33. Lily
33
LILY
Seven weeks later
“ T his is too much,” I protest as Nadia rips the sheet from the mirror on my dresser.
“It’s perfect, Anna. Don’t be a wimp.”
“Just look.” Bebe holds the mirror to the back of my head to show me the little braids Nadia placed throughout my hairdo.
With my hair lightly curled around my face, my best friend blow-dried the long locks in a way that hides the couple of bald spots Alex caused. They’re going to take time to grow back in, so I’ve been forgoing my usual hairstyle—bun on top of my head—to leave my hair down.
“I look like metal Barbie.”
Bebe’s voice is tight when she tells me, “You look like a walking wet dream.”
I lightly trace the diamond pattern in the fishnets Nadia talked me into wearing under my leather skirt. My over the knee boots hide most of my legs. The loose see-through shirt with the zipper up the middle that I’m wearing over my best push- up bra adds to the illusion that I’m uncovered, but the inches of thigh between my footwear and skirt hem are all the skin that’s exposed.
“He’s going to die when he sees you,” Nadia pronounces when I can’t find the right words to respond to Bebe. My best friend bounces on the bed and squeals. She claps her hands. “I can’t believe Isaiah got us backstage passes to Apologies to Medusa, In This Moment, Distorted Union, and Motionless in White. I’m going to pass out if Maria Brink acknowledges my existence.”
“No one told me we have backstage passes.” Bebe turns white at the thought.
She tugs the cobalt crop top she’s wearing lower until it meets the waistband of her tight jeans. Noticing how her fussing has made her bra visible, I pull her shoulder pleats back into place. Bebe wraps her arms around her exposed midsection and frowns at me.
“You look gorgeous.”
“I don’t normally wear things like this,” she stammers.
“Well, duh ,” Nadia tells Bebe with a grin. She drops her gaze to the YSL heels on Bebe’s feet and shivers with obvious lust. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in anything other than scrubs or a ten-thousand-dollar outfit. It’s nice to see you dressed like a normal person.”
“I feel like a biker slut.” Slash’s almost, kind of, sorta, girlfriend claps her hand over her mouth and whines, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Waving away her apology, I confess softly, “I kinda feel the same. This isn’t me anymore. I should change.”
My hand habitually trails up to my neck to touch the necklace I always wear. My best friend glares at it, unhappy that she couldn’t get me to take it off for the night.
“Don’t you dare.” Nadia blocks the entrance to my walk-in wardrobe.
The closet is small. Bursting at the seams with all my clothes. My shoe collection lines one wall, two rows deep on the little shelves Slash brought me to keep them off the floor. My handbags are haphazardly arranged in the tall boy he dragged out of his room when he noticed I had left them in their boxes.
When Zeke had Wyatt and Nate drop my things off at Slash’s, I had promised him that it was only temporary until I could find my own place. Sander, Cub, and Fret live together in a three-bedroom townhouse that’s three doors down from where I once lived with Zeke. Nadia has moved back in with her parents after Bear broke the lease on their rental and left her with a mountain of debt. My younger brothers live with my father and Charlie, and since I’m not talking to my dad, that option is off the cards.
I’m looking for a small apartment to buy with the money my mum left me. Unfortunately, prices are crazy, and buildings with the kind of security Slash approves of are in short supply.
Hence my current predicament.
I live with my ex-fiancé’s best friend.
Sure, Slash has six bedrooms in his mini-mansion, and it’s nice to not be alone. He brings popcorn to my bed and holds my hand while we re-watch The Originals . We share the same taste in music and books, and he allows me to boss him around on Sundays so I can continue my mum’s tradition of entering the new week with a clean home and an organised schedule.
Still, I can’t help but feel like I’m cramping his lifestyle.
Especially when Bebe doesn’t seem keen to come over when I’m home.
Hence my decision to invite her to the concert tonight.
With a stacked list of talent on offer, tickets to Apologies to Medusa’s first co-headliner tour sold out within minutes, and even with the Shamrocks connection to the band, getting our hands on a ticket for Bebe would’ve been impossible. It felt like fate when I learnt through Slash that she’s never seen live music before, and Nadia talked Isaiah into coughing up an extra backstage pass to see his older brother Apollo’s band.
I need to suss Bebe out.
Work out why she’s suddenly standoffish with me.
For a few weeks, she was here every day. I thought we’d bonded during my recovery and become new friends. Somewhere it went pear-shaped, and the easiness between us became stilted.
“You’re wearing that!” Nadia shrieks when I try to sidestep her to find something different to change into. “Zeke needs to see what he’s missing.”
My voice cracks when I say, “He’s been in Sydney for nearly two months… I think we both know that the time for getting his attention has well and truly passed me by. Even when he’s back for a few days, he won’t look at me. It’s time to move on, Nads. I need to accept that I’m not getting any answers from him.”
“Answers from whom?” Slash asks as he walks into my room without knocking.
“Slash!” Bebe admonishes him in a squeaky voice. “Anna could’ve still been getting ready. Where are your manners?”
With a shrug, Slash tells her, “I’ve seen her half-naked more times than I can count. She’s basically been a nudist from birth.”
“That’s not true.” I roll my eyes at him. Addressing Bebe directly, I attempt to smooth things over. “There isn’t a lot of privacy at the clubhouse. Everyone’s seen everyone’s bits at least once. Knocking kinda becomes redundant after a while.”
“ Oh , my God… do you remember the time Sander locked Cub naked outside for a bet.” Nadia holds her hands a foot apart. “Let’s just say it was nice to discover that he’s lanky all over. Especially when most tall men are a disappointment down there.”
“Are you saying I’m out of proportion?” Slash asks my best friend in mock horror.
“You’re hung, but Cub beats you by an inch or two. Easily.”
Oblivious to the fiery rage flickering dangerously in Bebe’s green gaze, he plops down on my bed next to her and slings his arm around her slight shoulders. “Nads is short-sighted… as you’re well aware.”
