Lyric & the Heartbeats

by Kole, Lana

  Lyric was tired of playing it safe. She wanted to taste more than just Javier’s cooking, and he must have finally seen that in her gaze, because the deepest groan was buried in his throat, and he dipped back down for another kiss before he plucked at the waistband of her leggings. He didn’t bother pulling them off just yet, but burrowed his hand against her skin, between her legs.

  She cried out as he touched her, and he swallowed the sound as he stroked his fingers through her wetness. He studied her like a new recipe as he played, finding what made her breath hitch and what pulled moans from her throat. Javier located her clit, stroked around it with a shift of his fingers, and sent pleasure shivering over every inch of her body. Lyric held onto him, ground into his touch, and asked for more with the tight grip of her fingers if not with her voice.

  He slid his fingers over her expertly, pulling gasp after gasp from her until the first waves of her orgasm washed over her. It was light and decadent, leaving her light-headed and giggly as she smiled lazily into their kiss. Damn, Javi was good with his hands.

  As the aftershocks of her orgasm spread out over her senses, Lyric reached down and fumbled at Javi’s waistband as their tongues dueled. She wanted him inside her, and she didn’t want to wait any longer.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  It took a long moment for her to realize the oven was yelling at them.

  Javier lifted his head from hers with a sigh, bracing himself on both hands planted on either side of her waist. “Dammit.”

  “Brownie break?” Lyric asked with a breathless laugh, leaning her head back against the cabinets.

  Javier’s groan faded into a chuckle, and Lyric sighed at the sight of him trudging to the oven in his unbuttoned jeans. A few beeps, the clatter of the pan, and the scrape of a plate against the counter later, and Lyric was still totally checking him out and waiting patiently. From his ass to the way his shoulders moved beneath his shirt. It wasn’t until Javier reached for a spatula that Lyric realized what he was doing.

  “Javi, I was kidding, come back,” Lyric whined, reaching out with grabby hands.

  “I’m coming,” he teased. “Or I was.”

  He turned with a plate in hand, a steamy brownie piled on the plate.

  Lyric’s mouth watered, and not just from the alpha stalking toward her.

  Javier reached between her legs, and Lyric’s breath caught, until she heard the slide of the drawer, and the edge bumped the back of her knees. Her cheeks flamed as Javi lifted a fork out. He gathered a crumbly piece of brownie on the fork and lifted it toward her lips. His gaze was so intent, the amber as deep as the chocolate of the delight he gifted her. Her teeth clinked against the fork, and she tilted her head back to release the utensil. The warm, gooey brownie melted on her tongue, and she hummed happily. “Wow,” she murmured, gazing up at him.

  It was one of those intimate moments rarely experienced outside a cheesy movie. They traded the fork back and forth, trading bites and soft murmurs, chuckles and teases until the plate was empty and Lyric wanted to taste nothing but Javi instead of the brownie.

  He set the plate aside and wrapped his arms around her hips, his hands framing her lower back and ass before he pulled her forward. Tilting her head up, Lyric opened her lips to him. He did taste like the brownie, but underneath that, the taste of Javier came through clear and strong. Spicy and citrusy at the same time, he cleansed her palate with kisses and soft touches until she was arching into him and tearing at the hem of his shirt. He stepped back, allowed her to strip it off him, and then it was only fair if he did the same to her. She pulled him close once again, her breasts pressed against his chest, against his warmth.

  His kisses were as sweet and decadent as the brownies he’d made, as the dessert he’d made with her in mind.

  But Lyric was past sweet, she wanted so much more than that. But before she could aim for the waistband of his pants, he beat her to it, sliding his hands down her spine and slipping them beneath her leggings. He pushed them off her hips, slid them down her thighs, and let them pool on the floor as he slipped off her shoes with them.

  “How many kitchen rules are we breaking?” she asked with a mischievous grin. The countertop was cold against her ass.

  “None. This isn’t my prep counter,” he explained, and tugged her to the edge of it.

