ROCKME

JESSAJAMES

Contents

RockMe

Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9

Epilogue
BooksbyJessaJames
AbouttheAuthor

R O C K M E

JessaJames

AllRightsReserved.Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,electrical,digitalormechanical

includingbutnotlimitedtophotocopying,recording,scanningorbyanytypeofdatastorageandretrievalsystemwithoutexpress,written

permissionfromtheauthor.

PublishedbyJessaJames

James,Jessa

RockMe

Images/PhotoCredit:RomanceNovelCovers

Publisher’sNote:

Thisbookwaswrittenforanadultaudience.Thebookmaycontainexplicitsexualcontent.Sexualactivitiesincludedinthisbookarestrictly
fantasiesintendedforadultsandanyactivitiesorriskstakenbyfictionalcharacterswithinthestoryareneitherendorsednorencouragedby
theauthororpublisher.

C H A P T E R 1

VERY

GUY

gotagirlthatgotaway.Onethatrockedhisworldthenfuckeduphislife.Yeah,Ihadone.

CrystalKerry.Shit.Justthinkinghernamewaslikedrivingastakeintomyheart.Mademyballsache.
She'dbeenperfect.Myfuckinghighschoolsweetheart.Yeah,sweetheart.

I'd forgotten how fucking crowded New York was and had to cut through all the people on the

sidewalk. Shit, it was insane. But, I was a face in a crowd. I wasn't Kit Kaswell, lead singer for
Nightbird.Iwasjustaguylostinaseaofhumanity.Thankfuck.MythoughtswereonCrystalandIdidn't
needafantograbholdandwantaselfieoranautographacrosshertits.Iwantedtowallowintheone
that got away. No, the one I pushed away and crushed, like a tank rolling over a soft, sweet, innocent
kitten.

Crystalhadbeentheone.Hadbeenkindandgentle,alwaysasmileformesincethefirstdayoftenth

grade.She'dtransferredtoWhitfieldPrepasascholarshipstudent.Ourclassmatesknewshewasfrom
thewrongsideofthetracks.Poor.They'dsniffedoutherblue-collarbackground,eventhoughshelooked
likeeveryoneelseinthenavyandgreenschooluniform.

Ithadbeenhardforher,beingnew.Beingbeautiful.Allthegirlswho'dbeenflirting—andfuckingall

theguys,suddenlyhadcompetition.NotthatCrystaleverdidanything.Justbeingprettywasenough.The
guys, they called Crystal fresh meat. With her blond hair and pale blue eyes, she was as upper crust
lookingaseveryoneelse.Butunlikeherclassmates,shedidn'tknowhereffectonothers.Hadnoideashe
washot.Notjustaveragehot,thatanyteenageboywouldwanttobang,butnightafternightofwetdreams
hot.Orjerkingoffintheshowerjustthinkingaboutherperkytitsandlonglegshot.

Thatwasfineformetolustafter,butnotanyoneelse.Especiallynottheassholesonthelacrosseteam

who'dmadeittheirmissiontoseewho'dfuckherfirst.They'dwantedthatscholarshipcherryandputbets
onit.

I'dshutthatshitdownfast.Myfistslandedmewithathree-daysuspension,butIwouldhavedoneit

againinaheartbeat.NoonewasgoingtotouchCrystal.Noone…butme.Shewasmine.Iknewitthefirst
fuckingtimeIsawher.

Myparentshadgivenmehellforgettingintothefight.Hellforthesuspension.HellforthehoursI

spentplayingguitarandwritingmusic.IguessIdisheditrightback.Fornotbeingtheprodigalson,the
futureCEOofBullshitBluebloodsAnonymous,fornotbeingatypicalKaswell.Hell,I'dbeenbornwith
asilverspoon,butI'dspititoutandgrabbedholdofaguitarinstead.I'dbeenthefuckingblacksheepof
thefamily.Stillwas.AndlivinginthathouseaftermytwoolderbrothersgraduatedfromWhitfieldand

wentontoIvyLeagueschools,thepressurehadbeenontomeasureup.

Whatever.I'dgivenupthechancesforthatwhenIwastenandwantedtotakeguitarlessonsinsteadof

playingBeethovenonthepiano.IknewI'dnevermeasureup.Ithadn'tbeenworththeeffort.

AsforCrystal,she'dwantedtosucceedatWhitfield.Hell,ithadbeenherchance,heropportunityto

get out of the shithole household she had. With a mother who was a doormat to a father who drank too
muchandheldtoofewjobs,she'dknownitwasherescape.Andshefuckingtookit.GotA'sinallher
classes,wasvaledictorian.Shemanagedtodoallthisevenwithmefollowingheraroundlikealovesick
fool.ButIlovedher,protectedher.ShewasmylifeandIwassomuchmorethanjustherboyfriend.I
washerbestfriend.She’dtoldmeeverything.Givenmeeverything.

Yeah,she'dtakenonelookatmeandmelted.Somehow,bysomefuckingmiracle,she’dfalleninlove

withmyroughedges,thefactthatIdidn'tfitin,didn'tgiveafuck.SheknewIwasherprotector,thatI'd
do anything for her. We might've been each other's firsts, but I hadn't taken that scholarship cherry. No.
She'd given it to me one night in the back of my pickup. We'd been in love. Even said the words. I’d
spilledmygutsasshesankdownonmylap,nakedandwetandtoomuchformyseventeen-year-oldbody
toresist.CrystalandKit.Wewereinseparable.IknewIdidn’tdeserveher.Iwasaspoiledsilverspoon.
Ihadneverworkedashardasshehadto.She'dbeensmart,sofuckingsmart,andIdidwhatIcouldto
keep her safe from the jealous bitches, and away from the jocks that noticed the same things I did. She
wasn’tjustsmart,she’swasgorgeous,allcurvesandakillersmile.

Iwastheworstofthemall.Onequicksmile,onehotkiss,andIwoulddoanythingshesaid,including

study.Andsoperhapsshe'dfuckedmeintograduating.GotmygradesupsoIcouldgetmydiploma,and
listentohersweetvaledictorianspeech.She’ddraggedmealonginherwakeuntilwewerebothonour
lifepaths,untilshemetmeoneFridaynightwiththenewsshe'dgottenthescholarshiptoStanford,that
shewasgoingtogiveitupforme.

It was then, I knew. I was no good for her. I was a dead end. I wasn't going to college. Hell, my

parentshadbeenthreateningtocutmeoffifIwentaheadwithmyplantomakeacareerinmusic.AndI
didn'tmeanthefuckingsymphony.

No,Crystalwasgoingplaces.Butnotwithme.So,I'dcutherloosetheonlywayIknewhow.Imade

surenewsspreadthatI'dfuckedLindsayMack,thatwhileItookCrystal'svirginity,Ihadn'tgivenhermy
heart.

Ididn’ttouchLindsay.ButCrystaldidn’tknowthat.
Mycellrang,bringingmebackfromthepast.IpulleditfrommypocketasIweavedaroundawoman

pushingastroller.

“What?”Ibarkedintothephone.
“Thesoundcheck'ssetforfour.”TiaMonroewasagoodbandmanager,butshecouldbeapaininthe

ass.

“Fine.I'llbethere.Mightbeafewminuteslate.”IhadnoideahowlongIwouldneedifIwasgoing

toseeCrystalagain.

“Late?Why?”
“Ihavesomethingtodo.”Someonetosee.
I heard Tia say something else, but I tuned her out. Ended the call. Thought of Crystal. Tia and the

bandcouldwait.I'ddevotedthepasttenyearsofmylifetotourbusesandrecordingstudios,theycould
waitthirtyfuckingminutessoIcouldgetaglimpseofCrystalagain.Knowingwewereinthesametown
broughtitallback.

