Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(14)

Blank pages.

No surprise.

I cradled my black electric guitar. She was my baby, after all. My favorite. My constant companion. She was a little beat up, worn down by the road, like she’d witnessed a whole lifetime condensed into a six-year blur of cities and shows and passing, forgettable faces.

A whole lot like me.

Ash’s attention flew my way. Blue eyes overflowed with excitement, as if he’d been suddenly struck with a well of inspiration.

“Hell yeah. I got it. Know exactly what we’re missing. It’s the vibe, man. This old house? She’s been barren for years. Needs some life breathed into her. A heartbeat. Let’s christen her…best f*ckin’ party this city’s ever seen. I mean, a real rager. The kind that will go down in rock ‘n’ roll history. Make it legendary. Introduce these old walls to what music really feels like. Songs will start flowing from us.”

Scratch the inspiration thing.

Ash was just being Ash.

I huffed out a sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes like a thirteen-year-old girl. Considering Ash was acting like a kid, he deserved it. Problem was, I was usually game, the first to step to his antics. But since the second I got back, I just hadn’t been feeling it.

“Or maybe it’s just you storming in here with all your negativity,” he accused, looking like he wanted to throw out a pout because I was raining on the goddamned parade the guy never stopped marching in.

“Who the hell pissed in your Cheerios, anyway?” He eyed me over the bottle as he took a long pull, eyes narrowed in speculation. “You not make it back with those two chicks last night? Because that looked exactly like your kind of poison.”

I shot him a scowl. “Did you not see us leaving together?”

A grin that came completely at my expense took over his face. “Hey, man, a girl can always come to her senses.”

“Believe me, neither of them had any sense to find.”

“Hmmm,” he mused, obviously not going to disagree with that logic. He took another drink before he tilted the bottle my direction, like we were playing get to the bottom of Lyrik’s piss-poor mood. “Couldn’t get it up?”

“Fuck you, man.” That was just damned offensive. And it wasn’t even close to being the issue. Sick part? I’d gotten it up fantasizing about Red, blood roaring south when I thought about tracing the sexy tattoo that covered up the whole outside of her left thigh with my fingers, my mouth watering when I moved on to imagining doing it with my tongue.

There was something about the tattoo, the bright red apple with the serpent twisted around it, that had me wanting to dive in, dig deep into this girl and find out all her secrets.

Get dirty with her.

Shit.

Ash cracked the most victorious smile. “Ah, man, sounds like we are talking about my Tam Tam.”

That time it wasn’t a question. It was shoot, sink, score.

And his Tam Tam?

I couldn’t stop the scowl.

Catching my expression, the * f*cking howled like a banshee, laughter ricocheting against the walls as he slapped his knee. Punk ass couldn’t catch his breath as he tried to speak.

“That…holy shit…now that was legendary. Couldn’t top that if I tried. God, I think I might have fallen just a little bit in love with her last night. Anyone brave enough to pull a stunt like that on the likes of you? That one’s a dream. Hotter than shit, too.”

Mention of her had me gritting my teeth.

And kinda wanting to take him by the throat.

Still couldn’t believe she’d slipped me that drink. At first, I’d thought she was finally stepping up to play when really she was just inciting a war. Truth was, I’d had no intention of taking those girls home.

Not that I owed Red anything.

Wouldn’t owe a girl. Not ever again.

But my thoughts had been too worked up on her, my skin still itching with the lust she’d caused to pulse through my veins, the need to get lost in all that flesh and seduction, eyes the color of heaven, body like she’d been summoned directly from hell.

Temptation.

Hadn’t felt it so strong since the night I’d given in and lost it all.

Ash tsked. “Should have known you were up to no good last night when you claimed needing to take a piss and didn’t come back for twenty minutes. You were just asking for it. Hasn’t that girl shot you down enough? I mean, seriously, that ego of yours has got to be hurtin’. When’s the last time the Lyrik West heard the word no?”

“I have zero problems with my ego.”

At least when I compared it to the size of his.

“And I was just talking to her.”

The expression contorting his face said it all. Are you kidding me? Remember who you’re talking to.

I’d willingly admit to myself I’d crossed a line, sucking those delicious fingers into my mouth, pressing the heat of her hand against my straining body and wondering just how far she’d let me take it. It’d been a desperate measure, really, me begging her to put us out of this misery, because honestly, I was ready to get this girl off my mind before she made me lose it.

That was part of the problem. No matter how many times I asked her to, the girl just wouldn’t tell me no. It was like she got off on the chase.

But after that drink?

Bringing those two chicks back to my place was the obvious revenge. And this morning had presented the perfect opportunity to drive it home just that much harder. To make a point she was the one suffering by her shunning the attraction that blazed between us.