Hearts Collide

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Hearts Collide Page 22

by Masters, Ellie

“There’s nowhere in the world where I wouldn’t hunt you down. You belong to me, Miss Piper Raines.” He fingered the delicate chain encircling her neck and gripped the clasp, tugging her close for a kiss. “Never forget it.”

  Her entire body burned beneath his kisses while the rest of the world melted away. With the mingling of their breaths, the urgency of his kiss, and the promise pressed into her soul, Bent became her world. She had become his as well. The beating of her heart slowed to a solemn pace.

  He belonged to her.

  The promise encircled her neck.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She gave a reassuring squeeze to his hand.

  Tonight, after the ceremony, a tiny lock would fasten the chain in place. Only Bent would hold the key. He would fasten her to him and cleave them together for a lifetime. Never had she thought she could feel a deeper contentment.

  “Does it feel like only three weeks?” His question whispered against her cheek. “Tell me we’re not crazy.”

  “We’re not crazy.” She pulled his hands around her waist and leaned her head against the expanse of his chest. “Ash knew the first time he saw Skye. Compared to them, we’re slow pokes.”

  “It’s still been only a couple months.”

  “Wonderful months.” She breathed out a sigh. “I’m going to miss having you all to myself.”

  “You’ll always have me all to yourself.”

  “True, but it’s time for Angel Fire to bring back the magic.”

  His band would steal him away. Bent would no longer be exclusively hers. She would have to share him, and while the idea he would be playing again brought intense joy to her heart, she couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.

  His grin pressed against her cheeks. Angel Fire had plans to hit rehearsals hot and heavy in preparation for their upcoming tour. Forest’s most unconventional plans for a VR experience dominated the marketing plan and already drew a buzz in the music world. An exclusive paid fan experience, Forest planned on introducing his virtual concert experience to the world.

  Piper sensed good things in the future.

  For the past three weeks, she and Bent had been exploring the country. Their path meandered north and south, east and west, often backtracking as the Porsche devoured the miles of open road. There’d been no plan, no roadmaps. They chased freedom and an inevitability which couldn’t be denied.

  That potential surged between them with the same fury as the water cascading over the falls.

  A black limousine pulled up behind them, and they turned around. Bent’s bandmates tumbled out. Ash helped Skye out of the low car, her swollen belly was growing by the day and the first Angel Fire baby would soon make its appearance.

  Spike, Bash and Noodles followed. Grins split their faces, then their jaws dropped as the power of Niagara couldn’t be ignored. Ryker exited next, and he helped out his beautiful fiancée, Tia Myers. Those two would be on a very specialized team, one Piper hoped would never see action, but was tied to the potential freedom of her brother, Paul.

  Tia led Forest’s surgical operation team. If Forest’s specialized team encountered difficulties, or their targets were wounded, Tia’s surgical team would fly in. Forest had feelers out over the globe searching for Paul and the man who’d taken him. A personal vendetta, Forest had a personal reason to find John Snowden. She prayed for Paul’s rescue every day, but so far Forest had come up empty handed.

  Speaking of, where was Forest? He hadn’t exited the vehicle with the rest of the band.

  “Holy crap!” Bash ran up and thumped Bent on the back. “This is fucking amazing.”

  “Yup.” Bent tugged Piper to his side and tucked her in close. “It’s insane.”

  Ryker and Tia came to stand by them. Ryker edged Bash out of the way. “You ready for this, pal?”

  “More than ready. You?” Bent gave his friend a strange look.

  “Def.” Ryker gave Bent a fist bump. “We going to stand here all day?”

  Noodles and Spike walked to the edge of the observation platform and leaned far over the railing. Piper’s belly dropped, worried one of them might tumble over. They seemed to be having a great time, taking selfies and eyeing a couple of girls standing not too far away.

  Ash and Skye joined their little gathering, grins filling their faces.

  “Bring back memories?” Bent turned to Ash and Skye.

