Page 60 of Unleashed By Eden

Theo’s voice follows me. “Where you going?”

“Dressing room,” I throw back.

X laughs. “We have to celebrate, man. That was insane.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys later.” I toss a hand up in the air.

I don’t slow down.

Groupies call my name and a crew member tries to shove a bottle of water into my hand. But I don’t stop. Mika shifts to block my path for a different angle. I sidestep him and keep going.

I need a minute before I haul Vi into the nearest dark corner and fuck her so hard that we both forget where we are.

I take the quieter corridor to my private dressing room. The door shuts behind me, cutting off the noise, leaving only the ringing in my ears and the hammer in my chest. I strip my way to the bathroom, clothes hitting the floor in a wet trail. My hand slaps on the light, and I catch myself in the mirror.

The skin around my eyes looks wrong. There’s a faint yellow tint that wasn’t there a week ago. I squint and step closer. It’s got to be the shit lighting in here and post-show dehydration.

I look away before the worry can lodge any deeper, crank the water straight to cold, and step under the spray. I scrub hard, hands dragging over shoulders, chest, thighs, trying to wash off the show, the sweat, the yellow, the rush that won’t quit.

It doesn’t work.

I shut the spray off, wrap a towel low around my hips, and slick my hair back, out of my face.

Standing in the middle of my dressing room is Storm.

She’s got my damp singlet bunched in her hands, eyes closed, breathing me in through the fabric.

Her head lifts slowly.

Those gray eyes lock onto mine—wild, stormy, blown wide—and there’s no hiding what she’d been doing.

The towel suddenly feels very fucking optional.

I don’t move.

Neither does she.

The tension pulls tight between us, thick and hot, sucking the oxygen out of the air. I swear I can feel the ghost of her breath from across the room.

“Take your dress off.” The words scrape out of me, voice rougher than it was onstage.

“Take your fucking dress off. Now.”

The moment I say it, her response is visceral. Her inhale stutters. Her grip on the singlet tightens before she lets it drop to the floor. Her pupils flare until the gray is just a thin ring around black.

She reaches for the buttons on the front of her black dress, fingers trembling but moving fast. The dress opens and slides down her body to pool at her feet. Her black thong and bra fall onto the floor right after. She bends, boot halfway off her foot.

“Keep them on,” I instruct.

She straightens immediately, stamping her foot back into the boot, gloriously naked before me.

I’m right on the brink of fucking losing it. Having her react to my voice like this, with pure obedience and want, is a dream come true. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

“Now, get the fuck over here and sit on my face.”

She practically launches herself at me.

I catch her, hands full of her bare ass, her legs locking around my waist. Her mouth finds mine, hot and greedy, and the second my tongue slides against hers, the rest of the world just melts off the map.