Love Struck Bad Boys - 3 Novel Box Set

by Amber Burns

  “Leave my mother out of this.” My tone is curt, icy.

  Custodio flails his hand as if he’s slapping away my words. “She was a greedy woman who kept taking, and taking, and left without so much as a word to me.”

  I’m not sure how it ended, but it gives a larger picture to their break-up. One day mom’s living in OC and the next she’s following after my sister and setting up in Connecticut, my brother not too far the family either doing his graduate studies – or so I’m told.

  I’ve been long out of the lives of my siblings and our mom to keep track of them. Other than the yearly formalities of holidays, I regulated video chats to the face-to-face family meetings. And since I send my fair share of gifts and money during those times, I usually don’t get grief from them.

  Jesse and Dan always have their say about the way the McBrides deal with each other, but it’s not my fault. None of them has bothered to say they miss me.

  Even so, hearing Custodio Lopez talk about my mom clenches my fist and the next thing I see is the haze is clearing and I’m looking at the older man, clutching his jaw, clinging to the wall, his eyes bulging with a range of emotions.

  The contempt and anger I see clearly and understand, but it’s the slice of stark fear that surprises me. The studio door flies open and the guys fall out with their gear into the hall, Holly behind them.

  All three of them stall in the threshold of studio and hall as Custodio looks back at them, stiffening his upper lip and slowly removing his hand from cupping the red area to the left of his jaw. No amount of manning up will cover the bruiser it’ll become later if my throbbing hand says as much.

  My bad hand clenches at the sight. The violence isn’t me, but damn if it doesn’t feel good.

  I can already see Dan and Jesse’s questioning looks, but I’ve wasted enough time here. With more confidence than I’ve ever displayed in front of Custodio in the twenty-four years he’s been in my life, shadowing my every decision, the master-mind behind Ryker McBride, gold-selling rock star, I turn my back on him.

  “See you later,” I toss it over my shoulder at everyone in general.

  Lately I’ve been driving with blinders on. It’s a miracle that I haven’t gotten into a car accident yet. Right now my thoughts are several steps ahead. Just as I think I have grasp of the words I want to say to Astra, I lose it all when her guest answers the door.

  Asking for Astra tightly, he steps back slightly and calls Astra, suggesting their relationship is casual…familiar. I don’t like it.

  The sour taste in my mouth only intensifies when Astra herself climbs down the stairs and stands beside her well-dressed guest, ‘Charlie’. This Charlie guy breezes off, something about his suitcase, and the idea of his staying at hers cleans my mind.

  I step in from the cold when she silently hints at her invite, stepping back to give me room and leaving me with the task of closing the door.

  It doesn’t help that the residue of my uncorked rage with Custodio is buzzing around my veins, heating my blood to an uncomfortable degree.

  I can see it now, the word vomit demanding to know every detail about that guy and his connection to her, of ruining any chance I can get by acting like an angry not-boyfriend.

  “Hi,” she greets shyly.

  That’s all it takes. One little ‘hi’ and the anger goes poof.

  “Hey.” I shove my hands into my jean pockets for lack of a better place to put them while I talk to her. That and I’m sorely tempted to brush the partially wet strands snaking out from her temples down her cheeks.

  She looks gorgeous, as usual.

  The print and art on her tee shirt is too tightly fitted across her bust for me to make sense of picture or slogan. Though I love to see them bare, her shoulders are covered by a sheer black cardigan, and her legs are squeezed in a pair of faded light wash jeans.

  “Company?” I ask, gaze shooting back to her face. Her cheeks are redder, likely from my eye-humping her.

  “Yes,” she almost hisses out the word, her breathlessness giving me a new hope. “Charlie is, er, was my brother-in-law. But that was a while ago. My sister’s been divorced for a while.”

  “Brother-in-law?” at my question, she nods slowly, once. I have to mentally give myself a good shake, and try to control the hysterical laugh of relief I really want to laugh. “He’s your brother-in-law. Ex brother-in-law.” I repeat to reassure myself.

  We both tune into the loud thud from her den. Astra excuses herself to check on Charlie. She gives me a nice view of her rear as she asks after his health, returning quickly to where I’m rooted in front of her door.

  “Sorry. He’s packing.” She says, hands gripping her sleeves and wrapping her arms mid-way around her stomach.

  “He’s leaving?”

  “Yeah. He came in yesterday and surprised me.” Astra then does something I don’t expect. She sniffs loudly and covers her mouth, looking to her feet like her fuzzy animal-print slippers are the most fascinating thing.

  I step towards her only to be overcast by the nimble Charlie, ex brother-in-law. I have to say that a few times over when he wraps his arm around Astra from behind and turns their side-hug into a hug-hug.

  Eyes shooting through their middle, I have to chant a little louder, a little quicker. He’s her ex brother-in-law. Ex brother-in-law, nothing weird going on here. Totally platonic.