“That’s beside the point,” Bebe informs him with a haughty sniff. She holds her head high, chin out. “I don’t want the man I’m seeing to look at other women while they’re naked.”
Something akin to frustration dims Slash’s smile. “If we were seein’ each other, I’d be on board with that. Considerin’ you haven’t let your boss down yet and your daddy still doesn’t know about us, two months into whatever this is, I’d say we’re fuck buddies at best… and we both know that comes with no strings attached.”
As the tension ramps up, I give up on the idea of changing. I swipe the smallest handbag from the options my best friend laid out for me to choose from and sling the chain strap across my body. I hit Nadia with a silent look that pleads with her to hurry up putting the finishing touches to her look so we can get out of here before we play witness to Slash and Bebe’s latest argument.
Nadia applies some tinted lip gloss and spritzes my perfume in front of her. After walking into the cloud, she claps her hands. “Right. I’m ready. Anna’s dressed to kill. The two fuck buddies are ready to hate fuck… I think we’re good to go.”
When Bebe scowls at the floor and Slash stomps toward the door next to her, Nadia drags me behind her to the garage. While Slash messes around with the sound system of his Range Rover, my best friend slides into the back seat, and I move to get in after her. Bebe’s small hands grab my forearm to stop me.
“You can take the front,” she tells me.
“ Ah, no. That’s your seat.”
Shaking her head too fast, she blurts out, “No. No. You take it. It’ll be better for your… ribs.”
My ribs are fine. Completely healed. Have been for weeks. Bebe is aware of this since she gave me the clean bill of health herself.
All my external injuries have mended, and my head is on its way back to some semblance of sanity—as long as I don’t see Zeke too often, that is. Thankfully, he’s been spending most of his time with the Sydney chapter, so I’ve only laid eyes on him twice in the past seven weeks.
And that was two times too many, to be honest.
My recovery had taken longer than expected, and I’d needed a D&C to stop the bleeding from the miscarriage when I’d entered the third week without a reprieve. Bebe did me a solid back then by holding my hand through a process I never thought I’d need, even sticking around to help me choose the best contraception. Because of that history, I concede to her request, even though I know it’s going to hurt Slash’s feelings.
“It’s gonna be like that, is it?” Slash mutters when I climb into the front passenger seat.
“I tried to say no.”
Behind us, Bebe slams her door and fastens her seat belt with angry movements.
The tension remains as we drive into the city. When Slash pulls into the side entrance to the stadium that Isaiah said he’d meet us at, I scramble out of the Range Rover to escape the friction between them so fast my heels slip. A big hand steadies me, and I find myself with my palm splayed against Zeke’s chest.
Gazes locked together, we stare at each other without speaking.
After Nadia slides out of his vehicle, Slash speeds off before Bebe can exit the Rover. My best friend shakes her head and laughs. “They’re either gonna fuck this out or fight all the way through the concert… I’m going to text Slash to warn him that if he ruins this for me, I’ll add Nair to his fancy shampoo.”
I don’t answer her.
I can’t.
“ Oh , you’re here,” Nadia says with distaste when she sees Zeke. “I didn’t think we’d have to look at your putrid face until the after party.”
“It’s nice to see you too, Nads,” Zeke tells her with an unapologetic shrug. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Apollo hooked me up with another pass when he found out mine had been mysteriously given to someone else.”
His rough voice as he makes it clear he knows what Isaiah did makes me shiver. When Zeke’s fingers flex around my arm, I realise that he noticed my reaction to him. It’s enough to rip me out of my shock. I knock his hand away and link fingers with Nadia. She drags me over to Isaiah and his older brother.
The rock star.
Apollo Abaddon is a little intimidating. While I know Isaiah well, having grown up with him, Lo has been based in the US since he was twelve. I wasn’t even eight when he left Australia after earning a position at an ultra-exclusive music school near New York. He’s lived with his uncle at the Philadelphia chapter of the Black Shamrocks MC for most of the year ever since.
“Cherub. Lookin’ beautiful as ever.” Apollo greets me in his deep voice. When he scrapes his fingers through his jet-black hair, his black eyes twinkle with malice under the single bulb that sits over the side door. The mahogany tone to his skin only adds to the darkness he exudes as he continues. “I heard what happened to you. If I wasn’t positive Venom had already handled the son of a bitch, I’d offer to kill the bastard myself.”
Isaiah clears his throat and slants a side look my way. Nadia makes a disgruntled noise in her throat. Understanding Isaiah’s unspoken warning, I nudge her with my hip to tell her to keep her mouth shut. It’s obvious that the US chapters have been kept out of the loop regarding the Australian mother chapter’s drama, so the last thing I need is for my best friend to accidentally put her foot in it.
Secrets are hard to keep.
If the Australian Shamrocks, including Gabriel as the brother of the president of the Philadelphia mother chapter, have managed to hide my dad’s dodgy behaviour for this long, then there’s a reason for it. I will not be the one who ruins whatever strategy they have in action to beat my father at his own game.
“I appreciate that.” Head held high, I give Apollo the most genuine smile I can manage in the face of all the bad memories his kind words have set free in my head. “Looks like things have been going well for you?”
A shadow crosses his perfectly symmetrical face for a second. “Things have been… different. Especially with Seraphina gone.” Whatever frustration he’s feeling over his breakup with my good friend disappears when he spots Zeke. They exchange half hugs, complete with their convoluted handshake and a backslap. Apollo looks between me and Zeke when my ex-fiancé steps back next to me and nods. “It’s nice to see my favourite couple is still goin’ strong. When you’re surrounded by all the superficial bullshit that goes on in my world, knowin’ real love still exists stops me turnin’ into a complete cynic.”
I stiffen when Zeke’s hand slides along the small of my back, and his arm settles around me like it never left. “You’re too kind. We’re just an ordinary?—”
“No,” Apollo cuts off my protests. “I call it how I see it. You two are meant for each other.”
