Lyric & the Heartbeats

by Kole, Lana

  With one arm around her waist and shoulders, he rolled them, keeping himself seated inside her the entire time. When the mattress was soft beneath her, Henry hard and hot above her, he moved at his own pace. He slid deep inside, tilting her hips up and nudging himself against that spot inside her that sent bursts of pleasure across her senses with every thrust.

  Henry was desperate now, she could tell from the cadence of his breath, from the way he fisted the bedsheets beside her head. From the way his hips slapped into hers, the sounds reverberating off the walls in a symphony only they could create.

  With every thrust, his knot nudged at her core, threatened to stretch her open. Lyric keened, tilted her hips up, and tried to pull him closer with her fingers clawing into his back and side.

  Thinking of the tattoo, the mark, made her think of another type of mark. One she couldn’t escape.

  Instead of saying it aloud—the words were too caught up in the moans escaping her throat anyway—she tilted her head to the side.

  It was instinct. She wanted a mark, and baring her throat would give Henry the green light.

  Lyric cried out, squeezed around him, and rocked her hips up to meet his thrusts as he lowered his head.

  His teeth nipped over her neck, and she went limp beneath him as pleasure scattered over her senses. A part of her not totally lost to pleasure recognized that it wasn’t a mark, not the irreversible kind, but Lyric didn’t care in the moment.

  She wrapped a leg over the back of his thigh, trying to push him deeper inside her. His knot pressed against her core again and she moaned.

  Lyric wanted it. Wanted to feel him stretch her open and fill her up in the way only an alpha could.

  A part of her recognized how crazy she sounded, at least to Lyric of six weeks ago. But now, now she wanted to share something with Henry that would be theirs.

  Something no one could take from her or hold over her head. Something that she had control over, and even though Henry was the alpha, even though he could crack her in half if he wanted, Lyric knew every shred of control was clenched between her fists.

  So she tightened her grip on the reins and tugged.

  Henry grunted, his breath cool against her skin, at least compared to the heat bubbling beneath the surface.

  “Do it,” she urged, reading the apprehension in his features. Her hands clawed at his back, and finally, with a groan that she felt in her bones, he rolled his hips into her harder. His knot caught at her opening, stretching her to the point of discomfort, but only for a split second before he was inside.

  Lyric whined as he stopped her from moving with his hands on her hips, pinning her to the mattress, trapping her on his knot. He slid a hand to her core, swiped his thumb over her clit, and sent her reeling.

  That was all she needed. She tumbled over the edge, pleasure bursting inside her and tightening her around him. It was different than anything she’d ever felt before—since she’d never been knotted before.

  God, had she been missing out.

  Pleasure tumbled all around her, a kaleidoscope of colors and senses until she lost herself in it. And just when her senses were coming to her, just when she was catching her breath, Henry would roll his hips into her, pressing his knot inside her in a slightly different way, and it would set her off again.

  “Henry,” she whined, dragging out his name in a desperate plea.

  She’d wanted to hear her name on his lips like that, not the other way around.

  “Jerk,” she teased once she caught her breath, once the room quit spinning enough for her to focus on the alpha at the center of her ecstasy.

  Henry chuckled, his chest bouncing beneath her cheek—and when had he flipped them over? When had she collapsed against him in a drug-like stupor?

  Lyric grumbled affectionately, nipped at his skin before the glint of his piercings caught her eye. With a mischievous grin, Lyric wrapped her lips around one of his nipples and tugged at the barbell as gently as possible, but Henry’s hips jerked up into her at the motion, which sent his knot shifting around inside her. It was a cycle that ended with her calling out his name at the same time he finally—blissfully—shouted hers.

  “Lyric,” he groaned, the sound deep and dangerous and intoxicating just like the alpha himself.

  His hips ground into hers, and he pulled her down onto him. She felt every pulse of him inside her, his knot throbbing with each release.

