ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Werewolf Rider (MC Shifter Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Paranormal Romance Short Stories) (64 page)

The guitarist launched into the opening melody, and the crowd went wild. Relative Gravity, their breakout hit, was what everyone had come for. Sordid View wasn't going to hold back; what the audience wanted, they provided.

When Relative Gravity finished, Lysander brought them into the next song. And then the next. Track by track they moved across albums and years, playing things from their underground days and from their newest album alike. And through it all, Parker clung to the security barrier as she jumped and shouted and sang along, knowing the words to every song.

Before it seemed much time had passed at all, the guys cleared off the stage for intermission. For the first time Parker realized just how winded she was. Her throat burned, the air that moved down it catching against dry spots and prickling. She'd been giving it all she had, and already her vocal cords were ready to give out. How did singers do it? The high of being on stage had to be incredible, and even as Lysander ran and jumped and fell to his knees before them, his voice never wavered. It was as smooth as it had been when they'd first come on, and he never missed a note — even the most trying ones.

Parker's phone vibrated in her back pocket with a message, and she retrieved it to find Erin had been texting her throughout the first set. She'd been washed away by the rush of people and was further back on the floor, near the tall dude with the black and silver beanie and the chick with blue hair. Parker glanced over her shoulder, trying to spy where her friend had gotten to. There were too many bodies to make out Erin's exact location, and Parker was hesitant to give up her position at the front of the venue. Not tonight.

Parker (9:23PM): im still at the front by the barriers. catch u after, k?

It was shitty of her to do, but tonight was her dream come true. Parker slid her phone back into her pocket and turned her attention back towards the stage. Crew, dressed all in black, were running this way and that as they set up for the next half. Now that Sordid View were big time, Parker wondered what kind of stunts they had lined up.

A hand met her shoulder. Parker turned her head to see who it was, and found herself looking up at a stern, blocky face. The man was bald and muscular, and the black t-shirt he wore was embroidered upon the right breast with "Metro Center Security". Instantly she released the security barrier, wondering if all this time it had been against the rules to hold on.

"Come with me," the guard said. His voice rose above the babble of the waiting crowd, and Parker felt her blood chill. Was she getting kicked out?

"I didn't do anything," she pleaded, but he'd already taken her by the wrist and had begun to direct her through the crowd and towards the left, probably so that he could toss her out through a side exit.

"I know," he grumbled back. People parted for them like they were diseased, only to flow back into place in their wake. When Parker looked over her shoulder she found her old spot right up against the stage had already been filled by a girl with blonde hair who looked like she belonged at a bubble pop concert. How was it fair?

"Please just let me stay and see the show," Parker begged. She's started to grind her heels against the floor to try to stop him, but the security guard was much stronger than she was, and he pulled her without breaking a sweat.

"Got orders they wanted you back stage," the guard grunted. They'd arrived at a side door by the side of the stage, roped off to prevent public access. The guard propped the side door open and gestured for her to enter through it. Parker couldn't believe what was happening.

"Wait, you mean—"

"The band wants you back stage," the guard said, all business. She could tell that her voice was starting to grate on his nerves, and Parker shut right up. "You can watch from the wings, but watch your manners. You cause a fuss, you get crazy, we'll throw you out the back doors and you're not getting back in."

Parker's jaw fell slack moments before a huge grin spread across her face. The chemistry she'd shared with Lysander from the stage hadn't just been in her mind — it was the real deal. He wanted her back here. She was going to go back stage with her favorite band and the most amazing guy she'd even known, and it was all because she'd caught Lysander's eye.

As soon as Parker had sidled past the security guard and into the small stairway leading to stage right, she whipped out her cellphone and texted Erin in a hurry.

Parker (9:31PM): omgomg youll never guess what just happened!

Parker (9:32PM): im back stage with the band. ERIN I AM SO EXCITED! idk when ill be out but take a cab home yourself and ill pay you back tmr okay? love you, stay safe.

A set of stairs six high waited before her, and when Parker looked out beyond them she could see the wings of the stage. Sordid View was still backstage on intermission, probably in the green room. Parker had never been a part of the drama club in high school, but she knew that much about stages. Was she supposed to go there?

Once she'd ascended the steps, the answer became obvious. A tall, slender woman with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail approached and made a gesture that Parker knew was an invitation to follow. She wore an earpiece, and she had her fingers pressed into it as she spoke.

"Lights Charlie and Echo need to be switched out. Amp Delta needs to be swapped, it blew. And— Nikias, are you listening to me?"

They walked together, the woman walking at a brisk pace that Parker had to jog to keep up with. To the right was the stage, men still scrambling across it to get what needed to be done, done. Above, concealed by the shadows, Parker could see others scurrying along the catwalks. She'd never realized how busy a show was, but as faces rushed by in all directions frantically, she felt herself appreciate the work that went on that much more.

"In there," the woman said amongst a string of other commands, gesturing with her left hand to a door left partially open. The instructions were for Parker, but she'd almost missed them for how flawlessly they fit into the woman's other instructions. "Nikias, ten minutes until we're back on. Are the fog machines refilled? And what about—"

Parker broke away from her guide and headed towards the opened door. The woman didn't notice her leaving, too caught up in her conversation to care. Left on her own, Parker hesitated by the door. As she raised her fist to knock, a familiar, smooth voice called her from inside.

