Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2) Read online

  Wild Flame

  Micalea Smeltzer

  Contents

  Blurb

  Prologue

  1. Kira

  2. Rush

  3. Kira

  4. Rush

  5. Kira

  6. Rush

  7. Kira

  8. Rush

  9. Kira

  10. Rush

  11. Kira

  12. Rush

  13. Kira

  14. Rush

  15. Kira

  16. Rush

  17. Kira

  18. Rush

  19. Kira

  20. Rush

  21. Kira

  22. Rush

  23. Kira

  24. Rush

  25. Kira

  26. Rush

  27. Kira

  28. Rush

  29. Kira

  30. Rush

  31. Kira

  32. Rush

  33. Kira

  34. Rush

  35. Kira

  36. Rush

  37. Kira

  38. Rush

  39. Kira

  40. Rush

  41. Kira

  42. Rush

  43. Kira

  44. Rush

  45. Kira

  46. Rush

  47. Kira

  48. Rush

  49. Kira

  50. Rush

  51. Kira

  52. Rush

  53. Kira

  54. Rush

  55. Kira

  56. Rush

  57. Kira

  58. Rush

  59. Kira

  Epilogue

  Wild Collision Blurb

  Bring Me Back Blurb

  Excerpt from Desperately Seeking Roommate

  1. Lou

  Also by Micalea Smeltzer

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Blurb

  He was raging chaos.

  Kira Marsh wants to escape her past—so far, she’s done just that. But it doesn’t stop the memories from catching up to her.

  She was the sweetest sin.

  Rush Daniels has been spiraling out of control for a long time.

  Haunted by the loss of his parents, he’s losing his grip on reality day by day.

  Together they were a fire that couldn’t be doused.

  When Rush and Kira start their no-strings attached relationship they expect it to be easy. But when one starts to fall for the other, things spiral out of control in a way neither ever expected.

  Suddenly, they’re both facing their demons head-on, while their future together hangs in uncertainty.

  © Copyright 2019 Micalea Smeltzer

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design © Regina Wamba

  Cover Photo © Wander Aguiar Photography

  Models: Kaz & Adrea

  Editor: KBM Editing

  Created with Vellum

  To anyone who needs to hear it—you are strong enough.

  Prologue

  Rush—8 years ago

  “We’re so proud of you.” My mom turned around from the front passenger seat to look at me in the backseat of the car, my long legs curled up to nearly my chin so I’d fit in the backseat of the tiny Toyota Prius. “A basketball scholarship … it’s incredible.”

  Pride radiated off of her and I felt my chest puff out. All I’d ever wanted was to make my parents proud of me.

  “Thanks, Ma.”

  “Seriously, son, this is quite the accomplishment,” my dad added, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. “This is one step closer to your dreams.”

  I’d wanted to be a professional basketball player since I was four-years-old and got a Fisher Price toy hoop and ball for Christmas. My friends, they had different dreams, to make it to the big times with our band. That’d be cool, but basketball was my first love, music second. This was my chance to attend a great school, further my education, and if the stars aligned join the NBA.

  “I know.” I glanced out the window at the dark cloudless sky. The stars were bright, one of the advantages of living in a small town. Maybe it was looking at the stars all these years that made me dream of bigger things.

  “Where do you want to go to celebrate?” My mom asked me, once more turning to look at me. If she kept that up she was going to get a crick in her neck.

  They’d picked me up from practice, despite having a car of my own, because the full-ride scholarship to Duke University had come in and they’d been desperate for me to open it. After the good news there was no way they were parting from me. I wouldn’t complain. I loved my parents.

  I was an only child—their miracle child they called me. After years and years of trying they’d finally conceived me. Growing up, we’d always had a close relationship, and I was man enough to admit I’d miss them when I left for college.

  “Can we get pizza?” I asked. Over the years, any time something good happened we always celebrated over pizza. I didn’t see why this should be any different.

  “Sure.” She glanced behind at me again, smiling. “We are so happy for you, Rush. This is more than we ever dreamed for you.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners. To me those wrinkles didn’t show her age, but her happiness instead. My mom was always the happiest person I knew.

  I couldn’t help feeling choked up by her words. My parents had spent years driving me to practices, attending every game, buying everything I needed to play the sport I loved and I knew at times it’d been a burden for them money-wise, but they never complained. Not once.

  “This isn’t my victory alone,” I told her, meaning it. “It’s all of ours.”

  Her smile spread. “We lov—”

  “Dad!” I screamed, my eyes widening in horror at the incoming lights, but it was too late.

