You Really Got Me (Rock Star Romance #1) (15 page)

The woman sidled up to him, lacing her fingers through his and—oh, surprise—rubbing her tits against his arm. He could feel her nipples, but he couldn’t feel an ounce of want.

Not for her.

Emmie came into view, bumping hips with the shorter, curvier Tiana. If he didn’t know Emmie better, he’d think she was wasted. Who danced like that sober? He cracked a smile.

Everything she did surprised him. The woman dancing like she was in a street dance-off didn’t look like she’d just come in off the prairie. She looked uninhibited, free, and wild. He loved that she couldn’t be labeled. That she had so many layers and contradictions.

The woman squeezed his hand, reminding him of her offer. “Wanna do a shot in my tits?”

For the first time all night, Slater started laughing. He wasn’t sure what set him off. It wasn’t her language, although he’d never heard a body shot sound so unappealing. It wasn’t even her lack of seduction skills. It was more what his life had become. Instead of focusing on what he could readily have, right here, right now, his whole being was focused on what he couldn’t have.

But he was starting to think the obstacles no longer mattered.

She was his. Plain and simple.

—

Bass pounded in rhythm with her heartbeat, the tempo pulsed in her veins, and Emmie lost herself in the driving vibrations of the music. Her body took over, shutting down her mind, giving her free rein to thrust, spin, jerk, sway—whatever it needed to express itself. She felt nothing but the movement of her body and the sweat on her skin.

A guy came up from behind, clamped his hand on her stomach, brought her hard up against him, and started thrusting in a purely sexual act. Icy fear snapped her out of her trance, and she tried to break out of his hold. His hands clutched her hips, holding her in place, as he rhythmically thrust into her. She could feel his hard-on against her bottom, and she twisted away from him. He wouldn’t let go. What was his problem? Where was Tiana? Nobody seemed to notice what this guy was doing to her.

And then the guy was gone, hands ripped off her. Emmie swung around to find Slater with his elbow cocked, sweat gleaming on his hard, furious features. He swung, connected, and the guy dropped to the floor. People scattered, and a couple of guys bent down to help the jerk. A spot of blood bloomed at the corner of his mouth.

Red-faced, Slater lunged for the guy, but Emmie pushed in front of him. “Slater,” she snapped, trying to get his attention. He cut her a harsh look, breathing hard. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed. His eyes flashed, watching the guy move to get up. Emmie pressed her hands on Slater’s chest. “I’m okay.”

Quickly, the guy scrambled to his feet and glared at Slater before taking off.

Slater started after him, but Emmie pressed harder, putting her body fully in his path. “He’s not worth it.” She cupped his chin, forcing him to look at her. “I’m okay.”

She could see the difficult transition as he slowly climbed down off the tower of rage. Finally, he let out a rough breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and dragged a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

As bodies slammed into them, jostling them, she picked up his hand and ran a thumb over his raw knuckles. “Thank you.” They stood there unmoving among the chaos, the press and push of dancers. Adrenaline still pulsed through her veins. “I can’t believe you saw me.” In a packed club, how
had
he seen her?

He drew her up hard against him and held her to his damp chest. For a long moment he looked into her eyes. Her blood heated from the look she saw there. She couldn’t believe he was looking at
her
like that.

With her hands pressed to his chest, she could feel the moment the tension left his muscles.

He tipped his forehead to hers. “Enough, all right?”

What did that mean? The moment was so strange and confusing, she didn’t say anything. A tremor shuddered through her. Her heart pounded. She should probably walk away and let him go back to his flock of girls, but she really needed him to hold her. She wasn’t ready for him to let go.

They stood in the middle of the dance floor, holding each other, and she wanted to sink into him. It felt so good. Yes, it felt exciting to be in his arms, not to have him resisting or taunting or teasing, but it also felt so . . . peaceful. So right.

She didn’t want him to get all weirded out, so she started to pull away. But the moment she relaxed her hold on him, he tightened his. “Dance with me.”

