by Wynne Roman
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
WICKED RUMORS – CHAPTER 1
WICKED RUMORS – CHAPTER 2
Wycked Crush
Wycked Obsession - Book 1
Wynne Roman
Smashwords Edition
WYCKED CRUSH
Wycked Obsession Series — Book 1
Copyright ©2017 by Wendy Ferguson
All Rights Reserved
Edited by Loredana Elsberry Schwartz
Proofreading by Kathy Hafer
Cover Design by Tatiana Vila, Vila Design
Formatting by Carlos Garzona, Vila Design
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system—without prior written consent from the author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the internet without the permission of the author, which is a violation of the international copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, except where noted and authorized. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events, is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement by the use of any of these terms.
DEDICATION
For Stacy Young, for reasons too numerous to mention.
We’ll start with aardvark and end with ZZ Top
…and include everything in between.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
WICKED RUMORS – PROLOGUE
WICKED RUMORS – CHAPTER 1
WICKED RUMORS – CHAPTER 2
PROLOGUE
BREE
I’ve waited so long.
Now, finally, Ajia is touching me. His eyes are soft and…is it love I see in their unique caramel color? I’ve crushed on him for so long—five whole years—and he’s finally seeing me as a woman. Not just a kid who’s trailed along behind her big brother and his band.
Me and Ajia. Just like I’ve always known it should be.
His fingers cup my breast and he squeezes. Hard. But—wait a minute. What? Something’s wrong. He’s crushing me. Pinching me. It’s not…right. Ajia’s touch wouldn’t be like this.
“I knew you’d feel this way.”
The low, guttural voice rips me out of my dream—oh, God, it’s only a dream—and I wake up on high alert. I open my eyes to him in my room, standing over me.
Not Ajia, the man I want like no other, but Gabe. My stepfather.
I shriek and shove my hands against his chest. He stumbles back, leaving my breasts exposed because he pushed my T-shirt up. Thank God, I’m wearing a sports bra.
I jerk my shirt down to cover my chest. It’s an old Pearl Jam T-shirt that belongs to my brother Knox. It’s way too big for me—exactly the way I want it. Disgusting as it might sound, I’ve started wearing baggy clothes so my stepfather won’t notice me.
It doesn’t seem to be working.
He blinks and then his lips curve into a small smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you, sweetie.” He takes a step toward me. “I just—”
“I don’t give a damn what you were just thinking.” I push up on my knees, and if looks could kill, he should be a pile of ashes by now. “Stay away from me, Gabe. Don’t ever touch me again.”
“Aw, Bree.” He gives me a look I’ve seen him give my mother a hundred times. Maybe he thinks it’s seductive. It makes me sick. “Don’t talk like that.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I demand. “You’re my stepfather, for Christ’s sake. My mother loves you!”
“And I love her.” He gives me that same awful smile. “But you…you’re like she must have been as a teenager. Imagine. Fucking both versions of the same woman. And within hours of each other.”
For a minute, I think I’ll throw up. Gabe’s been coming on to me for months now, ever since he and my mom got married. It’s been a soft press up until now. Things he always claimed were accidental, or I’d misunderstood his intentions.
He’s younger than Mom by about five years, good enough looking, I suppose—or at least I thought so when she first started to date him. Dark hair always perfectly styled, dark eyes, clean shaven. He dressed in suits and cotton pants with button-down shirts. Conservative and professional, I thought.
I was so fucking wrong.
At first I thought it was just a new husband figuring out how to fit in with a ready-made family. A forty-something, never-before-married stepfather learning to live with a nineteen-year-old stepdaughter in the same house. Touching my shoulder, my hip, watching me in that pervy way I now hate. I tried to blow it off. Walk away. Eventually I learned to make sure I was never alone with him.
Most especially, I never meant for anybody to find out. I’d thought I could handle it. Handle him. It was Knox who caught Gabe once, rubbing his hand up and down my spine, grabbing my ass before I could step away. The memory pierces me again.
“What the fuck?” Knox had asked the instant I’d gotten him away from Gabe.
I hadn’t been able to meet his eyes. “It’s…nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
I’d lifted one shoulder. “Yeah, he’s been a little too…friendly.”
“That fucker coming on to you?”
I’d shaken my head. “No. Not really. Just…well, like what you saw. It makes me uncomfortable, but I’m not sure he realizes what he’s doing.”
“Fuck that,” Knox had snapped. “He knows.”