Shit,aftertenyearsitguttedmetorememberthelookonherfacewhenI'dsaidwhatI'ddone.What

I'dsupposedlydone.LindsayMackhadsleptherwaythroughourentireclassanddidn'tcareifIspread
lies.Hell,she'dhatedCrystalandwasmorethanhappytostrikeherdowntheonlywayshecould.

With tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she'd turned and run away. Ran right out of my life for

good. On to Stanford. Graduate school. And then some. She'd hated me, probably still did, but I could
deal.Shewastoodamngoodforme,alwayshadbeen.Shecouldhatemeandliveherdreams.

She'ddonejustwhatshe'dsetouttodo.Succeed.Hell,she'ddonethat.ThatwaswhyIstoppedin

frontofthethree-storychainbookstoreonFifthAvenue.Shewashereforabooksigning.I'dlosttrackof
herwhensheleftforCalifornia,butjustsixmonthsago,I’dturnedonthetelevisiontoseehersittingnext
tothemostfamouslatenighttalkshowhostinthecity.Thenovelshe'dwrittenacoupleofyearsago,had
hittheNewYorkTimeslist,bigtime.Herstorysoldinamulti-million-dollardealandthehottestasshole
inHollywoodwassittingnexttoher,playingthespy-thrillerheroshe’ddreamedupinherhead.Fucker
touchedhershoulder,flirtedwithher.Andshesmiledback,butitwasasmileIknew.Brittle.Stressed.
SobeautifulmycockrosetoattentionasIwatchedher,thoseblueeyes,thosepinklips.Sheblinked,and
laughed, made all the right motions for the audience, but I knew Crystal. My girl didn’t like to be the
centerofattention.

Andshewasstillmine.Ikneweveryinchofherbody,howshelikedtobetouched,kissed,fucked.

She was famous. Rich. She was no longer from the wrong side of the tracks. Hell, she made her own
fuckingtracks.

Iwassodamnproudofher.WhatwerethechancesI'dbeintownontourthesametimeshewashere?

WhenI'dseenherfaceonahuge-assbillboard,IknewIhadtogo.Ihadtoseeher,toseeanexpression
on her face other than the heartbreak I'd caused her. Those sad eyes, the tears, had haunted me for a
decade.Icouldn’tlethergiveupStanfordforme,butthatdidn’tmeanwatchingherwalkawayhadn’t
rippedmyfuckingheartout.

Thestorewashuge.Threefloors.ItwaspackedwithfanswantingabooksignedbyCrystal.Tohear

hergiveatalkabouthercharacters,howshecameupwiththeincredibleplot.Thesepeoplemighthave
readherwork,lovedit,butIwasherbiggestfan.Hers.Notherstory.Hell,theyhadn'twalkedawayfrom
hertosaveher.

The ground floor was too crowded to get anywhere near her. Hell, I barely made it through the

revolvingdoor.Thelinewaslonganditsnakedandcurved.Spottingastairwellthatwenttothesecond
floor,IaimedforthebalconywhereIcouldlookdownandgetaglimpseofher.Iknewfromthepress
photos she still wore her glasses. Still had the blond hair, the gorgeous blue eyes. She'd gotten older,
grownfromagirltoawoman.Woremakeup.Heels,fancyclothes.Noprepschooluniformorcherrylip
gloss.

Settlingin,Ileanedagainsttherailingtolookdown.Thereshewas.Fuck,myheartskippedabeat

just seeing her again. The first time in ten years. The pictures didn't do her justice. While they showed
only the confident woman that wrote that killer book, it hid her personality. The introvert who smiled
because she had to. The quiet personality that liked a night in with a movie much better than one
surroundedbyhundredsofrabidfans.

Isawthetensenessinhershouldersevenasshesmiledandchattedwithfans,signingherautograph

over and over again. The sleek hair, the pretty blue dress, the fancy heels. It was all frosting. God, I
wantedtostripherbare,torevealtherealCrystal.Tofindheragain,tomakehermineoncemore.

Andwhensheturnedtotalkwithawomanwhostoodbehindthetablenexttoher,perkyandbubbly

withherredhairandequallyreddress,shesomehowglancedup.Sawme.AsifsheknewIwashere.

Hereyeswidened.Hersmileslipped.Thepenslippedfromherfingers.Thosebluefuckingeyesheld

mineandIknew.Likeafuckingsuckerpunchtothegut,shewasgoingtobemineagain.I'dwalkedaway
once.Tenyearsago,I’dhadnothingtoofferher.I’dlethergo.

Icouldn’tdoitagain.

C H A P T E R 2

rystal

HAD

no idea so many people would show up. Vi had said it was going to be big, but this? This was

almostamob.Andalltoseeme?God,Iwasn'tsureifIcouldsmileanymore.No,Iwasn'tbeingabitch
about my success. My book had done so much better than I ever imagined. I never expected to get an
agent,anagentwhosoldittoaNewYorkpublisher.Hell,anagentwhosoldthemovierightstooneof
thetopproducersinHollywood.I’dneverexpectedtobesittingonthelateshowcircuitnexttooneofthe
hottestactorsintheworld.Themoviewassettobeablockbuster.Astunning,toobeautifultobereal,
AcademyAwardwinningactresswasplayingthefemalelead.Mybook!

Yeah,I'dwantedtobeawriter,butthis?Thiswascrazy.Iwantedtojustgetbacktomyhotelroom

andtakeashower,putonmyyogapantsandt-shirtandchillwithagoodbookandaglassofwine.No
noise.Nosmiling.Hell,nocontactwithanyone.Ineededsomepeaceandquiet.Theenergyofthecrowds
wasoverwhelming.Theattentionliterallymademesicktomystomach.Andthatwasonethingthathad
never changed. Yes, I’d grown up, learned how to deal with public appearances, but that only meant I
neededabubblebathandbottleofwinetosavemysanityafterward.

As part of a three-month press tour, all I could do was smile and sign. Make small talk. Smile for

selfies.Hug.Touch.Shakehands.Mypublicist,Vivian,haditallworkedout.Thankgod.Iwouldn'twant
herjob,butshelovedtakingcareofallthecrazydetails.Ofme.Sure,shewasonpayroll,butshewas
alsomyfriend.Exceptforrightnow,whenshehandedmeanotherbooktosign.

“Almostdone,”shewhispered.IwasabouttonodandturnbacktothenextpersoninthelinewhenI

sawhim.

Him.
Holyfuck.KitKaswell.
Iswearmyheartleaptoutofmychest.Hewaslookingatme.No,staringsointentlyIswearIfeltitto

mycore.Kitwashere…forme.Hewasn'tinline,justwatching.

Thenhegaveaslightnod.Nothingmore.Hisdarkhairslippedoverhisforehead.Itwaslongerthan

whenwewereinhighschool,butI'dseenhimsincethenoncoveraftercoverofthegossipmagazines.
WhileI'dhititbigwithmybook,Kithadturnedhisrockstardreamsintoreality.FromwhatI'dreadin
magazines,he'dworkedhisassoffwithhisbandmates,playingsmallgigsforyears.Thenthey'dwritten
asong,Angel,thetypeofsongthatbroughtaroundthemajorrecordlabels.Theysigned.Hitthebigtime.
Platinumalbums,awards,concertsaroundtheworld.

Women.Womenineverycity,adifferentoneonhisarmeverynight.Wildparties,fucking.Itwasall

describedinarticleafterarticleaboutthefamousKitKaswell.Ireadeveryword,gobbleditallup,even
usingaGooglesearchnotificationtofeedtheimagestomelikeajunkie.Evidently,Iwasamasochist.
Every image hurt. Every smile, every groupie hanging on his arm. He’d been linked to models and
Broadwaystarlets,fashiondesignersandothermusicians.EveryoneofthemlookedupathimthewayI
usedto.Hewasagod,afuckingsexgod.Andnow,thefamousleadsingerofNightbirdhadmadethelist
offiftymostbeautifulpeopleintheworld.

