Ashes & Embers Series Collection (Books 1 to 4)

by Carian Cole

  “Please, let me feel you.” My mind is spinning. All I want is to get back on him and feel him all over me.

  He lets me down and I grind my pussy against him, so close to reaching my sweet release.

  I cry out when he pulls me up again just when I’m about to come.

  “Shit!” I practically scream, biting my lip.

  His lips curl into a deviant smile.

  “You’re so beautiful like this, Evie. I want you losing your mind for me.”

  I run my hands down his arms, his muscles flexed tight as they hold me up.

  “Please, Storm. You’re killing me.” I put my hands to his face and kiss him hungrily, my teeth crashing against his in my frenzy.

  He releases me and his hands immediately go to my hips, pulling me hard against him, sliding his hands under my shorts and squeezing my flesh. His mouth captures my nipple as I ride him, his teeth biting into my sensitive tip, further igniting the fire growing inside me.

  I grip his shoulders and arch my back, losing myself in his touch, until my orgasm rips through me, leaving me shuddering on top of him and panting like a wild puppy. He finds my lips and kisses me softly on my nose, my cheeks, my eyes, then rests his head against mine, wrapping his arms around me.

  “That was awesome, baby. You drive me fucking wild.”

  “You do the same to me.” I snuggle into him, dazed from the pleasure that wracked through my body.

  He glances at his watch and groans. “Ugh, I don’t want to fly back there. I want to stay here and ravish you.”

  “Can’t you stay?”

  “I wish, but the band kind of needs a lead guitarist for a concert, love. So, I gotta go.”

  I drag myself off him and watch him get dressed. I will never tire of looking at his perfect body. Pulling on my t-shirt, I try to fix my long, tangled hair. He looks down at me on the couch as he buckles his belt.

  “I love the way you look at me,” he says, bending down and giving me a quick kiss before pulling his boots on.

  “How do I look at you?”

  “Like you love me.” He winks at me as he pulls his shirt over his head.

  I do.

  “Do you need a ride to the airport?”

  “I have a rental car.”

  I stand up and hug him. “I can’t believe you flew all the way out here just to see me.”

  “I missed you, and all the phone sex was driving me crazy. This gave me an excuse to come see you and get my hands on you,” he teases. “And you get an A-plus for your first lesson. You blew my mind. Literally.”

  “I’ll try to do better next time with the swallowing part,” I say awkwardly.

  “You did amazing. I have zero complaints.”

  We walk to the front door together where he pulls me in for a big hug. “I love your apartment, baby. I’m proud of you.” He holds up two fingers. “Two weeks and I’ll be back. Our last show is the local venue again. Will you come? You can hang backstage and meet the rest of the guys.”

  I nod and smile, excited about seeing him play again. “I’d love that.”

  He opens the door and leans against the frame, looking at me. “You okay?” he asks. “With all this? Leaving him? Me and you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, we’re together, right?”

  My God, he’s adorable sometimes. I grin at him. “Yes. You’re officially off the market, Mr. Valentine. I expect to see that on your social profiles.”

  “Really? I’ll alert my staff.”

  We kiss and I wave to him from the door as he drives off.

  A few minutes later, my cell phone beeps with a text message:

  Storm: By the way. I look at you the same way xo

  Frowning at the screen, it takes me a moment to figure out what he’s saying.

  My heart does a flip-flop. He’s falling in love with me, too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I DUMP THE CONTENTS OF THE five shopping bags onto my bed and start cutting the tags off. Amy pretty much kidnapped me earlier and took me on a shopping spree for ‘sexy clothes.’ New jeans, tops, panties, bras, skirts, pumps, boots. All of it a little bit out of my comfort zone, but Amy says if I’m going to be dating Storm, then I should dress sexier when we go out or else social media will eat me.

  At the time, I just rolled my eyes at her and let her dress me up like a little doll in each store, but now that I’m alone, my ol’ friends, fear and panic, are coming in for a visit.

