Home > The Rocker Who Cherishes Me (The Rocker #8)(37)

The Rocker Who Cherishes Me (The Rocker #8)(37)
Author: Terri Anne Browning

It physically hurt, but I quickly pulled from her just as my own release jetted forward, spraying across her still quivering stomach. With a sated groan, I dropped down onto her, crushing her beneath me, rubbing my semen into the both of us.

For long moments I lay there, her soft fingertips caressing up and down my back while our breathing slowly evened out. I wanted to stay right there, with her in my arms, her come still dripping onto the sheets beneath us, for the rest of our lives…

The pounding on the wall beside Marissa’s roost had my head snapping up, the urge to murder never more powerful than in that moment. “What?” I bellowed.

“Er…” I heard Zander snicker on the other side of the curtain and my irritation heightened. “If you have finished defiling Rissa, you might want to come out and explain your intentions to her brother. Liam’s about to go off the rails after hearing that award-winning performance, dude.”

Marissa made a distressed sound, her hands leaving my back to cover her flaming face. I wasn’t worried about Liam. I could deal with him later. But Zander was going to pay for embarrassing my girl. My arm shot through the curtain of the roost and grabbed him by the throat. “You go tell Liam I’ll be out when I’m good and ready. But first, apologize to Marissa.”

I felt Zander’s throat move as he swallowed. He was the goof ball of the five of us, but he knew when he had crossed a line with me. And he had just crossed the biggest line of all. “Sorry, Rissa,” he called through the curtain. No way was I going to let him stick his head inside and see her deity-worthy nakedness.

His apology didn’t satisfy me but I released him. My gaze went straight to Marissa’s red face. That blush was adorable on her, but I hated the reason for it. With her in my arms, I’d forgotten that we were on some highway traveling at over seventy miles an hour with a bus full of people that would be all too amused with the show we had just put on for them. The one thing I’d learned fast about rockers? They could be very juvenile at times. Zander was possibly the biggest one of all, but I couldn’t kill him for it. At least that was what I kept telling myself.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I forgot that people were around and could actually hear us,” I said.

Slowly Marissa dropped her hands, shaking her head at the roost above us. The smile on her face caught me completely off guard though. I hadn’t seen that particular smile, the one that was so full of life and love and perfection, in so long. It caused my heart to clench, remembering that I was the reason why it hadn’t been present in so long. “I’m curious to know what you plan on telling Li. What are your intentions, Wroth Niall?”

I couldn’t help but snort at her question. I had a million and one intentions and a million of them required a bed and privacy. The remaining one… Well, I was a little old school when it came to that remaining one. I needed to talk to Liam first and then and only then would I tell her.

Chapter 12

Wroth

I was still feeling sated from my morning with Marissa when I walked backstage with my bandmates later that night, getting ready for the concert. Demon’s Wings was still on stage. Nik was getting the fans riled up, knowing that getting them to chant their name would get Axton’s blood pumping.

Emmie appeared from the side of the stage, one arm holding onto her clip board while she texted rapidly with her free hand. “You guys ready?” she asked, only looking up from her phone once she had hit send. Her eyes went to Axton first and she rolled her big green eyes at him. “Get over it, Ax. He gets off on pissing you off when you close the show.”

“One more song!” Nik shouted on stage.

Twenty thousand fans screamed so loudly that the stage vibrated. The first note coming from Drake’s Fender filled the air, and the screaming suddenly quietened as he started with a solo that produced goose bumps on my own arms.

Emmie glanced back out on stage, smiled happily and then turned to go. I caught her elbow as she started to walk away. Her eyes widened when she looked up at me. “Hey,” she said and grinned. “What’s up?”

“Can you do something for me?” If possible, her eyes widened even more. Yeah, I didn’t normally seek out her help, but there were things that I wanted done that I just didn’t know how to accomplish. It was a first for me. I wanted this perfect though, and Emmie could move mountains when she had to.

“Of course,” she readily agreed. “What do you need?”

I glanced back at my bandmates and grimaced. I didn’t want nor need the grief they would give me if they overheard what I needed Emmie to do. “Can you wait for me after the show? I need it done in the next few weeks. Definitely before we get to Kansas.”

Emmie nodded. “I’ll be waiting right here,” she promised.

The fans were still chanting Demon’s Wings’ name when we stepped onto stage after it was turned over and we did another quick sound check. For the next hour we performed, and I played for the masses as they turned from chanting Demon’s Wings to OtherWorld within the span of one song. If Drake had ended with a guitar solo, then I was sure as hell going to start with one.

When it was over I was soaked with sweat. The lights that shone down on us throughout a show were worse than the noon sun in the desert. The stage was littered with red roses, panties and bras, and pieces of paper that professed fans’ love and desire for us. The roses were all picked up, but no one bothered to pick up the underwear or the love letters. Zander was the only single one of us now, and he’d never been one for collecting bras and panties. He’d rarely ever hooked up at concerts, but always went out afterwards to local clubs or bars to find someone to spend the night with.

Like always, Axton didn’t speak after the concert was over. His throat was probably a ball of fire after that last song. I carefully handed my favorite Fender over to Pock, the roadie who was in charge of taking care of my guitars, and stepped off stage. Emmie was standing right where I’d left her with her phone to one ear. Green eyes were narrowed as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the call.

I stood back, not wanting to interrupt her. I might have stood a good foot over her, and outweighed her by a hundred-plus pounds but she still terrified the shit out of me. One glare from those startling green eyes and she could freeze me in my tracks. She had more balls than any man I’d ever met, more intelligence than most people would ever dream of having. Emmie Armstrong was one of the most trusted names in the rock-n-roll world, and she was also one of the most feared if you happened to be on her shit list.

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