  Charlie just better not have a boner under those fancy dress pants of his, or else.

  He smooths her hair from her face and whispers, “We’ll get through this. Leave it to me.”

  I cross my arms over my tightening chest, tucking my fists against my body to prevent another violent episode.

  Not in front of Astra.

  That’s not me. I don’t hurt people; even if both the incident with Custodio and now Charlie seems to share a common denominator, my girl. Which makes me wonder at whether love brings out the best or worst in people?

  Probably both.

  Hopefully.

  “What’s going on?” at my question, Astra ducks her head and swipes her hands over her face like it’s a secret she’s gone watery-eyed.

  It’s Charlie who answers. “I don’t think we’ve met.” He holds out a hand and introduces himself just as Astra described, the ex-husband of her younger sister – the same sister finishing up her rehab and would be moving in with Astra in that guest room upstairs.

  A knock on the door behind me shifts me around to answer as I’m the closest.

  “Did you call for a taxi?” the middle-aged man on the other side nods at Charlie’s positive response, turning back to his running car.

  “That’s my call.” Charlie nods and smiles warmly at the both of us. “Ryker, it was a pleasure meeting you. Astra, take care and we’ll talk soon. You have to come down and see Eva soon. Promise”

  “Promise.” she smiles, her eyes shimmering again.

  What the hell is going on? Who is this guy, who’s Eva, and what happened to the strong Astra I knew and should I be worried?

  Charlie squeezes her arms and releases her – all the better for my rising blood pressure. “Flight’s in two hours and there’s the drive to Newark and the line-up at the gate. Also Pam wanted me to check in before liftoff.” He hugs Astra again – fuck blood pressure – and grabs a handle on the roller suitcase off to his side. “I’ll call you when I land.”

  I shift out of his way, switching places with Astra as she sees him to the front door and watching until the taxi does a uey in the wide two-lane road and heads back the way it came, presumably towards Newark International.

  “Where does he live?” I ask lamely. It’s either that or I jump in the deep end of the real reason I’m here and without floaters, and I’ve never been particularly brave.

  “Charlie grew up with us in Columbia and he never left.”

  Astra sighs, before she continues. “My sister never left either, before her convalescence.” Rehab, she means, but I can see saying it is hard for her.

 
; “He still lives in the house he bought when he married her. Only he lives there with his new wife, Pam, and their three-month old girl, Eva.”

  Okay, that makes sense. Talk about my over-reaction…

  She’s facing me, leaning against the door, but her body language is tuning me out. But she’s still talking, sharing, and since I know she probably doesn’t tell much people about this part of her life, I can’t complain.

  “Charlie came to let me know she – my sister, May, was released a week earlier than scheduled. That and she graduated almost four days ago,” the way she says it lets me know that it was unexpected.

  “Is congratulations an order?”

  Astra crosses her arms and, God forgive me, but my eyes lock on her beautifully big, all-natural tits all the more exaggerated by her actions. “I wish,” her put-upon sigh slaps my dick and I sober up quickly. “I mean, it’s great. I’m happy for her.”

  “But?” I help her out.

  Astra worries her lip, weighing her words perhaps. Like I’m going to judge her – damn it, I thought we were stronger than this.

  Blame yourself, dipshit. She probably can’t trust you after that night.

  And what I wouldn’t give to go back and change the evening, maybe calm the heck down, or wise up earlier and tell her everything I sure as hell will be telling her now.

  “She doesn’t want to live with me,” she finally says, and I can hear her heartbreak. My own heart thumps painfully for her. After all the hard work she put into the room, she sounded ready to be near family and it’s funny how I feel the exact opposite with my own mother, sister and brother.

  I can’t say I know what she’s feeling, and I’m not even going to be a douche and pretend I do.

  What I can do, I do: I close the gap between us in three strides before she has a chance to push me out.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur into her hair, drawing her closer, but keeping my arms loose about her middle. My knees are bent to get a good grip on her. It’s all about her comfort, I realize. Sex, for once, isn’t at the forefront of my mind...or tenting the front of my jeans.

  Astra doesn’t fight me like I expect, but she isn’t also pulling me against her, raining kisses over my face and telling me passionately that my love is returned in full.

  “Why are you here?” she asks, so softly I’d surely miss it or ask her to repeat herself if it hadn’t been pressed to my ear.

  My chin resting on her shoulder, I keep as still as possible. Scaring her off now would be bad. If she’s letting me hold her it’s the very possible reason that she likes me...feels something other than the disgust or hatred that’s been plaguing my thoughts the past two nights.

  “I needed to see you.”

  “Why?”

  I gulp. Here’s the moment of truth, and for what I have to say I’d be smart to look deep into her eyes, see her reaction for myself. Those first few seconds could mend, or break all over again, my heart

  Now or never, asshole.

