiden’s fucking.
“Stay with me, Aiden,” I murmur, running a soothing hand through his spiky black hair. His growl vibrates against my skin, a primal sound that thrills me to my core. But even as he holds me captive against the wall, I feel safe, wrapped in the raw strength of his arms.
“,” comes Jack’s incredulous voice moments later, followed by Dax’s low grunt of acknowledgment as they take in the sight before them. They’re each a masterpiece of concern and disbelief, their expressions mirroring the chaos of our unconventional after-show celebration.
I look at them over Aiden’s shoulder, still knotted and unable to move away. “It wasn’t my choice of location!”
Jack smirks, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, while Dax crosses his arms. His own hazel gaze softens despite his gruff exterior.
Jack chuckles as he drapes the blanket over my shoulders, a poorly stifled snort escaping him. “Only you, ,” he says with that playful glint in his blue eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips.
“Shut up, Jack,” I retort, but I can’t help the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. Aiden’s chest rumbles against me, a low warning growl to our packmates that he’s still very much in his rut.
Dax steps forward, all grumpy concern and furrowed brows, forming a human shield with Chase and Jack. They position themselves like sentinels, their broad figures casting shadows that shield us from any accidental audience.
“Good thing we’ve got this place locked down,” Chase mutters, shaking his head, but a twinkle in his green eyes tells me he’s more amused than annoyed.
Aiden’s grip finally loosens as the intensity of the moment wanes, the knot deflating. My breath comes easier now, and I start to wriggle free from the remnants of his powerful hold. With careful movements, I adjust my skirt and reach down to hastily fix Aiden’s pants.
“Okay, big guy,” I whisper, brushing a kiss against his still-flushed cheek. “Let’s take it back to the bus, yeah?”
But as I tease him with a light pat on his behind, it’s clear Aiden’s nowhere near done. His eyes flash with that familiar fiery need, a silent vow that this show is getting an encore.
“Come on then,” I challenge, slipping out from under the blanket with a sly smile. I dart away, knowing full well he’s right on my heels, eager and ready for round two, and I can’t suppress the shiver of anticipation that zips through me as he chases me.
“Come on, alpha!” I shout back over my shoulder, racing through the maze of cables and props scattered backstage.
Aiden’s heavy footsteps pound the floor behind me, each thud sending a thrill up my spine. I weave between roadies and techs, throwing them apologetic smiles, but I don’t dare slow down—not when I can feel Aiden’s presence like a storm about to break.
Strong arms envelop me just as I make it on the bus, and I’m lifted off my feet with a gasp that’s half surprise, half delight. Aiden’s hot breath fans over my neck as he growls possessively, the sound a promise of what’s to come.
“Gotcha,” he murmurs into my hair, and the word sends a jolt right to my core.
“Good catch,” I manage to say, though my voice is breathy and my body is already aching for his touch.
The door to the bus slams shut behind us, the rest of the world forgotten as Aiden pins me to the nearest surface—the couch—his hands and lips claiming territory with a fervor that leaves no doubt of his intentions.
The moment Aiden’s fingers dig into my hips, I know resistance is futile—a shiver of anticipation races through me. His growl resonates deep within his chest, a primal sound that echoes the frenzied beat of my heart. As he spins me around and pins me to the couch, there’s a raw edge to his touch that sends sparks skittering across my skin.
“My omega,” he snarls, and it’s all the warning I get before he slams into me with an intensity that steals my breath away. My back arches off the couch, my fingers clawing at the fabric as he claims me with a ferocity that would scare me if it didn’t feel so damn exhilarating.
“Fuck, Aiden!” The words are torn from my lips, a mix of curse and plea as he sets a punishing rhythm. Every thrust rocks me to my core, the heat of him, the strength of him enveloping me whole. I’m caught in a storm, and the eye of it is the relentless driving force of his cock filling me again and again.
His hands are everywhere, rough and demanding—on my thighs, my waist, my breasts. Each touch brands me, leaving me more his than I was a second before. And I revel in it, in the wildness that consumes us both.
“Mine, ,” he grunts out between thrusts. “Say you’re mine.”
“Yours,” I cry out, not just in answer to his command but because it’s the truth etched into every cell of my being. “Always yours.”
When he knots me, it’s like being hit by lightning—everything else fades away until there’s nothing but the searing pleasure of his cock locked inside me.
“God, yes,” I gasp, riding out the aftershocks, feeling every tremor that ripples through Aiden’s body and echoes in mine.