  His bulge pressed against her, and Lyric found herself rocking against it, already seeking more than the single orgasm he’d given her. She fumbled at the waistband of his pants, and Javi helped her get them down his thighs, freeing his erection.

  The dusky flushed head of his cock was already wet, and Lyric couldn’t help herself. She reached out, wrapped her fingers around him, and stroked. He nudged his hips into her touch, framing her thighs on the counter and rocking into her touch.

  She sucked in a breath at the weight of him in her palm, at the way he slid through her fingers with a gasp similar to the ones he’d pulled from her own lips only moments ago.

  Rocking her hips closer to him, she was eager to feel him against her, inside her.

  “More?” she asked breathlessly.

  Javier must have had the same thought, because he lifted her up with ease, though Lyric was the one to guide him to her core.

  The blunt head of him pressed against her, and Lyric cried out as he slowly lowered her onto his cock. Inch by inch, he dropped her down until her ass met the tops of his thighs. She clung to him by his shoulders, her nails digging in at the fullness.

  But that was only the beginning. He pulled her up, and Lyric felt the delicious drag of him inside her, the way his fingers bit into her thighs, his breath against her neck. Then he thrust up at the same time he pulled her in, shoving a cry from her throat.

  “Javi—” Lyric gasped, but then he was moving her, beginning a rhythm that took her breath away with each push and pull of her on his cock.

  He felt so good, so right like this, and before she knew it another orgasm was cresting, looming over her with every stroke. And just when it was within reach, just when Lyric’s lips were parting on a cry, Javi pulled her close to his chest, tasted the silent whine on her tongue, and lowered her to the ground.

  Her legs were only slightly weak, she’d like to brag, but then Javi pulled her back to him. He slid his hands from her shoulders down her arms until he gripped both of her hands and planted them firmly on the countertop in front of her.

  Lyric’s heart pounded, and she wondered if he could feel her pulse against his tongue as he licked and nipped and teased the sensitive skin around her throat and across her shoulders.

  Javi bumped her feet apart, and she felt his hot length between her legs again.

  “Pajarita, you okay?” he asked.

  Lyric nodded, and reached a hand back to grip his hip, to pull him closer, to urge him to hurry up.

  His deep chuckle reverberated against her back, and she whined.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured.

  Then with a tilt of her hips and a single thrust, he pushed inside her again.

  She dropped her hand from his hip and braced herself on the counter as he fucked her. Who knew that gently spoken, sweet Javier could be so… much? In the best way.

  “Javi!” she cried out as he tilted her hips again, the head of his cock hitting her g-spot on each thrust and retreat.

  With one hand on her hip, he kept up his beautifully punishing rhythm, while the other slid up her side and tweaked her nipple, sending more shivers of pleasure along her body. With each slap of their sweat-slicked skin, Lyric flew higher, sang louder just like the bird Javi often referred to her as.

  “Javi, I’m so—” She moaned, her fingers tightening around the smooth countertop.

  “I know, pajarita, I know. Come on,” he cooed, and nipped gently at her shoulder.

  Even the press of his knot against her core with each thrust wasn’t what sent her over the edge, it was the gentle bite of his teeth in her skin. Not even sharp enough to leave marks, but a barely the
re echo of a promise that they could one day fulfill. Not today, maybe not even next month, but eventually, Lyric would make Javi hers.

  The thought sent her flying, made pleasure overwhelm her until it ripped the air from her lungs in a desperate cry, and she squeezed around Javi tightly. It made each thrust and retreat that much more intense, and the flutter of her walls around him only made her orgasm that much better.

  He barked her name into her shoulder as his rhythm stuttered, and when she was coming down from the high, Javi came, adding to her aftershocks with a sloppy kick of his hips and the tightening of his fingers on her skin.

  Almost drunkenly, they made their way to the couch together before collapsing into the cushions.

  Lyric groaned as she settled against Javi’s tan, smooth skin. There were no words that came to mind, so she just traced silly shapes into his skin.