  Skye smiled and placed a hand over her belly. “Yes, it’s surreal. I can’t believe it’s been over a year.”

  Ash kissed his wife. “Forty-nine to go.”

  “Forty-nine?” Piper’s brows knitted together.

  “It’s a long story, one that begins with a very lovely couple we met here.”

  Piper had heard the story of how Skye and Ash met and married, but didn’t remember another couple being mentioned.

  “I wonder what Ben and Edna are doing today?” Ash gripped Skye’s hand, then his gaze dropped to her belly. “Doing okay?”

  “I’m good. There’s time.” Skye turned to Piper. “I’ll tell you about Ben and Edna later.” Her brows pinched together, as if she were in pain. Whatever it was seemed to pass and she turned to Bent. “You ready, big guy?”

  “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my entire life.” Bent glanced around. “Where the fuck is Forest?”

  “He’ll be here,” Skye said. “He’s busy on a call, but will meet us at the courthouse.”

  “Then let’s go.” Bent grabbed Piper’s hand and pulled her toward the limo.

  * * *

  An hour later, Bent and Piper found themselves before a Justice of the Peace. The men of Angel Fire stood as witnesses for Bent. Skye and Tia stood for Piper. She’d been worried when Bent mentioned having the entire band stand as his Best Men, because she had no one in her life to stand by her side, but evidently, the Angel Fire family had taken her under their wing. Without having to ask, Skye separated from Ash’s side and stood beside Piper while the Justice officiated the wedding. A simple ceremony, it couldn’t have been more perfect.

  With a scratching of their names, and vows exchanged, Piper Raines became Piper Hawthorne. Her life couldn’t be more complete, but then something unexpected happened. Bent went to his knees.

  “Piper, luv.” The deep rumble of his voice raced across her skin and lit every nerve on fire.

  It was time to get this man alone and do wonderfully wicked things together.

  Why was he on his knees? They’d already exchanged rings.

  He tugged something out of his pocket; a long, thin case. “I had this made for you.” He extended the case.

  Why her hands shook, she didn’t understand, except the expression on Bent’s face said there was something important hidden within that case. She had his ring around her finger and his collar around her neck. Later tonight, in an intensely personal ceremony, he would add a lock, irrevocably joining them not as man and wife, but something much more profound. What could possibly be in that case which required him going to his knees?

  She took it, mute with a thousand questions rattling around her head. When she didn’t immediately take the case, he thrust it into her hand.

  “There was a time when all I could think about was making you leave. I did things I’m not proud of. It’s time to make it up to you.”

  He’d done many horrible things, but this seemed overly specific.

  “Open the box, Piper.”

  She suddenly glanced up, realizing everyone was looking at them. Not them. They were all focused on her and the box Bent had shoved into her hand.

  Skye put a hand on Piper’s shoulder. “Open it, Piper. It’s a gift from all of us.”

  Her entire being shook, but she managed to grip the black box. Slowly, she lifted the lid. Paul’s pen, the white raven stared back at her. It reeked of brine. With a gasp, she fell to her knees.

  “How?”

  Bent wrapped her in his arms. “I had another one made for you, to replace the one I lost, but then Noodles and the gang went and foun
d it.”

  “Found it?”

  A smile lit Noodles’s face. “Bent told us about the pen. How it was lost to the tide. Ash is a believer in fate, so we gathered for beach clean-up and scoured the rocks below Bent’s suite.”

  “It took a few days.” Ash chimed in.

  “But we weren’t giving up.” Ryker beamed.

  The door to the judge’s chambers banged open. Forest’s frame filled the doorway and his undeniable power radiated through the space.

  “I found him.”

  “You found Paul’s pen?” Piper couldn’t help the joy bubbling inside of her. She turned to everyone, not sure who to thank first.

  Bent glanced at Forest and they exchanged a nod. Bent’s powerful presence wrapped around her. “No, Piper. We found him.”