  Storm is kinda, sorta famous. He has fans, groupies, probably a stalker or two. Once we start dating for real and go out in public, these people are going to be looking at me. Judging me. I’ve seen pictures of him online with the models and actresses. I read the comments beneath the photos, some saying they were the hottest couple, some saying she was a fat skank and everything in between. People can be brutal sitting behind a keyboard.

  Soon, those comments will be about me.

  Me. A twenty-six-year-old, five-foot-two, one-hundred-and-thirty pound average girl who spends most of her free time with her cat. My hair color is real. I am not even close to being tan, ever. I wear sneakers most of the time—unless I’m in a blizzard, then my footwear of choice is the useless black pump. How would his fans react to him dating a nobody?

  My focus since I’ve met Storm has been on the connection we formed. How he cares for me, and how much I care about him. The way he brings me out of my shell but also makes me feel safe. How he has taught me to feel passion. The pure contentment we feel just being together, holding hands. The way we can fight and then bounce right back together.

  The fear of him possibly not being able to commit always just under the surface, but there, regardless.

  I really never thought about the fact I would be under a microscope with him, and I’m not quite sure how my fragile psyche is going to deal with all that. I’m going to have to talk to him about this and get some advice.

  I’m nervous as hell when I pull into the parking lot of the club. Since Storm and the band all arrived together on the bus straight from the road, the plan is for me to just meet him here, and we’ll go to my place together after the concert.

  I text him from the parking lot, like he asked me to do.

  Me: I’m here!

  Storm: Awesome. Meet me at the back door, baby. I’ll be right there.

  I walk around the side of the building, past a few dumpsters, to the back door. I tap on it lightly and it swings open. He pulls me inside, closing the door behind me as he backs me up against the wall, his body flush against mine. He smothers me with his body and lips, his hands tight on my waist. I drop my bag and wind my arms around his neck, craning my head up to meet his hungry mouth. Even with three-inch heels on, he still towers above me.

  “Damn, I missed you,” he murmurs, lowering his mouth to my neck. “You always smell so good.” He inhales and his lips find my earlobe, sucking gently, sending a shiver through my body.

  “I missed you,” I reply, my mind dizzy already.

  He pulls back and grabs my hand. “Come on, I want you to meet the guys before we have to get on stage.”

  We walk down a dark hallway at the back of the club, mostly lined with old boxes and garbage cans. Then he takes us through another door where a few people are hanging out, tuning instruments, drinking, and talking.

  “Hey, guys. I want you to officially meet Evelyn,” Storm announces.

  “Also known as Blizzard Chick, for those of you who don’t know,” Asher adds. I give him a weak smile, not sure if he’s joking or being sarcastic. His resemblance to Storm still freaks me out a bit.

  Storm grins, his grip on my hand tightening. “Yes, aka Blizzard Chick. Evie, you met my brother Ash already, and my cousin Lukas. That’s my brother, Talon, my other brother, Mikah, back by the drums, and my cousin, Vandal. That’s Robbie, he helps us out with shit, and that’s Jill.”

  Jill. Juggsy. I was close.

  They all say ‘hey’ or ‘what’s up’ or some other form of hello, and I smil
e shyly back at them and say ‘hi’.’ They are all incredibly good-looking, covered in tattoos and piercings, almost all of them with longish hair. Vandal sticks out like a black cloud on a summer day. His jet-black hair is the longest of them all, and messy, covering half his face. His eyes are dark, almost black, and his skin is the color of dark coffee, stretched over huge muscles. He has an intense gaze, unsmiling. He’s a bit scary, to be honest, but there is something about him that just commands attention. I feel like if he raised his voice just a little, I’d be cowering in the corner hugging myself in about two seconds.

  Jill is giving me the evil eye, leaning against a large speaker, arms crossed. I try not to look at her face. I don’t want to see the mouth that was on Storm, obviously not requiring detailed directions like yours truly.

  Storm gets me set up on a stool off to the side of the stage, hidden from the crowd. Nudging my legs apart with his, he moves to stand between my thighs and plants a kiss on my lips.

