Lyric & the Heartbeats

by Kole, Lana

  This was a slow burn that had been sparking and flickering to life over the past hour—no, the past few weeks.

  Henry’s annoying attention to detail, his stern voice as he told her to drink water or make it back to the bus or telling her to eat. The side glances as she flirted with the other alphas. Was it jealousy? Or just plain observation?

  She guessed it didn’t matter, at least not at the moment. Because Henry was consuming her every thought, had been for the last hour.

  Henry touching and teasing without meaning to. His fingers on her skin as he’d worked the needle back and forth, so close to the hem of her shorts she’d been close to begging him to touch her where she wanted it most. She’d spent the last hour imagining all the things he could do to her on this very same fucking table, and now…

  Lyric gasped as he fixed two fingers in the waistband of her shorts and tugged, stripping them off her legs in one smooth move as he nipped at her neck.

  The cool air played between her legs because… yeah. She hadn’t been wearing panties.

  Henry growled. “You’re telling me I sat there scenting you the whole time because you weren’t wearing panties?”

  Lyric gulped, but nodded, her smile pulling up at the corners of her lips. A girl couldn’t wait forever.

  “You wanted this the whole damned time… just as much as I did,” he muttered.

  He framed her hips on the table, leaned down, and nudged her chin up with his nose before sliding his lips left to kiss her.

  “Good. We have forty-seven minutes before the others return,” he murmured against her lips.

  “How do you even keep track of that?” she asked, her words trailing off into whispers.

  Lyric’s hands danced over his shoulders and the hard expanse of his stomach, trying to find a place to land as he kissed and teased her flesh.

  His hands framed the outside of her hips, then pulled her toward the edge of the table, toward him, his heat.

  She looped two fingers in his belt loops, pulling him against her, and she gasped as he rolled his hips into her. He was hard, and the bulge between his legs was an unspoken promise Lyric wanted. Tugging at the loops, she shimmied them an inch or two down his hips before he stopped her.

  “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do,” he explained, and moved her hands to the table.

  He curled her fingers around the edge of the table and then drifted his palms to her thighs, tracing designs into her skin.

  From the tops of her thighs to her hips, he teased and mapped every inch of her thighs, made the tingle between her legs spark and burn until she parted her lips to rush him.

  But at that same moment, he parted her thighs with his hands, the touch molten against her sensitive skin.

  She was practically shaking from anticipation, her core soaked and wet, her arousal permeating the air.

  Henry’s own scent was stifling, the warm tobacco and gin as intoxicating as the kisses he painted on her thighs.

  “I can guess what it is,” she breathed, parting her thighs a little more, making room for him.

  From between her thighs, he glanced up with a smirk, and Lyric melted a little more.

  He swiveled her on the table, taking a seat on the bench and spreading her out like a goddamned meal. She held her breath, anticipation halting even that most basic function as Henry dipped down. She could only see the crown of his head, the part of his dark hair, but she felt the warm touch of his lips as he mouthed at the spot between her pelvis and thigh.

  Close, but not close enough. She edged her hips close to him, and he paused, sharing another stern glance with her. Her fingers tightened over the edge of the table, and she waited, like he apparently wanted her to do.

  It figured. He controlled every other aspect of her life, he might as well enjoy the same thing in bed.

  Assuming they made it that far if he didn’t fucking—

  Lyric’s lips parted on a gasp as he finally flattened his tongue against her. It made her arms go weak, the texture of his tongue slick and soft as he tasted her. Her hands lifted to thread through his curls, but he grabbed them and wrapped them back around the table. Lyric groaned in frustration, but it quickly changed into one of pleasure as he pointed his tongue and flicked it over her clit. The bundle of nerves exploded and sent shards of ecstasy racing through her senses, and she gripped the table harder.

  “H-Henry,” Lyric gasped, her head dropping down. She lifted her lids and caught his gaze, the hazel depths alight with determination and arousal, his pupils eclipsing some of the swirling color.