Emmie looked up, overwhelmed by the emotion pouring off him. For her. He wanted to be with her. Without thinking, she let her head fall to his chest and just . . . surrendered.

He reached for her hands, brought them to his chest, and held them there tightly. She could feel his heart pounding. His feet shuffled closer to her, his chin lowered to her shoulder, and his nose nuzzled into her neck. She thought he’d possibly inhaled. Sensation bloomed on her skin.

They barely moved, just held each other, as though slow dancing at the prom. The frenetic beat of the music, the flashing strobe lights, the thrashing bodies all around them made no sense against the slow roar of blood in her veins, the thick swirl of desire churning deep inside of her.

She let out a sigh of relief, pulling her hands out of his grip and wrapping them around his neck. Slowly, she moved closer to him, their hips connecting, bound like magnets, moving together in a slow, gentle sway. His arms came around her, pulling tighter, until their dance turned more into an embrace. Was this happening? This sweet, intimate moment with him? He was allowing himself to get close to her? His gentleness stole the breath from her lungs.

When his hands flattened on her back, when his hips surged into her, when she felt the shock of his hardness against her stomach, she pulled away from him. What . . . what was
that
?

She fled into the crowd, not even knowing if he followed. Why had he done that? That deliberate gesture announcing his interest in wanting to have sex with her? After sharing an intimate moment, he’d turned to sex. No, no, it hadn’t been intimacy at all. It had been the precursor to sex.

Because that was all he knew. God, she was so stupid. Thinking he wanted something different from her. That somehow she was special. She pushed her way off the dance floor.

God, she was only human. She couldn’t take much more of this . . . this teasing from him.

He shouldn’t treat her like all the other girls he could screw and discard, pressing his boner into her like it was hers for the taking.

She hurried into the bathroom, locked herself in a stall, and just stood there, unable to catch her breath, to calm down her jittery nerves.

Hers for the taking
. He had been. He’d made that perfectly clear. She closed her eyes. God, the feel of his erection had ignited a flash flood of desire.

She wanted him between her legs, pushing inside of her. She’d never wanted a man so desperately before. Had never felt it between her legs, the throbbing, the pulsing, the
need
.

She’d never felt things like this. And she loved it. She did. It didn’t make her feel slutty or depraved or anything. It made her feel sexy.

She
loved
the way it made her feel.

She loved the way
Slater
made her feel. But not for one night. God, no. That just wasn’t her at all.

She had to get out of there. She fished her cell phone out of her bag and texted Tiana.

Can we go? Please?

Not a minute later, Tiana texted back.
Meet me at the bar.

Emmie’d had enough for one night.

She found Tiana waiting for her, looking wrecked. All Emmie’s problems dropped away, and she reached out for her friend. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s just go.”

“Did you talk to him?”

Tiana shook her head. “He just sat there watching me the whole night. The way Slater watched you.”

“Slater watched me?” Was that how he’d seen the guy mauling her?

“The whole night.” Tiana’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t notice?”

“I’m not the one obsessively staring at their table trying to make my boyfriend jealous. Besides, Slater’s preoccupied with his nightly task of choosing which groupie to go home with.”

Tiana cocked her head, looking confused. “He hasn’t gone home with anyone in weeks.”

Emmie’d suspected that, but she had wanted to hear it confirmed. “Oh, please. Just last week he didn’t come home for three nights.”

“According to Ben, Slater hasn’t been hooking up at all. They think it’s because of something you told them—something about how their success is based on girls wanting to get with him and not with their sound. I don’t know.” Tiana’s gaze narrowed, her shoulders shifted back. “See? Look at that jerk. Look at him.”

Emmie followed her gaze, found Ben staring right at Tiana. Some girl on his lap ran her fingers through his short pompadour, breaking through the wax, making it hang off his head like ferns. He seemed oblivious to the attention.

“What does he want?” Emmie asked. “Does he want you to go over there and claim him?”

