Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
“Fucking hell, beautiful,” I groan, making her giggle as she snuggles close to me.
“Not too amateur?”
“Uh, no,” I groan. “That was all pro.”
She laughs. “I’m not sure if calling a girl, a ‘pro’ at that is a compliment.”
I chuckle, pulling her close.
“It really was okay?” she says softly.
“Zara, that was beyond okay. That was fucking incredible.”
I kiss her slow and deep, the both of us melting together as she moans into my mouth.
“How the hell did I find you again?” I purr into her lips.
“A classified ad in a coffee shop.”
I laugh deeply as she grins at me, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss my lips.
“Okay, should we go play this show?”
“Hell yes,” I growl, kissing her once more as I start to pull my jeans back up. She does the same, her cheeks going red as she catches me watching her hungrily as she slips her panties back up over her pussy.
“Rain check on… you know,” she blushes.
“On what I wouldn’t do in a parking lot for your first time?”
She nods.
“Baby girl,” I growl, pulling her close. “Nothing on this earth could stop me from doing that with you, when the time is right.”
“Good,” she says softly, kissing me. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“Fuck I hope so,” I growl back.
She grins, pulling away and turning to climb into the Range Rover. She giggles as I give her tight little ass a spank on the away, closing the door before I walk around to the driver’s side and climb in.
The engine roars to life, my hand reaches across the console to entangle with hers, and then we’re off.
Me and my little rock n’ roll queen.
9
Zara
So, I’ve never actually been high, but as the music flows out of us up on that stage, God does it feel like I am. Or, at least what I imagine being high is like. It’s like I’m flying—soaring, really. Because when we walk out onto that stage, the rush hits us all like a tidal wave.
There’s not five people here to see us.
…There’s more like five-hundred.
Griffin’s uncle’s friend’s bar isn’t even a “bar” like we imagined. It’s a damn rock club that happens to have a bar. I won’t lie, when we first step out and face the sea of faces looking at us, there’s a moment of fear. There’s a second of shock, where the “fight or flight” natural impulse takes hold, ready to sway one way or the other.
But then, we all glance at each other, grin, and just like that, we’re ready. Flight isn’t an option, we fight. And when we play, we fucking rock. The words pour out of my mouth, and it just feels so natural and so real. Yeah, I’m reading from a lyric book like an amateur, and we’re all sort of hacking our way through the chord progressions we’ve written out quickly backstage, but people are freaking out about it.
We play the one song from the other night, and then a cover of Prince’s When Doves Cry. And then we knock our way through three more songs from my lyric book. We misstep a few times, the parts go out of sync here and there, but when the crowd realizes we’re literally writing songs live on stage, they lose their shit about it, cheering and whooping going wild as we play.
And when we’re done, and we all join hands for a big bow, the rush of that moment and the wave of applause washing over us is a feeling I know I’ll never forget.
We tumble backstage, and with the rush still blazing through my veins, I squeal as I jump into all of their arms, the four of us jumping around in shock and amazement as we try and process what just happened. It was amazing, and incredible, and the four of us fit together so freaking perfectly, I can’t even really describe it. It felt so natural, and real, and effortless, and I know I’m not the only one feeling that.
With the adrenaline still pounding through my veins, and with hugging them like I am, it feels natural when suddenly I press my lips to Anders and just start to kiss him slowly. I pull away, my skin tingling and my blood like fire inside as I turn and do the same Griffin, kissing him slow and deep and melting into those huge arms. Carson’s next, a fire in his eyes as he draws me close, his hand sliding around my waist as our mouths sear together.
And you know what? Screw it. I don’t even care how insane it is for me to be doing what I’m doing with all three of them. Because I know how I feel, and I know how real and natural all of this feels.
We haul our stuff out back through the loading dock, packing the van in silence before we all climb in—the four of us all squished together on the big front bench seat.