Heart's Desire

by Ellie Masters

  Instead of telling him all of that, she thumped her chest. “In here. I feel the vibrations rumbling through my chest. It’s kind of cool.”

  “Just wait.” He rolled his shoulders back. “I need to warm up. Do you have any favorites?”

  His desert fatigues cupped his groin, and she couldn’t help but linger on the fullness behind the buttons of his fly. Those strong legs of his promised sinful pleasure, and she craved more of what they’d started the night before.

  She arched a brow. “I have lots of favorites, but I have no idea who plays them, and don’t you dare ask me to sing one or try to hum a tune. I’m musically illiterate and tone deaf, and even the cats screech when I try to sing.”

  “That bad?” He gave her a wink, a heart-stopping, belly-fluttering thing. He devastated her with the slightest expression.

  “Worse,” she admitted. “You have all the talent. What do you want to play?”

  “Nothing really comes to mind.” But he hit into the opening chords of “The Sound of Silence.” It had recently been covered by Disturbed, breathing new life into the classic Simon & Garfunkel masterpiece.

  She recognized that song and was hard-pressed to say which version she preferred. With Ryker on the guitar, she bent her elbows and leaned further back. Soon, she would be flat on her back, fast headed to the silence of dreams. Exhaustion pulled at her as her body relaxed, and her mind followed. Had this been his intent in bringing her here?

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “I do,” she said with a nod. “Which version do you prefer?”

  “I thought you said you didn’t recognize tunes.”

  “Well, that one is iconic.”

  “Okay, let’s test your knowledge.”

  “Oh Lord, you don’t want to do that.”

  “Here’s one. The bass is subtle but powerful in its presence.” He played for a bit, and it sounded familiar.

  “Tip of my tongue, but no go.”

  “That was Midnight Oil,” he said, looking surprised. “Try this one.”

  His fingers traveled over the neck of the guitar, fascinating her with his skill, but she still couldn’t figure out the track, even though it too sounded familiar.

  “I’ve got nothing.”

  “Oh, come on. ‘Magic Man’ by Heart? It was their breakout hit.”

  She shook her head.

  “I love the rumbling bass in that one.”

  He demonstrated by playing it again, and she sat, captivated, as his deft fingers flew over the frets. Was that even the right word? She needed to research so as not to sound like a complete idiot.

  “It carries a consistent punch of power throughout the song,” he said.

  “If you say so,” she said with a shrug. “I have to be honest with you. I can barely tell the difference between the main guitar and the bass.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s that bad.”

  He laughed. “Well then, just kick back and relax. Let me take you on a journey. Now, you have to know this one.” His fingers flew across the guitar.

  “Oh, I do,” she said, clapping her hands. Hell, she was happy to know two of the songs he had played. “Rush.”

  “Which song?”

  She arched a brow. “Um, I was happy to get the band right.”

  “That’s ‘YYZ.’ Geddy Lee is one of my favorite bassists. He usually lets his bandmates shred the songs, but he laid down the foundation with the bass line. ‘YYZ’ features some pretty sick bass solos. It was one of the first I learned.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” she said. “I love their lead singer’s voice. It’s so different from anything else.”

  “Geddy Lee is their lead singer,” he said, speaking as if she’d grown a second head or third eye.

  “I told you I was hopeless.”

  Ryker laughed at her shortcomings but continued running through a gamut of songs. All of them she was familiar with, having heard them countless times in the past. None, except “The Sound of Silence,” could she name. Eventually, he stopped the rock quiz and settled into his music.

  “I don’t recognize that at all.” In fact, the music felt unfinished, and while raw at the edges, it held undeniable power. “I like that.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’m making it up on the fly.”

  She sat up straight. “You’re composing?”

  “I wouldn’t call it that. I’m just fucking around.”

  “Is that what you did in the bus?” She remembered what Ash had said. How he wished someone had recorded Ryker playing.

  “Kind of but not really. That was easy. They already had the melody lines down.”

  “But you improved on it.”

  “Not improved. I’d never say I could improve on what they’ve got going on. Truth is, Spike dared me, and I never back down from a dare.”

  “Then, what was it?”

  “I couldn’t remember the entire song, so I filled in the gaps.”

  “Evidently, you filled them in pretty damn well.”

  “I suppose. But this isn’t composing.”

  “It sounds like music,” she said. “In fact, it’s really good.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a soft smile. “I miss playing.”

  She would ask why he hadn’t brought a guitar with him on deployment but already knew the answer. They were allowed minimal baggage. Guitars, especially a bass guitar with amplifier, took up too much weight and space.

  “How often do you play at home?”

  “Probably every day.”

  “Why don’t I know this about you?”

  “Because we never shared those pieces of ourselves,” he said softly. “I hope that’s changing.”

  “You know,” she said, sitting up suddenly, “I agree, and I’m glad Scott turned out to be a jerk.”

  “I’m really sorry how he treated you,” Ryker said with a sigh.

  “Why? Him leaving opened the door for you.”

  “As the rebound guy,” he said with a twist of his lips. “I hope you realize that’s not what I intend on becoming.”