"Come on in," Lysander called. His voice carried, and it sounded as though he stood before her.

Behind the door was the man she'd obsessed over since she'd first been introduced to Sordid View. Parker felt herself begin to tremble, not from nerves, but from excitement. She took a moment to breathe in deep and smooth her shirt before she pushed the door open. Inside, Lysander reclined upon a beat up couch, arms spread over the top with his hands hanging down upon the cushions. His legs were spread, unafraid of taking up space. He was the only one in the room.

"You're the chick I saw pressed up against the stage," he told her as if she didn't know. "You were singing along to all the songs, even the old ones. I don't think one other person in the whole venue knew the words to Turbulence."

There was one other person who knew the words — Erin — but Parker felt too star struck to correct him. Instead, she pressed her lips together to stop herself from squealing and tried to take it cool. A small nod of her head followed, and she spoke.

"I've listened to you guys for a long time, all the way back when Universe, Unlimited was released. You don't know how amazing it is to be standing right here, talking to you after all that time."

Lysander snorted and rolled his eyes skywards, but she could tell by the way that he smirked that he was pleased with the flattery.

"Well," he replied, fixing her with his gaze once again. Under the fluorescent lights above she could tell just how green they were. It seemed to Parker like no other man had eyes that stunningly green, "you have no idea how amazing it is that a chick as pretty as you knows all of your work by heart, and not just the stuff that made you famous. Come sit." He jerked his chin towards the stretch of couch to his right. "Close the door and keep me company for a while."

Parker could feel herself trembling. From her lips all the way down to her toes, her body was alive with anticipation. The flat of her palm guided the door closed, and once it clicked in the latch she moved across the room on autopilot. This had to be a dream; there was no way she'd gotten so lucky in real life.

Lysander was just as gorgeous in person as he was in pictures. The collage of tattoos that ran from his knuckles up his arm was vibrant. Portraits and horror inspired images melded together, each piece well done. The smell of burnt wood, like a campfire, mixed with masculine overtones, rose from his body. He'd shed sweat on stage, and it still beaded on his brow. Parker didn't care — her focus was elsewhere. The tight black jeans he wore revealed a sizable bulge, begging attention. The attraction towards Lysander that she'd fostered for so long swelled, and when Parker sat beside him she found it hard to keep her hands off of him.

It turned out keeping her hands off of him wasn't going to be an issue.

Lysander slid his hand down from the couch and wrapped it tight around her shoulder, drawing her to his torso. The heat of his body felt dry compared to what she was used to — when guys got sweaty, they got humid. Lysander, despite the sweat on his brow, didn't feel sticky.

"What's your name?" Lysander asked her. Parker could feel the rise and fall of his chest. Excitement was quickly mellowing into arousal, and she navigated it like she'd plunged into a swimming pool full of cotton; every inch of her felt warm and soft, and yet difficult to maneuver.

"Parker Harris," she uttered.

The corners of Lysander's lips twitched upwards, amused. Parker's head was turned to look at him, just as his was turned to look at her. Up this close she could see how his bottom lip was just a bit fuller than his top, and how kissable they looked.

"You know, for how much you were screaming for me," Lysander whispered. She could feel the warmth of his breath, his lips coming closer to hers little by little, "I thought you would be a little chattier. But if you don't feel like chatting, I can think of another way to put your lips to use."

Warmth spread across Parker's cheeks, and she knew she was glowing red. Lysander's green eyes were lidded, and he let their noses brush one against the other. When his lips, some of the most perfect she'd ever seen, pressed against hers, Parker thought her skeleton might burst free from her skin. It felt as though she had to fidget and twitch and cry out all at once from how deliriously happy she felt, and yet Lysander's kiss kept her pinned. A beat passed in which Parker composed herself, and she kissed him back.

Lysander's lips were greedy. What had started as slow and sweet, introducing her to the idea of intimacy, turned heated. As their lips parted only to meet again, Lysander's touch grew firmer. It wasn't long before his lips had parted hers, and he slid his tongue into her mouth to claim it.

There was a strange sweetness to how he tasted, like cotton candy or a light mint. Parker closed her eyes, body relaxing as he dominated their passion. Heat spread quickly through her gut and left her aching for more. Already she could feel how slick she'd become; Lysander was her fantasy turned reality, and it felt like a miracle that out of a whole floor full of people, he'd had eyes for her.

Their lips parted, Parker breathless. As she struggled to regain her breath, Lysander spoke. His eyes, narrowed and lustful, were locked on hers.

"I want to make you mine," he uttered, voice low and yet somehow crystal clear. Its pitch had dropped, husky with his desire. Parker knew that whatever attraction had sprung up between them was a convenience for him and nothing more. Musicians didn't want to settle down with fans, didn't want to have drawn out relationships, and yet she couldn't tell him no. Even one night with Lysander felt like an event that would stay with her a lifetime.

"I want that, too."

When consent left her lips, something flashed across Lysander's eyes. Hungry, wild, and ferocious. Fear struck her hard, then left just as quickly. Even as an indie artist, Lysander must have been used to getting any girl he wanted. That look was of experience, and she was another conquest for him to tear into and claim.

And claim he did.