Angela Addams - Cursed

Being published at Samhain was on my writer’s bucket list of goals and there’s no way it would have happened without a few very important folks. My writerly pals in the OWG, “Rebels” who not only believed in me, but kicked my ass in crits and told me to suck it up when I needed reminding. Tammy Crosby and Dianne Waye, two wonderful friends and beta readers who read this manuscript, ripped it apart and then told me how much they loved it. James Thorn, who tolerated all of my stupid questions and gave me insight into the workings of stage equipment and rock stars. Dani Wegner, a.k.a. Superwoman, who created a series bible for me, something I desperately needed for the story to keep unfolding in a logical way. My husband and kids who put up with the insanity that comes with writing. And finally, the woman who made this dream come true, Holly Atkinson, my editor, who told me I have a unique voice and made me blush.

Raven stood in the dark recess of stage left, his eyes closed as he reveled in those few moments after the opening band walked off the stage and the crowd was waiting for him. A snapshot in time when the lights were down, the crowd pumped, wanting, craving that first riff to wash over them. It was electrical, a pulse that raised the goose bumps on his arms, had his heart hammering, his breath quick. It was a rush that almost—almost—made him hard.

He opened his eyes as Mayhem brushed past him. Mayhem, front man, pack alpha, and all round kick ass male. “Ready for this?” he asked, his face alight with the same thrill Raven knew so well.

Raven gripped the neck of his bass and bared his teeth. “Hell yeah, brother!” And with one swipe of his fingers, he let the riff soar.

And the crowd went fucking nuts.

The party, it seemed, was in Mayhem’s suite. Penthouse accommodations for the alpha and his bevy of fangirls. Something Raven could definitely appreciate. He liked variety. And being the bassist of one of the hottest rock bands in the country ensured he had a lot of variety when it came to women. A different girl every night. Epic sex marathons. Perfect.

“Hey, there’s Raven!” Dave, the band’s manager, gave him a hardy slap on the back and shoved a beer in his face at the same time.

“Thanks, man.” Raven gripped the frosty bottle and took a swig.

“Got a lot of great potential tonight, friend. Hot pussy in abundance. Tons to choose from.”

And choose he could. That was one reality about being a rock-star—the women were plentiful.

Was it meaningless sex? Hell yes, and that was just the way Raven liked it. He made no secret about his intentions—any women he took to bed knew perfectly well what it meant. Some fucking fun with no strings attached. Besides, they had to be out of his bed and out of his sight by daybreak. That was when his wolf came out to play—a fact he wasn’t inclined to share with his latest fling.

Raven scanned the crowd, noting the usual groupies, many of whom he’d had special relations with. That was another one of his rules: no repeats…it only complicated things. One-night stands were the only way to go, so the object of his attention didn’t get the wrong idea. Not that he was a jerk or anything, but sometimes the fans came with a few misplaced notions of what a rock-star was looking for. True love? Yeah, so not interested in that bullshit.

He took another swig of his beer, ready to meander through the rest of the suite when his gaze landed on her. Her . Raven was never one for preferences—hair, eye color, whatever, he didn’t discriminate, but she came with dark chocolate hair, a pixie cut, sweeping across her face, almost covering one eye as it came to a point at her chin. A hipster, maybe, but with her mocha eyes and full tantalizing lips he didn’t really give a fuck, and neither did his cock. She was watching him right back, an expression of challenge on her face. He swept his gaze down, over her delicious curves, and got hard. Instantly. Yep. She was the one.

He nudged Dave. “Hey, you seen that girl before?”

Before Dave could utter a peep, she was striding toward them, her stare unwavering, locked on him as she swayed her hips. If possible, his dick got harder and she was only walking. He couldn’t help but wonder what else her body could do to him.

“You’re Raven right? The bassist?” Her voice was raspy in a sexy way, made him want to hear her moan his name.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He gave one of his signature smiles, the kind he knew made the fans melt. “And you are?”

“Darcy, sugar.” She returned his smile with a breathtaking one of her own, her little pink tongue darting out to run along her top lip. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Okay, so, step one was complete. Snag Raven Glock, bassist for Riot . Check. Simple really—the man was a sucker for a beautiful woman. She’d put a lot of effort into her appearance: make-up, tight low cut tank top, skinny jeans, all in an attempt to catch the eye of the one man she was after. A rock-star with the reputation for a night of hot and heavy. No strings attached, whether you liked it or not.

“You’ve been lookin’ for me, huh?” His gaze travelled down the length of her body once again, a look so scorching hot she almost forgot her mandate.

Step two: get him alone.

“Why don’t we go somewhere more private then, sweets?” He snapped his gaze back to meet hers.

Step two: check. This was going to be easy.

She leaned in, her breasts brushing against his chest, her lips right next to his ear. “I was hoping—really, really hoping—you’d say that.”

When she made to step back, he laid a hand on her hip and held her in place, moving his body closer so she could feel his intentions in the stiff bulge in his pants. Her nipples hardened, and her pussy ached, growing so wet she was sure her panties would be soaked in a matter of seconds. Shit. Step three: have sex with the man …this was so not going to be a problem.

“We could go back to my room, if you like,” he said.

She gulped and nodded, stunned by his sexual magnetism. She was supposed to be the seductress here, but she was quickly realizing just how good Raven Glock really was. There was something about him, something wild—it excited her immensely and she was very eager to discover what it was.

“Let’s go then, sweets.” He released her hip and spun her toward the door. “Just a short trip down to the next floor.”

With a hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the elevator, his simple touch sending jolts of lust through her entire body. Yep, this one was going to be a pleasure for a variety of reasons. She loved jobs like these—it made the nasty bits a little more bearable.

The elevator doors opened as if on cue. As partiers spilled out, Raven pushed her in. He didn’t bother waiting for the doors to close before he had her against the wall, his rock hard cock digging into her ass, his hands sliding up her sides as he nuzzled her neck and sent shivers down her spine.

“Mmm, you taste like candy.” He brought his hands up to her breasts, cupping, squeezing before flicking her hardened nipples through her tank.

Darcy pushed back against his body, rolling her head to the side as she closed her eyes and reveled in her burning lust. His body was all muscle. She could feel his strength against her, his bulging arms caging her as he continued to play with her breasts and grind his cock against her ass. She was a tall woman herself and often avoided wearing heels so she wouldn’t tower over men, but Raven was at least a half-foot taller, one huge hulk of a man. She liked that too. It made him a worthy conquest, a prized notch on her belt.