Page 110 of Second Sets Omnibus
“Oh, Pretty Girl,” Rad whispers directly in my ear, wrapping his fingers around my throat. “I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life. I’m going to flood your pussy with so much come, and you’ll feel me leaking out of you for a week.” My breath hitches when he grins, kissing my cheek and tightening his grip. “Yeah, I thought you might like that. We’re going to have so much fun this weekend,” he murmurs in a deep, husky voice thick with lust.
Rad wasn’t the only one to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, working me up and letting me flatline in the land of almost orgasming. Over and over, they teased and primed me for thisexact moment to finally let me detonate. I knew every whispered word they promised would eventually come true—well, later. Asher had zero plans to help the ache between my legs right now.
“What the hell was that?” I whisper through my frustrations, searching for Asher amongst the shadows of the house.
If his touch hadn't seared into my skin five seconds ago, branding me with his fingertips, I would have sworn he was a ghost passing by.
“Don't mind him. He's fighting a lot of feelings right now,” Kieran whispers, taking me into the warmth of his arms, and resting his cheek on my head with a satisfied sigh.
“Fighting what?” I murmur, placing my ear against his heartbeat and basking in the familiarity of it.
“Everything about you. You scare him. This band is the only thing he has, and here you are, bringing us happily to our knees. He's afraid to fall. He's afraid you'll tear us apart,” Kieran murmurs, leaning into me more. “But don’t worry, River Blue. Asher’s coming around, and once he does, you’ll be all he thinks about and obsesses over. I can see it now.” A grin tips up the edges of his lips, and he nods with certainty that it will all play out how he says.
But half of me disagrees as a lump forms in my throat at Kieran’s nonchalant confession.He’s afraid you’ll tear us apart. Tear them apart? Whispered Words? They’re tighter than any family I’ve ever witnessed. There’s no way little old me would come close to being a threat. The boys are more than a band; they're a damn family unit. Has my presence disrupted that in any way? Am I doing more harm than good by being so close to each of them?
“That's stupid,” I murmur, shaking my head. “I don't plan on breaking anyone up.”
“I know, River Blue. But he's always cautious and calculating our next moves. You're a move he didn't anticipate,” he says, kissing my temple.
“But you actively set out to meet me, right?” Kieran blanches at my question and stiffens with me in his arms, giving away his true intentions.
Blowing out a breath. “Truth?” he questions, and I nod. “We wanted to meet you because of who your dad was, but I didn't expect it to be you. You were a surprise, River Blue. The truth is, I'd track you down, again and again, to be with you. No matter what.”
Kieran's confession doesn't surprise me in the least. But my heart does sting. What would have happened if I hadn't been his River Blue and was just some rando they intended on using? Would they have taken it this far and brought me here for a weekend of fun? Doubt creeps in where it shouldn't, filtering through the sliced-open cracks of my heart. In the back of my mind, I've always had my guard up around them and lived in the present. But sometimes, it does nag and tugs at me, making me re-examine every interaction.
The number of times people have come into the record shop claiming to be my brothers and wanting to talk to me is astronomical. They waltz in with a chip on their shoulder and a smarmy smile and run out like their asses are on fire, with fear lining their faces.
Let's say these persistent ass people don't like meeting the end of my knife when I whip it out and tell them to kick rocks. They'll hesitate. They'll beg, flashing me megawatt grins. Pfft. Like that shit will convince me. In the end, I shoo them out with a knife shake and a cackle. Never seeing their scammy faces ever again. Seriously, who is afraid of a five-foot-five girl holding a knife? Apparently, those jokers. But good thing.
People hear the West name and go bonkers with greed, wanting to meet with my sperm donor in person. For some reason, they always think I'm that person. Sure, I am a West, but I'm not connected to shit. My brothers, possibly sisters, and father—are strangers to me. One day though, I’ll waltz into their operations and introduce myself after I’ve lifted myself out of poverty and have made it as some big-wig manager. Then they’ll see and regret the day they blew off River West.
I always wanted to distance myself from my family and run from the West namesake. But family is everything. I couldn't have gotten through the last few days or weeks without my mom, Ode, and her family—hell, even the boys. Helping the guys has shown me that music lives and runs in my veins. I've nailed many of the challenges a business career could throw at me.
Managing a music venue—check. Building a band's social profiles—check. Managing a band—check.
“Well, now we're hopefully going to California,” I say, leaning back to look at him, dreaming of our future at the tips of our fingers, ready for grasping.
Well, maybe. They may have submitted their application to the Battle of the Bands, but it still has to be reviewed and announced, which should be coming up in the next week or two. For now, we sit on the edges of our seats in anticipation of what will come.
“We're definitely going. There's no question about it,” Kieran proclaims. “They're going to beat down our doors to get a piece of us.” I snort at his confidence but revel in it, too. Whispered Words is good—well—more than fucking good. They're unique and saturated in raw talent that the world will eat up and take hostage. I can only imagine what people across the globe will think when their ears feast on Whisper Words’ tunes.
“Will you go anyway?” I ask, biting my bottom lip. The question has been on the tip of my tongue for weeks. And whywouldn’t they? They’re free to live their dreams and leave this hellhole, even if I’m not a part of the equation.
His palms lightly encase my cheeks, holding me still as his mismatched eyes examine the sadness taking over my face. The thought of separating from them sends pain across my chest. Rubber bands constrict around my lungs, and panic soon settles into my soul. Never in my life did I think I'd want to depend on anyone again; yet, I am right back down the love… rabbit hole. The same damn place I refused to return to after Van obliterated my trust and crushed my cracked heart into pieces. It took me months to get over the sudden breakup. I mean, obviously. I still let that bastard slither between my legs when I was supposed to be working.
The front door bursts open with a loud bang reverberating off the tall, vaulted ceilings, and Rad and Callum's loud laughter and chatter fill the space. Noisy plastic bags rustle in their hands, but I can't drag my eyes away from Kieran as he stands tall. Those mismatched eyes take all of me in. From the tips of my toes to my heaving chest and finally gaze longingly into my eyes.
“We'll wait for you, River Blue, to finish whatever you have to do at home. You're in school and…”
“Fuck no,” I say, swallowing the pain of my words. “You guys have to take the opportunity now. You can't wait.” I shake my head in his grip, refusing to believe they’d wait around for me when something so spectacular has been laid before them. As much as I want them by my side, I can’t destroy their dreams.
“That's right, we will, Pretty Girl! You're our girlfriend.” My lips pop open to refute his proclamation, but I hold my tongue. That fact is, I am their damn girlfriend by now—all of them—even the evil one who refuses to show me how he feels. Wrinkling my nose, I glare at a grinning Rad, who zeros in on my unsaid realization with a knowing look.
“Fuck yes! You finally get it, don't you? We'll wait for you if you can't make it to California. Maybe we'll try the Chicago circuit. They're always looking for new talent, and it's only two hours away,” Rad says with a grin, grunting when he sets the groceries down on the kitchen counters.
“We'll-we'll wait for you,” Callum says with conviction, setting more bags down and rifles through them.
Finally, Asher comes into view, frowning at the island in front of the groceries, lost in thought. A crinkle takes over his forehead, and the color slowly drains from his face. His eyes shift between the boys and finally land on me, where something odd sparks but extinguishes just as quickly.