Whichwasjuststupid.Therewasn’tamanalivesexierthanKit.
Ishouldn'thavecared.He'drippedmyheartout.God,itstartedwithLindsayMackduringthesummer

aftergraduationandhehadn'tstoppedfuckingsince.No,he'dstartedwithme,thendumpedmeforbigger
boobs,shorterskirts,loosermorals.InthetenyearssinceI'dseenhimlast,he'dgonethroughhundredsof
womenwhileIcouldcountmysexualexperiencesononehand,withafewfingersstillfoldeddown.

NomanhadeverymeasureduptoKit.God,we'dbeenfumblingteenagersthatfirsttimeinthebackof

his truck. It had hurt like hell, but he'd made it good, been patient and gentle even though I knew he'd
wantedtojustfuck.Andafterthat,we'dgoneatitlikerabbits,alwaysmakingsureIcamefirst.Heknew
just how to set me off. It had been hot, but it had been special. He'd made me feel pretty. Wanted.
Protected.Loved.

Lies.Lies.Lies.
But then it all came crashing down. I hadn't been enough for him. He'd ripped my heart out with a

ruthlessprecisionI’dcometoexpectfrommymostviciousfemaleclassmates.Noonecoulddocruellike
therichbitchesatourprepschool.I'dfalleninlovewithhimbecausehe'dbeendifferent,butno.Inthe
end,he’dfollowedinthefamilyfootstepsafterall.Fuckallformoney,fameandsuccess.

I'dgonetoStanfordonafullride,heartbrokenandalone.I'dstudiedtoblockthepainofhisrejection,

hisaffair.Butthenhe'dtauntedmebybecomingfamous.Hisfacewaseverywhere.Thesongsheusedto
singtomeinthebackofhistruckwereontheradio.Ihadn'tbeenabletoavoidhimnomatterwhereI
went. By then, I'd put a wall around my heart so thick nothing got through. No one with a penis was
allowedintomyheart.I’dturnedintoacold,mercilessbitch.Hell,I’dturnedintooneofthebitchesI’d
hatedallthroughhighschool.I’dlovednomansince,notevenmyhusband.WhichwaswhyRobertwas
nowmyex-husband.

IfollowedKit’scareerasafriend.Anddespitehowbadlyhe’dhurtme,Icouldn’thelpbutbehappy

forhissuccess.He’ddoneexactlywhathe'dplanned.Hewasrulingtheworldwithaguitarinhishands.
JustlikeI’dalwaysknownhewould.

As he looked at me, there was no guitar. There was the signature black t-shirt and worn jeans. The

rakishhair,thefiveo'clockshadow.HewastheboyIremembered.Allgrownup.Hewasallman now
and my body responded like a plucked guitar string, coming to life with a vibrant hum I hadn’t felt in
years.

Damnhim.Icouldn’tstoplooking.Stopfeeling…
“Crystal,”Vimurmured.“Whatareyoulookingat?”
WhenIdidn'tlookaway,sheglancedupaswell.Herhandgrippedmyarmlikeatalon.“Holyshit,is

that—”

Inodded.
“He'safuckingrockstar.God,IhaveeveryoneofNightbird'salbums.Everyoneoftheguysinthe

bandarehotashell.Andhe'sstaringatyou.”Sheglancedatme.“Crystal,doyouknowhim?”

DidIknowKitKaswell?Inodded.Everyinchofhisskin.Thetasteofhiskiss,thethicklengthof

his…

Sheletoutalittlescream,butcoveredhermouthwithherfingers.
“Girlfriend,Iwantthescoop.”
Istaredathimforonemoresecond,thenturnedaway.BlinkingatVi,Itriedtoshakeoffthejoltof

awarenessthatwaswreckingme.SheeyedmewithaneagernessIhadn'tseenbefore.“Youreallylike
Nightbirdthatmuch?IhadyoupeggedforaTaylorSwiftcollection.”

“Comeon!He'sgorgeous.Thatdarkhair.Andthewayheplaysguitar,Ihavetowonderwhathecan

dowiththosehands.Canyouimaginehowdexterousthosefingersare?”

Yeah,Icouldimagine.Icouldmorethanimagine.
Imadeanon-committalsoundandshesquealed.
“Not here. Not now,” I whispered. I flicked one last look his way, met his heated, dark gaze. “Not

ever.”

Iwasdone.KitKaswellruinedmeonce.Iwouldn'tlethimdoitagain.Ipastedonasmileandgoton

withmylife,turnedbacktothenextpersonwaitingpatientlyinline.I'dseenhim.I'dsurvived.

Pickingupmypenfromthefloor,Ireturnedtomylife,alifethatdidnotincludehim.

RYSTAL

“C

RYSTAL

.”

Iknewthatvoice.Hearditinmydreams.Rememberedit.Rememberedwhenhe'dsaiditplayfully

justbeforehe'dkissme.Rememberedwhenithadbeensaidroughanddeepwhenhecame,burieddeep
insideme.

Iclosedmyeyes,tookadeepbreath.Turned.
PutonthatfakesmileIwassogoodatthesedays.
“Kit.”
“Holy shit, Kit Kaswell,” Vi said his name as she moved to stand right beside me, blocking him in

betweenthetableandthewall.Whilehecouldhavemovedheroutoftheway—hewaswelloverahead
tallerthanmypint-sizedPRrep—hejustgavehertheusualcharmingturnofhislips.

“Andyouare?”heasked.
“VivianLonsdale.MyfriendscallmeViandyouaredefinitelyoneofmyfriends.”
God,shewassuchaflirt.Definitelysomeonehe'dtakeintoabackroomandfuck.Ifheoffered,Ihad

nodoubtViwouldgiveherselftohim.Shedidn'tmindbeinganothernotchonhisbedpost.

“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Iasked.
Heturnedtolookatme…andnotthewayhelookedatVi.Thisdarkgazewaspenetrating,asifhe

sawpastmyshinynewPRexteriortothegirlhe'dlovedandlost.No,notlost,kickedtothedamnedcurb.

“Isawyourfaceonabillboardafewblocksfromhere.”
God,I'dseenthat.Ihadnoideamynosewassobiguntilitwasfortyfeettall.
“I'minlotsofpress.Youdidn'thavetocomeseemeinperson,”Icountered.
“Crystal!”Viscolded.“She'sjusttired.You'llhavetoexcuseherbehavior.”
Heshookhishead,hisdarkhairfallingoverhisforeheadagain.Iitchedtoreachout,brushitback,to

feelthosesilkystrandsagain.

“No,Crystal'sright.Ididn'thavetocomeseeher.Iwantedto.”WhilehespoketoVi,hekepthiseyes

pinnedonmine.“I'vebeenstalkingheronlineforawhilenow.”

My heart thumped once, really hard, as a thousand images flooded my mind. Kit, with a hundred

fabulous,beautifulwomenonhisarmoverthelasttenyears.Andnoneofthemme.

“Youguysknoweachotherorsomething?”sheasked.God,shewasatroublemaker.
“Orsomething,”hemurmured.

Hiseyesturneddarkerandwhenheranhisthumbacrosshischin,Icouldn'tmisstheloudrasp.Ten

yearsagohebarelyhadwhiskersandnow…nowhewasthehottestmancandyever.

“Iloveallyourmusic,”Visaid,clearlytryingtofillthevoid.
“Ihaveaconcerttonight.”HelookedtoVi.“Youshouldcome.Itstartsatseven.I'llleavetwoVIP

backstagepassesatWillCall.They’llletyoubackstageatsixsoyoucanmeettheband.Lookaround.I’ll
giveyouapersonaltour.”

Vialmostscreamed.Headsturnedatthewayshewasjumpingwithunrepressedgleebeforemoving

on.

“Yes,Godyes.We'llbethere,won'twe,Crystal?”