“Oooh, I like the sound of that.” Tiana’s body practically undulated with need, but then she abruptly turned away. “Oh, my God. Forget it. Just forget the whole damn thing. He obviously wants
me
—not some brainless bimbo. But he won’t let go of this stupid idea in his head. Well, screw him.” She glanced back at the table. “How come I’m not enough?”

Emmie’s heart broke for her friend. “It’s not you, Tiana. It’s him. You know that. He’s immature.”

“He pursues
me
. Every time we break up,
he
comes after
me.
I mean, I’m not stupid. Ben’s no Slater. I’m not stupid enough to go after a guy like Slater.” Her eyes widened and she cringed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean—”

“No, stop. I know exactly what you mean. I’m not stupid enough to fall for him, either.” Even if she shot up in flames every time he looked at her . . . touched her. God. She felt it all over again. His erection, how it made heat burst from her core.

“It’s just . . . Slater’s in a whole different category. I mean, girls
know
they can’t get him. They feel lucky to get a piece of him, so they’ll take whatever they can get. He’s larger than life, you know? I mean, Ben breaks my heart all the time, but I’ll bet Slater’s
never
broken a girl’s heart. We just know not to put our hearts on the line for a guy like him.” She blew out a breath, giving her head a little shake, as if to snap herself out of her mood. “Let’s get out of here.”

Emmie trailed Tiana toward the exit, unable to keep herself from scanning the dance floor, searching for him. She’d interrupted his selection process, so he’d chosen her for the night. That’s all. Nothing more. Now that she’d gone, who was he pressing himself against in his super-suave invitation for one hour in nirvana? But she didn’t need to look at all. He stood right there, leaning against the door, those big, muscled arms folded, watching her.

“Oh, damn.” Tiana slowed. “What is going on with you two?”

“Nothing. I swear.”

“Whatever you say, girl. You must be made of stronger stuff than I am because if that boy looked at me the way he looks at you, my legs would be strapped around his hips right now. I don’t care where we are or who’s watching.”

Emmie couldn’t get to the door fast enough. She ignored him, pushing outside, breathing in the warm night air, which was way better than the suffocating club air.

“Emmie,” he said.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Tiana said quietly.

Hesitantly, Emmie turned to him. “What? What do you want, Slater?” She felt frantic. She wanted to run from him as badly as she wanted to throw herself into his arms and grind against him. God, to relieve this constant ache . . . there was just no relief.

“I thought that was obvious.”

“You want to have
sex
with me?” Was he that drunk? He didn’t seem drunk. But why else would he talk to her like this? Since when did he expect sex from her?

He seemed amused. “I wanted to dance with you.”

She held his gaze, wondering. He sounded so sincere, but then she couldn’t think straight. Fear had a good grip on her nerves. “Yeah, well, something got between us.”

He laughed. That look on his face? He seemed so vulnerable. He didn’t behave like this, ever. Oh. Oh, oh, oh. Was this how he made girls fall madly in love with him? Was that his secret? His charm? Pretending to be vulnerable?

“Tiana’s waiting for me.” Without looking back, she struck off for the parking lot.

He kept pace beside her. “You’re angry with me for being attracted to you?”

Heat rushed up her neck. She did not want to remember how his hard-on had made her sizzle and ache. No, no. Not when just the mention of it right then set her juices flowing. “Me, Slater? Or would any girl do right about now?”

His hand closed around her arm, and he jerked her to him. They gazed into each other’s eyes. Heat blazing in his. What was this force field around them? Why did her heart have to be so tangled up in his? It no longer mattered how she kept reminding herself that every woman had this same physical reaction to him. It didn’t diminish it. Didn’t cheapen it at all. She was drawn to him. And she knew he was drawn to her.

Just then, the look in his eyes, maybe she was naïve, maybe hopeful, but she saw her own want mirrored there. With two fingers, he held her chin, his gaze drifting down to her mouth. Sensation skittered across her skin and fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird.

His thumb stroked across her lips. “Go home.”