  It sent off another round of fireworks inside her, and Lyric dragged her lips across his skin as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Finally,” she breathed, resting her head against his pec.

  “Finally what?” he asked a long, long moment later.

  “I wanted to hear you say my name like that,” she admitted.

  He stroked a hand through her hair, combing the damp strands over her shoulder to cascade over the both of them. “All you had to do was ask.”

  Lyric tightened herself around him, pulling another curse from him on purpose, but it backfired.

  “Are you trying to test me?” he growled dangerously.

  Lyric propped her head on his chest and stared up at him, his knot still full and totally capable of wrecking her.

  “What if I am?”

  “I’ll try not to make you regret it.”

  Lyric gasped as he rolled them back over, stirring himself deep within her.

  He tried all right.

  Despite the easy atmosphere on the bus, the interview haunted her for the next few days.

  No, not the interview itself. Her own worries, insecurities. She must have blocked them subconsciously, but all it took was imagining what he must have thought of her—a weak, poor little omega—and her teeth were grinding together in frustration.

  She hadn’t worked so fucking hard to be seen as nothing more than an omega. No update had been provided by the magazine, and it would probably be weeks before the interview ever saw the light of day.

  Am I really going to stress over that interview until it comes out?

  Lyric sighed, exhaling the smoke she’d pulled into her lungs from the pipe Desi had passed to her.

  “You’ve been stressed, hit it again,” Desi chided, lifting her hands away when Lyric tried to pass it back to her.

  “No! Dammit!” Emerson groaned, catching her attention, as well as the red letters of defeat filling the TV screen.

  A flame snicked to life at the end of Lyric’s thumb, and she tilted the lighter over the mouth of the pipe as she inhaled.

  Hazy smoke filled her lungs and a comfortable cloud of ease lessened the tension in her shoulders.

  Desi accepted the small pipe when Lyric passed it back a few seconds later.

  “Sucks to suck,” Nohen teased Emerson with a smirk.

  Lyric’s lips twitched as she watched them bicker. Emerson would never learn.

  Ever since Em discovered Nohen had played games professionally, it had become his personal mission to beat him at least once. Letting Lyric win hadn’t counted.

  So far, it was still a dream, and Nohen wasn’t one to let him forget. He liked to push Emerson’s buttons in the same way she liked to push Henry’s.

  Though Henry had done a great job of pressing all the right buttons the night before.

  Lyric’s cheeks flushed.

  Pack’s coming together nicely…

  Lyric pushed away the ghost of her mother’s voice, ignored the jealous approval she imagined would fill her tone.

  “How much longer until we park?” Desi asked.

  She laid her head on Lyric’s shoulder and passed Adra the pipe when he motioned for it.

  Henry tapped his fingers against his tablet a few times before he hummed. The rumbly sound reminded her of the way he’d hummed against her neck with his head buried in her shoulder.

  Her cheeks flushed and she crinkled the bag of gummy bears beside her.

  “About an hour. Maybe two.”

  That was too long for Lyric to sit here stirring in her own though
ts. But what could she do?

  “Quit thinking so hard, you’re killing my buzz,” Desi muttered.

  “Sorry,” Lyric responded.

  If only it was so easy.

  “Still thinking about the interview?” Adra inquired.

  Lyric glanced over at him, his dark gaze all gentle and knowing, and she shrugged one shoulder, the one not occupied by Desi.

  The weight on Lyric’s right shoulder lifted, and Desi shoved her off the couch. “Go cuddle with your alpha, I want the couch to myself.”

  Lyric scoffed, but it was a lot easier to walk across the short space and curl up in Adra’s lap than she wanted to admit.

  “So?” he prompted.

  Nohen and Emerson had paused in their bickering, giving Lyric all of their attention, and her cheeks flushed. She smothered the urge to burrow her head in Adra’s chest, and instead glanced down at her fingers she twisted together anxiously.

  Her head was foggy with the gentle high from the weed, and it was just enough to jumble her thoughts and loosen her tongue.

