Prologue
Henry
Blue. If I had to guess, that would be the color I would pick. They’re not iridescent enough to be green and so far from dark there is no way those beautiful irises are brown. The heavy house bass coats me in its never-ending torrent of sound, quickening my pulse and heating my blood.
Silently, I live for this.
The freedom of the room. The darkness of the shrouding anonymity. The static zing of sexual energy as it swells without restraint, filling the warm, sticky air with a spicy flavor and erotic texture. Down here is my escape. And not once have my bandmates, my lifelong best friends, ever questioned my flying solo as I do it. They might not understand it, but they do understand my need for it.
Even if they don’t, and never will, know the reason behind it.
But this woman… the one I’m staring at… the one I’ve been staring at since I stepped into this enormous, gyrating body-filled room five minutes ago and instantly spotted her… she ignites my blood. Makes me hard.
And best of all… she’s alone.
Like me.
Gorgeous. That’s not even a question. But she’s more than that.
She has an aura.
Something unique, exotic, and captivating as hell. I can’t even place what it is about her, but I haven’t been able to look away for a second.
I waited. I watched. She’s a slave to the music as it flows through her body, calling her muscles into action. Arms above her head, hips swiveling, eyes now closed. She’s not here for the men who have come up to her, demanding her attention and body.
And there have been plenty.
They see what I see. However, where they all failed, I already know I’ll succeed.
She’s here for me tonight, whether she knows it or not.
I don’t question my motives as I slide through the ménage of bodies.
I don’t hesitate as I lower my mouth to her ear and whisper, “Want to dance with a stranger in the dark?”
Her eyes flash open, ready to explain in explicit detail all the ways I can fuck off since my hands are now on her waist and my face is right before hers. Instead, her pithy retort dies on her tongue, her eyes filling with recognition as those deep blues cast about my face.
“How did you know?” she replies playfully, inadvertently drawing closer.
The high of the show we played tonight hasn’t abated. It still hums along my skin and spears my lips with its smile. And right now, I’m thankful for that. Otherwise, the smile she’s reflecting—the one I’ve seen on a thousand other women when they look into my eyes and see a world-famous rock star—would seriously turn me off.
Still, the disappointment that she clearly recognizes me doesn’t stop me from snaking my arms deeper around her back, guiding her gorgeous body into mine. Something foreign and heavy floods my chest when she’s finally seated against me, staring up into my eyes. I lick my suddenly dry lips, trying to ignore whatever this is, desperate for this brand-new sensation to remain unnamed.
I start to move us, grinding into her in sync with the beat of the music.
She sucks in a gasp of air, those heavy-lidded eyes growing wide with shock. Her head frantically snaps about, eyes scanning like she’s afraid we’re going to be caught by someone.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask, because I don’t do that. I don’t share. Never and not even close.
“N-no,” she stutters and then shivers, reacting to the glide of my hands up her back and into her long, brown mane of hair. “It’s just that… I never thought… you… this. You’re touching me and looking at me and…” A self-deprecating laugh chokes past her full lips. “Never mind. I’m gonna shut up now.”
“Do you wish I wasn’t touching you?” My fingers descend, dragging down her neck and along the smooth, exposed skin of her arms that feels almost electric beneath my touch. “Looking at you?” My face drifts closer, our eyes locked and only inches away. My breath catches in a way it never has before. Goddamn…
She licks her lips, her eyes bouncing back and forth between mine. Like she’s trying to read me. See what my intentions are with her. I don’t hide my want and when she realizes it, her eyes come to life with a heat that makes my cock twitch.
“I like you touching me. I love the way you’re looking at me. I don’t want you to stop. I guess I just assumed you’d be upstairs. Not down here with everyone else. With me.”
She’s referring to the private floor, and all I can do is shake my head. The women on the private floor do nothing for me. They’re all the same. Not an ounce of real outside or in between any of them. They’re agenda-driven. They see money and fame and zero in.
I can’t stand any of them. Not even for a night.
“Are you down here alone?” she pushes, peeking around me once more.
