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I slam through the front door of the band house and beeline it toward the beach behind my home. Nothing says refreshing like yelling at the ocean at midnight until your throat is raspy and your emotions are spent. It’s the remedy to my problems. For now, at least.
As soon as the warm night air hits my skin, everything crumbles. My facade. My walls. My fucking hormones. I’m in shambles. Reeling from the effects of being in their presence. How can four men wreck me so damn hard without even trying to?
Who said being a badass HBIC was easy? Commanding Whispered Words on what to do while performing on stage is hard as fuck. I’m feeling the after-effects of watching them for hours.
Vivid memories of their hands running down their bare chests as they whipped their shirts off and tossed them in my direction. Always at me. Never the screaming girls. Whether I was standing just off stage or in the front row, they made sure their shirts were mine. Sweat-soaked and all.
God fucking damn it. My head spins, weaving a mess of webs in my mind. Should I jump in headfirst, or should I just let them be fathers? It rattles around in my messed-up brain, pushing me further down the rabbit hole.
My broken heart is slowly stitching together piece by piece. They’re the menders of my soul. How fucking ironic, huh? The men who broke it are now fixing it with the little things. It’s always the fucking little things.
We’ve talked. Cried. Yelled. Argued. Raised our voices. Every bit of healing conversation has been present. The sorrys and stepping up are all there. They’re taking therapy extra seriously, too, which surprised the hell out of me. I never expected the guys to willingly talk to a stranger. I knew it would benefit them, especially after learning about their upbringing. Hell, Asher even goes into her office an additional time each week, and Kieran tags along.
Yet, I remember the way I felt when they walked away. They fucking eviscerated me. My heart literally shattered in my chest, turning into tiny fragments of what I once was and numbing me for so long. I tried every day to forget their existence. Whispered Words, who? But it never worked. Every time I felt Lyric kick inside me, I was reminded of who helped put her there. And the moment I finally saw her eyes, I fucking broke in half.
Three of them had no clue what trap they were falling into. Only one knew the truth this whole time. He’s the man suffering the most with the remnants of his bruises and the alienation.
He’s also trying, too.
How can I be so damn conflicted on something so simple? Do I trust them again, or do I take my chances? Do I drown them in the sea, or keep them afloat?
“Fuckkkkkkkkk!” I shout into the night sky as I stand at the edge of the sea. “Give me a damn sign. Give me something!” I roar at the sparkling stars. They give nothing back. “I just don’t know what to do or how to feel—” I trail off, sinking my teeth into my lip. “I just want to know what to do with the future.”
Stepping forward, I sigh when the cool water soaks through my shoes. Shivers burst up my spine the moment the water retreats and then splashes me again.
My head falls back, and I groan, counting the dots in the sky.
It’s times like these that I’m thankful for my family. They may have come later in life, but I feel more loved and adored than I did throughout my entire childhood.
Kaycee let Lyric come over for a three-day sleepover so I could take care of business with the boys. Not only did it give me free time to reflect on all this bullshit, but I didn’t have to worry about Ly. She’s safe with her cousins, aunt, and uncles.
And I’m here. Horny and miserable. How could my life get any worse?
Looking out into the soft waves of the dark ocean, I take a deep breath. I’ve got this. Tits up and all that good badass girl shit. I’ll navigate through these muddy waters as best I can. After I change my now wet shoes and pants, that is. As therapeutic as screaming at the sky was, it doesn’t solve a damn thing.
I huff, walking up the beach toward my house, getting sand in and on my damn shoes. With a grunt, I toss them on the back porch with a mental note to clean them later.
After securing my home and taking a hot shower, I grab a tall glass of white wine, open my window, and stand in the middle of my bed naked.
The beautiful sound of the waves crashing against the sand filters through my room, relaxing every inch of my body.
The soft, warm breeze brushes against my bare skin as I close the curtains and secure the wedge so no one can push the window open further. You know, like my stalker who looms in the back of my mind. Always there. Every step I take, I swear he’s behind me, watching my every move and taking pictures. I shudder at the thought but try not to let him rule my life. I’m vigilant with everything I do. House alarm. Locking my doors. Having a guard at the end of the drive. I know he’s been in here before, invading my damn privacy. But I won’t allow some pussy coward, who hangs in the shadows, to steal my peace from me. This is my home. My haven.
I nibble my lip. At some point, I’m going to have to clue the guys in on what’s been happening to me. I have a stalker. He takes pictures of me. Follows me around like a lost puppy dog but never shows his damn face. Fuck. How can I tell them? Do I sit them down for a meeting and casually throw it out there? No. I can’t. It’ll change everything once they find out. They’ll look at me differently and… I’m not ready for that.
I groan at the pent-up tension coiling in the pit of my stomach, begging me to unleash the feeling. My thighs tighten, and my breaths pick up as I imagine laying back in bed and relieving myself to the images of the boys across the street.
I chug the last of my wine, setting the glass down on my end table. Plopping on my bed, I reach over and open the drawer beside me with a grin. Oh yes, this will do.
“There you are,” I murmur, pulling my rose-shaped vibrator out. Energy hums through me, prepping my body for the orgasm I’m about to bless it with. “I’ve missed you,” I murmur, aching to kiss it in relief.
Lying back on the bed, I settle myself on my pillows with a loud sigh. The cool sheets encase me in their grasp as my eyes flutter shut.
My imagination ignites into naughty fantasies as the little rose rapidly thumps against my aching clit, begging for sweet relief. Bring on the orgasm that’s been building for the past three days.
Fire roars through my veins as images pour through my mind at a rapid pace. A moan slips from my lips as I reach down and plunge my fingers into my pussy, pumping them in and out.
The vibrations around my clit send liquid lust straight through me. My back bows when my head falls back into the pillow. Moan after moan fills the room, and I’m panting, mentally begging for the real thing. Loud, thumping footfalls stop me in my tracks just outside my window. My heart plummets into my ass. My worst fears are coming true. Visions of my stalker standing outside my window, listening to me getting myself off have me recoiling. Until I hear my stalker’s voice just outside my window…