C H A P T E R 3

rystal

BLINKED

atmyfriendwhowasgoingtokillmewithherbarehandsifIsaidno.Turndownbackstage

passesandatourbytheleadsingerofNightbird?Yeah,I'dbedeadallright.Iknewshewasabigfan.I
wasonetoo,butonlybecauseI'dgivenmyhearttotheleadsingeradecadeago,andnevergotitback.

“Idon’tknow,Kit.”HisnamefellfrommylipsautomaticallyasIfoughtforair.Whywashehere?

And why was I listening to a word he said? He’d ripped my heart out and stomped on it when I was
eighteen.WasIreallygoingtosubjectmyselftohisparticularbrandoftorture?

“Come.”God,thatonewordfromhislipsmademeshiver.I'dheardhimsayitbefore,buthehadn't

beentalkingaboutaconcert.Then,I'dbeenbeneathhim,hiscockdeepinsideme.Or,he'dhadhishead
betweenmylegs,hismouthdirectlyovermyclit.

Ishifted,broughtmythighstogethertoeasetheache.God,withjustonewordhestillmademehot.

So,yes.IguessIwasgoingtotakearideonthecrazytraintonight.Ifnothingelse,Icouldseewhathe’d
madeofhimself.Meetthemembersofhisband.Icouldfinallystopwonderingabouthislife.Maybethat
wouldhelpmelethimgo.

“We'llbethere.Absolutely.”Vi'spromisehungbetweenus,thickandheavywithtenyearsofregret

andlongingandmissinghim.

“Look,Ihavetoreportinbyfour.ButI'llseeyoubothtonight.”Helookedatmeasecondlonger.“It's

goodtoseeyou,Crys.”

Thenhewasgone,cuttingthroughthecrowd.Itseemedhewasn'toutofmylifeafterall.

HADN

’

BEEN

thisnervousforashowinyears.Theknotsinmyguthadnothingtodowiththethousandsof

fans already pouring into the arena. I hadn’t been able to eat a damn thing since I saw her, since she’d
calledme‘Kit’inthatsexyfuckingvoice,sinceshe’dbittenherlipandstaredupatmewiththosefucking
baby-blueeyesthatrippedthroughmelikeclawsthroughpaper.

Mygirlwasallgrownupnow.Andshemightbehissingandsnarlingatme,butIsawthewayher

eyesdarkenedasshelookedatme.Itwasstillthere.It.Thecompletelyillogicalandperfectconnection

betweenus.Loveatfirstsight,neverstopwantingher,it.Standinginfrontofher,ithadn’tseemedlikeit
had been ten years since I'd had her beneath me, clawing at my back and whimpering my name. Ten
minutes.Tenseconds.Hell.

Icouldstillsmellherskin,tastehersweetpussyonmytongue.IfIclosedmyeyes,IwouldswearI

couldstillfeelthedelicioushurtofheryankingonmyhair,beggingmetomakeherforgeteverythingin
theworldbutus.

“Yo,Kit.Dude,pizza’sgettingcold.”
“Thanks,man.”InoddedatCole,whojustshookhisheadandwalkedbacktothedressingroomto

kickuphisfeet,eatsomepizza,andwatchwhateverwasontheTV.Ourbandmanager,Tia,showedup
withmyfavoritepre-concertpizzaandsetupenoughfoodinthegreenroomforasmallarmy.Abottleof
whiskeysatnexttothepizzaboxesonthefold-outtableintheback.Unopened.Whichwasstrange.

Normally,ReeseKeeland,ourdrummer,openeditupandwealltookashottohelpcalmthenerves.

Tonight,hewaslyingonthefloor,feetuponthesofa,eyesclosedlikehewastakingafuckingnap.The
restofthebandmembersweredrapedonthefurnitureorgrabbingabite.Sebastianhadtheloveofhis
life—asixstring,pearlblack,electricguitar—layingacrosshislaplikehewasgoingtomakelovetoit.

Iwasn’tinthemoodforwhiskey,oranythingelse.Itwassix-thirty,andshewasn’there.
“Yougoingtoeat,orwhat?”TiasteppedinfrontofmeandIrealizedI’dbeenpacinglikeacaged

animal. I wasn’t even looking forward to the show. The usual adrenaline punch to the gut was gone.
Insteadoffiredupfortheperformance,Ifeltempty.Deadontheinside.Likeadesertedbackalleyina
reallydarkpartofthecity.

“Nothungry.”
Sebastianstrummedafewchordsandshookhisheadatme.“What’supwithyou,man?You’vebeen

weirdsincelastnight.”

Lastnight.WhenIsawthatdamnbillboardwithCrystal’sfaceonitasIrodeinfromtheairport.I'd

made the driver stop as I got out and stared at the gorgeous face I saw in my dreams. Angel. Since the
momentithitmewhatahugefuckingmistakeI’dmadetenyearsago.“Nothing.I’mfine.”

Tiaarchedonedark,thinbrow.Shewasfivefoot-nothingwithaspineofsolidsteel.Noonemessed

with us because no one messed with her. She could curse like a sailor. I’d seen her back down venue
owners, bouncers at the seediest bars in the country, and contract lawyers. She was pure fire hidden
beneathahundredpoundsofblacksilkhairandbadattitude.“Good.ThenI’llcallthefrontandtellthem
tobringbackyourguests.”

“What?”Reeseopenedhiseyesandlookedupatmefromwhereherestedonthefloor.“Man,what

thefuck?Noonebackstage,notthistime.We’realltired,man.Whoisit?”

“I’mnotputtingontheprettyboyacttonight.Whoeveritiswilljusthavetoeatapieceofpizzaand

chill.” Sebastian returned his attention to his guitar, and whatever new song he was working on in his
head.

“Whatever. I’m not moving.” Reese closed his eyes and resumed his Zen meditation pose. I didn’t

care.Nothingtheysaidmattered.

“Whendidtheygethere?”
Tiacheckedherphone.“Abouttenminutesago.”
Tenminutes?She'dbeenherethatlongandIhadn'tknown?
“Iputthemonstorageintheowner’soffice.Wasn’tsurewhatwasgoingonbecausesomeonedidn’t

tellme.”

“Sorry.”Okay,yeah,thatsomeonewasme,butIdidn’tcare.Shewashere.IlookeddownatTia.“I

needafavor.Ahuge,oweyoufortherestofmylife,favor.”

Sherolledherdarkeyes,butwasalreadygrinning.IftherewasonethingintheworldTialoved,it

wasbeingneeded.“What?”

Igrabbedherbytheelbowandpulledherwithmeintothehallway,andawayfromthebandandtheir

prying eyes. They were like a bunch of gossiping old ladies when they wanted to be. “Two women,
right?”

“Yes.”
“Onetall,gorgeousblondeandaredheadnotmuchbiggerthanyou?”
Tianodded.“Yes.”Ihurriedtowardthebackofficewhereshe’dstashedCrystalbutTiadugherheels

inandbroughtmetoafullstop.“Kit,whatthehellisgoingon?Whoarethey?Andwhyaretheyback
here?”

“Theredhead’snameisVi.She’sapublicistforamajorNewYorkpublishingcompany.Theblond

withherisCrystalKerry.”

Tia’seyeswentwideandIknewIhadher.“Thewriter?”
“Yes.” I started walking again, eager to see Crystal. “I need you to take Vi around, give her a tour,

introducehertotheband.”

Hergrinbecamemorethanalittlesuspicious.“Andwhatwillyoubedoing?”
“BeggingforgivenessfromtheonlywomanIeverloved.Likeever.”
Tiastoppedmovingagain.“Crystal?YourCrystal?Fromhighschool?”
Forfuck’ssake.Weretherenosecretsaroundhere?“HowdoyouknowaboutCrystal?”
Tia laughed. “You used to drink a lot, Kit. And when you get drunk, you like to talk about her. For

hours.”