Thankfully, a man with a clipboard and a headset taps Apollo on the shoulder before I can blurt out the truth that’s burning the tip of my tongue. They put their heads together and converse in voices too low for the rest of us to hear. Nadia edges closer to sneak a peek at the list the assistant is holding, and Isaiah follows to keep her out of trouble.
“I’m sorry about this,” Zeke murmurs when it’s just the two of us.
“Well, that’s a first,” I remark in a snippy tone. “The great Venom is sorry for something.” With a huff, I side-eye him as I say, “You could’ve warned me… oh, sorry… that’s right. You’d have to talk to me to do that.”
“Lily—”
“Don’t Lily me, Venom ,” I chastise him a little too loud. “Pretty sure you made it clear that I was Lilianna the last time we spoke.”
Apollo’s concerned gaze flicks our way. I smile at him, then lean into Zeke until he returns to his conversation. Before I can really lose control of my tongue, Slash joins us. He’s alone. The pain that’s etched into his face—both from the past and now—makes my heart hurt.
“What happened?”
He shrugs. “She’s taking an Uber home.”
“I’m sorry.” I slip my hand into his. He squeezes my fingers. “Maybe I should move out? I think she has a problem with me.”
“It’s not you. It’s her. She wants me on her terms—as in I’m good enough to fuck, but not good enough to introduce to her family. Pretty sure she’s still screwin’ her boss, too, even though she denies it. I’m not goin’ down this road again… told her to leave me alone until she’s worked out what she wants.”
“ Oh .” Slash’s past is rough. He’s been the dirty little secret before, and it didn’t end well. In fact, it almost killed him. Having been burnt in the past, there’s no way he’ll put up with Bebe’s behaviour for long. “If you need a shoulder… you know where to find me. God knows I owe you.”
“Are you promising me Netflix ’n chill?” he quips.
“Just the Netflix,” I retort with a laugh. “We both know you have no chill.”
“Ouch, that hurt,” Slash jokes, clutching at his heart with his free hand. “A man can live in hope.”
His jest doesn’t sound authentic, but I pretend not to notice.
If Slash wants to hide from his feelings, who am I to tell him differently?
I’m the poster queen for emotional avoidance.
Would literally prefer to make myself bleed than face my trauma.
When Lo’s assistant leaves, he comes over to greet Slash. They speak for a few minutes, then Apollo excuses himself. Isaiah follows his brother after reluctantly allowing Nadia to join him. She had to promise to be on her best behaviour when he introduces her to the members of Apologies to Medusa and the accompanying acts. The young prospect doesn’t know what he’s got himself in for. Nadia has been in love with the lead singer of In This Moment since she was thirteen, and unlike me, she’s incapable of hiding her emotions.
I’m left alone with Zeke and Slash.
Great.
As far as I know, the two men haven’t spoken a word to each other since the day Zeke beat the crap out of our best friend. No one will tell me what it was over. However, I’m not dumb enough not to think it was over me. Slash has always been fiercely protective. Not just of me. Of every single person he lets close. Having been on the receiving end of Zeke’s newfound indifference, I figure Slash tried to talk to him about the situation, and my ex-fiancé decided to shut him up with his fists.
“Follow me.” An efficient sounding woman pops her head out the door to tell us. Shaking Zeke’s arm off my waist when I realise that I’m still leaning into him, even though Apollo is gone and the need for pretence is over, I lead the two men inside. The corridors that run below the stadium are packed. Instruments are being rolled toward the stage. A woman runs past, holding an elaborate costume above her head, so the train of the dress doesn’t drag along the floor. Too many people dressed in black to count run around shouting into their earpieces.
I’ve been to Apologies to Medusa’s concerts before, every time they come to Australia and twice in the US, but this is next level.
Despite Apollo trying to downplay it, Isaiah wasn’t kidding.
The band really has arrived in the big time.
“Holy moly. This is hectic.”
“Organised chaos,” Slash agrees.
Zeke says nothing.
We are shown into a private booth that looks directly onto the stage. I take a seat. Propping my elbows on the railing, I lean over it. Below us, the mosh pit is filling up. The seated sections are almost full. It looks like every second person is wearing an Athena mask, Medusa wig, or Apologies to Medusa merchandise.
Even the men.
Every so often, the speakers crackle for sound check.
“It’s like we have a storm cloud hangin’ over our head,” Slash comments as he takes the seat next to mine.
“ Huh ?”
He jerks his head toward Zeke. “Mr. Personality over there. How much do you wanna bet he doesn’t say a word to either of us tonight?”
“No deal,” I tell him. “He spoke to me earlier. We had to pretend to still be together for Apollo… apparently, Gabriel is keeping him out of the loop.”
“Fuckin’ hell, you could knock me over with a feather… I was sure his vocal cords had withered from lack of use.”
“Apparently not.”
Slash balances an overfull plate of hors d’oeuvres on his knee to pass me a champagne flute. “I’m not surprised Apollo didn’t know about this whole—” He stops to stuff a mini quiche into his mouth. After swallowing, he continues. “—Bloody mess. The old-timers have been keepin’ things pretty low key since Venom bashed Brutus’ face in at the wake.”
This is the first time I’m hearing about a fight between my father and Zeke.
I quaff the bubbly liquid in one go. “Good. I might be pissed at him, I might want to bash his face in, but I hope he broke every bone in Dad’s traitorous body.”
“Not quite,” Zeke interjects. I peer over my shoulder to find that he’s standing behind me. He takes my empty glass and hands me a refill. “Can promise it wasn’t for lack of fuckin’ trying, but.”
Slash stares at Zeke, animosity in his gaze that’s at odds with the nonchalant way he chomps loudly on some kind of canapé. The two men regard each other, neither one apparently ready to break the stalemate. I sigh, then drain the champagne Zeke brought over to me. Holding my skirt down, I slide from the tall seat to my feet.
“I can leave the room if you two want to whip ’em out and measure ’em ?”
My ex-fiancé’s head snaps toward me.
I realise what I just did.
