He’s fucking stunning, even in the dark.

  Especially in the dark.

  “I didn’t run,” I say, furious at the shake in my voice as he watches me with a predatory intensity.

  “You did run. And I think I know why.”

  “You know nothing—”

  “I wanted you—needed you—and you wanted me too, didn’t you, Eric?”

  Backed into a corner, wild and angry, my snarl contorts my entire face. “Go to hell, Dmitri.” My words struggle to escape through my tightly gritted teeth. “And take your narcissistic theories with you.”

  He continues like I didn’t say a goddamned word. “But you were too fucking scared to admit that what we had was bigger than some stupid crush, and you panicked. Instead of accepting that maybe we could’ve been something, you shut me out. But we wouldn’t have been something, baby, we would’ve been everything—”

  My loud growl echoes off the metal walls as I lurch forward and slam my mouth against his. He grunts in surprise before pushing my body with his, never separating our mouths as my back meets the wall again. His lips are aggressive as he kisses me, his hand sliding from the wall to my jaw as he grips me and positions me where he wants me.

  And this…

  This is what I’ve been missing.

  This isn’t some sweet, gentle kiss; it’s a face-off… a battle for dominance.

  The culmination of every explosive feeling we’ve been harboring for years.

  His thumb digs into my chin as he pries my lips apart, his mouth working in tandem with his hand to get what he wants. Coaxing me to open further, he forces me to give him room as his tongue slips into my mouth.

  A loud moan leaves my throat, fighting to free itself even as I try to hold back. My tongue meets his on a clash, another desperate sound escaping as we lick and suck at each other. We fight for the advantage, pushing and forcing our way into each other’s mouth, each of us trying to gain control of this raging fire.

  Pretending we’re not both about to burn alive.

  My hands find their way to his lower back, fisting his shirt and tugging him closer.

  His natural smell is heightened by his sweat, and I’m surrounded by the masculine, woody scent. For only the second time in my life, I experience the roughness of his stubble grazing my cheek, the strength of his grip, and the sheer magnitude of his presence confirming without a doubt that this is a man in my arms.

  Not just a man.

  Dmitri.

  Everything about it screams right.

  And that pisses me off even more.

  I suck on his bottom lip and bite down, sinking my teeth into him until he calls out and pushes away. He only gets a few inches between us because of my grip on him, and I watch in the dim lighting as he lifts his hand to his mouth and wipes. His tongue darts over his swollen lip as he glances at the smear of blood on his fingers, and then his eyes slam back into mine.

  Anger, coupled with an undeniable lust, blazes inside them.

  Before he can make another move, I spin us both around, forcefully throwing him backwards. His grunt is stunned as his body hits the wall with a thud. One of my hands weaves through his hair, still damp with sweat, and yanks him back to my mouth.

  Coppery blood joins the taste of his lips as he moans, pushing his tongue into my mouth while giving mine a gentle suck. The hand that clutches his shirt tugs him closer, and I groan at the sensation of him hard against me.

  Both his hands land on my ass cheeks, and he uses them to guide me until we’re lined up, cocks sliding against each other through the denim of our jeans. Pleasure like I’ve never known jettisons through my body, and I double down. Another loud, desperate sound leaves me as I throw my weight into him, pinning him in place.

  “Fuck, Eric,” he moans, tearing his mouth from mine. “Wait.”

  “No,” I growl, slipping my hand under his shirt to the overheated skin of his back. He lets out a noise that makes my hair stand up on end, a helpless whimper that escapes his lips as he thrusts his hips forward, completely lost in the moment.

  “Goddamnit, Eric, wait… talk to me,” he manages to grunt out, but I just shake my head and tighten my grip in his hair. I pull until I know it burns, urging his lips back to mine. Another desperate groan passes between our mouths, and then his fingers clamp onto my chin and force my lips off his.

  “That fucking hurt,” he growls, his fingertips digging in until his nails push into my flesh.