  He lifted his head, the light glimmering off the shine on his lips, and he smirked. With one hand placed in the center of her chest, he gently pushed her backwards, and Lyric let herself be spread out on the table.

  The heat of his palms warmed her inner thighs as he spread her wide again, and cool air speared her before he eclipsed it with his mouth.

  He centered on her clit, pulling pleasure from her very core with every swipe of his tongue. Warmth washed over her like a wave, building until—

  Henry stopped, lifting his head, and Lyric picked hers up off the table to glare at him.

  “We’re rushed, or else I would be inside you,” he rasped.

  Lyric’s breath caught and her body tightened around nothing, as if mourning the loss of the possibility.

  “I want to take my time when that finally happens. No rushing, no time limits.” His words skittered across her skin like teases, and she hummed an approval because that was all she was capable of producing in the moment. Words were far from her mind, except his.

  “So think of this as a promise for when we have more than half an hour.”

  Lyric found her voice. “Okay.”

  Henry’s lips curled up, as if amused by her ability to form two syllables, and then he dipped his head down again. He nipped at her thigh before he traveled even lower and held her gaze as his tongue dipped out to tease her right at her core.

  Her head fell back as he circled her entrance with his pointed tongue, teasing his promise into every fiber of her being. It felt so good, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he would give her more. Maybe she was greedy, but right then she didn’t care.

  He drifted back up, the wet slide of his tongue purely intoxicating. She thought it couldn’t get any better as he learned her desires, her needs and preferences as he experimented, learning what made her cry out and dig her nails into the table.

  But then he finally circled her entrance with a digit, the tip of his finger blunt and thick as he spread her arousal. Cries and pleas shamelessly fell from her lips as he teased her, but it was only when she said his name again that he finally entered her. She squeezed around his finger, and he groaned into her, the sound vibrating against her most sensitive nub.

  Heat blazed from within, her blood rushing as her heart pounded, each drag of his tongue and press of his fingers just another drop of kerosene to the flame. His palm ghosted upwards, sliding over her hip and stomach to push her shirt up. He teased her nipples with his fingers, plumping and tweaking them, only adding to the ever-growing desperation.

  With a final press of two fingers inside her, Lyric cried out as the sparks Henry had been teasing into a flurry finally ignited, sending her flying. Light burst behind her eyelids as the shockwaves echoed through her body. Her hips undulated against the table, against his lips and fingers as he carried her through it.

  By the time she blinked her eyes open, she was reaching for Henry, pulling him up and over her to taste herself on his mouth. It was a sloppy kiss, but Lyric only knew that she needed some part of him in that moment. Her hands dropped, and she tugged the fly and zipper open on his pants, fighting with the waistband to get it out of the way.

  A low, rumbly groan poured out of Henry’s throat as she wrapped her hand around his hot, hard length. The tip was wet with precum, and Lyric spread it down his length, tip to knot, and squeezed once she reached the base. Henry’s hips kicked into her hand
s, and he choked his moan short before wrapping his lips around Lyric’s nipple.

  It sent echoes of pleasure skittering across her senses, and she stroked him harder, shoving his shirt out of the way, trapping it between his chest and her stomach. He arched his back, kicking his hips into her grip, and she felt him swell in her palm.

  “Fuck—Lyric,” he gasped against her skin.

  His cock kicked in her grip and warmth pelted her thighs and stomach, his groan low and desperate against her skin.

  She stroked him until he stopped her, his touch gentle on her wrist. He laid his head on her stomach. Hyperaware of every movement, every touch, she lifted her hand and stroked it through his hair. Her eyes drifted closed as they just breathed, letting the moment sink in.

  “Henry?” she asked, a smile in her voice.

  “Hmm?” he grunted, eyes still closed.

  “You broke your own rule,” she announced, her smile finally slipping free.