  “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about it. It pisses me off.”

  “What part bothers you the most?”

  Lyric shrugged. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t bother me at all. Being in the public eye, I should be used to having judgment passed on me, and sometimes it’s easier to let it go than others. I just—ugh!” Lyric groaned. “After everything I’ve accomplished, everything I’ve done, that guy still saw me as—”

  She cut her words short, letting her frustration fill in the blanks. At this point, she felt like a scratched record, but that was how it had always been for her. Her entire life was filled with people only glancing over the surface without deeming her worthy of seeing what was beneath.

  But they don’t.

  Lyric had to accept it—that was all some would see her as.

  “You are an omega,” Emerson said.

  Nohen nudged him in the side, a warning expression painting his lips in a frown, but Emerson waved him off.

  “You’re not just an omega though, and we know that. You know that.”

  “You can’t control what other people think about you,” Adra interjected softly, his voice rumbling beneath Lyric’s cheek.

  “I know, I know,” she murmured. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Adra’s arms tightened around her waist, and she tilted her head up to him.

  She didn’t even have to ask, he just dipped his head down and gifted her with a soft, gentle kiss, a press of lips that was comforting. It made her chest warm and fuzzy.

  “You taste like sugar,” he announced.

  “Oh, sugar,” Lyric said, and reached an arm out toward the opposite couch. “Gummy bears.”

  “No,” Desi replied, cheek smushed against the couch, eyes closed as she hid a smile. “Get them yourself.”

  Lyric had a perfected whine ready to be let out, but Nohen grabbed the bag from the couch beside Desi and brought them to her.

  “Yes,” Lyric hissed before blowing a raspberry at Desi. “Nohen’s my favorite beta.”

  Nohen snorted, snagging the bag and pouring himself a handful of multicolored bears while Desi snickered. “Well, I’m not the one giving you orgasms for breakfast, so that’s a given.”

  A red gummy bear sailed across the bus to bounce off the side of Desi’s head in return.

  The rest of the drive was easy, and Lyric dozed on and off as she was passed around from alpha to alpha to Nohen, cuddling and soaking up all their warmth.

  And in her hazy, half awake state, she kept returning to what Adra had said.

  “You can’t control what other people think about you.”

  He was right.

  She would never truly know what others thought of her.

  Will the world ever see her as more than an omega?

  What would she do if she never got the answer to that question?

  Does it even matter?

  As the bus rolled to a stop at the venue, and one by one, they stood up and stretched, Lyric decided it didn’t.

  The only thing that mattered was that these people, her bandmates, her alphas—she blushed just thinking the phrase—saw her as Lyric.

  “I’m not tired,” Lyric argued as she and her bandmates walked through the venue.

  “Well, I am.” Nohen smiled. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

  Lyric could say yes… it would just mean she wouldn’t be doing very much sleeping.

  And at the moment, that didn’t sound all that bad.

  “I’d love that,” she said, glancing up at him as he held the door open.

  “Good,” he responded simply.

  Lyric stepped through the door, and as the cold night air curled around her, she leaned closer to Adra.

  “Oh my god, it’s her! Lyric!”

  A woman’s voice called her name, and Lyric turned toward the excitement, only to see an alpha shove the security guard to the side and leap the metal barricade before running right for her. A swish of blond hair and an overly enthusiastic smile headed her way, t-shirt and sharpie clutched in hand. “Can I please get your autograph?” she called out, waving the shirt in the air.

  Lyric wanted to laugh as the lumbering security guard caught his balance and headed for the woman. This was someone whose excitement overrode their common sense, and Lyric grinned.

  “It’s fine,” she called out to the guard. The woman’s smile grew. “Hey, yeah, I’d be happy to sign that for y—”

  “Back off,” Emerson growled, stepping in front of Lyric and blocking her with an extended arm. Adra stepped closer and pulled her into his side.

  “Where’s security?”