Clearing my throat, I act as if I didn’t just resurrect a cherished memory in front of the man who killed it. It doesn’t work. Zeke runs his gaze over me, from my braided hair to the toes of my high-heeled boots. The hunger that he once refused to hide from me invades his cool expression. His gaze heats up. A shiver runs through me as his scrutiny intensifies. When his attention fixes on my mouth, I can’t stop myself from pressing my fingertips to my lips.
Zeke blinks.
As quickly as the moment burst to life, it dies.
I clear my throat. “Please excuse me. I’m going to find Isaiah. He promised to show me the stage before the first act goes on.”
I’m drunk. Drunk enough for my head to feel light and fuzzy. Not drunk enough to blame what I’m doing on the alcohol. The perfect amount of drunk not to care about how I’ll feel tomorrow.
The concert was brilliant.
All four bands brought something different.
Pyrotechnics. Flame throwers. Aerial acrobatics. Anti-slut-shaming anthems.
From our private vantage point, it felt like they were playing just for me.
I danced with Nadia. I danced with Slash. I even danced—badly—with Isaiah, who is as rhythmically challenged as his brother is musically gifted. All the while, Zeke acted as our sentry. He watched the show. Brought me drink after drink. Ate some food when it was brought around. Clapped when everyone else did. Smiled when Apollo appeared, face flushed, high on the atmosphere his music has created. Left me alone to enjoy myself.
All in all, I had fun.
Everything felt easy.
Loose.
Calm.
So, when Apollo mentioned that he had the penthouse booked at a hotel nearby, I didn’t hesitate to climb into the limo he had on standby.
During the short drive, I found myself perched on Zeke’s lap. His palm was hot where he held it against my stomach. My body shuddered when his thumbs brushed along the under-swell of my breasts.
Overheated, I fanned myself and ignored the warning looks Nadia shot my way.
Once we’d surrendered our phones to gain access to the top floor of COMO at The Treasury and the penthouse was filled with musicians, roadies, and a bunch of other strangers determined to party their backsides off until dawn, my best friend dragged me away from Zeke.
I’ve been tucked under his arm since we arrived.
His hand hasn’t left the curve of my waist.
Mine has remained in the back pocket of his jeans.
Just like old times.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hisses once we’re locked in the bathroom together. “You’re supposed to be making him miss you. Talk to you. Not feel you up just ’cause he wants to without so much as an apology.”
“I know,” I cry. Leaning against her, I pout. “But I miss him.”
“ Oh , Anna,” Nadia tells me with a bit of a slur to her words. “That’s normal. What isn’t normal is letting him waltz back from Sydney and lay his hands on you. Don’t let him off scot-free. He needs to explain things—preferably not when you’re drunk. Make him apologise…” She rolls her eyes. “Or buy you some expensive shoes, at least.”
“I like shoes. I love Zeke.”
With gentle hands, Nadia turns me toward the basin. “Wash your face in cold water while I pee. It’ll sober you up.”
The sound of the water doesn’t hide the moan of pleasure that comes from the direction of the toilet as Nadia relieves herself. I splash her with water, and she shrieks. After washing my face and drying it, I make her clean her hands before she can touch me again.
“Half your face is on here.” Nadia shows me the previously pristine white towel.
I smirk. “It’s not like Lo can’t afford the cleaning fee.”
“Damn right he can. Mr. Moneybags.”
We’re giggling as we exit the bathroom.
“Nadia, preziosa .” The man with neon-green hair and cheekbones to die for crooks his index finger at my best friend. I recognise him as Pax Cerulli, the Japanese-Italian bass player from Apollo’s band. “We started a rather interesting conversation back at the stadium that I’d love to continue if you’re willing…”
Caught between her loyalty to me and the sexy as hell man who’s blatantly offering her a night in his bed, Nadia freezes. She looks at me. Back to the bass player. Me again. With my shoulders shaking as I suppress my urge to laugh at her deer caught in the headlight’s expression, I push her toward Pax.
“Go. Have fun. I’ll be fine.”
Nadia frowns. “But you’ll sleep with him if I leave you alone.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
“What do you say, preziosa ?” Pax croons. “Are you going to make me the luckiest man here tonight?”
“You’ll go straight back to Slash?” Her eyes grow round when Pax strokes a finger up and down her forearm. “No detours. No more wine. No Zeke.”
“I swear.”
As Pax leads Nadia deeper into the penthouse, I head in the opposite direction. With every intention to keep my promise, I search the main room for Slash. He’s sitting by himself, messing around with his phone. I take a step in his direction, but a blonde woman cuts me off. She perches on the arm of his chair and twirls a lock of his hair around her finger. Although I can see his heart isn’t one hundred percent in it, I decide to leave him to make up his own mind about moving on.
So far, Bebe doesn’t seem to be fighting too hard for him.
He deserves some consolation.
Especially when it comes in a package as beautiful as the woman flirting with him.
When a waiter walks past with a tray of drinks, I snag two glasses of Moscato. It’s a bad idea. I know it is. Still, I toss them back, one straight after the other. The buzz goes directly to my head, and a wave of warmth travels through me.
I grin.
That’s more like it.
Since I can’t find any familiar faces in the milling crowd, I duck out onto the balcony that wraps around the corner of the building. It’s too noisy to think and my head is spinning a little, so I pull the sliding doors shut to give myself some peace. The smell of a cigarette burning makes me screw my nose up. Intent on asking the other person to put it out, I duck around the ornate Roman pillar, only to stop in my tracks.
Zeke.
Gaze fixed on mine, leg bouncing to a beat only he can feel, he stubs his smoke out in the ashtray. The hunger from earlier tonight returns to his eyes. I swallow deep, then wrap my arms around my waist. Slumped low in the padded patio chair, one arm folded behind his head as he braces it on the wall at his back, he looks like a badarse tattooed cover model.
The penthouse is full of beautiful men.
Only Zeke affects me.
I’m in trouble.
“ Metukà shelì .”
“Zeke.”
“Come here.”
I shake my head. “N-no.”
“You know you want to.”
Another head shake. “I can’t.”
Sitting up straighter, he regards me with a steady gaze. “Do you want me to come to you?”