“Looking for someone else?”
Her eyes snap back to mine. “Not when you’re the one I’ve always wanted. I’m just making sure we won’t be interrupted by anyone we wouldn’t want to find us.”
“We won’t be.”
“Well then,” she murmurs, her smile growing. “In that case, sure. I’d love a dance in the dark with a stranger like you.” She snakes her arms around my neck, her fingers boldly coiling into the strands at my nape. Yet her eyes are guarded, her movements hesitant, almost as if she’s waiting for me to push her away. “Is it off-putting if I say I’ve always dreamed of this but never in a million years imaged it would happen?”
“With me?”
“Yes.” She laughs the word like I’m crazy for asking. “With you, Henry Gauthier. Though I think you already knew that.”
“You’re beautiful. Any man would be lucky to dance with you. Many before me have tried.”
Her arms fly up above her head, her head tilting back as her eyes fall closed, moving with me to the heavy house beat. I lied just now when I told her she’s beautiful. She’s so much more than that. And looking at her like this, in my arms, she’s robbing me of my ability to breathe. The temptation to throw caution to the wind and kiss her here, run my hands all over her body, reach up under her short dress and make her come with hundreds of people around us is so compelling I have to bite my lip to staunch the tenacious need.
“Other men have tried. But I haven’t wanted any of them.”
“Why’s that?”
An impish grin curls up the corners of her lips. “Because they’re not you, are they?”
Her body plunges backward, forcing me to dip her, trusting I won’t drop her. Fingertips scrape the floor before she rights herself, her eyes glowing, her cheeks bright, and her lips parted with her breathy laugh.
“That was fun. Do you have moves, Henry? So far I’m doing all the leading.”
“I approached you.”
“That doesn’t make you special.”
Fuck. I like this one.
The nerves she had when I first approached her are gone. Now she’s a siren. A sexy, confident force of nature. Wild, sinful trouble I want to drown myself in.
“It makes me the one you said yes to.”
But the more I study her face, the more something familiar niggles at the darkest recesses of my mind. I can’t place it. I feel like I know her somehow, yet I’m nearly positive I’ve never met this woman before.
Or maybe it’s just that I’m more drawn to her than any woman I’ve encountered lately.
She hikes up on her toes, her body seductively pressing into mine. The scent of her skin and hair hit me hard. Something light and soft and irresistible. Something that makes me want to lick every perfect inch of her.
“What exactly do you think I’m saying yes to?” she whispers in my ear.
“Me. Now. Here. Tonight.”
Her breath hitches as my tongue sneaks out, swiping at the line of her jaw. My hand glides up her thigh, my thumb dipping into the softness of her inner thigh. Those pretty blues grow impossibly dark with a hunger that matches my own.
“Tell me no right now or this is happening.”
“I want this to happen. Now. Here. Tonight.”
“That’s all it will be,” I warn.
“I know.” I don’t miss the touch of sadness in her tone. The hint of longing. But her gaze is unwavering as it holds mine.
“You sure?” I ask, studying her.
“Yes. I understand why it’s only tonight, and even though one night isn’t my style; I’ve wanted you for too long to ever say no.”
Taking her hand, I intertwine our fingers, dragging her through the crowded club to the dark alcove I already scoped out. I never kiss women in public. Sure as hell never touch them in a way I wouldn’t be okay with being photographed.
I spin her behind the black curtain that separates the main part of the club from an emergency exit, press her into the wall, cup her face in my hands, and crash my lips to hers. She responds instantly, her hands gripping my triceps, hauling me infinitely closer. Demanding full contact. Our lips move frantically, our tongues seeking, playing, dancing.
She tastes so fucking good; I can’t help but angle my mouth, deepening the connection and groaning into her.
She’s small. Petite with similar curves, just the way I like ’em.
My hands roam from her face, capturing her breasts over the thin material of her dress before quickly tugging it down. She gasps as my lips flee hers, stealing one taut nipple in my mouth and sucking it in. Greedy hands fist my hair, her neck arching away from the wall as I devour her breasts while skimming a hand up her inner thigh.
