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

  Obviously, I’ve done gone and lost my damn mind all over this fucking blond Adonis and his monster cock.

  Does that mean I’m going to stop our arrangement? Hell no. He’s the best sex I’ve ever had and I’d be dumb to give it up easily.

  Besides, it’s laughable to think I’ve caught feelings as easily as the common cold. I’m above such frivolous things as feelings.

  “You like the idea of that, huh, don’t you?” His breath is a rasp in my ear and my body tingles. “You don’t want to admit you like me, but you do.”

  Fuck, he sees me too well.

  “I don’t like you,” I pant, struggling to catch my breath from his relentless pace. “I like your cock.”

  He chuckles huskily and my nipples tighten in response to the sound.

  He bends and presses a tender kiss to the back of my shoulder, near my neck. “Keep telling yourself that, Kira.”

  Before I can retort his hands tighten even more around my hips and he fucks me relentlessly until I forget everything except the pleasure he brings me.

  With a groan and a shudder, he reaches his climax at the same time an orgasm wracks my body. He holds me, my back cradled to his chest as I lose control of myself. He nips my neck where it meets my shoulder.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous when you cum. It’s the only time you’re ever completely free and not in control.”

  His words barely register. My mind is lost to pleasure.

  I don’t know how much time passes before I regain some power over my body and we collapse onto the bed.

  I lay on my stomach and Rush reaches over, squeezing my ass with a grin.

  “I love fucking you.”

  I snort, my nose twitching with amusement. “Um … thanks, I think.”

  “It’s a compliment, believe me.” He rolls to his back, and stares up at the ceiling.

  Both of us are still struggling to regain our breath, and I don’t know about him but I feel exhausted with it growing more difficult by the second to keep my eyes open.

  I force my body up and head to the bathroom to pee.

  Returning to my room Rush is already asleep with his arm crooked over the top part of his face. I toss a blanket over him before slipping beneath the sheets.

  The first time we fucked it happened by accident, him falling asleep in my bed, and then after that it didn’t seem to matter. He’s good about staying out of my way and since he doesn’t ask personal questions and try to get to know me I don’t mind it. Don’t get me wrong, we do talk, but about basic shit. Like, what our day is like or what we want to eat. I think we might even be friends in some weird way, which probably makes this whole thing a lot more complicated than I try to make myself believe.

  I stifle a yawn and roll away from his big body—seriously, the guy is huge everywhere and takes up almost my entire queen size bed.

  When I fall asleep I dream of him, the dream world showing me impossibilities of our future—impossible, because I don’t want a future with him, or anyone.

  2

  Rush

  “Um…” I look at the menu board, scanning the items as if I haven’t seen them a million times before. “I’ll take six glazed donuts and six chocolate covered. I also want a large black coffee, and a small toasted almond latte,” I tell the Dunkin’ Donuts worker, pulling out my wallet from my back pocket.

  It’s early and the line behind me is long from the work crowd, needing their caffeine fix before they face the day.

  She rings up my order and I hand her the cash for it while another worker starts gathering my order.

  “Here’s your change,” she says with an appreciative smile, checking me out.

  I grin. “Thanks, darlin’.” I wink and she blushes as I move to the side to wait for my order. I can’t help it that I ooze charm and girls can’t help but be enamored.

  Standing with my arms crossed over my chest, I wait for the donuts and coffee. When I left Kira’s place she was still asleep. I don’t know how it started, but shortly after we started having sex regularly I began going and getting breakfast and coffee. I bring it back to her place and sometimes I stay, other times I go depending on whether or not I overslept and have to be at the studio.

  Our arrangement suits me well. She’s hot, fucking amazing in bed, and she doesn’t want to get to know me. I’ve never had a problem getting a girl if I need to get laid, but I have to admit it’s a lot more convenient having one girl I’m sleeping with and I don’t have to put any effort into it to get what I want. Maybe that makes me sound selfish, but Kira wants the same thing. As long as neither of us is getting hurt by the arrangement I don’t see the issue.