After washing the sweat and grime off her body in a steaming hot shower, Emmie got into bed. Number six on her list was sleeping naked, but with a house full of guys, she hadn’t felt comfortable doing it. What if they had a fire? She could just imagine leaping out of bed, racing downstairs, and facing the guys buck nekkid. Yeah, not going to happen.

She got back out of bed and put on her underpants and a tank top. Not the same feeling at all, but still. Better than the pajamas she wore in her apartment with the three roommates and all their guests.

Curling onto her side, she tucked her hand under the pillow and willed herself to fall asleep. No thoughts of Slater tonight. Just sleep.

The skin at the back of her neck tingled, and her whole body tensed in awareness. Someone had entered her room. Well,
Slater.
Who else could she sense before she saw him? Who else made her body light up at just the thought of him?

The covers pulled back, the mattress depressed, and Slater got in beside her.

“Wrong room,” she said.

He slung an arm around her waist, scooted closer. “You.” He shifted around on the pillow, and his knees bumped into the back of hers. “Only you.”

Wide awake, body wired and alert, Emmie held perfectly still, not even breathing.
Only you?
Oh, holy moly. What did that mean?

He snuggled closer, his hand tucking under her waist, his breath hot on her neck. He smelled of toothpaste and only a hint of alcohol.

What, what, what does he want?

If only her body would calm down. If only she could relax into his warmth and sleep the night away in his arms. She would love that. Love it so much.

But she just ached for him, felt swollen and hot and desperate to feel his hands on her breasts, his mouth on her skin, oh, God,
everywhere
. Liquid heat gushed between her legs at the very thought of his tongue licking into her, stroking over her clit.

Fire swept across her skin, and he flinched. He’d felt it.

“Emmie?” he whispered.

She stiffened. “Yes.”

“Did you like the song?” This softness, this . . . vulnerability, it was a whole other side of him. A side she loved. So unlike what he showed the rest of the world.

“Very much.” She held her breath, waiting. He couldn’t have written it for her, but at the same time, her gut told her it couldn’t have been for anybody else. There
was
nobody else. She was with him all the time.

She would die if it were for her, but she would be destroyed if he’d written it for someone else.

“I can’t fight this anymore.” He searched for her hands, found them, tucked them in against her stomach.

Fight what?
He might as well have poked her with a branding iron the way the shock of his words tore through her. She had to calm down. Something was happening, changing, but she didn’t know what exactly. It was too complicated between them. She couldn’t respond until she got ahold of herself. This was Slater. The man she wanted so badly she couldn’t sleep at night. But he was her friend first. Whatever she said or did, she couldn’t ruin the friendship.

And, God, she was leaving. This wasn’t her real life. She absolutely couldn’t start anything. She had to find the strength to keep herself from giving in. It would only break her heart.

Forcing herself to slow her breathing, she rested her hand on his arm. Just let it sit there until it felt normal to touch him that way. Then, when the anxiety subsided and she felt like she was back in her own skin, she turned in his arms. The slightest tilt of her chin and they’d be kissing. One stroke of her hand down his chest, and he’d be hers.

But for how long? Twenty minutes? How would he handle the morning after?

She couldn’t help but believe that whatever happened, whichever path she chose right then, she’d lose him. If she turned him away, he’d go back to his random hookups. If she gave in to this intense connection, it’d be worse. He’d run. The first scenario she could recover from, the second? She couldn’t bear it.

“What do I have to do?” he asked. “Quit the band? Not tour with them? Because I don’t think I could do that.”

“I would never ask you to do that.”

“Is it enough to not sleep with anyone else? Because I can do that.”

He could? He wanted her enough to stop screwing around with all the groupies? “Now’s probably not a good time to commit to something like that. I’ve got some things in the works for you guys.” She wouldn’t share her plans. Not yet.

“I haven’t slept with anybody since the day I saw you skinny dipping.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Are you serious?”

He smiled, but he still looked pained and unsure. “It’s not something I have a hard time keeping track of.”

They laughed softly, their breaths mingling. Her hand shifted to the back of his neck, her fingers sifting through all that thick, soft hair. “Why?”