“Yes,” she hisses on a throaty moan, half her sounds being absorbed into the chaos of the club just steps away. Normally, I feed off of this. Allow the impersonal nature of it to be my guiding force. But something about this woman makes me want to hear all her sounds. See every sweet inch of her flesh. Watch every ounce of pleasure I’m about to give her.
“What is it about you?” I murmur into her skin, knowing she can’t hear me. The question is for myself because from the second I saw her, instinctively, I knew it was something. Some bewitching magic she exudes that floated through the club and snaked directly into me. It’s holding on tight. Making me greedy and ravenous. Making me want to break all my rules and keep her just a bit longer.
My fingers find the smooth satin of her panties, gliding back and forth over the thin strip covering her pussy, gathering moisture. She’s so wet, and she feels and tastes so good my head is spinning.
I release her nipple, working my way back up her neck with deep, open-mouthed kisses until I find her lips again. Pushing aside the satin, I explore her, rubbing her clit and toying with her opening. She bucks against me, grinding, searching for more. Her breathy pants and delirious moans float into my mouth, forcing themselves inside me as I strain to hear each and every note she produces.
“Trouble,” I growl into her, gnashing my teeth into her bottom lip and biting down just enough to let her know I mean it. “You’re fucking trouble.”
“Good. I never wanted to be easy for you. I always wanted to twist you up as badly as you always have me.”
I shake my head at that, not quite understanding her meaning. More hints of recognition spark to life but are just as quickly snuffed out as I push two fingers inside her. She rips at my shirt. Trying desperately to undo it. I use my other hand to stop her.
I can’t go upstairs after if this is missing buttons.
“I want to see you. I want to touch you,” she pleads.
“Not here. Not enough time.”
She thunders in frustration, digging her nails into the back of my head and dragging them down my neck, marking me, no doubt. “I hate you,” she seethes, emotion clouding her voice as I continue to work her.
For some inexplicable reason, I understand her sentiment. I hate her too. I hate all that she’s doing to my insides. All that I’ve never had to fight before that I’m suddenly fighting here, now, with her. I’m a hot second from saying, let’s go to my hotel room instead.
But I can’t. Not with a girl like this.
The kind of girl who wants more than I can give her.
I’d blame it on the Rockstar. On the lifestyle. Only that couldn’t be farther from the truth or reality of it. And where there will never be a future for any woman in my life, it’s best to not to live beyond the present.
“Let’s see how much you hate me. Unzip me.”
She shoves me back, my hand slipping out from between her legs, and just when I think she’s about to end it, her blue eyes hold mine as she goes for my zipper. My fingers find my mouth, craving a taste of her. I haven’t gone down on a girl in forever, and right now, I’m burning up with the desire for it. With the desire for her.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” she accuses, toying with me. Like she knows just the idea of feeling something with her will piss me off. Newsflash: Already there.
I nod my head in agreement, words clogging at the back of my throat.
She smiles at that like an evil temptress.
With my dick in my hand, I roll the condom on, lining myself up to her opening. She hitches her leg up and over my hip before leaning back into the wall, helping our angle. My thumb coasts along her bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful,” I tell her.
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she muses, a light smile on her lips, her eyes dark with lust.
I blink at her, momentarily stunned. “Actually, I don’t. I never say that.” Then I slide inside her, burying myself to the hilt. Her back arches and she lets out a loud cry. My mouth takes her, stifling the sound. “People will hear and think I’m killing you.”
She laughs. “I think you just did. Jesus. Size thirteen shoe really does correlate.”
I hold myself still. Giving her a second to get used to me, sure, but how does she know my shoe size? That’s hardly common knowledge. Only the guys and—
“Move. Please, I need you to move.”
I do. I clear all thoughts from my head and start to pound into her. One hand on her hip, the other tangled in her long, thick hair as I take her over and over again. Her hands are all over me. In my hair. Digging down my shirt. Scraping along the fabric over my chest, abs, and arms. Her eyes are closed, her head is back, her mouth is open, and I’m looking at her. I’m watching her.