Jesus.“Shutup.Justbemywingman,allright?”
Tiashrugged.“Sure.Butyouowemeone.”
Weopenedthedoorandthereshewas,Vi’spresencebesideherlikeashield.Theofficewasreally

like a green room. An old couch, a few chairs, one of those makeup stations with a mirror and round
lightbulbsallaroundit.

TiarushedinandtookchargelikeabattlehardenedgeneralandViwasonlytoohappytobeescorted

outoftheroombeforeCrystalhadachancetoblink,letaloneprotestthatwewerealone.

“Crys.”
Shit,shelookedgood.Inapairofskinnyjeans,herlegslookedamilelong.Herhipshadwidened,a

reminderthatI'dhurtagirl,butbeforemenowwasawoman.Sheworeapalepinktop,softandflowy,
withcutoutsattheshoulders.Itwasflirty,nottoosexy.ButshecouldhavewornasackandI'dhavefound
herhot.Becauseclothesdidn'tmatter.Iknewwhatwasunderneath.

“Kit.”ThedoorlatchedbehindmeandIdidn’tbothertoturnaround.IwouldthankTialater.
ItooktwostepscloserandthankedmyluckystarsthatCrystaldidn’tbackaway.Butthen,thatwasn’t

herstyle.Backingoffhadneverbeenherstyle.

“Whatareyoudoing?WhatamIdoinghere?”Thelastwassaidwithahintoflaughter.Butatleast

shewasn’tscreaming,orthrowingshitatmelikeshehadbefore.NotthatIhadn’tdeserveditthatnight.
That,andmore.

Iclosedthedistanceandliftedmyhandtohercheek.“FixingwhatIbroke.”
“There’snofixingthis.”
Iranmythumboverherbottomlipandbreathedherin,lavenderandcherrylipgloss.Fuck.Shestill

woreit.ThesweetscentfilledmyheadandIknewexactlyhowherlipswouldtaste,howsoftthey’dbe.
Howhotthatinnocentlookingmouthwaswhenitclosedaroundmycock.HereyesflutteredshutandI
knewIhadher,atleastforamoment.

Like a magnet, she drew me in and I lowered my head until our lips met in a tender, tentative

exploration.Ididn’twanttoscareheraway.Ididn’twanthertorun.Ineededher.

Mine. Mine. Mine. She’d been mine since she was sixteen. I wrapped my arms around her and

crushed her to me, all pretense of gentleness gone. How could I hold back when the most perfect thing

wasbeforeme?Noonecompared.Ever.Hersoftmoansettleddeepinmybonesandmycockhardened
instantly.Iknewthatsound.God,I’dmissedthatfuckingsound.

C H A P T E R 4

WRAPPED

her arms around my waist as I lost myself in her taste, in the soft, wet slide of her tongue

againstmine.Ifuckedherwithmymouth,exploringandtastingher,thrustingasIwantedtodowithmy
cock.Herarmsblockedmefromgainingaccesstotherestofherbody,butIrubbedherback,explored
thecurveofherhip.Grabbedherass.

Shehadagreatfuckingass.Fullandroundandsoft,perfectfor…allkindsofthings.
Iwalkedusbackwarduntilherbackhitthewallandshetoreherlipsfromminewithagasp.Fine.I’d

letherbreathe,butIcouldn’tstop.Nowthatshewasinmyarms,itwaslikemyentirebeingwasstarving
formore.Mycockpressedintoherandtherewasnowayshecouldmissit.

Inibbledherchinandjaw,nudgedherheadtothesidesoIcouldkissandsuckandlickmywaydown

herneck.Sheliftedherarmstomyhead,buriedherfingersinmyhairjustlikesheusedto.“Kit.”

Breathless.Hot.Shesaidmyname,butitwasn’taquestion,morelikeanI-missed-yousigh.
Withherarmsup,IhadfullaccesstotherestofherandItookadvantage,slidingonehandinsidethe

backofherpantstocupherbareass—fuck,shewaswearingathong—andtheotherupunderhershirtto
cupherbreast,tokneadandtugonhernipplethewayIknewsheliked.Herheaddroppedback,banging
againstthewallandshearchedherback,pressedintomyhands.

“Kit.Whatarewedoing?”SheshudderedasIbitdownonhercollarbonelightlyandslippedmyhand

insideherbra.Shewassofuckingsoft,everywhere.EvenbetterthanIremembered.

Icouldn’tgiveherananswer,notrightnow.IfItoldherthetruth,toldherwhatIwanted,she’dtell

metogofuckmyself.

Iwantedher.Iwantedahome,andthreeorfourblue-eyedbabiesandacoupleoffurry,annoyingcats

thatwouldsitinherlapandhissatmewheneverItoldthemtogetlost.Thelastfewyearsontheroad
hadbeenhard,andlonely.WhenIlefther,Ihadnothing.Myparentsdisownedmejustasthey'dwarned
andI’dgonetoNewYork,foundtheguys,startedtheband.I’dlivedonwhiskeyandpeanutbutterfortwo
years,drunkmorethanIwassober.Theacheinsidemethatwasuniquelyhersneverquiteassuagedby
boozeordrugsorwomen.Itdulledovertheyears,butithadnevergoneaway.Notuntilthismoment.

Kissingheragain,Ikepthermouthtoobusytoaskquestions.Thefamiliartasteofhercherrylip-gloss

drovemeoutofmymindandIrealizedtherewasnogoingback.Notthistime.

I’dgonetoCaliforniaafterthebandhititbig,whenIhadenoughmoneytoofferhersomethingother

thananapartmentIsharedwiththreeotherassholesandlifeinthebackofavan.I’dthoughtmaybeI’d
madeamistake.Maybe,onceshegraduatedfromStanford,Icouldfitherintomylifewithoutwrecking

hers.

AndthatwaswhenI’dseenthecock-suckingsurferboyandthegiantdiamondonherfuckingfinger.

She’dmarriedthatassholesixweekslaterandthathadbeenit.I’dbeendrowningeversince.Lost,likea
shipatseawithnooarsandnosail.I’dwrittenmusic,lotsofmusic,anddrownedmyselfinwomento
maskthethoughtsofmyCrystalgivingherselftosomeoneelse.We’dplayedconcertsallovertheworld.
Ididn’tneedmyfamilymoneyanymore,andmyfatherhadfinallyrelentedandletmecomehomefora
visit,onceIwasn’tacompletefailure.Mybrothershadmybackalltheseyears,sendingmemoneywhen
I was broke, keeping me off the streets. Ivy League schools hadn't made them assholes, thank fuck. My
familyhadfalleninline,andI’dstillfeltempty.

NothinggotCrystaloutofmyhead.Andayearago,I’djuststopped.Nomorebooze.Nodrugs.No

women. I worked. I ate. I slept. The whole band had shifted this last year. It was like we all reached
criticalmassandjustgrewthefuckupovernight.

WhenIsawCrystalgivingthatTVinterview,somethinginsidemehadshifted.AndwhenInoticedthe

three-caratdiamondwasnolongeronherfinger,Ihadbecomeobsessed.Obsessedwithwhatshe'dmade
ofherself.Obsessedwithseeingher.Talkingtoher.Touchingher.

Gettingherback,inmylife,inmyarms,inmybed.
Rockhard,Isqueezedherassandliftedheroffherfeet,shovingherbackintothewallhardenoughto

make the framed photos shake and rattle in place. Her soft moan drove me on and I shifted, pushed the
hardridgeofmycocktotheveebetweenherlegs,rubbedupanddownasIplunderedhermouth.

Notonesinglethinghadfeltthisgood,notintenfuckingyears.
Bang!Bang!Bang!
Crystal gasped and tore her mouth from mine to look over my shoulder at the door. Reese’s voice

camethroughclearasabell.“Yo!Comeonman!Whatareyoudoinginthere?Jerkingyourmeat?We’re
oninfive.Let’sgo!”