  “What do you see yourself becoming?” What kind of a future did he envision?

  “I see days turning to weeks with you curled up to my side every morning. Weeks turning to months. I see lots of hot and heavy sex.”

  “How heavy?” Whenever he talked sex, she ached for him in the best possible way. She squeezed her thighs together against needy pulsations.

  He snorted. “As heavy as you want, but it might be a bit soon to be talking about our kinks.”

  “You have kinks?”

  Of course Ryker had kinks. As soon as he found out how incredibly boring she was, he’d probably leave.

  “Everyone has kinks,” he said.

  “That’s a non-answer,” she countered.

  “That’s because we have company and probably shouldn’t be discussing ropes, blindfolds, cuffs, and crops.”

  His words sent her heart racing. Two reasons. First, he was a lot kinkier than she’d imagined. That turned her on rather than turned her off. Sex with Ryker could become something wickedly delicious and fun. The second reason her pulse spiked came in the form of five men crossing the hangar. Sex on a stick, the men of Angel Fire were beyond gorgeous.

  A quick glance at Ryker, and she realized how seamlessly he fit in with the band. Put him in worn jeans and a T-shirt, and it would be impossible to say he didn’t belong right beside them. Ash, Bash, Spike, Noodles, and the ever-imposing Forest closed the distance with their long strides.

  “Whatcha doing?” Forest called out.

  Ryker stood. “Just goofing around. Smiley said it was okay. I hope I haven’t overstepped.”

  Ash placed his palm down on the stage and vaulted up. The others followed suit.

  “How’s Bent?” she asked.

  He’d been taken for X-rays after their arrival, and she hadn’t seen him since. She assumed he had gone to the operating room for stabilization of his injury.

 
; Ash’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Compound fracture. He’s out of surgery but fucked up.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. She stood and dusted off her backside, moving out of the way. “What did Drummond say about his recovery?” A broken arm could be disastrous for a guitar player.

  Bash kicked an electrical cord snaking its way across the stage. “He needs pins or some shit like that. But the doc said he should do well.”

  “He’s going to need physical therapy,” Forest added. “Skye is talking with them now.”

  “Good,” she said. “It’s good you have a doctor with you. I’m sure she’s asking all the right questions. I guess this means you’ll be packing everything up and cutting the tour short?”

  They couldn’t possibly continue the tour. After the surgeons stabilized Bent, he’d need to be moved out of theater and back to a hospital in the States where he could continue his recovery. And Forest was right. He would need a really good physical therapist. She didn’t want to bring up potential nerve damage or what that break might mean for his future but sensed that thought had already crossed everyone’s mind.

  Ash and Bash exchanged a look.

  Ash ran his hand through his hair. The strands tumbled over his eyes. “Actually,” he began, “we were wondering…”

  “What?” Ryker looped the shoulder strap over his head and placed Bent’s guitar on one of the waiting guitar racks.

  Bash cocked his head. “What about you?”

  Ryker’s entire body stilled. She watched him struggle to process what those words might mean.

  Instead of saying yes, he held up his hands and took a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Spike said. “You’ve got the chops.”

  “True,” Ryker agreed. “I can play the songs, but playing alongside Bent and filling his shoes for a tour are two completely different things. I appreciate it, but…” He stumbled to find words.

  Tia wished she could help him but understood his position. Ryker was nothing but respectful. There was no way he would come between Bent and the band. It wasn’t in his blood. Playing with them was a dream he hadn’t backed away from. Playing for them in place of their bassist? That was a whole other problem.

  Noodles walked over and picked up Bent’s guitar. “Listen, dude, I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong.”

  “Then, you know why I have to say no.”

  Forest’s deep baritone ripped through the air. “That’s fucking stupid, lover boy.”

  “Stupid?” Ryker asked.

  Tia’s head swiveled, trying to keep track of the conversation flying between the men. She opted instead to take a few steps back, giving them room to discuss this new turn of events.

  Ryker reached for her, snagging her wrist. “Tell them, Tia. Tell them why it’s a bad idea.”

  Understanding his point of view didn’t mean she agreed with it. “Um…”

  He turned on her, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean, um?”

  “It’s just, the expense for them to get out here was pretty high. The USO doesn’t pay the performers. It’s all voluntary and done gratis. They assist with tour management and transportation, facilitate lodging and other things, but the bands pay for the privilege to play to the troops. It would be a shame for them to leave if they didn’t absolutely have to.”

  “I already have people inbound to fill your spots,” Forest rumbled. “Think about the inconvenience to them.”

  “It means they can turn around and go back to their families,” Ryker tossed back, continuing his argument.

  She couldn’t dispute that, but deployments came in two flavors, depending on the person. It was either a burden or the luckiest break. Promotions came easier to those who were deployed. It generated fodder to put on performance reports when promotions cycled around. There was a very real chance whoever Forest had found wanted the experience to flesh out their promotion package.

  “Ryker,” she said, laying her hand on his arm, “maybe they want to be here, and this can help you, too.”

