The Rocker Who Cherishes Me (The Rocker 8) - Page 3/54

My chance to ask for the one thing I wanted the most, the one thing that would give me a reason to keep fighting until I couldn’t fight any more, was quickly slipping away. Gathering my courage, I just blurted it out. “Will you kiss me, Wroth?”

His big body paused halfway up and he dropped back down next to me. Even though I couldn’t see the rest of his face, his eyes told me that he was shocked by my question. Wroth hugged me all the time, but he’d never given me so much as a peck on the cheek. I couldn’t remember him even ever kissing his mother. So I knew that my question, my plea for a kiss, had stunned him.

He didn’t answer right away. I could see his mind working, wondering what I was thinking even asking him such a thing. Some people might think I was crossing a line, but despite his relationship with my brother I wasn’t related to Wroth in any way. His mother and Liam’s mother had been sisters. My mother… Well I had no idea who or even where she was. She ran off just a few months after I was born, unable to handle a baby let alone one on top of a stepson.

“Mari…”

He was using the nickname I loved so much, but I could tell he was about to let me down easy. I couldn’t let him. I needed his kiss to get me through the weeks that were about to follow. “Please, Wroth. I’ll never ask you for anything ever again. I promise. Just… Please. One kiss. I…” I hated thinking the next words, let alone saying them but I was desperate. “I might not…” My voice broke, and I was unable to finish the sentence, but I saw the way the skin around his eyes tightened. “…I want to know what a real kiss feels like.”

“You really know how to gut a guy, huh?” He shook his head, but didn’t try to stand again.

I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know how to respond. Was he really gutted at the thought of losing me? When I just sat there, staring up at him, my plea still in my eyes, he groaned. “Mari, you know I’d give you anything you want.” With a curse under his breath, he raised his hands and cupped both sides of my face. “You’re so beautiful, girl.”

The way he said that one word made something deep inside of me melt. ‘Girl’ had come out more like a growl than an actual word. I shivered as he lowered his head until his nose skimmed mine through his mask. Reaching up I pulled the mask down until his lips were free. My eyes, hungry for the sight of the rest of his face, drank in the sight of dark stubble shadowing his jaw, that strong nose, and damp full lips. His face wasn’t traditionally handsome, it was too strong and square. But his ruggedness, the badass air he put off attached to all that strength made him sexy in a way that women melted over. I’d never been immune to him, doubted I ever would be.

When those warm, full lips brushed over mine my heart stopped. It was an innocent kiss, there was no passion in it, but this wasn’t about passion. It was about having something to hold onto, a memory I could fall back on when I wanted to give up.

He was actually giving me the kiss I asked for and it was so perfect, so incredibly amazing. My first kiss was so sweet it brought tears to my eyes. They spilled free and when Wroth tasted them he quickly raised his head. “Mari?”

“Th-thank you, Wroth,” I whispered. “That was perfect.”

Still cupping my face he offered me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

The door opened again and there stood my nurse, tapping her foot. I shot her another glare, but Wroth sighed and pressed a kiss to my forehead before standing. “I’ll be in the waiting room, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. As long as you’re here, I’ll be here too.” He winked down at me. “Goodnight, Mari.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to cry again until he was out the door. “Goodnight, Wroth.”

Chapter One

Marissa

Present Day

The smell of coffee pulled me out of a dream-filled sleep. I blinked open my eyes, trying to fight the melancholy that washed over me as I tried to pull the dream back, attempting to remember why I was feeling so sad all of a sudden. I knew that it had to have been a dream about Wroth, because he was all I seemed to be able to dream about these days. And I knew that it hadn’t been one of the many wet dreams I’d been having since I could freaking have wet dreams, but had intensified since the spring tour over a year ago. I also knew that it wasn’t even the dream where I kicked his ass, because those dreams always left me feeling pissed off but a little vindicated when I woke up.

Fighting the urge to cry, and angry because I didn’t know why but did know the most likely cause, I crawled out of bed and pulled a thin robe over my tank top and shorts pajamas. My long hair was a tangled mess so I pulled the thick tresses into a knot on top of my head and slowly made my way down the hall. The television was on in the living room to some show on E! but I refrained from rolling my eyes at my roommate’s reality show addiction.

The scent of coffee was getting stronger and my own addiction was calling my name. I was a coffee addict, and since moving to New York last year, that addiction had only grown since there was a different coffee shop on every corner. As I entered the kitchen I had eyes only for the coffee pot, so when the refrigerator door closed with a thump, I turned my head to glance at Linc.

Only to wish I hadn’t when my gaze landed on his very naked body. Well, damn! It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Linc Spencer’s dick in the last twelve months. It wasn’t even the fifth time. And like every time before, and every female with red blood running through her veins, my gaze lingered on his very impressive man parts. Sadly, however, I felt nothing below the neck at the sight of such male perfection. Which was probably a good thing, seeing as that lusting after my very gay roommate would only lead to hurt feelings because he would never be able to feel that way about me.

“Morning, Rissa,” Linc greeted me with a smirk because he knew exactly what I was gaping at.

Pink filling my already warm cheeks, I turned back to the coffee pot and poured myself a gigantic mug full of the strong brew. Thankfully Jesse Thornton had given Linc the recipe for his special morning coffee during OtherWorld’s and Demon’s Wing’s fall tour and Linc had started making it when he and Natalie had returned back in November. My other roommate wouldn’t go near the coffee pot now, but Linc and I seemed to be attached to it in the mornings.