“Yes.” The truth hangs heavy in the dark night. “But you won’t.”
Rather than respond to my claim, Zeke pushes to his feet. The intent in his eyes freezes me in place as he stalks toward me. Step by step. Like a lion advancing on a stunned gazelle, his stride eats the distance between us. He stops once he’s close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his wide frame.
“I came,” Zeke tells me. Curling his body over mine, he brushes the hair from my shoulder. His lips are soft when he places them to my ear and murmurs, “Does that mean you’re mine again, sweet thing?”
“I never stopped being yours.”
Zeke slips his hands into my hair, cupping the nape of my neck and the back of my head, then his mouth is on mine a heartbeat later. I part my lips when he swipes his tongue across the seam. He surges forward, tongue tangling with mine as he consumes me. My hands are nimble as I pull his shirt free of his jeans, my fingertips run back and forth along the skin above his waistband until he groans. Zeke shudders when I slide my hands along his upper body. Stopping once I reach the middle of his chest, I close my eyes and lose myself in our kiss while his heart thunders beneath my palms. When he pulls his mouth from mine, I run my tongue across my bottom lip.
He still tastes the same.
Shaking from head to toe, I trail my hands around his ribs and hug my ex-fiancé tight. My cheek lands on his shoulder, and I rest my full weight against him. For the first time in two months, I allow myself to wilt under the pressure of my broken life.
“Lily—”
I press my finger to his lips to stop him from talking. “Don’t speak. Not tonight.”
With a speed that declares of our familiarity with each other, Zeke sweeps me off my feet and carries me to the table where he was sitting when I stepped outside. The glass tabletop is cold on my backside, but the contradiction between the heat pulsing in my veins and the chill only adds to the desire surging through me. My core throbs. My heart performs backflips in my chest, happy to be back where it belongs.
For the first time since Alex’s final attack, my body floods with lust. My mind is clear of doubt. Every nerve ending calls out for Zeke’s touch.
I want him.
His body on mine.
His hands stroking my skin.
His cock inside me.
“Needa taste you.” Zeke doesn’t wait for my agreement. As if reading my mind, he kneels before me and pushes my thighs apart. “Gonna fuckin’ devour you.”
Strong hands tear my fishnets where they cover my core. My panties follow a second later when they’re twisted into a knot and ripped from my body with one harsh tug. Zeke’s fingertips dig into the soft flesh at the junction of my thighs as he holds them open, exposing me to his greedy gaze before he leans forward and swipes my clit with his tongue.
“Fucking missed this pussy. Missed your big heart even more.”
I open my mouth to tell him that I missed him too.
The words die when he distracts me from my confession by pushing two fingers inside me. Head thrown back, a throaty moan tumbles from my mouth when he brushes the magic spot on my front wall with his fingertips. With manic precision, Zeke works me over with his hand. Pumping. Thrusting. Destroying me. He flattens his tongue against my clit and lavishes the sensitive nub with attention until my hips are bucking and I’m holding his head in place with both hands.
My thighs clamp around his ears when he brings me to the edge.
In one smooth motion, Zeke presses a third finger inside me and stands. His wide body covers mine as he captures my mouth. I can taste myself on him when he thrusts his tongue between my lips in the same rhythm he uses to fuck me with his fingers. With his thumb on my clit and his hand pumping tirelessly, Zeke swallows my cries as I come for the first time since he last touched me. My grip is tight as I hold his wrist, determined to keep his fingers inside me while I gasp my way through the aftershocks that spark through my lower belly.
Panting hard, I struggle to catch my breath.
When Zeke drops to his haunches, I look down between my legs to see what he’s doing.
“Oh. Oh. Oh. ” My whimpers become moans when he licks my clit, then pushes his tongue inside me. I’m sensitive. Too sensitive. My entire body shudders as Zeke brings me back to the cusp within a minute. “God. Zeke. Fuck.”
With one final thrust of his tongue, he shoves me over into the bright abyss of ecstasy.
I can’t breathe.
Think.
Speak.
All I can do is feel.
It’s pleasure and pain wrapped into one ball of bliss. Stars burst in my vision. My thighs quake, opening and closing around his head, while Zeke uses his tongue to fuck me through my second orgasm. By the time the ringing in my ears has cleared, he’s leaning over me to kiss me again.
With fumbling fingers, I reach for the top button of his jeans.
Zeke’s grip on my hand is resolute when he stops me.
“This isn’t about me, Lily.”
“Please?”
He shakes his head. I move to unbutton his pants again, but he holds firm. The sliding doors I used slide open, the silk curtains billowing out onto the balcony.
“Cherub,” Slash calls. “Are you okay? Someone said they saw you come out here.”
With a finger to his lips, Zeke shakes his head. I keep my mouth shut, scared to break the connection between us. He bends over me and captures my mouth with his. As we kiss, he uses his nimble fingers to unzip my shirt and exposes my upper body to his hungry eyes. Running his tongue down the column of my throat, Zeke dips between my breasts, stopping when he reaches my navel. Fisting the necklace that he gaze me so long ago, he presses the softest kiss to my lower belly, right on top of my surgery scar.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, metukà shelì .”
Slash turns to whoever is with him to ask, “Are you sure she came out here?”
“Yeah. I’ve been keepin’ an eye on her all night like you said,” Isaiah tells him. “She hasn’t come back inside… unless she used the door in Lo’s room.”
Before I can reply to his whispered apology, the man who broke my heart two months ago repeats his disappearing act for a second time. He slips around the corner of the balcony and quietly opens the door Isaiah just mentioned.
“Go check,” Slash commands.
Before Isaiah can reply, I scramble off the table, zip my top up, and pull my skirt down my thighs. “I’m here. Sorry,” I call out as I scoop my ruined panties from the balcony floor and push them into the top of my right boot. “Must’ve fallen asleep.”
