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When I flip open the cover, there’s a pocket lining the inside. My fingers run over the small rope closure. I bet this is for little cards or notes, maybe tags or tickets to shows or movies.
“I love it. It’s a perfect gift.” I carefully grab everything, shove it into the box, and put it on the coffee table. “Thank you.”
Warrick’s dark eyes stare into mine. His hand rests on my hip and the other on the back of my head. He’s so damn gruff and manly. My impulses scream to bare my neck to him.
I lick my lips, and he pulls me forward. He guides my hip, telling me to stretch up, and I do. He still has to bend low before his mouth can meet mine. I kind of attack him with little coordination, but he chuckles, sliding his tongue around mine in a sensual way that makes my thighs clench. He nips at my lower lip, tugging it with his teeth.
I freaking shiver in response.
Holy hell.
Warrick knows exactly how to drive me insane. His scent gets even more potent, and it makes my pussy throb. He’s so tall, I think I’m grinding over his pelvis just to be able to reach him for the kiss. His tongue teases mine as he holds me in a way that makes my impulses light up.
If I was a puppy, then my tail would be wagging.
We both pull back to catch our breaths, and he pecks a final kiss on my lips before marking each of my cheeks with his scent.
He squeezes my hip and laughs. “Don’t forget, pretty girl. I still owe you a birthday spanking.”
“A-Any time,” I stutter, my gaze falling to his lap. I used to get picked on a lot for it, but it’s gotten more manageable over the years. I really only stutter now when I’m overly excited or anxious.
“Let’s not rush things. I want to enjoy the slow buildup.” He bumps my cheek with his until I look up at him. There’s just enough raw sexual desire that my embarrassment melts away. My impulses settle as his massive hand runs up and down my spine.
* * *
The show tonight is an early call time. We’ll be driving to the next city as soon as they’re done with their responsibilities here. We get to spend a few days in a fancy hotel to celebrate Thanksgiving, then they’ll have their show before we have to leave again.
It really is disorienting. All the cities are starting to blur together in a way I never expected. Before we left, I was sure I’d get the chance to view some landmarks or go sightseeing, but that was an unrealistic expectation.
A big security guy named Steve stands at my back as I test out my new lens and grip. He’s kind of a mountain ofnope, find yourself somewhere else to stand. I really appreciate it. I’m not getting tossed around like I did that first night.
Women and a few men with special backstage passes still crowd around, screaming and catcalling.
Ramsey is always at the back of the stage since he’s on drums. I catch him looking over at me repeatedly during their last set. His tattooed forearms flex as he bounces between the drums and the cymbals. He’s got his hair half up and half down, and it falls around his face as he moves.
I snap pictures, trying to catchthe one.Sometimes it’s luck, other times it’s the dedication of taking a hundred pictures in three minutes, but I’ll have to see what they look like when I clean them up. He’s a gorgeous man; there’s no doubt about his appeal.
I’ve always liked Northern Star’s music, but I probably wouldn’t have come to a concert without this opportunity presenting itself. Even I have to admit the energy is unreal. I’m not sure if I’m getting used to the chaos, or maybe I have a false sense of security since Steve is with me. I can’t wait to see what this set of photos looks like.
Fitz flicks the long hair on the top of his head back while singing into the microphone, and my stomach flutters. He knows just how to play to the fans to make the women shriek. I’ve never really gotten the whole rock star appeal, but Warrick steps up, and I officially get it. He and Carter end up back-to-back, both strumming their guitars, and all I can focus on are War’s arms flexing as he plays the hell out of the song. His dark hair falls around his face as he focuses on his guitar.
It kind of makes me want to pounce on him and make him kiss me again, like he did earlier today.
They separate.
Warrick spins around on his boot, kicking out a leg as he tilts the guitar, and it makes my knees a little weak.
I am absolutely a convert to the Northern Star fan club.
Shit, I didn’t get a picture. It’s rare to see Carter and Warrick close enough to get them in one frame.
My nostrils flare, and it’s like my body knows Warrick’s sweaty scent is right there, just out of reach. I don’t know what’s going on. My hormones are out of control.
One of the women in the audience screams and flashes her breasts. My eyes widen. This is normal for rock stars. They see this kind of thing all the time. I wonder if they do that with married or bonded musicians.
My impulses feel very sure I should claw that woman’s eyes out.
Has an omega ever successfully committed murder before? Probably. Unfortunately, I don’t have that much faith in my skills, but it’s tempting.
