Why did that sound so deliciously debauched? I hadn’t meant it to sound that way.
“If I do this, will you cut the macho bullshit and be professional?”
Before he could answer, Loren spoke, his voice an ingratiating mumble, “We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
Jericho snickered, and I realized with the daunting awareness of someone up shit creek without a paddle that I’d attached myself to silly boys parading as grown men.
Ignoring the consequences, I centered myself between them. They didn’t miss a beat, surrounding me as if we’d done this before and many times.
My most remarkable feat, while breathing the same air, was pretending the sensation of them pressing in close didn’t smell sweet and spicy like freshly-ground cinnamon. While I’ve been excited before, the feeling had never been quite this sharp. I couldn’t see anyone or anything but them. Even though they kept me on edge, I felt safer within the circle they created than I did out there. It felt like no one could touch me.
Only them.
“Come now, Loren. We both know I was talking to Houston.” I turned to face him, putting Houston and the wall of heat and menace he created behind me while Jericho stood just within my peripheral. I could feel that torturously beautiful gaze of his roving over every inch of me while he thought I was distracted. “He is the one calling the shots, right?”
The sweet smile I gave Loren made his eyes flash with something dark and unreadable. Whatever it was, I secretly wanted in.
“For now,” he admitted readily, blowing another bubble of his gum.
My smile became genuine, hearing the warning growl from Houston behind me. I’d ventured into dangerous waters, and I was only getting started. Loren had blatantly challenged his authority, and Houston was ready to accept. The thrill of what they might do to one another tiptoed down my spine.
Without thinking, I reached up and stabbed the bubble protruding between Loren’s sinful lips. The gum popped and deflated, leaving a sticky, blue mess. Those pools of ink he called eyes widened in shock even as the irises gleamed with retribution.
The last thing I expected was for him to press forward, place his nose against my hair and inhale. He was smelling me and didn’t care if I noticed. I found myself doing the same, breathing in the mint on his breath and bergamot in his expensive cologne.
Fuck me.
“When you least expect it, baby fawn, you’re going to hurt for that.”
Don’t make promises you can’t keep.
I forced myself to step away before crossing my arms. I may have a great poker face, but the rest of me was a different story. Loren’s punishment, coming sooner than later, smelled like cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven. I sensed the thrill stirring in other places too. Apparently, I was a masochist, among other secret things.
“Do you understand what a tautology is?” I waited for his answer, and he didn’t disappoint.
“As unquestionably as your nipples are hard right now.”
Fuck.
I dropped my arms, but to his credit and my relief, Loren’s gaze didn’t stray from my face to confirm.
He knew.
“It’s the middle of winter,” I found myself explaining.
“Oh, is it?”
A moment later, I heard the beginnings of a chant. With each second, the voices grew louder, the crowd’s demand clear.
Bound.
The crowd expected Houston, Loren, and Jericho to take the stage next, and they knew it. They were sending me to the slaughter. I wasn’t who the people wanted to set their souls on fire. It was three assholes entitled to nothing but given everything.
I met each of their gazes—green, silver, and opaque.
I wasn’t the only one hiding.
If Bound expected me to beg for mercy, they were in for a rude awakening well overdue. Without another word, I turned on my heel and pushed through Jericho and Houston. I felt three pairs of eyes on me and squared my shoulders as I headed for the curtains. I should have been relieved to see Liam, Mason, and Abe waiting for me, but the questions in their eyes told me I had a long night ahead of me.
“One of the crew said that Bound was here,” Mason spoke first. “He was shitting me, right?”
“Afraid not.” Their frowns deepened at the apparent fact that I was unhappy about it. “I’ll explain later.”
Gazing at the black curtain and now knowing Bound was on the other side, the guys were too star-struck to do more than nod. Liam eventually handed over my second-hand blue and white Fender Strat, tuned and ready to go.
Why couldn’t they have something to prove? Why couldn’t they lie and claim they hated Bound’s music? At least then, I wouldn’t be subjected to the fanboying I knew would come later.
I let the guys enter the stage ahead of me and cringed when they rounded the massive LED screen and were immediately greeted with a chorus of boos louder than anyone had been subjected to thus far.