  I yank on his hair again as his lip rips up in a snarl. “Good,” I spit back at him, and then it’s my turn to shout as his fingernails scrape down the sides of my chin, leaving angry ditches in their wake. He uses his grip to pull me to him, kissing me with bruising pressure.

  Lost in the intensity of our lips and tongues moving together, I fall into him again, gasping and pulling away when he gives a stinging nip to my upper lip.

  He rolls us until I’m pinned, and his hand around my jaw pushes my head up and back. Pressed against the column of my neck, his mouth leaves a trail of hot breath as I fumble in the darkness, blindly searching for the friction of his body against mine. “Eric, stop,” he pleads.

  “What, you don’t want me now?” Malice drips from my every word, even as I pant and writhe beneath his touch, craving it desperately.

  “I’ve always wanted you,” he whispers, and fury rolls through my veins once more.

  “No,” I snarl, twisting my body to break free from his hold and shoving him back a few steps. I charge forward, my adrenaline pumping as I push him with all my strength, causing him to stumble and collide with the wall behind him. “You don’t get to do that.”

  I catch him by the waistband of his jeans, fingers curling around the coarse denim, and fingertips grazing the skin of his groin.

  He barks out a low, “fuck,” as I grab the nape of his neck and force his mouth back to mine. With a flick of my fingers, I unbutton his pants, and my name rolls off his tongue once more, but he’s no longer arguing.

  He’s begging.

  A loud zip cuts through the room as I undo his fly. My hand slips into the front of his jeans, palm flat against his hard length behind his underwear. Even under my large hand, he’s huge. My whole body is on fire at the feel of him, solid as granite and desperate, all because of me.

  At this moment, it doesn’t matter that I’ve never done this before. I’m not worried about doing something wrong or making a fool of myself. The trembling hunger I have for him far surpasses any inadequacy in my experience.

  Just having his cock against my hand has me so worked up that I could come from this alone.

  My palm slides up his length, and he hisses at the pressure as I rub him over his boxer briefs. I stroke down and then up again, and another whimper escapes him.

  I can’t tear my eyes away from his face, watching his every reaction.

  My thumb wiggles through the front opening, both of us groaning when I find the velvet skin underneath. I glide up to his tip and swipe through the wetness gathered there before I start stroking again.

  With my thumb against his bare cock and my fingers gripping around the fabric barrier, I give him a few slow, intentional strokes. He rocks into my grip, head thrown back against the wall in complete surrender. A few more pumps and he’s tensing, and I become aware of the slight pulsing under my fingers.

  Another swipe over his crown has pre-cum soaking my thumb, and I squeeze harder for a few more drawn-out strokes. His hips tense and drive forward, and his mouth drops open in a gasp. “Wait, Eric, fuck… fuck…”

  Over and over, I stroke his entire length, causing his cock to thicken and pound as I jerk him with a steady rhythm. His hand shoots out to grab my wrist, a futile attempt to stop me, but with a feral snarl, I seize it and pin it against the wall. His head whips back and forth as he thrusts into my hand, and a gasping exhale escapes from his lips.

  He’s dancing on the edge, completely at my mercy.

  As I glide upwards, his dick jumps, and his entire body shutters on the downward stroke. “Oh fuck,” he grunts as I slide to the tip again, and then his cock starts wildly jerking against my palm as his whole world splinters.

  He’s loud as he comes, groaning and moaning as I continue stroking his thumping cock. Wet, warm heat from his release spreads across the fabric of his underwear and covers both of us as he falls apart, still thrusting against my hand.

  Reality crashes around me when his eyes meet mine, full of lust and unfiltered affection.

  I’m so hard it’s painful, and it probably wouldn’t take more than a few touches for me to fly over the edge with him. But as memories flood me, forcing me into the past, the pain tightens its barbs in my heart, and I let go of him.

  Let go. The thought is a cold splash of water, instantly sobering me.

  I have to let go.