Bang!Bang!
The last two blasts of sound from Reese’s fist hitting the door made Crystal jerk in my arms and I

knewthemomentwasover.Iwasacoward.Afuckingcoward.Icouldn’tdoit,couldn’tlookdowninto
thoseexpressiveblueeyesandseehate,orregret.Orpain.

Closing my eyes, I rested my forehead against hers and relocated both of my hands to the relative

safetyatherwaist.“Ihavetogo.”

“Iknow.”
“Don’tgoanywhere,kitten.Promiseme.”Ikissedheragain,once,hardandfast.“Stay.Ineedtotalk

toyou.”

“Isthiswhatyoucalltalking?”HervoicewashedovermeandIabsorbedthemoment,thefeelofher

inmyarms,ofherlegswrappedaroundmywaist,hertasteonmylips.ButIknewthiswoman,knewher
betterthananyoneelseeverwould.Shewastoodamnsmartforherowngood.I’dmanagedtoshutoff
that phenomenal mind of hers for a few minutes. But as soon as her body cooled, she’d be right back
whereshestarted.

Hatingme.
“We'lltalk,thenwe'lldomoreofthis.Waitforme.”
Icouldn'tstandthereandhearhersayno.Hell,Iwasabouttogoonstageinfrontofeightthousand

people. If she turned me down, I'd be worthless out there. So I kissed her forehead, then stepped back.
Away.Knowingshemightbegonewhentheconcertwasover.

”Waitforme.”

RYSTAL

HAD

five minutes to pull myself together after Kit walked out. It had been just enough to catch my

breath,adjustmybra,fixmylipglossandmakesuremyhairdidn'thavethealmost-fuckedlooktoit.

God, Kit had just pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. No, he'd almost-fucked me. If his

bandmate hadn't pounded on the door, there was no doubt Kit would have banged me. I'd have let him,
too.Thechemistrybetweenushadalwaysbeenoffthechartsandaftertenyears,ithadn'tdiminished.

With his uniform of low slung jeans, his tight-fitting t-shirt, dark boots, he was gorgeous. Rock star

gorgeous.Butthatwaswhathewantedeveryonetosee.Isawthelookinhisdarkeyes,theintensity,the
need. The rasp of his voice, the way he'd called me kitten again. He hadn't wanted any woman, he'd
wantedme.

I'dhadmylegsaroundhiswaistlikeamonkeyclimbingatree.Whatthehellwaswrongwithme?

He'd cheated on me once. He'd do it again. Kit Kaswell was a player. The king of players. Hell, he'd
written the playbook for players. I was just another notch. Getting the nerdy virgin in high school then
baggingheragainadecadelater.Ishouldhavewalkedaway.Gonetothehotelandhadthatglassofwine
andpeaceandquietI'dlongedforbeforeKithadreappeared.Now,IwantedthehotelandKit.Naked.

“I'mtooexcitedtogetthedetailsofyourrelationshipwiththefuckingleadsingerofthehottestband.

Fornow.”Tiadraggedmedownthehallassometechguywithabigheadsetledusbackstage.Hetoldus
to stand in the wing and he pointed to the stage. Not that we could have missed seeing the band. The
crowdwasyelling,applauding,whistling.Screaming.ReeseKeelandwastalking,sayingsomething,butI
wasn'tpayinghimanyattention.IwasoglingKit.

Hisheadwasdownashetunedhisguitar,adjustedthestraponhisshoulder.
Thedrummermovedintoplace.Iknewallofthembyname,notbecauseIwasarabidfanlikeTia,

butbecauseofalltheonlinestalkingI'ddoneaboutKit.IfeltlikeIknewthemall.Theywereallhotin
thatpheromonedripping,tattoocoveredbadboyway.ButIonlywantedKit.

Crap.Notwantedasinnow.I'dwantedhiminthepast.Asinadecadeago.
Tiagrabbedmyarmandjumpedupanddownlikeatweenatherfirstconcert.
“I see that look,” she shouted as the band hit a few notes, revving up the crowd. “This isn't just a

crush,isit?”

IkeptmyeyesonthestagewhenIshookmyhead.
“Hello,NewYork!”Thecrowdwentwild.
Reese passed the microphone to Kit, offering everyone one of his trademark grins. “We're going to

begintonightwiththesongthatstarteditall.”HeplayedthefirstfewchordsofAngelandthecrowdwent
wild.Heturnedhisheadandlookedatme,findingmeasifheknewjustwhereIwas.Myheartlurched,
thensettled.Yeah,IfeltasgiddyasVi.

“Becausethepersonwhoinspiredthesongisheretonight.”
Hisdarkgazeheldmineashebeganthesong,sangthefirstline.
“Oh.My.God!”Visquealed.“You'reAngel?”
WasI?ThesongwasaboutlosingsomeoneforeverandKitsangthewordstomeasmywholebody

tensed with pain. Tears gathered in my eyes and I turned my head to wipe them away. I didn’t need Vi
seeingthis.OrKit,forthatmatter.He’dbrokenmyheart,thrownmeaway.Andnow?

Whatthehellwasthisallabout?WhywasIevenstandingherlikeanidiot?WasItryingtokillmyself

withthis?Withlovinghimagain?BecausehewasthesameoldKit.Sexy.Intense.Mine.Deepdown,he
wouldalwaysbemine.

Kitturnedhisheadandgotintotheconcert.Sangandplayeduntilhewasglisteninginsweat,hist-

shirtclingingtohiscordedmuscles,untilhistattooswereshinyandgod,sofuckinghot.

HadhereallywrittenAngelaboutus?I'dalwaysthoughtithadbeenaboutawomandying.Thatone

ofhisbandmateshadlostsomeoneinacaraccidentorsomething.Butno.Itmadesensenow.

Hewastellingmesomething.No,hewastellingmeeverything.
I stood, rooted in place, as I watched the concert. I couldn't look away from Kit. He was good. So

damn good at being a rock star. He made it look easy, effortless. Sexy as hell. And when he said
goodnight to the crowd, he looked at me again. This time, it wasn't over a song that spoke of love and
loss, but because of something new. Something that had never gone away. Something he had to have.
Craved.Needed.Me.

As his feet ate up the distance between us, I became flustered, nervous. I adjusted my shirt, which

didn'tneedit,wipedmydamppalmsonmyjeans.Allthewhile,hewasstaringatme.

“IthinkI'mgoingtocomejustbythewayhe'slookingatyou.”
IheardVi'swords,theteasingtone,butIpaidhernoattention.IonlyhadeyesforKitasheliftedthe

guitar strap over his head and swung the instrument into his right hand. He shoved the guitar at Vi, not
even stopping to make sure she caught it. He didn't slow when he got to me, only scooped me up and
kissed me. The kiss in that office had been a warm up, a gentle introduction in comparison to this. His
tongueplundered,hismouthdevoured.Peopleswirledaroundus.ItwasloudandcrazybackstagebutI
didn'tpayitanyattention.IonlytastedKit,felthim,smelledhim.Icouldn'tbreathe.Ididn'tneedto.

Allatonce,heputmedown.Hislipswereslick,hiseyesintentandsodamndark.
“You'recomingwithme,kitten.”
Hedidn'twaitformetoanswer,onlytookmyhandinhisandtuggedmedowntheemergencysteps

andaway.Where?Ididn'tknow,butIdidn'tcare.IwaswithKit.Nothingelsemattered.

C H A P T E R 5

HAD

Crystal’s hand in mine and it was like a fucking time warp. Touching her was like magic and

suddenlyeverythingmattered.ShitIhadn’tcaredaboutinforever,likewhetherIate,orslept,orhadany
timeofffromourrelentlesstourschedule,mattered.

TimewaswhatIneeded.TimetoconvinceherthatIcouldn’tlivewithouther.Timetomakeupfor

theyearsofhurt.Ineededher,nakedinmybed,andaboutathousandhourstoworshipeveryinchofher
body,forstarters.