  “I don’t know what I expected, Javi, but it wasn’t that.”

  He chuckled again, chest bouncing beneath Lyric’s cheek. “Lyric, I think you’ll discover I have many flavors.”

  She glanced up at him with an arched brow. “Oh yeah? Do I get to taste them all?”

  Javier brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “If you’d like.”

  “I’d like,” she answered instantly.

  “Then yes. I have a feeling we’ll have all the time in the world.”

  Lyric’s chest ached. They did have all the time in the world, if Lyric wanted it. And she did, she realized. Her pack wouldn’t be complete without Javi, it wasn’t an option to leave him behind.

  “You’re right,” she said, nuzzling into his chest. “We do.”

  Another day, another show, and one more day closer to the end of tour.

  But even after her shower, she still wasn’t cool, and between four alphas and her betas, Lyric needed some space.

  “I’m really hot still,” she complained. “I’m going to get some air, but I’m staying right beside the bus, don’t worry!” she told Henry. “I’ll be right back.”

  Henry retorted something smart, but Lyric let the door close behind her, effectively cutting him off.

  Lyric stopped at the edge of the woods, the bus in her line of sight, and sank down to the grass. Her breath puffed out a cloud in front of her face as she sighed, the air’s cool bite a little sharper than she anticipated. The hustle and bustle of the venue was still close, she could still hear the shouts between the crew as they readied everything to go.

  Bonded.

  Weeks ago, just the idea of such a thing would have terrified her. But instead… giddiness bounced around her chest and put a spring in her step.

  If this was a musical, she probably would’ve broken into a synchronized song and dance or something else equally embarrassing.

  Thankfully, she was just left with her thoughts.

  Still, her lips curled up, and she turned her head to the moon peeking through the clouds.

  Was everything prettier once you bonded, or was Lyric just crazy?

  Down the line of her connection with Adra, she sensed the same comforting satisfaction that she harbored in her own heart. And Emerson… while he was obviously playing a game with Nohen from the frustration, there was a deep contentment that she’d never felt before. Knowing that it, even partly, was because of her, made her chest ache in the best way.

  But even while she wanted nothing more than to run back on the bus and crawl into Adra’s or Emerson’s lap, or feed Javi some more of his own creations, she needed a momentary break from the overwhelming emotions.

  A part of her was suspicious. Things were so good right now… too good. Guilt clung to her, wrapped around her ribs, and snaked its way into her heart because her best friend had just lost her mom. It felt wrong to be so happy while she knew Andi was hurting.

  But instead, all Lyric could think about was… what was next?

  She couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Now that Lyric had bonded with Adra and Emerson, she realized she wanted a connection with each of them in the same way. She wanted them all and she couldn’t help herself.

  Just the imagery of watching them walk away was enough to make her heart pause. And while she didn’t know exactly what it looked like—buying a house together? Renting an apartment together? Getting out of the brownstone?—she knew that Adra, Emerson, and Nohen would be there.

  But what about Javi and Henry, and even Desi?

  Well, I’ve already broken my biggest rule. What are a few more?

  Lyric chuckled to herself and looked up at the clouds, the skeletal hands of the trees reaching for each other like forbidden lovers.

  What would happen if Lyric just… let it happen?

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  Was she finally willing to let go of all of the rules she’d stacked up around herself like armor?

  Lyric’s pulse raced as she considered the possibility.

  Lyric frowned as she envisioned her brownstone, awaiting her to fill its empty space. The thought of returning to the apartment didn’t seem normal to her anymore.

  No, her new normal consisted of shouted curses as colorful racing carts zipped around a pixelated track, her own cheers filling in the background. It consisted of Henry’s stupid safety rules, and Adra’s frustrated hums as he sketched, erased, and grumbled some more. Javi’s constant tinkering in the kitchen and searching up new recipes, asking her opinion on flavors and tastes.

  It was noise and color and affection and… passion. So much passion.

