Resonating Souls (Bermuda Nights #1)(8)



My cheeks flushed. “Thanks.”

The drummer rapped his sticks together twice, and Evan’s head turned. He looked back to me. “Tom’s ready to go. Maybe we can talk later?”

I nodded, transfixed by his lips, and he smiled. I swayed toward him, drawn in by the scent of musk and sea salt and something sensual, and his hand brushed along my hip. Tingles coursed through me, lighting my body like an electrical charge. Then he turned, moving with Sven up onto the stage.

Kayla’s eyes followed her Viking. “Isn’t he amazing? Like a God damned miracle, he is.”

I nodded, my heart echoing the same words.

Evan slid on the guitar and looked back to the drummer. Tom raised his sticks in the air and rapped them together sharply four times in a row.

A wall of sound blasted out, a heavy, driving beat. Sven’s voice soared in a battle cry, filling the room, thundering over us all as they launched into Zeppelin’s The Immigrant Song.

Sven was a Norse god. I could see him, sword held high, on the front of a Viking longboat, charging down at a defenseless village, hot blooded to plunder, rape, and burn all in his path.

Kayla grabbed my hand, pulling me onto the dance floor, and the mob formed around us. The room rippled with the beat, with the thrumming of the guitar, and my body vibrated with every movement of Evan’s hand. The music coursed through me, primal, deep, and every cell in my body wanted him. I danced through the thick wall of people until I was right before him, one with his movements, one with that thick, muscled arm that –

The hand swept up, the music crashed to a halt, and he looked up.

A roar of approval thundered from the crowd, shook me to my very core, and I was lost in his eyes. Completely lost. There was no him, or me, or the mob of crazed fans around us. There was just a sense of perfection. Of something pure and endless and …

His fingers started moving again, a longing, rippling progression easing out of them, and I followed with it, swaying, the need building up with me. Sven’s vocals eased into place, sliding into Ramble On.

I hadn’t known I could feel like this. I spun and swirled like an autumn leaf, danced, transported by those fingers, by a connection I’d never felt before. Kayla was over with her Norse god, the room was beyond packed, and it was all far away from me. There was just me, and Evan, and this glorious music. The songs streamed into each other, Kalya gave a wave as she headed to the bar, and I wondered distantly when the band would take its break.

Emotions warred with me. I didn’t want this music to ever end. And I wanted Evan down in front of me, so I could hold him, so he could reach out with that hand, take me by the arm –

Firm fingers latched onto my arm, the grip digging into my skin.

I spun in shock, my eyes looking up –

Jeff stood there, his face flushed with fury, his light brown hair askew. He wore a dark green polo shirt over tan khakis, and I could smell the stink of cheap beer on his breath.

His voice was rich with shock and anger. “Amanda! What the f*ck!”





Chapter 5


My mouth fell open in unbelieving shock. I staggered back, and it was only Jeff’s solid grip on my arm which kept me on my feet. He gave my wrist a shake, his look darkening as he drew his eyes down me.

“Jesus f*cking Christ, Amanda. You look like a whore. And you’re shaking your ass so every guy in the room can get his rocks off watching you. Who the f*ck put you up to this?” He turned his head, his eyes reaching the bar, to Kayla’s hot pink outfit which shone like a beacon in the madness. “Of course,” he growled. “I told you to stay away from that skank.”

He turned his eyes to pin me. “We’re going back to my room. Now.”

My heart thundered against my ribs. I couldn’t go. I couldn’t do it. He would get me alone, and he would … he would …

A presence came up behind me, steady, powerful, and I closed my eyes. For a moment Jeff vanished, and I breathed in the scent. I leant back slightly, and he was there, sturdy, muscular, and I knew.

I was safe.

Evan’s voice was low, calm, but there was a thread in there, a hint of something which should never be crossed.

“Take your hands off of her.”

The tight grip released from my arm, and I blinked my eyes open, drawing my arm in against my chest for safety. I rubbed the mark with my other hand, wondering how bad the bruises would be.

The two men were about the same height, six feet or so, and maybe even the same build. But the difference between them stunned me. Jeff had liked working out in the weight room, constructing a build which was good for show. He was like a catwalk model who had designed a costume for display.

I could feel Evan’s strength behind me, and I knew his carved muscles were for a different purpose altogether. He was designed for action – and he wouldn’t back down.

Jeff threw back his head, meeting Evan’s gaze with hot heat. “And who the f*ck are you?”

I found my voice. “Jeff, this is Evan. He’s … he’s a friend of mine.”

Jeff’s lips turned down into a sneer. “Good God, Amanda. Now you’re f*cking the crew? What’s next? You’ll bang the janitor because he does a good job scrubbing your toilet?”


Evan stilled behind me, and my heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn’t let Jeff do this. I couldn’t let him destroy everything, get Evan thrown off the ship, and bring my world crashing down around me.

Ophelia Sikes's Books