  I realize touching her is only making me more nervous. Forcing my hands off of her shoulders, too, I take a step back. Her eyes are wary, as I expect them to be, and she worrying her lip all over.

  “Because I needed to tell you this,” I swallow, realizing this is my chance to back out. And what? Live a life without Astra, without knowing if she actually loved me?

  How had Jesse put it – what counts more for you, this girl in your life or the potential of your heart kicked and handed to you all bloody for trying?

  That sounds about right.

  “I love you.” I flush, my whole body warming the more she stares, the more I pour myself out to her. “I think I always loved you, at least ever since we first had sex, um, made love. Not that it’s about the sex – that is, love making,” my tongue is twisted into a damning knot.

  Fuck fluency. Fuck fear.

  “Yeah, I want to fuck you,” my wording forces a gasp from my girl, but her chest is rising and falling and, damn, if she didn’t look ready to let me take her against the door. “But I also want to love you, need to love you.”

  It’s like I’m playing to a crowd, only I’m more tense, more panicky and yet without the signs of panicking. I don’t need to have my ritualistic pep talks before hitting stage and center, not with Astra. Nor do I need to spend grueling hours trying to find the right words for a new song, or practicing with the guys to make sure we’ve nailed it.

  All of this is natural, flowing way easier than I thought.

  “And if you’ll have this asshole, I’ll cherish and care for you, be your number one fan, your groupie, but I’ll also protect you from any stalkers” I grin, my face easing from the tension. And before I get tongue-tied and lose my momentum, I pick up at, “I’ll be both your shadow and light because you’re my world. Babe, I’ll be your everything, just give me the word – and which is why I’m asking now...”

  Going down on both knees, I stare up at her, into her shining little brown eyes, memorize the green flecks in her irises, the tiny dimple creasing the corner of her left cheek by her widening smile, and the gasp and fluttering, nervous-sounding laugh as I hold out both hands. “Will you let me love you, Astra?”

  “Ryker,” she says my name with so much love, but it’s her arms wrapping around my neck, particularly hauling me off balance onto the floor with her on top that leaves me speechless, and reeling from the overload of...happiness.

  Pure, unfiltered, unequivocal happiness.

  We drop down from our knees and I bring Astra into my lap, our faces a sweet breath apart. The first kiss feels like the same first kiss we’ve had, like I’m reliving the past in the present while planning our forever-future together.

  It’s fierce and passionate, our tongues mating, her crotch pressing against my belly as I draw her in wanting more, needing more Astra.

  She breaks apart on a loud moan, keening her head back, exposing her throat for my searching, hot kisses. I surge forward, attacking her flesh wherever I can.

  “Ahh,” she breathes, her hips undulating against me, her ass stroking my cock back and forth. Ripping our clothes off and plunging into her, killing these flames licking my body, is looking better and better. Screw the fact we’re sitting on the floor in front of her door – a door I’m not entirely sure she locked when seeing Charlie out.

  “Astra.” I groan her name, grunting when she bears down on me again, her warm, solid weight rolling my eyes to the back of my head.

  It takes all of my self-control to pull myself away from her body, holding her hips fast to clear my head and think straight. At her questioning look I kiss her softly and chuckle, “You deserve a nice bed for when I take you, hard and fast. Trust me. You won’t appreciate the floor afterwards.”

  Her cheeks, already red from everything else, grow rosier if possible.

  “Ryker,” she says again, her palms cupping my cheeks, forcing my gaze to mirror hers. “I love you, too.”

  I hug her because it’s too much and it’s not enough, squeezing her until she gasps my name at my tightening hold. I know now she’s the only person who can hurt me – really hurt me. Not my mom’s mistakes, or my being cheated out of a family, or Custodio, or the band’s impending hiatus.

  Nothing or no one else.

  But she’s also the only one who can make me whole.

  And I know it as surely as I know my own name, my past mistakes and my dreams, I love this woman like I love my music, my own life. “Rock me much?”

  At my loosening embrace, she pulls her head back and I fall in love again at the sight of her wide, brilliant smile, and again when she giggles, and again at the touching of our lips.

  With another kiss, she promises, “Always.”

  12

  It’s the emcee calling for Tense Finger that forces me out from between Astra’s legs.

  “No. Keep going.” She’s whimpering her protest, and I have to force her hands from their grip in my hair. I run a hand through to make sure there aren’t remnants of evidenc
e of our pass time between gigs. Licking my lips, my hands massaging her inner thighs, I press a quick kiss to her pink folds and grin at her bucking.

  “Please don’t tease me,” she begs, struggling to prop herself up on her elbows.

  “Who’s teasing?” I blink innocently; she’s not falling for it.

  I drag myself over her body, holding her to the bed, trapping her legs around mine, fingers locking around her wrists and settling them by her head. “This,” I kiss one of her eyelids then the other softly, the tip of her nose and each of her cheeks.