  Her empty brownstone seemed lackluster in comparison.

  At the end of it all, she didn’t want to go back to normal. But she also… Lyric recognized she couldn’t make herself jump in head first either.

  Little late for that. Bonded, remember?

  Just because she was bonded didn’t make all her issues go away. It wasn’t a magical Band-Aid over all the fucked up issues she had in her head.

  Her gaze landed on the side of the bus, and she watched a shadow pass behind the blinds.

  “What am I doing?” she asked herself, the words leaving her lips in a puff of white.

  Lyric was trying to make a decision by herself when she had an entire bus full of support just waiting for her to ask for help.

  And for the first time, she didn’t see it as a bad thing that they were ready to help her. Because she realized they didn’t expect her to need help, but they were there, ready to offer it to her if she wanted it.

  And right then?

  She did want it. Completely.

  Lyric stood, brushed the leaves off her butt, and turned to head toward the bus. Toward her… pack.

  A smile grew on her lips as she rolled the word over in her mind.

  They were her—

  A rustle of leaves caught her attention, and she jerked her head around to stare at the woods. Nothing but trees and the underbrush, the moonlight peeking through the branches.

  She turned back to the front, the hotel lights bright and beckoning, the rumble of the bus even closer.

  Movement caught her eye to the left, and she slowly stepped forward. “Okay, I know the buddy system is your rule and all, but this is taking it to another level if you’re out here, Henry,” Lyric said dryly, her heart rate picking up. She talked mostly to alleviate her own growing anxiety. Even if it was a prank, or a terribly timed attempt to keep an eye on her, Lyric was running for it.

  Sure, if it was Nohen or someone Henry had sent to keep an eye on her, she might feel silly later, but better to feel silly than to feel a whole lot of dead, or worse.

  Henry’s updates about the sex trafficking ring suddenly echoed in her head, and her heart rate skyrocketed.

  Lyric paused, straining to hear any footsteps or leaves crunching—and got a whole lot of nothing.

  Carefully, she squatted down, grabbed a rock off the ground, and tossed it behind her. As it landed, thumping and breaking some sticks and leaves, she took off.

  But she wasn’t fast enough. The lights of the venue were just past
the first line of trees, but they weren’t bright enough to penetrate the underbrush, and a hand wrapped around her head to cover her mouth as an arm circled her waist, trapping her arms at her side.

  She stilled immediately as the bitter scent of alpha overwhelmed her, but not one of hers. Acidic and pungent, the scent burned her senses, and she wrinkled her nose.

  “I don’t think so,” he taunted, voice deep and scratchy.

  Her heart stopped.

  “Didn’t really need both of us for this,” another voice, higher and raspier, said. The matching alpha came into view and she narrowed her gaze. “She was easy enough to catch. Don’t know why they made such a big deal about her.”

  “She’s a singer or something,” the stinky one said, the one behind her shuffling around.

  Lyric barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. They were kidnapping her and they hadn’t even heard of her? Rude.

  The only option she had left was to use her one advantage—that others assumed she was at a disadvantage. She’d used it all her life. Just because she was an omega, a woman, they assumed she was weak or helpless. Lyric fed into that, shrinking into the alpha holding her and whimpering.

  Adra’s satisfaction took a nosedive, and Lyric felt his tension, his worry permeate their connection. Through the line of trees, she heard the bus door slam open.

  “Lyric?” Adra’s voice rang through the night.

  Emerson’s voice echoed after his. Her fear must have travelled down their connection, and suddenly the bond seemed a whole lot cooler.

  The other laughed quietly, stepping forward to grab her face, his grip bruising as his hot breath washed over her. The other’s hand slipped away from her lips, but she didn’t scream, especially as he placed a knife to her throat. “This one’ll get us a pretty penny, hopefully.”

  So it was the omega traffickers.

  Lyric would be damned before she’d let herself become nothing more than a number. But how did she get herself out of this? The prick against her neck from the knife told her these alphas meant business.