Yet another thing I never do. What the motherfuck is going on?
“Harder. Yes. Holy hell, Henry, just like that.”
Her eyes flash open, locking on mine. That with the combination of my name on her lips does something to me. It drives me into her harder. Deeper. I press against her and I consume her mouth. Our bodies move in sync, our rhythm increasing and Jesus it’s perfect. Just so ungodly perfect. I feel her body start to convulse around me, her moans turning into cries as she writhes in pleasure, coming without restraint. I follow her over the edge, the air sucked from my lungs as I grunt and groan and growl, losing my mind as flashes of light dance behind my eyes.
My forehead lands against hers, our breathing ragged.
Bemused laughs slip past her lips as she lowers her body back to the ground. I only now realize I had lifted her up. “Well, that was unexpected.”
It absolutely was. In the best of ways. I stare down at her through a fan of lashes, wanting to lick at her smile. Maybe I can stretch this a bit longer? Break my rules just this once? All I know is the idea of walking away from her and never seeing her again feels—
“I certainly didn’t think that would happen when I came here tonight to meet up with you guys.”
That pulls me up short. “You came here tonight to meet up with us?”
Her eyebrows furrow as she adjusts her clothes, putting everything back in place. “Of course, I was. Why else would I be here?”
Dread pools low in my gut as horrible pieces of the puzzle start coming together. I tie off the condom, sticking it into my pocket, and tucking my dick back inside my pants, zipping up. “What’s your name?”
“My name?” she parrots, pain flashing across her face quickly followed by anger. “You don’t know who I am? Are you fucking kidding me?” She stares at me, waiting for me to laugh or tell her I’m joking. She puffs out an incredulous burst of air. “You really didn’t know who I was, did you?” She scrubs her hands up and down her face. “I can’t believe this. I thought…” A humorless laugh escapes her lungs. “How stupid. I thought after all these years, you finally wanted me back,” she murmurs that last part, more to herself than to me, but I hear it all the same.
“I’m sorry…”
Her hands fall and her eyes—narrowed slits of fury—ensnare mine. “Eden Dawson. You know, your bandmate’s, your best friend’s, little sister. You remember me now, right?” she spits, vitriol dripping from each syllable. “You’ve only known me my entire fucking life.”
“Eden.” I choke on her name. Keith’s baby sister. How could I have…
Guilt and remorse clog my throat. I reach for her and she shoves me away.
“Don’t touch me. You’re such a piece of shit. How could you not have known?!”
“God, Eden. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realize. I haven’t seen you in a few years and you look so different. Nothing like Keith or your other sisters. I swear to God, I didn’t know. I would never have touched you if—”
She smacks my face. Hard. Flashes of pain prickle across my cheek, a trail of burning heat closely follows. I stare into her blue eyes, not even the slightest bit stunned. I deserve so much worse than that. She’s right. I am a piece of shit. The absolute worst sort.
Because I didn’t recognize her. In fairness, I made a point never to notice Eden Dawson or any of Keith’s sisters. The last time I saw her, she was sixteen and looked like she was twelve. She was not this woman standing before me.
Christ. Her brother will murder me where I stand. Deservedly so.
“Just go.”
I shake my head, trying to touch her again only to drop my hand at the last second. I don’t deserve her touch or forgiveness. Still… “I can’t. Eden—”
“Don’t say my name. You bastard, just go. Now I really do hate you.”
I stand immobile.
“Go,” she screams, shoving at me with all her might. This time I listen. With my heart in my throat and my stomach churning with every nasty emotion I can throw at it, I walk away. I just fucked my best friend’s baby sister in the middle of a club like any other meaningless woman. Only she’s not meaningless, and not because she’s Keith’s sister.
She was more before I even knew her name. Knew who she was.
For that reason alone, I should be relieved she slapped me while spitting venom in my face. I should be…
Something inside of me stirs uncomfortably.
I need to fix this.
Need to see her again.
Only… I have no idea how I’m going to do that. Not when her brother will kill me if he ever finds out what I just did to his baby sister.
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