Right. It’s business.
“I … I have a lot to think about,” I say. “And I’m not considering anything unless you send me contracts with all your terms.” Thank fuck my brother is an entertainment lawyer.
“Give us your contact details, and we’ll send them,” Cameron says. “Unless you’re going to make us go through Ryder again?”
“I’ll give you my information.”
They each give me their phone, and I put my email address and phone number into their contacts.
Harley steps closer to me. “Please don’t be mad at Ryder for telling me where I could find exactly what I was looking for. I wouldn’t be fighting for you if I hadn’t seen something out there.” He points toward the stage. “Neither would Cameron. I admire you for wanting to get this the right way, but I also have to say that you need work. You need to grow as an artist. We both see that thing inside you that you need to be great. Eventually. No free rides. Got it?”
I nod.
The way this is happening is not how I ever wanted to get a deal, but I believe him when he says he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t believe in me. Neither of them would be willing to sink time and energy into me.
The weight of my decision claws at my throat.
My head says Cameron. He’s one of the biggest managers in the industry and could make me a huge star.
Harley … he’s offering me more, but it’s a risk. His new label, no matter how big his name is as an artist, is a risk. He might suck at running the business side of it.
I really have no idea what to do, and the only thing I want to do right now is go home to Ryder.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ryder
I’m pacing my bedroom and starting at the text I sent to Lyric a few hours ago. As soon as I hung up with Harley, I knew I’d done the wrong thing and needed to confess.
It took a few hours to work up the courage to type a half confession.
So, I did something. Please don’t hate me.
I figured he was onstage, maybe, or hadn’t seen it.
By now, Lyric would know for sure if Harley had turned up, which I assume he had. He wouldn’t have been hounding me for details on Lyric only to drop it the minute he was given them.
So I guess the only question now is how much trouble I’m in.
The front door clicks open, echoing up the stairs in the silence of the late hour.
I pray to the God my parents forced down my throat, even though I don’t believe in Him, and hope it’s Lyric and not some stalker situation like what Harley dealt with this past year.
I open the door to my bedroom and come face-to-face with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life.
From his loose, long, wavy blond hair, expressive hazel eyes, and strong jaw down to his usual attire of tight jeans, plain T-shirt, and a suit vest, I love everything about this man.
Even the scowl he’s … wait … not wearing?
He smiles at me, and now I’m wondering if maybe this is a dream.
I should be getting yelled at. I should be—
Not getting cut off by his mouth on mine. Yet, here we are.
I stumble back, but he comes with me. His tongue probes my mouth, making my lips part for him as he dives in and kisses me with everything that he is. Passionate. Caring. Mine.
I kiss him back just as hard, hoping he can taste how sorry I am for doing something he didn’t want me to. I’m hoping he feels how much he affects me, not just physically but mentally as well.
My cock tents my sweatpants, and I pull our lower halves together so Lyric can feel every inch of me against him.
“I want inside you,” Lyric murmurs against my lips.
I don’t hesitate to step back and shuck off my shirt and pants, leaving me naked for him in record time.
Lyric slips his vest off, then his shirt. “Get on the bed for me.”
I walk backward toward the bed, not taking my eyes off him for even a second. Sitting on the mattress, I wiggle my way to the middle and then lie back.
I’m exposed and hard. I go to reach for my cock to stroke it and try to give it some form of relief, but Lyric doesn’t let me.
He grunts. “Hands and knees will be better for this. I really wanted to make love to you, but I know this is going to be hard and fast.”
Part of me wonders if this is my punishment—an angry fuck—but I have to say, it’s not much of a punishment.
I do as he says and roll onto my hands and knees.
“You look so good like that.”
I stare at him over my shoulder while he drops his pants and gets supplies from my bedside drawer.
He doesn’t lie. The minute he has the condom on, he’s fucking me with lubed fingers, trying to get me open for him as fast as possible.
I moan as my ass clenches around his fingers. I’m craving more, craving the burn. I don’t care if I’m not ready, I want all of him. Now.
“Tell me if you need a minute.”
I shake my head, my throat too dry to make sounds come out of my mouth.
His hand goes to the back of my neck as he lines up his cock and sinks inside me.
We let out a collective groan, but mine cuts off when he rotates his hips and pushes in deeper.
No other sounds pass my lips. All I can do is feel.
The hand on my neck creeps up into my hair and holds tight so my head is pulled back.
Lyric moves in and out of me, the burn still there but diminishing slowly with every thrust. It’s hard and rough but not in the hate-filled or angry way I was expecting. It’s just rough enough to sting in between bouts of pleasure, and his hand on my hip is soft and gentle. He’s supporting me while still fucking me.
Tingles shoot down my spine. My toes curl and go kind of numb. Precum leaks onto the bed beneath me, my cock hard and untouched, and I struggle to catch my breath.
Lyric trembles, and I feel it in his thighs when they meet mine over and over again.
“This is …” He lets out a loud breath, and the hand on my hip tightens.
I want to say it’s amazing, but my voice is still gone.
Probably a good thing because all I keep thinking is how gone I am for him.
I’m in love with him. There’s no doubt about that.
“Fuck, Ryder.” He shudders inside me and holds his breath while he slows his thrusts.
Just when I think he’s going to pull out of me, his arms come around me, embracing my chest as he pulls me up onto my knees with my back against his front.
His cock is still inside me, still slowly jerking as he continues to come. I suddenly wish there was no condom between us and make a mental note to have that conversation with him sometime soon.
Lyric nuzzles my neck, and I lean back against his chest and rest my head on his shoulder.
His hand snakes around me and goes to my cock. The head is slick, and he strokes me languidly.
From the rough way he took me to the care he’s giving me now, my head swims.
Lyric’s lips trace my shoulder, and his hand grips me tighter. He jerks me off until my hips take over, and I fuck into his hand as he holds me close.
He peppers soft kisses over my skin.
And when I come all over his hand, he uses his free one to turn my head and kiss me deep.
By the time we’ve both recovered, our muscles are liquid.