  He jerked the wheel, but the car drifting from the other lane slammed head on into our tiny car.

  My body lurched.

  My mom screamed.

  Glass rained everywhere.

  Then, there was only darkness.

  Until, there wasn’t.

  I blinked open my eyes, strapped to a gurney. An oxygen mask was pressed over my mouth and nose. Red and blue lights flashed everywhere, nearly blinding my sensitive eyes. My body hurt, and I tried to lift my arm but it was immobile.

  “Mom!” I called out. “Dad!” My screams were muffled by the mask. I twisted and jerked my body and the paramedic tending to me came into my line of sight.

  “Don’t move,” he warned, his voice stern but kind. “What’s your name?” he asked, lowering my mask. I didn’t notice the pity in his eyes, not yet anyway.

  “R-Rush. Rush Daniels.”

  “We’re going to take care of you, Rush.”

  He put the mask back over my mouth and nose before I could ask about my parents. The gurney I was on jerked and raised into the air. As I was wheeled away I saw it.

  The blood, so much blood in the car, and on the ground…

  Two shrouded bodies lying side by side.

  Tears leaked out of my eyes as emptiness filled my heart, a pain like nothing I’d ever experienced cleaving the organ in two.

  Seconds.

  Seconds was all it took to change my life forever.

  For me to lose my paren
ts, my chance at playing basketball, for my entire future to go up in flames.

  I vowed then, as the ambulance doors closed and I could no longer see the two bodies covered in white sheets, that I would never again allow myself to feel—to love—anything, ever again, because all it took was a single heartbeat to rip it all away.

  1

  Kira

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I pant, my breath lost somewhere on the floor along with my panties and any sort of common sense I once possessed.

  Rush grips my hips tighter, and I grind down on his cock. I try to contain my moan but it’s impossible. The things he does to me sets my body on fire.

  He grins up at me. “You didn’t accidentally fall on my dick,” he reminds me.

  I roll my hips and grab my breasts, wishing he didn’t make me feel so fucking good. Rush knows what he’s doing when it comes to sex and it shows. I can’t think of any man I’ve been with who’s made my body come alive the way he does. Normally, it’s always been about the release, with Rush it’s about the journey.

  “Yeah,” I breathe, “but we’ve been doing this for…” I try to calculate how many months this no-strings-attached relationship of ours has been going, but with his cock buried inside my pussy and doing magical things to me, my brain can barely function. “Too long,” I finish. It’s close enough of an answer.

  He flips me over and a surprised scream leaves my throat.

  I expect him to pound into me, fuck me senseless, but instead he grabs my legs pushing my knees toward my chest and rolls his hips oh-so-slowly into me. My whole body shudders from the sensation and my eyes roll back into my head.

  He lowers his head and nips my neck. “We’ve just started.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” My fingers shake as my body is overridden with pleasure. I’m not normally this chatty during sex, but for some reason today I’m feeling supremely guilty, because I’ve broken all my rules with Rush and I don’t like blurred lines.

  I’ve always vowed to never fuck someone I know. Strike one against Rush is he’s the best friend of my best friend’s boyfriend. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself when it came to him. Strike two—we’ve slept together multiple times, hell probably hundreds of times at this point, and my rule was always once and done. Strike three—sometimes he stays the night, a lot of times actually, and I’ve never let a guy do that.

  By all accounts, with three strikes against him, Rush should be out.

  I can’t get enough of him, though. I’m like an addict. Addicted to the rush he gives me. How funny, Rush is a rush. He gives me a high no one and nothing else can.

  He kisses me, his tongue tangling with mine and silencing anything else I might say.

  I let the conversation drop for now. While he’s making me feel this good and giving orgasms galore I really shouldn’t complain. The rules have already been broken many times over, so why am I bothering to get upset now? It’s pointless.

  “Get out of your head,” he growls, nipping my ear. “Nothing’s changed.”

  He’s right. Nothing has changed. I don’t want any more from him than just sex, and it’s the same for him.

  It’s weird for me though considering I’ve never slept with the same guy. I want them for sex and nothing else, so beyond bringing me pleasure I don’t need anything else from them.

  Then, Rush came into the picture.

  He rolled into town with all his pompous L.A. boy grins, thinking he could say whatever he wanted and panties would drop—most would have, but not mine.

  It all changed when I ran into him at the gym with my best friend Mia and I saw what he was packing in those gym shorts. Oh yeah, I knew I had to get my mouth around that glorious cock and I hoped a guy as hot as him with that kind of tool could live up to it and give me plenty of orgasms. Boy, has he delivered. Something I’ve learned over the years is guys can talk the talk, but not walk the walk. Honestly, guys should be forced to take a class on what a clitoris is and how to rub it just right.