  Stepping back, a tornado of emotions swirls in my mind, wreaking havoc as I behold the breathtaking disaster in front of me. Cheeks flushed and eyes wild, pants undone, covered in his own release because of me.

  His desperate attempt to reach for me only causes me to retreat further, the anguish and confusion in his eyes leaving me shattered.

  It breaks me, and I fucking hate it.

  “Eric?” he mutters, reaching for me again.

  “Now you get to know how it feels,” I say, voice flat and completely devoid of the emotion that churns in my gut. Before he can see through my mask, before he can give chase, I do what I do best.

  I turn and I run.

  6

  Nine days.

  Nine days have gone by since Eric cornered me in that supply room. Since the aggression and goddamned desperation of his kiss, the heat and hardness of his body, fitting against me like the missing piece of my soul.

  Nine fucking days since I lost my mind watching him walk away.

  I was right behind him—of course I was. In the seconds it took for me to snap into action, he had fled. Even after I jumped in my truck and raced after him, he was long gone.

  Four calls and seven texts messages were left unanswered and unread. If Dante hadn’t specifically insisted Eric keep my number unblocked, I’d think he’d just cut me off. Severed my means of contacting him.

  As it is, he’s content to simply ignore me instead, which is light-years worse.

  Anger and frustration dig into me like thorns when I relive that night, but they take a backseat to the clawing desire to have him in my arms.

  I crave him.

  And Eric?

  He’s completely ignoring me.

  Again.

  For the second time in my life, I find myself consumed with this maddening man who loves nothing more than to give me the cold shoulder. He is strategic during practice, always positioning himself among the group, making it impossible for me to catch him alone.

  He uses them as a shield, hiding behind his safety in numbers.

  We’ve only had one other gig, a few nights ago. My original tactic didn’t work, though. Even after I volunteered to return the equipment, I found the studio empty and the gear that I knew Eric had packed into his SUV was missing.

  When I showed up for practice today, it was magically all there again.

  He waited me out.

  And God, it fucking hurts that he won’t talk to me.

  Prior to that night in the storage room, I was already upset by the giant question mark surrounding his resentment towards me, but now?

  Now that I’ve felt him under my hands, tasted his lips?

  I’m in a perpetual state of hysteria, zigzagging between hot and cold. Emotions I spent years subduing are now chained to me, holding me prisoner under their weight.

  The once iron-clad control I have always prided myself on is precariously hanging on, my temper on a hair trigger and sleep nothing more than an elusive concept.

  Maybe I’m actually going crazy, I think as I slide into my truck, watching Eric as he chats with Tai and Theo. He’s laid back and relaxed, not a care in the world, and me?

  Shaking like a junky in need of a fix.

  Eventually he climbs into his SUV, and I don’t allow myself to second guess it as I fall in line behind him. A cautious distance between us, I’m careful not to lose sight of him in the hazy glow of the dusky light. Trying not to think about the obsessive tendencies I’m showing right now, I follow.

  What’s some light stalking amongst friends, after all?

  When he pulls into a convenience store parking lot, I turn behind him and park a few rows away. Doubt and guilt wage war in my head as I absentmindedly rub my thumb over my wrist.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Dmitri?” I groan under my breath as I shove my hands through my hair.

  This isn’t me.

  But as I watch the light catch on the golden waves of his hair, I can’t find it in myself to be sorry that I’m here. Even as he disappears inside, my indecision keeps me rooted in place. Six agonizing minutes, I debate whether to confront him or leave with my pride intact.

  Movement catches my eye as he leaves the store, and the high-pitched squeal of his name rings through the lot. A tall brunette dashes towards him, causing his head to snap up in surprise. A huge grin spreads across his face as he pulls her into a warm, tight hug.

  The sight of Eric’s smile, so brilliant and genuine, pierces my heart like splinters as I realize it’s never directed at me.

  Not like that, missing its bite.

  My heart sinks at the ease with which he carries himself, and those splinters dig in deeper. The girl beside him laughs effortlessly, playfully reaching for his arm whenever she can. He seems comfortable with her touch, and she’s not making any effort to hide her interest.