“Knox.” I’d grabbed his arm so he’d know I was serious. “I can handle it. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”
“C’mon, Bree. You know better.” He’d frowned in that overprotective way of his. “He—”
“He’s Mom’s husband and she loves him. She waited a long time to get married again after Dad took off. I’m not getting in the way of that.”
“You aren’
t doing shit. It’s him and his wandering dick.”
“Well, his dick isn’t going to wander in my direction. I promise.”
I’d meant it then, and I mean it now. Every single day. Even if he’s getting braver. The idea of even being in the same room with Gabe Richmond is enough to make me want to puke.
After I convinced Knox to let it go then, I’ve kept as much of it from my brother as I can. Was that a mistake?
“Get out of here, Gabe.” A rage is growing in me, and I put every bit of fury into my voice. “I’m not sleeping with you. I’m not doing anything with you.”
“Oh, Bree, honey.” He shakes his head. “You don’t know how good we’ll be. We—”
“Gabe? Honey, I’m home! Bree?”
My mother’s voice rings from another part of the house, and relief floods through me. A tension I hadn’t even been aware of eases. It’s always like that. I just react however I need to in order to get away.
But I’m safe now. Mom’s home, and he won’t try anything else.
Not today.
Still kneeling on the bed, I sit back on my heels. Gabe shoots me a dark look. “You won’t say a word if you know what’s good for you.”
What does he think he can do that’s worse than what he’s already tried? But he’s right. I won’t say anything—and not for his sake.
He’s still standing in the doorway when Mom walks up. Everybody always says we’re mirror images of each other. Her hair’s shorter than mine, shoulder length but the same coffee color, and I inherited her brilliant green eyes. She’s dressed in what she calls business casual, a plain gray shift dress and teal-colored blazer.
She looks between us. “What’s going on?”
“I just came to check on Bree. She was being awfully quiet in here.” He gestures to my bedroom.
I point to my phone, headphones still attached. “I was listening to the new album. I guess—” I swallow “—I fell asleep.”
Mom smiles easily. “How many times have you listened to Knox’s new album already?”
You can do this. I can look my mom in the face and carry on a decent conversation. “It’s not just Knox’s album, Mom. It’s all the guys in Wycked Obsession.”
“Yes, yes, I know. And I’m proud of them all. But Knox is the only one who’s actually my son.”
She turns to Gabe, her smile softening to one of love. The kind of smile I’ll give Ajia someday, if I ever get the chance.
The kind of smile that asshole Gabe doesn’t deserve.
“Now, aren’t you taking me out for Mexican tonight?” she asks him in a throaty voice and slides her arm through his.
He smiles back, and the whole scene just makes me sick. Sicker than when he touched me—and I didn’t think that was possible.
“Sure, honey,” he says and then looks at me. “You want to come along, Bree?”
“Uh, no.” It comes out too flat, and so I add, “I’m going to see Knox.”
Something flickers in Gabe’s eyes, and it makes me smile. Does he think I’m going to tell my brother? I don’t say anything else.
“Sure.” Mom nods. “You want to spend time with your brother before the boys leave on tour, don’t you?”
“Yeah. That’s it.”
Knox and his band have a rental house where they’ve stayed the last six months. I didn’t have any plans to go there tonight; we planned to hook up tomorrow. That’s changing right now.
Wycked Obsession’s become the biggest band to come out of Austin in years, and I’ve tried not to be too much of a pest since they got back from their first tour. Things are different now—the guys are different. They’ve had new experiences. Fame. Adoration. Fans and groupies and shit we all used to joke about. It’s all real for them now.
But, I need them tonight. Whatever part of their life they can share. I need the guys who are as much brothers to me as Knox. And I need Ajia, however I can get him. Even if he doesn’t know how I feel. Will probably never know.
Tonight, of all nights, I want to think about loving Ajia and how I’m going to spend the summer avoiding my stepfather’s advances.
CHAPTER 1
BREE
I stand in the driveway of my brother’s house and frown.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
He’s having a party. Well, they’re having a party.
Why didn’t I expect it? A pre-tour party and a chance to celebrate the release of their second album, Wicked Is As Wycked Does. This is for their friends and their hometown fans. Different, I guess, from tour parties. Especially this tour, when they’ll be opening for Edge of Return, just about the biggest rock band in the world right now.
They didn’t invite me.
It hurts. I get it—sort of—but that doesn’t make me feel any better. Knox doesn’t want me hanging out with their musician friends. Groupies and sluts, he calls them, but maybe that’s just for my benefit. To get his way and keep me from getting to know people he things might be a bad influence.