  She glanced between Bent and Forest. Her gaze skittered around the room, not understanding the somberness of the expressions of her new family, but then Bent’s words sank in.

  “You found Paul?”

  “Yes.” Bent wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “The gang found your pen yesterday, and we found the men holding Paul.”

  “How?”

  “Call it fate,” Ash said. “We’ve been scouring that beach for days. Forest found the pen last night, and he got a call this morning.”

  Ryker and Tia glanced at Forest. His features darkened with fury.

  “I’m sorry I missed your wedding,” Forest said. “I’ve been on the phone with my contacts all day, but it’s confirmed. How’s that for a wedding gift?”

  She had no words. The moment she thought she had everything, Bent and his unique friends had given her two impossible gifts. They welcomed her into her family, and maybe, just maybe, they would reunite her with the only family she had left.

  Piper didn’t believe in fate, but with the power of Angel Fire behind her, and the love of a fiercely protective man, she believed anything was possible.

  THE END

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  SNEAK PEAK of Heart’s Divided, Book IV

  an Angel Fire Rock Romance

  The air shifts as the door opens and closes with a thud. The intrusion is felt more than heard, a pressure rolling along Holly’s skin, chasing the clashing of cymbals, and punching her gut with the deep bass of the drums.

  Soundproofed, the room insulates customers from the noise within and traps her in a private world, one this stranger dares to disrupt. Common curtesy dictates a certain degree of respect for another’s privacy. Top on that list is not barging in on someone in a booth.

  This is her space.

  Her refuge from an otherwise crappy day.

  Spinning around, she braces to give a good dressing down to the asshole who dares to ruin her solitude, but finds herself struck speechless instead.

  Holy Hellfire, the guy is hot!

  The look in his eyes steals her breath. Not a word is exchanged between them, but he speaks volumes with those eyes and his intent is clear. She knows how his lips might move in a kiss and how his hands would caress the curves of her body, all while leaving pleasure in their wake. His single-minded thoughts leap across the space between them and make her forget what she wants to say.

  With the kind of face chiseled out of granite, his strong arched brows rise above eyelashes so thick they’re practically illegal, but that’s nothing compared to the hunger brewing in his eyes. The potency of his presence is catastrophic and sends her entire body into a quivering ball of need. A ball cap covers his head, and from what she can see he either shaves or is bald. Many women don’t find that appealing, but that rugged look is her Achilles heel.

  His lips draw into a hard line across his face and promise decadent torture. The prominence of his jaw curves down to the strength of his neck, highlighting twining cords of muscle which ripple across his entire body, defining strong arms, a firm chest, a tighter than tight abdomen, bold thighs, and the outline of his prowess between his legs.

  Wait? Is he… hard?

  Her gaze snaps to his eyes and the truth reflects in their depths. He owns it too, unashamed of his aroused state. That confidence makes him incredibly sexy. His strong hands rest in the front pockets of his jeans and force her gaze to travel the expanse of his body and back to the growing bulge behind his zipper.

  He allows this, giving her time to admire him as he does the same to her. He’s unaffected by her examination, as if he’s used to being ogled, but then it’s well deserved. The air crackles between them, an electric current connecting them in a wild spin of sexual heat. A grin splits his face and a twinkle gathers in his eyes. He approaches the window, lowers the shade, and plunges them into complete privacy.

  “You and me. Now.” His voice is deep, riveting, laced with inevitability and full of command. It’s like he knows all her buttons and hits each one in a carefully coordinated attack with only one objective in mind. He’s a man ready to fuck.

  It’s a struggle to not fall under his spell. She gives her head a little shake, but it’s not enough to throw off the effect he’s having on her. She desperately tries to regain her footing.

  “Look, the booths are rented by the hour at the sales counter,” she says. “If you want time in here, you’re going to have to schedule it with Bill.”