  Rush, thankfully, could talk the talk and walk the walk.

  My vagina sang a song of glory in his honor and continues to every chance it gets.

  “It has changed, if you think you’re in charge,” I snap back, because it’s easier to argue with him than to admit I agree.

  I push him to roll over and—

  A scream erupts out of me as we fall.

  Rush slams onto the floor beside my bed and lets out a groan as my weight falls on top of him.

  “I think you broke my dick,” he huffs out, his face red.

  “Don’t be a baby. Man up.” I smack his muscled chest, right over the tattoos on his pectoral muscles.

  “Man up,” he growls in a repeated mockery.

  I scream again as he grabs me and stands up with me in his arms. My breath leaves me in a whoosh as I find my back slammed into the wall, his fingers biting into my hips. His cock rams into me and I gasp, grabbing his shoulders. In one hand he grabs my hair, tilting my head to the side and exposing my neck. He bares his teeth.

  “Don’t tell me to man up, Kira. You might not like the consequences—also you’re not in charge. Neither am I. We’re fucking equals. That’s why this works.”

  Before I can retort he bites my neck.

  Bites. My. Neck.

  Like some kind of fucking vampire or some shit.

  I scratch his chest and he releases the spot with a wicked grin.

  “Don’t do that.” I narrow my eyes at him, daring him to push me and try it again.

  “Fuck, I love when you get mad.”

  “You’re seriously messed up,” I scoff.

  He growls lowly. “Shut. Up. Kira.”

  Before I can argue with him yet again, he presses a bruising kiss to my lips. His tongue slides against mine and it feels like he’s fucking my mouth with as much vigor as he is my pussy.

  I grab at his hair, tugging roughly and he hisses. Pulling his mouth from mine, he growls, “You want it rough this time, babe? I have no problem with that.”

  His fingers squeeze my ass with bruising pressure and I gasp.

  He silences the noise with a raging kiss.

  He sucks my bottom lip between his and lets it go. He caresses his nose against my cheek and I shudder as his mouth brushes my ear. “You can tell me you’re in charge, and act like it all you want, but the way your body surrenders to me tells me everything I need to know.”

  My body shakes in his arms. I’m silently glad he’s strong enough to hold up my body, because I’ve lost complete control of it.

  My head lolls back against the wall, my eyes drifting closed from pleasure as he fucks me.

  I wish he was wrong, that I had the voice to tell him I don’t surrender to him, but I do.

  He’s the only man I’ve ever done that with.

  Growing up watching my mom be battered around by jerk after jerk set me up to make sure I took control of my life and who I slept with.

  But while he might be a cocky prick half the time, I know he’s not a bad guy, not like the ones my mom always gravitated to. With his band destined for great things, he can’t be a total screw up. Plus, it helps that he’s basically me in male form.

  He loves sex.

  I love sex.

  He likes it rough.

  I like it rough.

  He doesn’t want a relationship.

  I don’t either.

  It’s the perfect situation—we can fuck anytime we want, schedules permitting, and don’t need to know anything else about each other. I don’t even know his middle name or his birthday, and I don’t care.

  He sucks on the skin near my neck and I grab his hair roughly, pulling his head away.

  He grins, his denim blue eyes shining with humor. His blond hair, sweaty from our marathon sex that started hours ago, hangs messily in those eyes that seem to mock me.

  “Give me a hickey and you’ll regret it,” I warn him with venom in my voice.

  He cups one of my brea
sts in his big hand and gives it a squeeze. “You won’t be saying that when you’re screaming my name.”

  I scream as I find myself tossed back on my bed. In seconds, his big body is over me. He flips me over and slams into me. I bunch the sheets in my hands and let out a low moan despite myself, my body pushing back into his as I wiggle my ass.

  He slaps his hand against my ass and gives it a squeeze, eliciting another long moan from me.

  He lowers over me, and growls lowly, “I’m going to fuck you so hard, so thoroughly, you’ll be begging me to put my mark on you.”

  Wetness pools out of me at his words and I hate my body for betraying me.

  “I thought you said we were equals,” I pant, struggling to find my voice as he pounds into me.

  His voice lowers to a whisper as he says, “Did you think I wasn’t going to let you put your mark on me? Fuck, Kira, I’d love to see what you’d do to me.”

  I moan again at the very idea of leaving behind a visible mark on Rush. It’s this primal feeling of marking him as mine, and it scares me that I even think about wanting it.