Hysterical laughter bubbles up in my chest. I’m living with Gabe fucking Richmond, for Christ’s sake! So maybe it’s more complicated than that, but I don’t give a shit right now. I hate my life—and I really hate witnessing the one-night stand hook-up thing that’s part of the whole rock star lifestyle.
It’s become part of the Wycked Obsession lifestyle, and Ajia’s living it every goddamn day.
Well, fuck that. Fuck rock stars and my stepfather and my piece of shit life. I’m crashing.
I stalk up the driveway and through the front door before I can even think about it. Noise overpowers me at once. Voices and the pounding rhythm of music. Not Wycked Obsession’s music but…Highway to Hell by AC/DC.
Great. They’re into 80s metal tonight.
The crowd moves like it’s alive, and I slip into the kitchen to stash my purse in one of the cupboards. Why not? They never keep any food there, anyway.
It’s hotter than hell in the house, and I notice the open sliding glass door. May in Austin—of course it’s freaking hot! Did they remember to turn off the AC with the door open?
I’m stalling, and I know it. Maybe I was brave a few minutes ago, but it’s all starting to fade, now that I’m faced with the reality of finding Knox. I’m pretty sure he won’t make me leave. And if he tries? Well, I don’t want to pull the Gabe card in front of everybody, but I’ll do it if I have to.
“Hey, you need a beer?” Some guy shoves a Shiner Bock in my hand, and I smile a thanks. Deliberately, I wander away before he can say anything else.
A corner of the living room’s a safe place to watch the action while I search for Knox. He’s a couple of inches over six feet tall, so I should be able to find him easily enough. As always, a passing jealous thought reminds me that he has the height. Knox takes after Dad and I, as Gabe so disgustingly reminded me, look just like Mom. All 5’4” of me.
My brother is nowhere to be seen, but I’m not looking as hard as I should. Not for him, anyway. Ajia’s the one I really want to find.
Ajia Stone. Lead singer of Wycked Obsession. The hotter-than-hell guy with the throaty, husky voice that generates love, lust, and orgasms, according to fan gossip. He’s one of my brother’s best friends. One of my friends.
And the man I can’t seem to get over.
I was 14 when I first met Ajia. He and Knox were putting Wycked Obsession together, and I was the tag-along. Ajia was 19, out of my reach purely because of our age difference, but I crushed on him, anyway.
Well, I’m 19 now, almost 20, he’s 24—and just as much out of my reach. He’s a rising rock star with access to any girl he wants. Worse, my little schoolgirl crush has become so much more. I never wanted any other guy, and so I’m a 19-year-old virgin who’s Ajia’s friend. Like the band mascot.
Worse, he calls me kitten, like I’m some kind of pet.
There’s a reason for it, not that I like remembering it. I was babysitting a friend’s kitten the day I
met him. An unexpected birthday present for my friend Heather, I’d drawn kitten-sitting duty when her family had gone on a planned vacation to Disney World. Knox and I had never had a pet, and I was a little obsessive about making sure that Whiskers went home as healthy and happy as when she came to me. Somehow, that earned me the nickname kitten, and I’ve been stuck with it ever since.
Ajia might be missing, but I spot Noah, the band’s drummer. He’s huge, like 6’4” or 6’5”, with an upper body honed by years of playing the drums. Except for his darker hair, he could give Chris Hemsworth’s Thor a run for his money. He even has the long hair and firm jaw that hints at superhero status. I teased him about it so much, he eventually had Thor’s hammer tattooed on his bicep. He’s kind of become known for it, and now he takes off his shirt about halfway through every show and throws it to the crowd.
I grin in spite of my party-crashing status. I love Noah like a brother, but I’m a realist, as well. He’s also kind of a wild man, and right now he has a girl under each arm. Nope. Not talking to him at the moment.Zayne and Rye aren’t too far away, I notice as I sip my beer. They’re standing pretty close together, talking to a group of girls. They’re a really stunning combination—tatted up, long-haired music gods. Rye plays keyboards, and his pitch-black hair and matching eyes attract more attention than he ever seems comfortable with. Zayne’s the bassist, with chocolatey brown hair and striking hazel eyes. He seems to like being noticed just fine.
They’re like a couple more brothers to me, but no way am I approaching them with a whole group of fans around them. Knox’s sister or not, girls don’t like me being around their idols. It’s jealousy, pure and simple, and it’s also so goddamn stupid! I’m the band mascot, after all.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
The voice comes from the right, close to my ear, and I squeak as I turn.
“Knox. You scared me, you fucker.” I have to give as good as I get with these guys.
“Who told you about the party?”