  My feet hit the asphalt before I register what I’m doing, tiny rocks crunching under my soles as I take a purposeful step forward. I’m biting on the inside of my cheek so hard I draw blood, the sight of her hands on him sending me into a blinding rage.

  I have no right to feel this way. Don’t have any claim to him or his time, but fuck if I can’t stand someone else touching what doesn’t belong to them.

  His eyes meet mine over her shoulder and flare in surprise.

  “Eric!” I say, forcing a smirk onto my lips as I attempt to look less murdery.

  The girl whips in my direction, but I don’t even look at her as I approach, my eyes unblinking on his until I’m right beside him. The twitch under his left eye tells me how pissed he is, but he won’t lose his cool.

  Not in front of someone else.

  No, that loss of control is reserved only for me.

  “Dmitri.” He forces my name out before looking back at the girl. “Do you know Caroline? She went to NCU with us.”

  At last, I shift my gaze towards her, and her too-pretty face triggers an impulse to punch something. She lights up with recognition, but I have no memory of ever seeing her before. “Oh my gosh, I remember you! I can’t believe the two of you are still friends after so many years.”

  “I know, isn’t it amazing?” I coo, and Eric’s jaw ticks.

  Awkwardness hangs in the air as I keep my stare trained on her. Her eyes dart between us, her body language making it obvious that she wants me to leave.

  Guess who doesn’t give a fuck?

  “Well,” she finally drawls, putting her full attention on Eric. Guess she decided ignoring me was the best bet. “It was so good to see you again. I’ve been following your band for years. You’re incredible. Maybe we could get together while I’m in town and… catch up.” The way her eyes shamelessly roam over his body makes my blood boil with fury, my vision tinted in shades of red.

  My arm slides around him, fingers digging into his shoulder as I pull him against me. He’s tense; his anger simmering close to the surface. “That sounds like such a good idea, doesn’t it, Eric?”

  His face tilts up towards mine at the same time I turn and stare down at him, and fury gleams in every emerald and gold facet of his eyes.

  “Oh,” Caroline says in a quiet exhale, and I bite my lip as I twist my head back to her, probably looking like a goddamned psycho. Certainly feeling like one. “I didn’t realize…”

  In my peripherals, Eric’s eyes close before he turns to face her again. “Caroline, it’s not…”

  “No, no, it’s fine,” she insists, her smile forced and uneasy. “Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised. It was obvious you two were head over heels for each other back then.”

  I twist towards Eric, nudging his ear with my nose. “Hear that?” I murmur, relishing how he shivers against me. “It was obvious how crazy you were for me.”

  His face is blazing as I press a kiss to his temple, then turn to find her grinning like an idiot. “Well, I better get going. It was great to see you both.” She gives us one last smile and a cheerful wave before she walks into the store, leaving me out here, a third wheel to Eric and his Wrath.

  Maybe they’d consider a threesome.

  Based on the way he’s looking at me as if he wants to pop my head like a pimple, I’m assuming that’s a hard pass.

  Raincheck on the invite, then.

  He grabs my wrist and drags me behind him, around the side of the building where we’re covered with shadows. “What the fuck was that Dmitri? Are you following me now?”

  “Wouldn’t have to if you’d just talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about!”

  “Oh, cut the bullshit, Eric!” I shout, grabbing him by the back of the neck and tilting him toward me as I seethe. “The way you kissed me in that storage room? The way you touched me? You’re living in a sea of goddamned denial if you think we have nothing to discuss.”

  “It was a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” A bitter laugh works out of my throat as I shake my head, trying to ignore the pain that ripples through my chest. “Nothing about that was a mistake, Eric. Everything was fucking perfect. It was right. You and I both know it.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  My tongue darts out and I fist his hair, leaning in until our lips barely touch. His breathing is erratic, nostrils flaring in agitation. “Why are you fighting this?” I speak directly against his mouth.