  Heat blanketed her from the back as well, and she glanced over her shoulder to see a not too happy Henry glaring at the fan.

  Lyric peeked around Emerson’s arm with a frown, trying to tug it out of the way.

  “Hey, what’s the big deal? I can sign her shirt, it’s no problem.”

  “She’s an alpha,” Emerson grumbled, not budging.

  Lyric huffed. “You’re an alpha. Move, let me sign her shirt.”

  It didn’t matter if the woman was an alpha, she was just excited to see her favorite artist. This woman only saw a musician.

  “But—” Emerson began, but Lyric finally ducked under his arm and waved him off before he could grab her again.

  “Hi there, thanks for coming to the show. You have a shirt for me to sign?” she asked.

  She stopped, shirt clutched in her fist as her gaze darted over Lyric’s shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I’ve just been a fan for a while, and my little sister is obsessed with your music. The shirt’s for her, not me. And now I’m rambling, sorry again.”

  Lyric smiled, trying to hide her irritation with her band. “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it, they’re just a little overprotective.”

  The woman extended her hand, the fabric dangling, and handed her the sharpie before stepping back out of reach. Was she keeping her distance because of the alphas looming close behind Lyric like guard dogs?

  They were scaring her, and it made Lyric’s hackles rise.

  After she signed the fabric, she handed the shirt back and smiled. “Since the shirt is for your sister, do you want a picture?”

  She froze for a split second, her mouth hanging open, before she nodded. “What? Are you serious? Yes!”

  Lyric grinned as the fan shoved the sharpie in her pocket and pulled her phone out.

  She wanted to blow Emerson a raspberry as she stepped out of his looming shadow and put her arm around the female alpha.

  “Is a selfie okay?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Lyric replied.

  Their faces reflected on the device as the camera came up, and Lyric shifted closer to get in the frame more.

  They were about the same height, so their cheeks bumped. The woman’s smile was blinding as Lyric tapped the red button.

  “Wow, this is awesome. You’re so
sweet, thank you for signing her shirt. And the picture.” Her gaze trailed over Lyric’s shoulder, and she cleared her throat. “I should let you guys get back to your night. Travel safe!” Her smile was genuine as she stared down at Lyric’s scribbled signature on the fabric.

  “It’s no problem. Thanks for coming. Tell your sister I said hello.” Lyric smiled and waved her off, glaring at the security guard to make sure he didn’t harass her until she was on the other side of the barricade.

  Lyric sighed as the woman disappeared from sight and turned to her alphas.

  She pulled up short at the expressions on their faces.

  “What was that?” Henry questioned, voice sharp as a blade.

  Lyric frowned and let her gaze trail from one alpha to the next. Adra, of course, was the most relaxed, but even he had a tension in his shoulders that seemed misplaced.

  “That was me signing a fan’s shirt and taking a selfie. What’s the problem? It happens all the time.”

  At least it did with other artists. The woman hadn’t done any harm, so what was the big deal?

  “The problem is that she could have been a threat, and you just brushed us off.”

  Lyric crossed her arms. “No. She wasn’t a threat. Once I recognized that, and realized you were overreacting, I did what any artist does and signed her merch.”

  “She was an alpha.”

  “So are you saying that all alphas are threats now? You’re alphas.”

  “Let’s discuss this more on the bus,” Henry said, shooting a look toward a nosy security guard.

  Lyric bit her tongue and nodded, turning and making her way for the bus without waiting.

  Annoyance bubbled beneath her skin, and while Lyric knew scratching at it would only make it worse, as soon as she stepped on the bus, she turned and faced the three of them like they were a firing squad.

  “So?”

  “That was an alpha, who jumped a fence, and shoved aside a security guard, yet you decided she wasn’t a threat?” Henry asked, voice dangerously low.

  Lyric crossed her arms. “She wasn’t a danger. She was just excited.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t make it harder for us to protect you. But that’s exactly what you did just now,” Henry continued, voice softer but expression no less stern.