When I round the corner, trying my hardest not to wobble on my jelly legs, Slash gives me a funny look. I follow his focus down to my thighs. My fishnets are tattered, quite clearly ripped down the inner seam that runs along the inside my thigh. With a blush that isn’t fake at all, I rush to explain, “I caught them on the table.”
“Here.” Slash shucks his cut, then unbuttons his shirt. “Tie this around your waist or somethin’.”
His gesture is kind, even though his idea solves nothing.
Spying the resolve in his gaze, I accept his offer, although I choose to wear his shirt over my clothes instead. He’s so tall and wide that the tails hang over the top of my boots and cover up my torn tights.
“Are we leaving?”
“Yeah.” Slash lifts his eyebrows and grimaces. “Something’s going down with their new lead singer, so Lo’s gotta go deal with her. Their manager is clearin’ out the penthouse now.”
With my hand in Slash’s, we say our goodbyes. Isaiah joins us on the way out. He takes up position on my opposite side and hooks an arm over my shoulders. I don’t see Zeke, even though I look everywhere for him. Now that I’m no longer caught up in the moment, regret is trying to overwhelm me.
I need to talk to him.
When I can’t find my ex-fiancé in the crowd, I ask Isaiah, “Is Nads coming home with us? What about Zeke?”
“She left with the bass player. He’s taken her back to his room.” The Shamrocks prospect scowls. “Venom found his own way here, he can find his own damn way home.”
“ Oh .” Rather than take up in defence of Zeke, I comment, “I thought Pax had a room in the penthouse. They looked like they needed one earlier.”
Both men laugh at me. I look between them. “What?”
Isaiah pulls me into him and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Never change, Cherub.”
I don’t have time to puzzle through his weird comment because we’re next up to be escorted to the ground floor by the band’s security. After they return our phones, I check mine for messages. Zeke hasn’t contacted me.
My heart sinks.
What did tonight mean?
While Slash arranges an Uber, I keep my gaze locked on the elevators to see if Zeke steps out. He doesn’t.
“Take care of my baby.” Slash tosses the keys for his Range Rover to Isaiah before he opens the door to the Uber for me. I take his hand to steady myself as I climb inside. After he’s seated next to me, he lets his window down to say, “Drop the keys on the counter, then set the alarm and lock the front door behind yourself. Do not wake me up unless the house is on fire or the club needs me.”
Isaiah salutes him, nods at me, then takes off to grab Slash’s vehicle from the stadium parking lot.
“Just one of the perks of being the SAA,” I remark.
“There’s a few.”
Slash holds his arm up in a silent offer for me to snuggle into him. I accept, curling my knees under me and collapsing against him. My body is wrung dry, but my head is wired. Once Slash has made himself comfortable, I screw my eyes shut and will myself to fall asleep.
I think I made a huge mistake tonight.
One I refuse to examine until the morning.
After a few minutes, it works. I drift off, leaning on Slash.
I don’t wake up until he’s shaking me in the back seat.
“We’re home.”
“Go away,” I mumble around my cotton mouth as I slap his hand away when he tries to pinch me awake. “Let me sleep.”
Just like I knew he would, Slash chuckles and pulls me along the seat. He lifts me out of the vehicle and catches the underside of my knees with his arm as his other holds me around my back. I keep my eyes closed, feigning sleep while he carries me upstairs and into the room next to his.
It’s not a short distance, but he isn’t even puffing when we reach our destination.
Of course, the need to take the stairs is his fault. When my things arrived from Zeke, Slash made it clear that I needed to take a bigger room, so he gave me the one next to his oversized master bedroom. Giggling at that thought, I quip, “I bet you’re regretting the whole room change right about now.”
“Gonna start chargin’ you for all the heavy lifting.”
Because he’s shirtless under his cut, it’s easy to find his pierced nipple and twist it. “Take it back! I am not heavy.”
“Fuck.” Slash hisses when I increase the pressure. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
“How? Are you going to put salt in my coffee? It didn’t work last time… I barely noticed it.” Pleasantly tipsy now that I’ve had a nap, I squeal when he tosses me onto my bed. After unzipping my boot, I peel it off my leg and throw it at him. “Take it back, or I’ll shave your pretty mane off in your sleep.”
He catches the first shoe before it can hit him, but when I pull the second one off and my shredded panties fall out, we both freeze.
“’Spose you ripped them on the table too?”
The edge to his voice isn’t one I’ve ever heard from Slash. Unsure what it means, I decide to play it off as a joke. When I lob my second boot at him, it smacks him in the stomach. His mouth drops open, and for a second, I think he’s angry at me until he quips, “ Oh , it’s on now.”
With a running leap, Slash pounces on me. When I try to kick him off the bed, he wrestles me underneath him. Straddling my hips, squeezing his knees to hold me in place so he can tickle me, Slash torments me with a smile. His big fingers find the soft spot under my arms, and he pokes me until I’m squirming beneath him.
“Shit,” Slash curses as he suddenly freezes above me. In a rush, he climbs off my bed. “I’ll see you in the mornin’. Sleep tight.”
I roll my eyes at him as he hotfoots it out of my room like he forgot the oven is on. No doubt his Harley will start up in a minute, so he can head into the compound for some last-minute club business like Zeke used to some nights. While I love the Shamrocks, they don’t exactly keep bankers’ hours. Zeke has woken me up too many times to count to kiss me goodbye in the early hours of the day.
“We’re not thinking about him tonight,” I remind myself out loud.
Colour me surprised when Slash’s bedroom door slams shut and stays closed.
Wide awake, I strip out of Slash’s shirt, then pull the rest of my clothes off. When I reach the ruined fishnets, an idea hits. I hurriedly dress in clean panties and a loose singlet. After retrieving the bottle of tequila that Nadia slipped me a few weeks ago because she is a strong proponent of day drinking your problems away, I boot up my laptop and plug my phone into it.
While my cloud opens, I slam down two long pulls of the sweet agave liquid. The alcohol hits fast and my skin breaks out in goosebumps as my hair stands on end. I scroll through the app in search of the video I’m looking for. Once I’ve clicked on five or six videos without luck, I remember that we used Zeke’s phone to film our home video.