  “Your order, sir,” the guy says, holding out a bag to me and a cardboard drink carrier with the two coffees.

  “Thanks, man.” I take everything from him and head out to my truck.

  The bright red Chevy Silverado HD is a gift from our producer and mentor Hayes. When we signed our contract with him all four of us requested vehicles of our choice since we had to move all the way across the country from L.A. to a small town in northern Virginia close to D.C. There was no way we could tolerate being stuck here with no wheels.

  I open the passenger door and place the bag of donuts on the seat and take the coffees from the carrier and put them in my cup holders. No way in hell am I risking the coffee sliding off the seat and staining my interior.

  I close the door and climb in the driver’s side. At six-foot-six it’s no struggle for me to get into the massively tall truck, but I’ve had a chuckle at time or two while watching Kira get in and out of it. Lucky for her, I’m always willing to put a helping hand on her ass to get her inside. I’m a gentleman like that.

  I drive back to her apartment and park on the street. I make sure to feed the meter—having learned the hard way how quickly the cops around here are willing to give me a ticket. Apparently they’re all bored out of their minds since nothing interesting ever seems to happen around here.

  I take the outdoor steps up to her second floor apartment, sliding my key in the door and opening it. The hinges creak eerily. I guess since she doesn’t have security this loud ass door is the next best thing.

  The shower is running, so at least Kira’s up and getting ready for her classes. She’s a beast when I have to wake her. She tossed her phone at my head once. That shit hurt.

  I set the bag of donuts on the counter along with the coffee. Popping open the lid I grab a glazed donut and in one bite half of it is gone.

  The shower shuts off with a squeak and I hear the suction of the door opening. A moment later Kira pads out into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around her body and one around her damp hair like some sort of turban or some shit.

  “Mmm, coffee,” she hums. “Gimme.” She holds out grabby hands and I give her the black coffee.

  She eyes my latte with a smirk. “I still can’t believe you drink that girly shit. Honestly, is it even coffee?”

  I pick up my coffee and take a large gulp. “Black coffee is for people who either hate themselves or have no soul.”

  She pats down her body with her free hand and I fight the urge to tear the towel off her body. Neither of us has time for morning sex today, even if it’d be fucking amazing. “Definitely no soul here.” She shrugs her slender shoulders and reaches past me for a chocolate covered donut.

  “Luckily mine is pure and holy enough for the two of us,” I joke, licking glaze from my lips.

  She snorts and fuck I find it kind of adorable.

  “Thanks for the breakfast,” she says with a dismissive tone.

  Her code for get the fuck out of my space.

  I make a noise of protest and press a hand to my chest as if I’m wounded. “Ready to get rid of me so soon?”

  “I orgasmed. You ejaculated. We got a good night’s rest, now coffee and donuts, frankly, what’s left?” She raises a single dark brow in challenge. I love challenges.

  “I could paint your nails while you tell me stories ab
out your childhood,” I jest.

  She narrows her eyes and bites out a deadly, “No.”

  I have no problem with the fact that Kira doesn’t want to talk about personal shit. I don’t want to either, having to explain about my parents, and all that happened after the wreck … the downward spiral it sent me into, is not something I like to talk about. But even I have to admit, after all the months we’ve been doing this thing it seems a little weird not to know more about each other.

  “All right.” I hold my hands up innocently. “I’m going as soon as I finish my donuts.”

  “Lock up when you leave.” She gives me a warning look, but it’s unnecessary. I learned a long time ago she loses her shit if the door isn’t locked.

  She takes her donut and coffee, disappearing into her bedroom. The door closes behind her—shutting me out.

  It’s funny how she continually shuts me out, yet I have a fucking key to her apartment.

  I only wish I had a key into her mind, because despite myself I’m desperate to know more about Kira Marsh.

