Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
RAVEN
My pulse pounds, nervous energy pumping through me. The bar is packed. They’re loud and boisterous, cheering on the act ahead of me. I peek my head out from backstage, scanning for Rhys. He’s late. Is he coming?
My stomach churns with anxiety.
I haven’t seen him since he dropped me off at the church this morning. He had lunch delivered for me. I hoped he’d swing by to eat with me, but he didn’t. He’s been radio silent today. It’s…unnerving. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I don’t like it.
I consider switching my song and playing it safe.
The thought lasts all of two seconds.
I played it safe for three years. I’m not doing that anymore. I’m leaving my soul out on that stage for him tonight. Heaven or hell. It has to be one or the other.
“Five minutes,” the stage manager says, holding up five fingers to make sure I heard him loud and clear. He’s the same guy who was at the door when I came in the other day. I think his name is Joe. Or John. Or Jason. I don’t remember.
I nod, letting him know I’ll be ready.
“You look beautiful.”
A hand slides around my waist.
“Rhys.” I melt into him, my knees weakening with relief. He’s here. He came. “You’re here.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, songbird,” he says, planting his lips against the side of my throat. He runs them up to my ear. “I’ve been waiting to hear you sing since the first time I heard you speak. You’re going to blow them all away.”
The only one I want to blow away is him.
“Are you nervous?”
“No.” Now that he’s here, I’m not nervous at all.
“Good.” He nips my earlobe. “I’ll be right here waiting for you, princess. I know Brant will be too. Go make him proud.”
I spin around and hug him tightly. “Thank you,” I whisper, my throat welling with emotion.
“For what?”
“For being you.”
“Two minutes, Raven!” Jason, his name is definitely Jason, says.
Rhys brushes his lips across my forehead and gently sets me away from him. “Sing, songbird.”
I nod and hurry toward the stage, blocking out everything except the notes. I run through the lyrics in my head and see the piano arrangement behind my eyes. My breathing is controlled, exactly the way I was taught.
The act before me—a young girl strumming a guitar—finishes her song.
It’s a fun island ditty that has everyone clapping along.
A few people are up dancing. Everyone claps and cheers when Tawnie hops up on the stage with her.
Two waitresses appear with buckets, circulating through the crowd. People drop in money as they pass by.
The girl waves, blows a kiss, and then bounds off the stage.
“Break a leg!” she says, a genuine smile on her face as she passes by me.
“Thank you.”
Tawnie introduces me.
I take one last look over my shoulder at Rhys and step out onto the stage. It’s bright and loud. I wave. Smile. Everyone claps, their energy high. I slide onto the piano bench. My hands are steady as I place them on the keys.
The crowd quiets, the dull roar fading.
I take a breath…and sing.
I said I could live without you
That I didn’t need to breathe
Until I found myself in your arms
Illusion shatters quickly when truth settles in
Because I’ve been lying to myself
Crying to myself
Pretending you aren’t all I need
But, baby, I’m broken for you
Hoping you’ve been needing me too
Unmasked and stripped of all pretenses
Not whole without you, but bound to you
Begging you, begging you
Choose me too
Because I’ve been lying to myself
Crying to myself
Pretending you aren’t all I need
But, baby, I’m broken for you
Hoping you’ve been needing me too
Please, love me too.
A heavy silence permeates the bar. The only sound is the blood rushing in a thick hum through my veins and the final, mournful strains of my song as it fades to a whisper. My chest barely rises, my breaths shallow. I keep my eyes closed, waiting for the final note of the song to fade.
I feel Rhys watching me from the shadows, his gaze heavy. It sets me on fire, making me ache for him. Always, I ache for him.
I take another shallow breath and release it. It seems unnaturally loud in the deafening silence around me.
No one moves.
Five seconds tick by.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Thunderous applause erupts from every corner of the room, as deafening as the silence that preceded it. Triumph blooms in my chest, relief. I poured my whole soul into that song, and they loved it.
I rise to my feet. Tawnie hops up on stage, beaming at me. I don’t hear what she says. My mind is focused entirely on Rhys. As soon as the buckets come out, I spin and rush off the stage, eager to get to him, to share this moment with him.
As soon as he sees me coming toward him, he opens his arms, ready to catch me.
I crash into him like a meteor, knocking him back a little deeper into the shadows.