Dragging her out the rear security door, I nodded at the burly guard and waved down the hired car

waitingtotakethebandbacktothehotel.Weneverleftatthesametime,andthispoorbastardwouldbe
on-calluntilallofuswerewhereweweresupposedtobe.Colelikedtoflirtwiththesexygroupieslined
up to touch him and sign autographs for a couple hours. Reese was obsessed with his gear and would
neverletanyonenearhisfuckingdrums.Hetookthemapartandputthemawayhimself,everydamntime.
Tiawouldspendhoursgoingoverreceiptsandgettingreportsfromthevenueonsalesfigures.Rileyand
Sebastianwoulddrivethesoundcrewcrazytweakingfortomorrownight’sconcert.Ourlastconcerton
this tour. Forrest and Brian would put their feet up in the green room and party with some of the girls
who’dcometotheshow.Everyoneseemedtohavesomethingtodobutme.

The driver pulled up next to us and I didn’t wait for him to get out and open the door. I jumped

forwardandheldthedoorforCrystallikeafuckinggentleman,hershysmilemyreward.

Icrawledinafterherandpulledthedoorclosed,sealingusinthedarkcave.
“Backtothehotel,man.”
HisnamewasChris,orCurt,orsomething.Somethingwitha‘C’.Butreally,hewasjustonemore

anonymousfaceinalonglineofnoone.Oneweek.Onenight.Onehour.Mylifewasarevolvingdoorof
people who didn’t matter. Other than the band and Tia, I hadn’t talked to the same person more than a
couple days in a row in years. And that was pathetic. Fucking lonely. We played. We wrote music. We
workedourassesoff.

Andthen?Hoursaloneinahotelroom.Hoursonanairplaneinmyownhead,analyzingmylife.
I'dknownIneededCrystalbeforeIsawthatbillboardtoday.Ourtourwasovertomorrowandwe’d

allagreedtotakesometimeoff.Lastshow.MyplanhadbeentoflytoCalifornia,findher,droptomy
kneesandbeghertoforgiveme.

But then the universe delivered her to me. My Angel. Right here in New York, where everything

started.Andended.

“Yes,sir,Mr.Kaswell.”
“Thanks.”
Common courtesy was automatic, but I was already rolling up the privacy glass. The band was

bookedatthenicesthotelintown,andIcouldn’twaittogetCrystalinthatkingsizebed,presshersoft
bodyintothemattressandmakehersighandwhimperandsaymyname.

All.Damn.Night.
“Where are we going?” Crystal’s eyes locked on mine as the flash of streetlights streaked by,

alternatelylightingherbeautifulfaceandabandoningittoshadow.Herhandswerefoldedinherlapand
shelookedawholelotnervous.

“Thehotel.”
“Oh.”
TheprivacyscreenstoppedmovingwithafinalbumpofsoundandIliftedmyhandtocuphercheek.I

couldn’tstoplookingather.Couldn’tstopstaring.Hell,I’dneverstoppedwanting.Iranmythumbover
herfulllowerlip,wonderedifshe’dreappliedhercherrylipgloss.

“Kit,thisiscrazy.Youknowthat,right?”Hervoicewasbreathless,soft.
“No.Notcrazy,”Icountered.“Longoverdue.”
Thatmadeherblinkandturnawaytogazeoutthewindow.Pain.That’swhatpainlookedlikeonmy

kitten’sface.Anditwasmyfault.I’dhurther,badly.Yes,I’ddoneitforherowngood,rippedmyheart
out in the process. But all that was over now. She was all grown up, a successful writer. I was rich,
famous,andhadeverythingI’deverwanted.Everythingbuther.Theweightofsuccessoverlovewasnot
equal.Hell,I'dgottenthefamebutIhadn'tgottenthegirl.

“Why are you doing this? Why did you come to the book signing today?” She looked at me for the

briefestofmoments,thenaway.

“Canwetalkaboutitwhenwegettothehotel?It’sonlyafewblocks.”
“Okay.” She sighed but I didn’t want her to think too much. Once that brilliant mind of hers kicked

backintohighgear,she’dprobablypushmeoutofthefuckingcarandtellmetogotohell.

So,Ikissedher.Nottoohard,nottoocrazy.NotlikeIwasgoingtostripherclothesoffbeforewegot

tomysuite.Ikissedherbecauseshemademehappy.Becausejustbeingwithhermadethedullachein
mychestgoaway.Shemadeitallgoaway.

Wewerewrappedaroundeachotherwhenthecarpulledtoahaltatthecurb.Thedriverdidn’thave

timetogivemeawarning.Thestaffatthishotelweretopnotch,fast.Toofast.

The door opened and light from a string of bright lamps lining the front of the building flooded the

darkinteriorofthecar.Crystal’seyesflutteredopenandsheloweredherhandstoherlapagain,away
fromme.Ididn’tlikeit.

Igotout,blockingtheviewofthebellmanasIreachedinsidetohelpherontothesidewalk.Herjeans

andtopwiththeinterestingshouldercutoutshuggedeverycurve.Herlongblondhairhadcomelooseand
curledaroundhershouldersinasoft,sexywave.Justlookingathermadeeveryboneinmybodyache
withneed.

Naked.Wet.Begging.That’swhatIneededfromher.Softandsubmissiveandtakingmeinsidethat

softbody.

Assoonasshewasoutofthecar,Iwrappedmyarmaroundherwaistandhurriedinsidethehotel.

We didn’t speak as we passed the elaborate fresh flower arrangements, chandeliers and artwork. The
elevatoropenedimmediatelyandthestaffgreetedmebynamemorethanonceaswemadeourwaytomy
suite.

Fifth floor. Balcony overlooking Central Park. Walls so thick you could play a rock concert and no

one would hear a thing. The entire thing reeked of money. But Tia insisted. When we’d hit ten million
albumssoldacoupleyearsago,sherebelledandsaidifweweregoingtoliveontheroad,weweren’t

stayinginshitholehotels.

Ididn’tcarewhereIslept.Thatwasthetruth.AslongasCrystalwaswithmefromnowon.
Pulling the key out of my wallet, I opened the door for her and she walked inside without saying a

word.Thedraperieshadbeenpulledbacktoletinthecitylightsandtheviewwasspectacular.

“Wow.”
“Right?”Iputmykeycardbackinmywalletandtosseditonthesmalltablenearthedoor.Theroom

wasmorethanadequateforme,withaking-sizedbed,hugetelevision,andabathroombigenoughtopark
asmalltruck.

Iwantedher,butI’djustspenttwohoursonstagejumping,screaming,andsweatinglikeadamnpig.I

wasnotgoingtogetnakedwithmygirllikethis.Andtalkingwouldleadtokissing,andkissingwould
lead to naked. So, yeah. Shower first. “I’m going to take a quick shower, and then we’ll talk. Okay? I
reallyneedone.”Ipluckedatmyt-shirt.

Shechuckledandsomethingtightinmychestunwound,justalittle.“Iknow.”
Igrinnedandheadedforthebathroom,pullingthedoorclosedbehindme,butnotlatchingit.Ididn’t

want to shut her out, and I didn’t want a closed door between us. It was crazy, but I was afraid if she
heardthatlatchclick,she’dwakeupfromthisfantasyIwasinandshe’drun.

Stripping in record time, I was under the water as fast as humanly possible. Every minute I was in

herewasanotherminutesomethingcouldgowrong.

IfIdidn’tsmelllikeasweaty,disgustingmessIwouldhavehadhernakedandundermealready.
The soap smelled like ginger and lemons and some other frou-frou shit I would never use, but it

worked, and it was easier than packing that kind of stuff myself. I was a man on a mission, and had
everythingcleanfasterthanIwouldhavethoughtpossible.Iclosedmyeyesandwashedmyhair,sticking
myheadunderthewatertorinse.MyfacewasintheflowofhotwaterwhenIfeltherhandonmyback.

C H A P T E R 6

EYES

FLEW

openandmycockwentinstantlyhardasIturnedtofindherstandingnakedintheshower

withme.