  I pull open the door to Mist Records & Studio. I still don’t understand the fucking name. All Hayes has told us is it’s an inside joke—well guess what lad, I want in on the joke.

  It’s almost ten and I’m not surprised to see Cannon already in the studio with Hayes. He’s a fucking overachiever.

  “Hope I’m not interrupting anything—actually, I don’t care,” I quip as I join them.

  Cannon shakes his head, pulling a beanie low over his ears and gives Hayes an apologetic smile. “I’m not responsible for the dumbness that leaves Rush’s mouth.”

  Hayes gives a small chuckle. “Believe me, I learned with my band there is no controlling each other. I’m glad you’re here on time for once,” Hayes spins his chair toward me, “you’re up first today.”

  “When am I ever late?” I ask, disgruntled.

  Cannon begins to tick off on his fingers. “Last Wednesday, the Friday before that, you were late that Monday too I think, and—”

  “Okay, okay.” I hold up my hands, urging him to shut the fuck up. “I get your point.”

  I stand up and yank my sweatshirt off, dropping it on Cannon’s head.

  “Fucker,” he grumbles, grabbing my sweatshirt and tossing it on the floor.

  As I stroll into the recording booth, Fox enters, stifling a yawn. Like always he looks like he rolled right out of bed and forgot to brush his fucking hair. One of these days I’m shaving it all off while he sleeps.

  I sit down behind the drum set and pull my drumsticks out of my back pocket. I never go anywhere without them, the same way I used to always seem to have a basketball glued to my hand.

  It’s not often I think about that lost dream. How basketball meant more to me than music, unlike my friends who always put the band first. I lost my dream of going pro when both my legs were broken in the accident. After that, it was never going to happen, and the next thing I was most passionate about was music. So, here I am today.

  I hold my drumsticks in one hand and slide on the headphones.

  Before Hayes can tell me to start Hollis arrives.

  Hayes gives him a narrowed eye look before swiveling his chair back to face me behind the glass.

  I’m thankful there’s no outright hostility between Hayes and Hollis. When Hayes found out Hollis had been fucking his daughter, Mia, we’d been temporarily fired and shipped back to L.A. Thankfully they worked their shit out, we got our contract back, and we’ve been back in the studio since, working hard.

  I watch Hollis drop onto the leather couch beside Fox. He sports a smirk and says something to Fox. It’s strange looking at Hollis now, how much he’s changed. He’s not hollow-eyed anymore, not nearly as angry either, and he genuinely looks happy. Mia’s been good for him. That path isn’t for me, though. I’m not ready to settle down, not now, probably not ever.

  Hayes waves his hand, bringing my attention back to him.

  I wait for his signal and start drumming.

  My eyes close and I feel the rhythm of the drums. I’ve come to crave this feeling, this unleashing of something. When I’m playing the drums I can drown out the world, the thoughts in my head, and for a moment nothing else exists.

  Even I don’t exist.

  There’s a freedom in it I can’t get anywhere else.

  An hour passes before Hayes has me switch with Cannon so he can set down some bass recordings.

  My right leg jumps restlessly as I sit and wait with Hollis and Fox.

  I hate being stuck, not being able to do something, which makes these in-between times incredibly difficult on me.

  I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t found Kira to distract me. At least back in L.A. there were clubs, parties, and women. Here in this small town there are diners and bowling. Yeah, there’s women here too, but none of them intrigue me like Kira does.

  We don’t talk about our pasts, not about anything personal, but from the moment I started hanging around her more, I sensed a kindred spirit. I don’t know what she’s gone through, perhaps witnessed, but I know it’s something. I don’t ask about it. If she wants to open up to me one day she will. We have this unspoken rule between us—I don’t push her, and she doesn’t push me.

  What we have works for the both of us. Sex and companionship without the complication of feelings.