  “I’ll do it again too,” he muttered, cracking one hazel eye open.

  “Anarchy!” Lyric gasped, before sputtering into laugher. “That’s my guy.”

  The others returned just as Lyric was leaving the shower. She closed the door silently behind her, and her cheeks heated as her gaze danced over the table.

  Freshly sanitized, in case you were wondering.

  The mood in the bus was… lighter than she’d ever noticed before.

  Lyric glanced between Em, Odd, Nohen, Desi, and finally, Henry, whose dark gaze made her cheeks burn even hotter. It took her a minute to realize why it felt empty. Javier was staying in his truck, and that was where he’d be cooking and sleeping, though Henry had helped arrange a driver for him so he didn’t have to drive and cook. She stalled in the middle of the entranceway, torn between who to give her attention to. She really wanted to curl up in Henry’s lap, but something made her hesitate.

  The buzzing from her pocket ultimately made the decision for her, and Lyric glanced at the name on the screen and excused herself.

  “Hey, Andi! How are you?” Lyric asked.

  She closed the door to the bunking area and then opened her nest, sitting on the bed for privacy but leaving the door open.

  “Hey, you,” Andi greeted, and even miles apart from each other, Lyric could tell her best friend was hurting.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, heart already aching.

  Andi’s deep sigh said more than words ever could, and Lyric wanted, more than anything, to teleport across state lines and be there for her friend.

  “She probably doesn’t have long,” Andi whispered. “Mom gets weaker every day, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just feel…”

  “Helpless?” Lyric supplied softly. Her heart ached. “I’m so sorry, Andi. Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to come home early?”

  Andi paused, which told Lyric just how much she was struggling. It made her want to pack her bags right away and go home, tour be damned.

  But Andi cleared her throat. “Don’t you dare. There are only about two weeks of the tour left. I’ll be fine.”

  Lyric didn’t believe her, but she knew better than to press. Andi would shut down and block her out if she pushed too hard.

  “Only if you’re sure. The minute you want me there, I’ll be there. The label will understand.”

  Andi chuckled dryly. “I think you overestimate the label’s generosity. They wouldn’t be happy with us if you canceled the last few shows.”

  Lyric frowned. “I don’t really care if they’re happy or not.”

  Andi sighed. “It’ll be fine, Lyric. Thank you for offering. But I think the thing that’s keeping me together right now is knowing you’re out there kicking ass every night, just like we’ve been dreaming about for years.”

  Lyric scratched at a mark on her knee, seeing right through Andi’s lie. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Please don’t come home. I’m serious. Finish the tour. I’d feel too guilty if you left early, and I can’t deal with that too.”

  “Andi, you don’t need to feel guilty. The label will—”

  “Lyric, don’t push,” Andi bit out, her voice cracking. “The only thing that’s going right for me right now is you doing what you’re supposed to. I can’t handle the guilt of interrupting tour on top of everything else. I love you, and I know you’re coming from a place of love, but I can only handle what I have right now. When you get home, after tour, you can baby me all you want.”

  Lyric was quiet for a few agonizing heartbeats. “Okay. I’ll finish out the tour, and then I’m coming to be there for you, okay?”

  “Deal. I love you.”

  “I love you too. Let me know if you need anything in the meantime, alright?”

  “I will. I’m going to go check on her again. Try not to worry about me too much. This is your dream—enjoy it. Tell the others I said to be on their best behavior.”

  At the mention of the band, Lyric glanced out of her nest and toward the doors separating them.

  “I will. Bye, babe.”

  The call ended with a soft click, and Lyric’s gaze was glued to the door. To the chuckles and muted conversations throughout the bus.

  Was I really willing to interrupt tour and leave my band behind to run home?

  Yes. With no hesitation. Her best friend needed her, and she wanted to be there.

  But what about…

  I’m so damned selfish.