  “I might steal this stool for later,” he teases, pressing his growing erection against me. His hand moves down the outside of my jean-clad thigh, pulling me tighter against his body. “I’m not sure I can play knowing you’re sitting right here, looking all hot.”

  I fake a pout at him. “I’ve been dying to watch you play again.”

  “We’re outta here as soon as this gig is over. I need to be alone with you.” He groans, his dark eyes lowering to gaze at my chest. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  Clutching the sides of his open shirt, I kiss his naked chest, right below the heavy black cross hanging from his neck.

  Letting out a deep breath, he pulls away. “Okay, baby. Time to go. You stay right here, all right?”

  I nod and push his hair out of his face so I can look up into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Ever.

  Sitting so close to the band is nearly deafening, but very exhilarating. The music vibrates through my body, pulsing through my veins. I can’t take my eyes off Storm as he plays his riffs and toys with the crowd. His stage persona is undeniably sexy, beckoning the fans to want him. I’m completely captivated by him, just as the fans are. I laugh as he crosses the stage and stands next to Vandal. They play together for a few moments, Storm grinning like a lunatic at Vandal, trying to get a smile out of him, but Vandal just shakes his head at him. The crowd laughs and screams Vandal’s name.

  “He’ll get bored of you.”

  I turn, the smile slowly fading from my lips.

  Up close, Jill isn’t very pretty. There’s a hardness about her, an emptiness to her eyes. If I met her somewhere else, as a stranger, I would feel sorry for her. I would wonder what made this woman look so angry and lifeless.

  “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” I throw back at her and turn my attention back to the band. I won’t let her bring me down.

  “Yes,” she says. “We will.” She steps in front of me with her smirking smug face, blocking my view.

  “Trust me, Jill. He won’t be requiring any of your holes anymore. I’ve got it covered.” I pray she doesn’t see through my fake confidence. “Run along now. I think I saw a group of teenage boys outside earlier who might be impressed with your plastic parts.”

  I exhale as she sneers at me and prances away on her stilt-like shoes. Amy was right—just nip this bitch in the bud, and don’t give her an inch. I will not let her get wind of my insecurities.

  Storm swoops onto me as the band leaves the stage, gathering me up in his arms and lifting me off the stool. I wrap my legs around his waist and he backs me up against the nearest wall.

  “Christ, get a room,” one guy mutters, walking by us. I’m too caught up in Storm to even be embarrassed, loving that he is not afraid of public affection. He’s sweaty and breathing heavy as he kisses me, but I don’t care. I just want more and more of him.

  He pulls away from my lips; his green eyes are bright and fiery. Being on stage truly brings him to life. Every part of him appears to be humming with energy.

  “I like having you here when I get off the stage.”

  It’s not the first time he’s alluded to wanting me to travel with him, and I skirt the issue every time. Of course, I want to be with him, but so many fears jump to the forefront of my mind. My fear of flying. My claustrophobia. Leaving Halo. My job.

  “Evie . . .” He lowers me back down on my feet. “I see your mind tweaking again.” He touches my nose affectionately with his fingertip. “No more of that. Let’s go. It’s time to commence what will forever be known as me and you.”

  My heart stops.

  It skips two beats. One for me. One for him.

  And then it pounds again, harder than ever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  TWO STEPS INTO MY HOUSE AND he turns, backing me against the door. His hand clicks the lock in place. I reach for the light switch, but he grabs my hand and pins it above my head. Above us, the moon is shining through the skylight, casting a dim blue ethereal light throughout the living room.

  He kisses me softly, sucking my bottom lip between his. Leaning my head back against the door, I open my mouth to him as his tongue slowly sweeps in and finds mine. His free hand goes to my blouse and begins to unbutton it.

  “I had this plan,” he says between kisses, “to go really slow with you,” he kisses my cheek, “and bring you roses,” he drags his lips down to my neck, “and be all romantic,” he nips my neck with his teeth, “and show you how special you are.” His fingers fumble with my buttons. “Fuck it.” He releases my hand and rips the front of my blouse open, tiny onyx buttons flying. He dives down to my chest, pulling my bra aside, his hungry mouth devouring my breast, his tongue rolling over my nipple.