On the off chance that he hasn’t changed his password, I log out of my backup and enter his details. The contents of his phone flash up on my screen. Smiling a little devilishly, I click on the first thing he has listed as keep.
My father’s voice echoes out of my speakers, then Zeke’s joins him.
They’re arguing.
About me.
About the baby.
Until they’re no longer in a disagreement.
Soon enough, they’re hashing out a deal of sorts.
An agreement that involves Zeke staying away from me.
It sounds like the deal they were discussing that day in the chapel.
When my father starts sobbing, I click out of the recording.
It all makes sense.
Why Zeke didn’t come back to me when he returned from Sydney for the funerals.
Why he shushed me then disappeared when Slash and Isaiah came out onto the balcony.
I scoop my bottle of tequila from where I dropped it on my comforter. With it tucked under my arm, I paddle across the thick carpet into the hallway, stopping only once I’m at Slash’s door.
Bebe’s warning flashes in my head.
I knock.
“Cherub?” he calls. His voice sounds strained. “What do you need?”
Without answering, I twist the handle and push the door open. He jerks upright and bunches the covers over his lap. His hair is down, flowing around his shoulders. His chest rises and falls too fast, and his gaze seems unfocused.
“Cherub?”
I hold up the tequila. “I need a drinking buddy.”
After the slightest hesitation, which he uses to secure the blanket tight around his waist, Slash lifts the other side in invitation. Fighting back tears, I drop the bottle to the floor, climb onto the end of his bed, and crawl up to the bedhead. When I fall onto my backside, ready to scoot around to prop my back against the padded headboard, Slash cuffs my throat with his big hand, trapping the chain of my Venom necklace against my skin.
When I try to get free, he tightens his grip and holds me in place.
He makes me look him in the eye. “What happened?”
“I hacked Zeke’s phone.” I swallow hard. Slash’s fingers ripple as if he’s mimicking the movement of my throat. “He recorded himself making a deal with my dad to stay away from me in exchange for them calling a truce.”
“He’s a fuckin’ idiot.”
“It gets worse,” I tell him as a single tear finally falls.
He catches it with his thumb, then licks it from his skin.
A strange sensation swells in my stomach.
I ignore it.
Just like I’m ignoring how much I like his hand around my throat.
Slash’s gaze darkens as we stare at each other. “Tell me, what’s worse?”
“I think he’d already left me before Dad threatened to send me to jail for killing Alex… and I think that’s why you two fought at the cemetery.”
“Like I said…” Slash uses his grip on my neck to tug me closer. My hands land on his thighs, on either side of his obvious erection, and my nose touches his. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth to stop myself from gasping when his dick twitches against my left hand. “He’s a fuckin idiot.”
I try to move away.
Slash holds me in place.
“He’s your best friend.”
“I don’t know how true that is anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m startin’ to think Bebe is right… how can Venom be my best friend when I’ve fallen for his woman?”
The knot in my stomach becomes too big to ignore. I shake my head, blinking away the burn behind my eyes, then I dig my nails into Slash’s wrist until he lets me go. On my hands and knees, I scramble for the end of the bed. My brain is screaming at me, berating me for being so stupid.
I should’ve seen this coming.
Nadia always warns me that men and women can’t be friends.
Turns out she was right.
Before I can reach the end of the bed, Slash grabs my ankle and pulls. He flips me onto my back and straddles my hips. It’s a replica of what he did back in my room, only this time, he’s naked and aroused. I stare at the ceiling, averting my gaze from him when he pins me in place with one arm on either side of my ears and lowers his head until his mouth is a mere millimetre from mine.
“It gets worse,” he repeats my earlier declaration back to me. I screw my eyes shut to block out the raw honesty in his gaze. “I think she’s fallen for me too.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
My hands have a mind of their own when they reach up to cup either side of his jaw. “No.”
“You were with him on the balcony. I can smell him on you,” Slash whispers. “He touched you, then he left you again. He took your love, and it still wasn’t enough for him to stay. He left you there, flushed from comin’ hard as fuck, knowin’ that I’d come find you. That I’d look after you tonight.”
“He—he…” I can’t find the words to defend Zeke because there are none. All I have to shield myself from the man above me is the truth. “I love him.”
“So do I. Doesn’t mean I can’t see that Venom is selfish. Prideful. He is incapable of humblin’ himself for you. For anyone. I’d walk through fire for you, and you know that. You love me for it.”
“I love him more.”
Slash pulls my fingers from his face, one by one, then he pushes my arms above my head. When he pins me with one hand, his grip on my wrists is loose enough for me to escape, yet I don’t try. I stay beneath him, allow him to flay me alive with his final confession. “I know that. Doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way. The universe has a way of rightin’ things if we give it time.”
“You can’t say things like that to me.”
“I’m gonna keep sayin’ ’em until you see sense.”
“Love doesn’t make sense,” I protest.
“It does when you’re with the right person.”
He scans my face with his icy-blue eyes, then nods, almost as if he’s agreeing with himself. In slow motion, he brings my arms around his neck and inverts our positions, so he is on his back and I’m sitting astride him.
My hands land on his wide chest.
I pull back as if touching him burnt me.
“Go on,” he challenges me in a voice that holds the tiniest hint of anger as he yanks my palms back to his heart. “Tell me this doesn’t feel right to you.”
Slash plants his hands on my hips and moves me over him. The only thing that separates us is my panties when his bare, hard cock kicks beneath me. My thighs tighten around him as my core pulses. He drags me along his length again. The multiple piercings that run along the underside offer bite after bite of pleasure and pain.
A shiver runs the length of my spine, and my back bows.
“Touch me. Taste me. Take your fill, my gorgeous, regal, fuckin’ duchess . Let me show you that I’m right. We make sense.”
“This isn’t right.”
Slash smirks. “Don’t tell me my badarse little Cherub is scared?”
I don’t know why I do it.
It’s dangerous.
Wrong.
But I allow his goading to get to me.
Against every instinct.