“I want you.” Again, that look of sadness and frustration. “But I know you don’t want me. Well, I think you want
part
of me. But you’d have to take the whole thing—the singer and the songwriter, you know?” He let out a frustrated breath. “I think you only want the songwriter.”

She shook her head. “I’m attracted to both, but you’re right. I don’t think I could give myself to the singer.”

“Come on, you get hot watching me perform.” His teasing smile cut through the tension. “You looked pretty worked up tonight.”

“Please. You can’t see me when you’re onstage with all the lights in your eyes.”

“I only see you.” He breathed the words, his gaze stroking over her cheek, her eyes, her nose, and then finally, finally, settling blazing hot on her mouth. “You walked in ahead of Tiana, taking charge like you always do. You found the table and went right to it, not waiting for anybody to seat you. You faced the stage. Tiana had her back to it. You paid with cash. You recorded us.”

“You did not see all that.”

He gave her a look that said,
Really?
After all that detail?
“But I can’t look at you. If I do, I’ll lose my place in the show.”

She didn’t think she could stand hearing this. He noticed her? He wanted her? He actually
wanted
her. And, God, she wanted him so badly, beyond what she could bear. But . . . “I don’t think I can.”
Be with you.

He gave a curt nod, swallowing. He looked so pained. “Because you’re leaving?”

“Because I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I’m afraid if we do anything . . . physical, you’ll run. I couldn’t bear to lose you. You’ve become so important to me. Slater, I—”

She felt the tremor wrack his body as his forehead pressed against hers. The restraint in his powerful muscles thrilled and terrified her. He wanted her so badly—it would have been unbelievable except that she felt the answering call in her own body. How could this intensity be one-sided?
Of course
he felt it, too. She’d known it for a while. Just hadn’t been able to deal with it.

Because it would change everything. A risk she wasn’t willing to take.

“I want you, I do. And I know I can have this . . . this part of you right now. But it’s the only part of you that you give away so freely.” She searched his eyes, wondering if he could ever understand. “I want the part you don’t want to give.”

He swallowed and closed his eyes like he was in pain.

She rubbed her thumb across his cheek, and he opened his eyes. “As much as I want you physically—and you know I do—I can’t lose you, okay?”

Stupid words. She’d turned him down. He’d go now. Of course he would. She hadn’t given him sex—the only connection he knew how to make with a woman.

She knew when she woke up, he’d be gone. And tomorrow night? He’d be back to his partying ways. And they’d pass each other occasionally in the hallway or in their shared bathroom. And it would hurt like hell, because while his life rolled on seamlessly, hers would have this gaping hole. When had he become so important to her?

She rolled onto her other side, letting him leave with the least amount of embarrassment. Eyes open, she listened with her whole body, waited to feel the weight of the mattress lift, to hear the tread of his feet across the floor.

Instead, she heard the rough exhalation of a man not nearly satisfied. Then, she felt his arm wrap around her waist, a little less delicately this time, his body hot against hers, and the warmth of his breath at her neck.

A rush of emotion brought tears to her eyes.

He’d stayed.

—

Tonight, he would have her.

He still couldn’t believe what she’d said the night before. She didn’t want to lose him. She thought he’d fuck her and dump her, just like the others, and she didn’t want to lose him.

He almost couldn’t stand the emotion rising up in him at the idea that she liked him that much, needed him in her life enough that she wasn’t willing to risk losing him. Even when she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

That was so fucking hot.

He turned onto his street, surprised to see all four cars parked at the house. Disappointment rammed into him, but he knocked it aside. He’d take her upstairs. They’d be quiet. His dick surged at the thought of being alone with her, in his bed, finally sinking into her slick heat.

Parking, he jammed his keys in his pocket. He wanted both hands free to grab her, kiss that mouth he’d been fantasizing about for so long. He fucking
had
to kiss her.

He didn’t want to see her around the others, so he pulled out his phone and texted her.

I’m home. Meet me in my room?