His body engulfs me, his breathing ragged.
His erection presses against my belly. All I see in the dark are his green eyes blazing with unholy fire.
“Jesus, Raven,” he growls.
Our lips meet, our tongues moving in a perfectly choreographed dance. We melt into one another, a tangle of trembling limbs and greedy desperation. Of forbidden desire and helpless addiction. We’re slaves to it, unable to deny the strength of the bond between us.
He’s my father’s best friend, but that’s not what I think about when he touches me.
All I think about is how good he is to me, and how badly I ache for him.
All I see is him, that big body hewn from one thick slab of muscle.
Those tattoos painted across his golden skin.
The angular cut of his jaw and the full, uneven lips that kiss me like he plans to survive off me.
“You sing like a fucking angel,” he whispers, breaking the kiss to look at me. His expression is aswirl with emotion. Pride. Possession. Desire.
Does he know I sang for him? That I meant every word?
“I missed you today,” I whisper instead of telling him.
“Yeah?” he asks.
I bob my head, strands of my hair catching on the wooden wall. We’re completely hidden from the rest of the bar, tucked in an alcove behind the stage. They’re only yards away, but miles might as well separate us. They’re muted, their applause fading as Tawnie introduces the next act for the night.
“Were you singing for me, sweet Raven?” Rhys asks, his firm hands locking down on my hips.
“I…”
“Don’t lie to me, songbird.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
He grunts his satisfaction, pulling me closer.
I feel the hard ridge of his erection against my belly.
Anticipation turns my nipples to hard points.
We’re in the middle of a bar, and I want him anyway.
I think some part of me wants him right now because we’re in the middle of a bar.
There’s a naughty, forbidden edge to the desire coursing through my veins.
I know he won’t allow anyone to see me. But the thought that they’re so close… I like it.
“Rhys? I need you.”
A growl rumbles in his throat.
“Please,” I whisper, feeling like I might spiral out of control.
I’ve never thought about having sex like this, with one hundred other people so close.
But I’m not surprised. When Rhys touches me, nothing else matters.
He consumes me, turns me into some wanton version of myself that I find myself eager to know.
She’s braver than I am, bolder. Capable of keeping this dark prince worshipping at her feet.
“You need to come, Raven?” he asks, spinning me around in his arms so I’m staring out at the stage. His hand splays across my belly, so low I feel the heat of it between my legs. “You want me inside you right here?”
I moan his name.
“Tell me,” he demands, pressing his lips to my exposed shoulder. His hand creeps lower.
Warmth rushes through me, every nerve ending in my body firing.
“Tell me, Raven.”
“Yes.” The word is a mere whisper of sound exhaled into the shadows.
“No, princess. I want you to say the words. Open that sweet mouth and tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“I…” I falter and then reach deep for a little courage. “Fuck me, Rhys. Please.”
He spins me to face him again, his forest eyes twin flames of male satisfaction.
“Kiss me,” he demands, thrusting his hand into my hair to crane my head back.
I kiss him willingly, my lips whispering along his before I slip my tongue inside his mouth, emboldened the way I always am in his arms. I pour everything into the kiss, trying to wreck him like he always does me.
Warmth turns to heat and then to fire and liquid flame.
It licks along every inch of my skin, turning need into a painful, blistering ache.
“I need you.”
I’m not sure which of us speaks those words.
I feel his need for me as if it’s my own.
He feels mine the same way, I know he does.
We feed off each other, our desire creating a powerful harmonic that flows between us in an unbroken line.
First in me and then in him. When he’s kissing me, I feel every second, every heartbeat.
I lose myself in it, reveling in the euphoria it sends bubbling through my veins.
Music swells to life around us, so loud I feel it vibrating in my stomach and my chest. It doesn’t stop us, doesn’t pull us apart.
We drown in bliss together, locked in a passionate embrace, caught in the notes of forever.
He rucks my dress up, his rough hand gliding up my thigh.
I tug at his pants, trying to free his cock.
Cool air dances against my inner thighs and then my damp panties.
He doesn’t stop kissing me. Not even when I wrap my fingers around his hard length, stroking him the way he taught me. He likes it rough, likes a little bit of pain with his pleasure. I give it to him, reminding him of how good I can be for him.
“Jesus,” he growls, shoving his hand inside my panties.