  “I don’t need all that,” I murmur, gripping his shoulders, my pink nails digging into his flesh.

  He yanks my blouse down my arms and tosses it to the side. Without missing a beat, he reaches behind me to unhook my bra and tosses that, too. Seconds later, he has my jeans undone and pushed down to my ankles. He sinks down to his knees and pulls my pumps off then disentangles my jeans from my feet. He runs his hands from my ankles all the way up to my thighs, hooks his thumbs in my new silk panties, and slides them down and off. He kisses my inner thigh, his hands low on my hips, dragging his tongue all the way up before disappearing into my folds. I let out a small moan and grip his shoulders tighter. Lifting my leg, he bends it over his shoulder and delves in further, his tongue going in deep, his fingers splayed out to the side of my mound, spreading me apart for him. His tongue wanders up to capture my clit between his lips, sucking gently while he slowly slides a finger into my wet entry.

  My leg starts to shake and I grab a fistful of his hair. My hips instinctively start to buck toward his face, the urgency building. He pulls his finger out quickly, his tongue leaving my quivering bud, and he begins to kiss my tummy, his hands going around to cup my ass in his grasp. My pussy twitches from the sudden abandonment, aching for him to touch me again and bring me back to that climax that was so near.

  His large hands come up across my back and to my front, cupping my breasts, kneading them as he bites my hip. Then he leaves a trail of kisses over my pelvis, down my thigh bent over his shoulder, pressed against the side of his face. Just as my body starts to relax a tiny bit, he brings his fingers to my hot core again, sliding two in then slowly pulling them out, bit by bit, spreading them like tiny scissors as he does so.

  “Storm . . .”

  He silences me by licking my hooded clit, sucking it gently, then harder as his fingers work their magic inside me. My body starts to shake again, the climax starting to roll back in. He pulls away abruptly.

  “Oh, my God . . . Storm . . .”

  He stands, wrapping my leg around his waist and kisses me, his breath hot and tasting like me. “Please . . .” I say. He is driving me absolutely mad with desire. I grind myself against him, all inhibition flying out the window. I just need to feel him. Any of him. All of him.

  “What, baby?�
� he growls softly, taunting. He pulls off his shirt and my hands immediately caress his shoulders, his broad chest, my fingers gliding over his tattooed flesh. A light film of perspiration covers his skin and dampens his hair.

  “I need you,” I whisper, kissing him, sucking his tongue.

  “Tell me.” His fingers twist my nipples, gently at first, then harder, sending a bolt straight down my core to between my legs. “Tell me what you want,” he coaxes, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling my head back so his lips can trace my open neck.

  I drop my leg and reach for his belt, undoing the buckle.

  “I want you inside me . . . please . . .”

  “I’ve been dying to hear you say that, baby.” His lips crash back down on mine as he pushes my trembling fingers aside. He quickly pulls his belt off, out of the belt loops, then letting his jeans fall to his ankles.

  His stiff cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. I reach between us and stroke him, long and hot in my hand. Every part of him is beautiful, strong, and masculine. Being near him awakens every feminine gene in my body. He groans in my ear, his breathing heavy.

  “Your touch is what got me right from day one, Evie. You touch me so fucking soft and sweet. It makes me so fucking crazy for you.”

  He lifts me up with his hands, off my feet. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he slowly rubs the tip of his cock against my clit.

  “Is this what you want?” he asks, effortlessly moving my body so my lips slide up and down the length of him.

  “Yes . . . please.”

  He’s kicking his boots off as he’s lifting me up and down. I’m amazed at the strength of him and how effortlessly he can maneuver me around.

  He puts me down for a moment then picks me up again, swinging an arm under my knees and carrying me like a baby to the couch. He sits and holds me on his lap, against his chest, my legs across him.

  Our mouths meet hungrily, tongues dancing. He’s still holding me, one arm around my shoulders, the other under my knees. He lifts me slightly, his shoulders flexing, and slowly lowers me down.