Heart Broke (Hard Rock Roots Book 8) by C.M. Stunich Page A

voice. Ugh.
    I lean down and press my lips to the thumping pulse in Sydney's throat, tasting her, smelling her. I inhale, letting the scent of flowers and wild things fill my lungs. Maybe that's one of the reasons I like Sydney so much? She's my complete opposite. All the places I'm dark, she's light. I'm the earth; she's the flowers. The sky; the stars. The moon; the sun.
    “God, that feels good,” she whispers, hooking her arms around my neck, relaxing into my touch. “Feels like I haven't gotten laid in forever.” She pauses. I pause. “Well, I mean except for the hotel …”
    “And before that?” I venture, even though I feel stupid for asking, like some possessive piece of shit asshole that has to piss on everything to mark it as his. Great. I finally find a girl I like and I get all caveman and crap. I try really hard not to think about the words I said back at the strip club. Dear God. I make myself not care what her answer's going to be. In that split second, I promise myself that I won't be mad.
    Only that's pretty much the biggest bullshit lie I've told myself in a long while.
    “What do you think? How much do you care?” Sydney asks, spreading her legs wide and wrapping them around me. We're pressed tight, pelvis to pelvis, my mouth just inches away from hers.
    “A lot. Too much maybe.” I groan and try to roll over, but Sydney comes with me and we end up with her on top, me on the bottom. Looking up at that body, that face, I can't really find it in me to complain.
    Sydney sits up, purposely grinding the hot warmth of her body against the painful bulge in my jeans. The smooth roll of her hips, the way she bites her lip off to the side like that. I'm about ten seconds away from coming in my goddamn pants.
    “I think your words were something to the effect of I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't remember being with any other dude. It's just me and you, babe. ”
    “I never said babe, ” I growl, grabbing onto her hips and drawing a rough gasp from her throat. “I don't say babe. ”
    “Small beans,” Sydney says, leaning down and breathing hot against my lower lip, paralyzing me in place. I'm fucking mesmerized, just like I was in that first moment that I saw her, when she stole the breath from my lungs and sent all the blood in my head into my cock. Dizzy. Weak. I reach up to touch her face, but Sydney pulls back, standing up and popping a stick of gum between her lips. “Little inconsistencies.”
    I roll onto my side and watch as she squats down and reads another headstone. They're all over my arm, these gray stones, the empty eyes of the dead. I should feel connected to this place, but I don't. I guess I'm just too similar to it, to the quiet dark earth of the graveyard. I need somebody who's my opposite, a bright swirl of color and life.
    Like Sydney.
    “Okay, yeah. I guess I did say basically that.” I pause, lick my lower lip. “It wasn't a lie. It's true. When I look at you, I feel things I've never felt before.”
    Sydney snorts, but more like she's embarrassed and less like she's trying to make fun of me.
    “So … this whole dating thing … you really want to give it a go then?” she asks tentatively, but more like the question's for herself than it is for me.
    My mouth twitches a little as I sit up and scrub my hands over my face. I'm on a comedown, big time. I haven't smoked anything other than tobacco since I signed that fucking contract. Barely drank. I feel like the clouds in front of my eyes are dissolving, floating away. Sure, the scene I'm looking down on isn't pretty, an apocalyptic street dressed in blood and dirt, but at least now I know what I'm dealing with.
    Hayden is dead. Tara is dead. America is dead.
    I suck in a deep breath.
    But I'm not. For whatever reason, I'm still here.
    I stand up and move over to Sydney, my boots quiet against the earth beneath my feet. In the distance, I can hear the scream of sirens, the rumble of traffic, but here, it all fades away,