Against my better judgement.
Against the voice in my head that screams that I’m a one-man woman.
I splay my hands across his pecs, then I drag my fingers into a claw shape over his muscles. My nails score lines on his tattooed skin, scraping his pierced nipples as he rocks beneath me. I do it again. Digging into his chest a little more. He hisses. I rake my nails over his flesh a third time. Harder. This time I leave nail marks, and Slash’s teeth clack together as he arches into my hands.
“Fucking hell, Cherub. Gonna make you come so hard, then I’m gonna come all over you. Gonna paint you with my cum. By the time I’m finished with you tonight, you’re gonna feel like the duchess you’ve always been to me… inside and out.”
In a complete contradiction to his promise, Slash doesn’t touch me anywhere but my hips. The only movement he makes is to grind himself against my pussy as I move above him. Other than that, he allows me to take control. I trace his muscles with my fingertips, claw at his hair when he presses against my clit with the perfect amount of pressure, brace my hands against his thighs as I bow my back to ride through the waves of the climax that hits me in a sneak attack.
When I flop down over him, trembling and twitching, he doesn’t stop.
For the first time, Slash takes liberties. He seizes my mouth with his and kisses me deeply. I taste him. Foreign, yet familiar, at the same time. Nibble on his snake bites, suck his pierced tongue. One of his big hands cups my arse so he can drag me over his cock faster while the other palms my tit underneath my tank top. As he kneads my sensitive flesh and flicks his thumb over my nipple, something sparks under my skin. It jolts through my belly, twisting and turning as it gathers in intensity to pool like molten bliss in my core. Slash senses my approaching orgasm, and with a growl, he lets go of my breast to lock his fingers around my neck. As he uses his grip to push me upright, I whimper at the loss of his lips.
“Keep your eyes on mine,” he tells me when my eyelids droop. “I want you to see what I see.”
He squeezes my throat a little tighter. With my breathing slightly restricted, the fine hairs all over my body stand on end. My skin feels like it’s crackling with electricity. My clit is a bundle of explosive nerve endings in need of one final touch to detonate.
I can’t think.
I can’t blink.
Eyes locked on Slash’s as we drive each other to the crest of a mutual climax, I realise he has tricked me.
Into seeing the truth.
Things with Zeke have never made sense.
It’s always been hard.
A fight.
With Slash, it feels simple.
Like starting a dance where we both know the steps beforehand.
Easy.
“Oh, God. Oh, God .” The walls of my core tighten, tensing and releasing as I begin to tumble toward the pinnacle of bliss. I freeze above him, unsure if I’ll survive another climax this soon after the first. “I can’t—this is. Too. Much.”
Slash pinches either side of my windpipe and cuts off my oxygen completely. Within seconds, I shatter above him. He lets go of my throat as my orgasm swells through me in waves that hit harder with every heartbeat. I gasp for air while he rips my singlet down the middle. Pushing me onto my back, Slash straddles my thighs and fists his big cock. His dinner plate sized hand moves fast, down and up, up and down, ending each pump with a vicious twist of the angry head of his pierced cock, before his palm repeats its journey.
Over and over.
Harder and harder.
Faster and faster.
He fucks his hand while staring me in the eyes with the promise that he’d punish me just as hard if he thought I’d let him. Bending over me, Slash loses his rhythm and ribbons of his release spurt onto my exposed breasts. He’s barely finished with his orgasm when he drops to his side next to me and pulls me back to his chest. Grinding himself against my arse, he uses his free hand to rub his cum into my skin.
Once he seems satisfied that he’s marked me properly, his fingers tighten around my necklace, and I stiffen, expecting he’s going to rip it off me.
He doesn’t.
Instead, Slash lets it slip from his as he falls still and rests his chin on the top of my head. When his breathing returns to normal, he states in a resigned voice, “You’re gonna lie to me, aren’t you—gonna tell me we’re not right, even though I made you see how good we can be together.”
“It’s not right.” I screw my eyes shut and do my best to swallow down the shame that burns deep in my soul. “It never will be.”
After I roll away from him and back to my feet, Slash props himself up on his elbow and stares at me. I refuse to meet his searching gaze or to look at any part of the body that felt so good against mine. The long-forgotten, half-finished bottle of tequila lies on the floor at the end of the bed. Clutching the two sides of my shredded tank top together, I bend down to grab it, then hug the bottle to my sticky chest as I run to the hallway.
“You can lie to me,” he shouts after me in the angriest tone he’s ever directed my way. “But you can’t lie to yourself forever, duchess! The truth has a way of comin’ out.”
I lock myself inside my room, toss the tequila on the mattress, then dash into the bathroom. Once the water is scalding, I step under it and scrub at my breasts. There’s thudding on Slash’s side of the wall, then silence, until the muted sound of his Harley turning over rumbles for half a minute before it fades away.
When the hot water runs out, I wrap myself in a towel and crawl onto my bed.
My laptop mocks me.
With shaky hands, I grab my computer and throw it at the wall.
My phone bounces in front of me when the cord rips free. The new message icon blinks. I touch the screen then swipe up on the notification. When it opens, I have to read the text thread twice before I actually believe my eyes.
ZEKE: What happened tonight can never happen again
ZEKE: It was a mistake
ZEKE: Move on, Lily
ZEKE: That’s what I’ll be doing in Sydney
The laughter that bubbles in my chest isn’t filled with humour. It’s black as tar and full of nothing but scorn. For a moment, I try to stifle it, then it gets the better of me.
So, I just let it flow.
It burns. The irony of it all.
I almost succumb to the guilt that tries to consume me in the face of my mistake with Slash, then the two words Nadia said to me almost two months ago bounce around my head as a saving grace.
She was right, then.
Somehow she manages to be even more so in this moment.
When the maniacal laughter finally dies, I ball my hands into fists and scream as loudly as I can, “Fuck men!”
My throat is raw by the time I’m finished purging my rage, so I drain the bottle of tequila... then I throw myself back on my pillows and cry myself to sleep.