Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)

In the vulnerability he showed.

My pulse spiked and my mouth felt dry.

“I can never repay you, but I can say there’s not a soul who deserves to have found what you did. That you got a girl like Shea to love you and she somehow came with an extra bonus of that sweet little girl.”

Kallie danced around, grinning up at Lyrik as if he was the sun.

As if he wasn’t dark and wicked.

As if he didn’t come as a destructive force.

“So tonight, I wanted to play something for your first dance.”

He hooked the heel of his shoe in a rung and adjusted the guitar on his lap. That shock of dark hair flopped to the side and across his forehead as he leaned forward.

Enthralled, I watched as he wrapped his big hand around the neck, tattooed fingers taking the frets. His hand with the rose strummed one echoing chord as his eyes dropped closed.

“To me, a song has always meant more than anything I could ever say, anyway. May these words always be true for the two of you.”

I felt a tug right in the center of my chest.

That thrill shimmered in the air.

The buzz before the strike.

Lyrik plucked at the strings and, in that moment, the only thing I wanted to know was what he kept hidden inside. For him to show me everything.

I stood.

I couldn’t help myself. My feet took me to the very edge of the shadows that hovered around the dance floor.

Drawn.

There wasn’t a soul who would have noticed. The rest of the guests did the same, gathering to watch as Sebastian led Shea onto the center of the floor. Where he pulled her into his arms and danced with her for the first time as husband and wife.

Like the rest of the guests, I should have been watching them.

But I couldn’t.

Because Lyrik leaned in and finally pressed his sensual mouth close to the mic and began to sing.

He was singing Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud.

But his voice.

His voice was raspy and low and filled with emotion so thick I could taste it. Filled with what I could have sworn was prominent in those lonely hours of the night when his songs wept with pain.

I swallowed hard. Desperate for my armor. For all the shields to come up so I could block him from my mind. From the places he was seeping, sinking and submerging and overwhelming.

I was going under.

His entire body tensed as he sang.

Wind whipped through his hair.

Those dark, dark eyes opened and they landed directly on me.

Was it possible he felt this, too?

His voice traveled the air, wrapping me in soft, soft ribbons. Spinning and spinning and spinning. Until they got tighter and tighter.

Suffocating.

Like he was the only thing I could breathe.

Tremors of panic rolled through my body. My heart galloped as he peered at me in the darkness and continued to pour himself into the song he sang for his friend.

He held his voice as the song came to a close. Awe filled the night. Voices silenced.

And I wondered if they could feel it, too.

Lyrik stood, and I remained frozen beneath his gaze.

The hired band reclaimed their spots. Their singer spoke into the mic. “We’d now like to invite the wedding party to share a dance with the bride and groom.”

This…this was what I’d dreaded.

But now that dread shivered through me in little shocks of excitement.

Dazed, I took two steps forward onto the dance floor.

At the same time, Lyrik strode down the three stairs, dark, dark beauty radiating from each step.

Tattoos peeked out from beneath his tailored suit. The perfect opposition of gritty and straight-laced.

God.

No man should look that good.

He stalked my direction as the band struck up.

I trembled. Fisted my hands. Hands that seemed desperate to touch.

Was I really going to just stand here and let this happen? Whatever this was?

Hot hands landed on my sides.

I felt as if I’d been electrocuted.

A bright burst of light flashed behind my eyes.

Body alive.

He tugged me closer, up against his heat and hard and destructive beauty.

I pressed my hands to his chest, desperate for space. For a way to keep from feeling like this. Instead, my fingers curled into his suit jacket.

He pulled me tighter, wrapping me in strong arms.

They felt safe.

His breath tickled across my face, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“I have never seen a girl look as good as you look tonight,” he mumbled at my temple. “Stole my breath when you stepped through that church door and started down the aisle. So fucking sexy, dressed up like an angel when I know you’ve got a little bit of demon hiding underneath.”

He splayed one hand across the small of my back. The other set a trail of flames as he ran it all the way up my spine until he was cupping the side of my neck. Forcing me to look at him. Long fingers twisted through the curls that had been ironed into my hair. “Can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop watching you. Can’t stop wanting you. What is it you think you’re trying to do to me?”

That palm at the small of my back drew me closer. Up against his cock that pressed hard into my belly.

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