  “I’m here now. What do you say we have our own private jam session? I’m sure I can teach you a few things.” He’s not interested in playing on the drums and as for teaching her a few things…

  “Look, I don’t know who you are, but barging in here is rude. Suggesting you can teach me a thing or two, that takes balls.”

  “Trust me, I know my way around the drums.” His gaze meanders suggestively over her body. “Among other things…” His expression smolders and makes her knees buckle. “You’ve got amazing tits.”

  What? But she doesn’t react to that comment. No. He can say whatever he wants about her tits, but insinuating she needs help with the drums? That goes too far.

  “You think I need lessons?”

  “You look like you know a thing or two…for a girl. If you want, we can start with a little drum lesson before moving on to the fun stuff.”

  “The fun stuff?” The guy might be hot as sin. He may have set her body on fire from across the room, but to imply her drumming is subpar because she’s a girl is a step in the wrong direction.

  “Let me get this straight…” She plants her fists on her hips and cocks her left hip forward. “Because I’m a girl, I need lessons?”

  “I’m really good on the drums.”

  “So am I.”

  He arches a brow, leans against the wall, and kicks a heel over his opposite foot. Every movement, from the smirk on his face to the powerful flexion of his thighs, is designed to devastate and make women stupid.

  “I liked what you were playing,” he says, “but you’re only playing part of it. Most people can’t handle the complexities of the full piece. I can show you how to—”

  “Don’t bother.”

  She can play Angel Fire’s drum solos backward and forward without missing a beat. He’s right that she is only playing part of it, but that’s on purpose. Her entire goal is to break down the frenetic energy of what one man can do into several different parts twenty kids can play. He thinks she can’t handle the whole thing because she’s a girl? That’s wrong and ends this conversation.

  She places her sticks in her stick bag and stands before she realizes he’s closed the distance. He fiddles with the button of his jeans and flicks it free, revealing the brass teeth of a zipper. The molten heat of his gaze lands on her lips and his brow arches suggestively. There’s no question as to what he intends. Even now, his fingers hover over the tab of his zipper.

  The heat in the room skyrockets and she licks her lips. Her entire mouth goes dry while other parts of her anatomy throb. Sex on a stick comes to mind, and he fits the expression to a T.

 
She needs to forget the needy pulsations his promise stirs, because she wants what he offers with a desperate hunger. But she fell for that once and vowed to never put herself in a position where she might get hurt, or ridiculed, again. He’s obviously used to hasty fucks, but she’s not. She focuses on that, feeding an anger which quickly fades beneath her desire to live out a fantasy.

  Focus!

  She’s not the kind of girl ruled by hormones who would fuck a no-name stranger. No matter how he stirs up her desire to do exactly that.

  Anger.

  She needs to focus on why she can’t take advantage of what he’s offering. Regaining control, she spits out vitriol she doesn’t feel.

  “I have no idea who the hell you think you are, but you can turn around and get your sexy ass out of here right now.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” His arrogance feeds the needy parts of her soul. “Not until we work this out between us.”

  “What?”

  He gives a sexy grin. “Trust me. We’re going to have fun.”

  “I don’t know what you think we’re going to do, but I can say that sex is most definitely not on the table.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure it is, but if you’re not interested in the table, the wall will do just fine. Or the floor.”

  “I’ll scream,” she counters, struggling to maintain control.

  “Oh, you’ll definitely scream,” he says with smugness.

  She’s never met a man with the confidence this one exudes. He shows no sign of leaving and blatantly checks her out from crotch to tits. And the scariest thing is she believes he can do exactly as he claims.

  “I’m serious,” she says.

  “So am I.”

  He doesn’t move, but then he doesn’t need to. His entire presence fills up the small room made much smaller and more intimate with the blinds pulled down.

  A knock on the door makes her jump. Bill, the store manager, pokes his head inside. The expression on his face is unsure, switching between protectiveness and embarrassment. Does she really look like this is what she wants?

 

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