  She’s the first girl I’ve ever met that hasn’t wanted more from me. It’s refreshing to find a woman that’s confident in the fact that she likes sex and doesn’t need a man.

  I pull out my phone from my pocket, bringing up my apps.

  I haven’t done it yet, despite the months Kira and I have been at this, but I delete every hook-up app off my phone.

  I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, but I reason I can always add the apps back later if we decide to end this. We promised we’d be exclusive to each other for as long as we felt necessary, so there’s no need for me to keep them.

  I watch the icons disappear and I’m surprised when I find my shoulders feel lighter.

  3

  Kira

  “I can’t believe you invited me out for girl time. You spend all your free time with Hollis now,” I joke to my best friend Mia.

  She flips her red hair over her shoulder and holds out her hands to the nail tech.

  “I don’t spend all my time with Hollis. I have school and work too, you know.”

  “I do know,” I quip, since we go to the same school and work together.

  I don’t begrudge her for falling in love and getting a boyfriend. While I might not be one for all the lovey-dovey shit, I do understand most people aren’t me. But it’s still fun to pick on her.

  “The guys are in D.C. with my dad tonight,” she explains on a sigh. “They’re making some sort of appearance at a music club. I thought it would be nice for us to catch up on girl things.”

  “Oh,” I say softly. Rush didn’t tell me, and it’s not like me to care that he didn’t, so it surprises me to feel a sting of hurt. Schooling my features, I say, “Well, since you said you’re paying I’m all about the girl things.” I wiggle my fingers and the nail tech glares at me.

  Things like getting my nails done, a haircut, and anything of the sort are a luxury I can’t afford.

  “I thought we could do this, grab a bite to eat, and watch a movie at my place,” she explains with a shrug. “It’s nice to do something relaxing, don’t you think?”

  “As opposed to going to a club?” I fight a smile.

  My idea of a good time is going out in a sexy dress, taking some shots, and dancing until my feet bleed.

  Mia’s a homebody and would rather lounge in her pajamas eating ice cream out of a carton and watching Netflix.

  Don’t get me wrong, I like to chill too sometimes, but letting loose appeals to me more.

  We only live once after all—might as well have some interesting stories to tell when I’m ninety.

  “The last time we went to a club it was you
r idea for cheering me up—yet I ended up being the sober one who had to haul your drunk ass home.”

  “Point taken,” I snicker, glancing down at my newly painted toes. The shiny black polish matches the one being put on my nails.

  Mia, however, has a soft blue on her toes and now the lady paints a ballet slipper colored pink onto her nails.

  As far as appearances go, Mia and I don’t match up. She’s pale, freckled, and red-haired, as well as always dressed in the finest clothes. I have dark, nearly black, hair, my skin is several shades darker than hers, I’m almost always in full-glam makeup whereas most days she’s not bothered with more than mascara and some gloss, and my secondhand clothes definitely are not up to par with hers. But personality-wise we click. We’re both tough as nails and take no shit. I’m quicker to fly off the handle than she is, but if Mia gets pushed too far, she’ll do whatever it takes to make a stand.

  When I moved here during high school, she didn’t have any friends—not for lack of trying, but because everyone used her to get close to her dad and meet him and his band. I was the weird new girl everyone avoided. One day I sat across from her at lunch and the rest is history.

  My phone vibrates on top of the faux marble table and I lean over to glance at the screen.

  Rush: In DC with Hayes trying to be a good boy and work and all I can think about is that sweet pussy of yours and fucking you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow. Every time you move I want you to feel me.

  I can’t help myself, I squirm in my seat and smile.

  With my hand that’s not being painted I pick up my phone and respond.

  Me: Tell me more.

  “Are you sexting?” Mia asks, interrupting my thoughts. She wears a knowing smile.

  I press my lips together and then mutter, “Maybe.”

  “You so are!” She shrieks trying to snatch my phone from me.

  The woman doing her nails yells something unintelligible and Mia frowns, but stops wiggling.