  Just like a deployment made for a robust performance review, stepping outside conventional channels couldn’t hurt him. For an enlisted member, the more diversity he could show, the better his chances for promotion.

  “I don’t care about that,” he said. “Jeez, is everyone ganging up on me?”

  The four members of Angel Fire formed a line and faced Ryker down. Arms crossed, they made a formidable force.

  “It’s what Bent wants,” Ash said after a moment of silence that had stretched a little too long.

  “I’m not saying yes or no,” Ryker affirmed, “until I speak with him, and speaking to him isn’t happening tonight. I appreciate it, but I gotta tell you, I’m not jumping at the chance.”

  With her wrist still clamped in his grip, he pulled her to the edge of the stage. He released her and jumped down. Then, he extended his hand to help her down. Any other time, she would’ve refused his help, but this seemed a poor time to stand on principle. He looked pissed off, and she didn’t know what that meant.

  This was his dream. So, why was he turning it down?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Heaven

  Ryker

  Playing with the band as a novelty was one thing, but inserting himself into their dynamic spelled disaster. Ryker kept a grip on Tia’s wrist and pulled her out of the hangar. His mind swirled with everything that could go wrong with such a scenario.

  It made him mad, and his anger stirred up other emotions, like a primal need to fuck Tia senseless. He’d deal with Angel Fire’s disaster in the morning. For now, he needed to get out of that hangar and away from the band, or he might agree to do exactly what they wanted. Because, hell, Angel Fire!

  Who wouldn’t want to take that stage? He thought playing beside them had been his dream, but playing as one of them? Being taken fully into their fold was unheard of, and he wanted it. He wanted it with a desperate hunger but was wise enough to walk away.

  Besides, he had other things to do.

  The music had exactly the effect he’d been hoping for. Much of the stress buzzing around in Tia’s body had evaporated. The lines pulling at her eyes had eased. The tension in her brow had disappeared. She had traded her frown for smiles and laughter. For a time, life returned to normal. Now, he planned to take her to a whole other realm, one full of naked bodies sliding and grappling and fucking and loving.

  “Where are we going?” Tia asked.

  “As far from them as we can.”

  “We didn’t need to leave. You should go back there and talk to them.” She pulled up short, forcing him to halt.

  “The last thing I want is to be in that hangar where they’ll convince me to do something that, in all likelihood, will blow up in their faces.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You don’t just plug a guy into a band,” he explained. “Not if you want to keep a band together. All it does is breed resentment and jealousy. I’m not going to be that guy.”

  “You make it sound like a foregone conclusion,” she said. “It could be exactly as they said. Bent might be on board. He might have even asked them.”

  “Bent?” he scoffed. “The man with his arm literally bent in half where it shouldn’t be and who likely also has a concussion. I saw the blood. That man is in no condition to be suggesting I take his place. He’s doped up on painkillers. Until I speak with him directly, there’s no way in hell I’m talking to the rest of the band.”

  “Does that mean you’re considering it?”

  He wasn’t ruling it out, not completely, but he needed to speak to Bent. A conscious, pain-free, non-medicated Bent.

  And he needed to fuck. Sticking around to discuss logistics and planning with Angel Fire would steal a golden opportunity to find time alone with Tia.

  “Come,” he said, grabbing at her wrist again.

  She jerked free of his grip. “Ryker, we can’t…”

  “Don’t tell
me no because I plan on spending all night getting to know your tight pussy.”

  “No,” she said, blushing with his words. “I mean, we can’t run around base, holding hands. Ever heard of discretion?”

  He loved the effect he had on her but fuck discretion. His cock throbbed with thoughts of what the night would bring.

  “Fine,” he said, “but keep up.”

  “And where exactly do you plan on going? I’m not taking a chance like last night.”

  “We’re going to your lodging,” he said. “And soon unless you’d rather talk than fuck.”

  “Such a romantic,” she said, lifting a brow in challenge.

  “I’m not buying you flowers because I know how you feel about them. So, there’s not much reason for romance. I do, however, know what your pussy feels like on my fingers and my cock. I intend to finish what we started.”

  “I think we finished just fine,” she said with a snort. She covered her mouth and nose and blushed a pretty shade of pink.

  “Hon, if that’s what you think, then I have a whole lot of educating to do. Now, if you don’t want me tossing you over my shoulder and carrying you, I suggest you start walking.”

  “I don’t even know where they put me.”

  “I do,” he said. “You’re staying at The Ritz again.”

  Her tongue flicked out and licked her upper lip. She was uncertain, but gestured in the direction they’d been walking. “Well, lead on.”

  Her new lodging was similar to the one she’d been placed in before. This time, she’d been assigned to one of the older facilities—a smaller, single-person accommodation. Night had settled over the camp, and it remained quiet for the most part, but there were still some people wandering about—those headed to a late chow, beginning evening shifts, or going to the gym. Fortunately, he and Tia didn’t run into anyone they knew. They searched until they found her room. Slipping inside, he took no time in latching and securing the door before grabbing her and pinning her against the closed door.