  What about the others? This wasn’t just her dream anymore. What about Odd, who’s been in this exact same position before? In the hands of an omega who controlled his future? What about Emerson, who hated performing but was pushing past his comfort zones every night to do just that?

  She brushed a thumb over her tattoo. And Henry?

  And Nohen and Javier, both of whom she hadn’t had enough time to get to know like she wanted?

  Lyric froze. If Andi had told her yes, that she needed Lyric by her side, what would she have done?

  The answer was easy.

  She would have figured out a way to leave the tour, to cancel the dates, to go home and be there for her best friend. No doubt about it.

  And what would that have meant for her band?

  Lyric would have left Emerson, Adra, Nohen, Henry, and Desi behind.

  “I think I’ve fucked up,” Lyric whispered to the floor.

  “What’d you do?” Desi asked softly.

  Lyric jumped in place and jerked her head up, finding Desi in the bunk room, hesitating beside her bag.

  “You scared me!” she breathed, relieved it wasn’t one of the guys.

  “Sorry,” Desi replied with a wince. “I didn’t mean to. You okay?”

  If she hadn’t asked, Lyric probably could have lied and brushed it off, bottled it up like she usually did. But it was like those two simple words were the key to undoing her tight grasp on her emotions. Her eyes burned with tears and she glanced down at her phone, her knuckles whitened where she gripped the device.

  Lyric had to face the truth. With just Emerson and Adra, maybe she could play this all off as having fun. Blowing off steam. But reality had been staring her in the face ever since the weekend they’d spent together, and after everything with Henry…

  “Ugh,” she groaned and dropped her phone onto the mattress before burying her face in her hands.

  The snick of the lock turning made her lift her head, and Desi dropped onto the bed beside her. A soft, comforting touch rubbed circles into her back, and Lyric leaned into her.

  “Is it Andi?”

  Guilt dumped on her like a bucket of cold water. Her best friend’s mother was dying. Lyric’s worries seemed trivial in comparison.

  “Yes and no,” she admitted.

  “Do you wanna talk about it?” Desi pressed.

  Lyric hesitated. Desi knew what was going on with all of them, she wasn’t blind. And maybe… maybe having an outside perspective would help.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Lyric admitted. She sta
red down at her hands, at the tattoo beneath the clear bandage.

  “Do any of us?” Desi countered softly.

  Lyric leaned away from her touch and dropped her head into her hands. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with anyone.”

  Shouldn’t have tried to tell herself it was just a fling, or temporary. Shouldn’t have even given herself the chance.

  Desi hummed. “Do you really believe that?”

  “What happens at the end of the tour?” When it was time for them to part ways? How could she make Adra go through that again?

  “What do you want to happen?”

  Lyric turned her head, stared up at Desi. Did it matter what she wanted?

  “I’m not ready for a pack.”

  Desi sucked her teeth and sent her a side glance. “You’ve already got a pack, Lyric. And I don’t think you mind as much as you thought you would.”

  “That’s not what this was supposed to be,” Lyric whispered.

  “The tour?”

  She nodded. “It was supposed to be playing music every night, trying not to kill Emerson for being an ass, and then packing up and going home at the end of all this. Nothing more.”

  “And now?” Desi questioned, though it seemed less like she cared about the answer, and more like leading Lyric to the truth.

  And now… Lyric couldn’t really imagine home without all of them.

  Another bout of laughter spilled into the bunk room from the main area, and her heart ached.

  “I don’t know,” Lyric admitted. “I don’t know what this looks like when this is all over. And there’s still so much time left on tour.”

  In hours and days? Two weeks probably didn’t seem like that much time.

  But in kisses and comforting touches, midnight conversations and shared, knowing glances? It was more than enough time for…

  For what?

  For falling in love?

  Lyric groaned and shook her head.

  Desi chuckled softly. “Lyric… whether you’re ready to hear it or not, whether you can believe it… you’re their omega. They’d do anything for you.”

  “I’m not just an omega,” Lyric growled.