She didn’t answer. That was okay. He’d see her in a moment. Anticipation made him feel light, almost giddy. Nothing he’d ever experienced before.

He opened the door, heard laughter in the kitchen. “Em?” he shouted, too loud, too full of energy. His hands itched to touch her, to grab a handful of that silky hair. His erection pressed uncomfortably against his jeans.

She came out, eyeing him warily. “Oh, good. You’re here.” Her strained smile cut into him. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

He charged toward her, but she held her hands out as if to block him.

“I’ve got great news. Come on.”

His excitement died as he followed her into the kitchen.

“Dude,” Cooper said. “Where you been?”

“Were you at the gym?” Pete asked. “You’re all sweaty and shit.”

“Dude. You are sexy as
fuck
,” Ben said, and everyone laughed.

“Hey,” Emmie cut in. “Guys. Listen. Piper Lee, her manager, and her A&R guy are coming to see you tonight.”

Derek’s chair shot back, falling backward to the floor in a great crash. “Holy shit, Em. Are you serious? You got them to come?”

Ben banged out a beat on the table with his hands, and Cooper whooped it up.

Emmie had her gaze on Slater, as if checking his reaction. He didn’t smile. He couldn’t. It was, obviously, great news, but he knew what it meant to her.

She thought he’d forget this little thing between them and go running off on tour, never looking back. Just like her ex. But she didn’t understand. She wasn’t dispensable. Not to him. And he couldn’t wait to tell her.

“That’s great, Em.” He spoke loudly enough that everyone paid attention. “So they’re interested in us as her opening act?”

“They’re very interested. They love the demo—”

“You sent the old one?” Pete asked.

“What choice did she have?” Slater said, in her defense.

“Irwin Ledger didn’t like it,” Ben said. “We should’ve waited.”

“We didn’t have time to wait,” she said. “Piper’s got a national tour. Their opening act fell apart. They were about to go with another band out of Minneapolis, but I overnighted them a video I made of you guys live. And they’re interested enough to put the other act on hold and fly out here to see you.”

“Holy shit,” Cooper said.

“No fuckups tonight,” Pete said.

“We never fuck up,” Derek said.

“You’re awesome, Em.” Pete got up and wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her tightly, an unusual display of emotion for him. “I’m gonna catch some z’s before the show.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Ben followed after him. “Thanks, Emmie.”

“You’re the best,” Derek said, hugging his sister. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” She closed her eyes, holding him tightly, and in that moment Slater wanted her even more. Because she was so in the moment with her brother. She wasn’t worrying about Slater or the fact she hadn’t discovered a band yet or anything but just being there with Derek. And he liked that about her.

The guys left the kitchen, and Emmie headed for her laptop on the counter.

He reached for her, his hand clasping her wrist, not letting go, and he drew her toward him. Her expression grew more anxious, and all he wanted was to kiss it away. “Emmie,” he whispered, as he brought her full up against him.

Her reserve kicked his need into overdrive. He had to break down her walls. His hands cupped her face. “What’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”

She withdrew. “I’m not. I’m happy for you guys.” She went back to her computer.

He reached for her again, desperate for her touch. “Can you stop for a second? Please?”

“I can’t. I’m late.” She clicked on a link, and a band’s website filled the screen. Music started playing. “Can you do me a favor and listen to this band? It’s just one song.” She started to go. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Wait, I want to talk to you. Where are you going?”

“I have to get ready.”

“For the show?” It was way too early. And what was this music she’d put on? Jesus.

“No, I’ve got a date.”

His muscles clenched, and anger roared through him. “With
Hector
?”

She gave a sad smile. “No, he doesn’t want to see me anymore. He told Tiana I seemed a little distant, and she told him that you and I”—she gestured between them—“had something weird going on, but not to worry because it would pass. Slater would never commit to a woman, and Emmie would never screw a man whore. Still, he said he doesn’t want the complications.” Again, she gave a soft smile. “Too bad. I think Hector might just have been my soul mate.”