Fuck.Me.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Sheliftedherhandtomychest,rubbinginasmallcirclethatchasedeveryfuckingthoughtfrommy

head. Nothing. There was nothing inside my skull but her. But the sight of her naked body. She stepped
closer,herblueeyescloudedwithlustandsecretsandlonging.“Isitokayifwetalklater?”

Greenlight.Go.
Hell,yeah.
Myanswerwastolowermylipstohersandpullherclose.
OurmouthsfusedandIforgottobreathe.Thiswasnotthekissofthesweetgirlwho’dgivenmeher

virginityallthoseyearsago.Thekisswashotandwet,herlipsdemandingaresponse.

My cock pulsed and swelled to the point of pain between us. Her body was hot and pliant and I

explored every inch of her that I could reach in some kind of frantic and pathetic need to relearn her
curves,reclaimmyterritory.Herskinwassoft,hercurveslusherthanIremembered.

Mine.Shewasmine.
I pushed her up against the tile wall and kissed my way down her body, stopping to worship her

breasts, suck her nipples, rub my stubble along the curve of her hip the way I knew would make her
shudder.

Droppingtomyknees,Ishovedherlegswideandusedmyhandstoopenheruptome,tomytongue.
Her fingers tightened into fists in my hair and her legs started shaking, but I wasn’t stopping, and I

wasn’tbeinggentle.

Ilookedupherbodytomeetherblurrygaze.Yeah,shewasrighttherewithme.
Therewasnotendernessinme,notrightnow.Ineededhertoscreammyname.Ineededtofeelher

pussypulseandclenchdownonmyfingersasIsuckedherclitintomymouth.Ineededtoconquer.

“Kit.”Mynamewasmorewhimperthanspokenword.
Yes.ThatwaswhatIneededtohear.
Isuckedandlicked,slidingtwofingersinsidetostrokeheroffwhileIworkedherwithmymouth,

rememberingexactlyhowshelikedit.Shecameallovermesecondslater,hersoftcriesbetterthanany

songI’deverwritten.

IfIcouldmakeasongthatsoundedlikethewomanamanlovedcominginhisarms,I’dbetherichest

manontheplanet.Icouldlistentothatshitallnight,andIwasgoingto.

HerlegsweretooweaktoholdherupwhenIreachedovertoturnoffthewater.Butherhandreached

for mine, stopped me before I could hit the handle. “No. I want you here. Just like this. Up against the
wall,justlikeweusedto.”

Fuuuuuck.
Herwordsbroughtbackthevisual.Whitmorehadtopnotchlockerroomswithshowersandneither

oneofushadeverwantedtogohome.Hertoamotherwhodranktoomuch,adadwhospentmoretime
bitchingaboutlifethanworking.MetoIvyLeagueparentsIcouldneverpleaseandthebedroomshaunted
bytwoolderbrothersIcouldneverliveupto.

We’dspentalotoftimeintheshowersafterpractice,fuckingupagainstthetile,rightnexttotherest

ofthegirls’soccerteamintheirprivateshowerstalls.

I used to play a game, catching every gasp and cry of her pleasure in my mouth so we wouldn’t be

discoveredbyherteammatesjustafewfeetaway.

Pointingtothetiledfloorjustoutsidetheshowerdoor,Isawthelittleblacksquare.Acondom.She'd

comeprepared.She'dwantedtobefuckedinhereallalong.OnceIwassureshecouldstandonherown,
Iopenedthedoorenoughtograbthecondom,ripitopenandtossthewrapperontothefloor.

“Letme,”shesaid.
Ididn'tdenyherwhenshetookitfromme.Butwhenshegrippedthebaseofmycockinherlefthand

andbegantorollthecondomdownmylength,Icouldn'tstiflethegroan.Herfistwashotandsnug;she
knewjusthowtoholdme.Thecondomwasoninrecordtimeandshearchedapalebrow.Whenherlip
quirkedup,IknewIhadtodosomethingaboutthatsass.

“Turnaround.Handsonthetile.”Myvoicewasdeep,commanding,butshejusthadtosaynoandI'd

carryhertobedandmakelovetoher,slowandsweet.Thatwasn'twhatshewantedthough,andwhenshe
didasIsaidandputherhandsonthemarble,Iranahanddownthelonglineofherback.“Stepback.
More.Goodgirl.NowbenddownsoIgetagoodlookatthatperfectass.”

Asshepositionedherself,shelookedoverhershoulderatme,watchedmelookather.
HerhipswerewiderthanIremembered,herasstheperfectheartshape.ItbeggedtobespankedandI

did just that, one playful swat. She stiffened, but bit her lip. I watched as her breasts swayed, my
handprintformedaprettypinkonherpaleskin.

“Whatwasthatfor?”
“Forbeingtoofuckinghot.”Iranafingeroverherpussy,pinkanddripping.
“Kit!”shecried,wigglingherhips.
“Whatdoyouneed,kitten?”
“You,”shewhimperedwhenIpulledmyhandaway.
Steppinguptoher,Itookholdofherhip,alignedmydickupandslidrightintoher.Onelong,fucking

perfectstroke.

“Ohgod,”shegroaned.
“Fuck,”Ihissed.Myeyesfellclosedandmyfingerstightened.“Thisfirsttime'sgoingtoberough.

ThenI'lllearneveryinchofyou.Allnightlong.”

“Yes.”
Thatwastheendoftalking.Icouldn'tdoitanymore.MybasestneedstookoverandItookherhard.

Fuck.Rut.Claim.

In.Out.Iwasn'tgentlebutshedidn'tseemtocare.Thewayshechantedmynameandpushedherass

backagainsteverythrusttoldmeshewantedit.Hard.

I'dgiveittoher.

Damn,IwishedIwasn'twearingacondom,butwehadtotalkfirst.Fucknow,talklater.Thenshe'd

bemineandIcouldgobareandmarkherwithmycum.ThathadmyballstighteningandIwassoclose.

“Come,Crys.Comeallovermycock.”
Iwasn'tsureifshecamebecauseI'dcommandeditorbecauseitwassofuckinggood.Itdidn'tmatter

because when her tight pussy began to ripple and clench around my cock I knew she was coming. I
followedherrightover,mycumpumpingoutofmeandintothecondomasshemilkeditfromme.

TherewouldbebruisesonherhipwhereIgrippedher,butIdidn'tcare.Neitherdidshe.Itwasjust

anothermarkofownership,ofgivingherexactlywhatsheneeded.

Me.
Reaching out, I turned off the water and scooped her up into my arms, carrying her out of the

bathroom.Thatwasroundone.Roundtwowouldbeinabed.

C H A P T E R 7

rystal

“I

SHOULD

JUST

LET

youfallintoyourpost-sexnapandleave,”Isaid.

I'dtakenafewminutestosavorthedoubleorgasm,butitwastimetofacereality.One:Kitwasas

goodasI'dremembered.Better.Damnit.Two:Hewasjustaone-nightstand.Nomatterwhathesaid—
andhe'dsaidhewantedtotalk—hewouldn'tchangemymindaboutleaving.Thiswasnotasleepover.
Thiswas not happily-ever-after.He'd broken myheart once. I wasn'tgoing to letthat happen again. So
thiswasjustsex.Really,reallygoodfuckingsex.

Kitlaybesidemeonhisback,armthrownoverhiseyes.Iwatchedasthecornerofhismouthtipped

up.Therestofhim?Yeah,hewasnakedandbareandhotashell.Hiscockwasstillhard.Andbig.

“Youshould.”
Hisarmdroppedandherolledontohisside.Grabbingthesheet,hepulleditupovermesomylower

halfwascovered,althoughtheglintinhiseyestoldmeitwasintentionalwhenhestoppedwellbelowmy
breasts.

“They'rebiggerthanIremember,”hesaid,hisdarkgazefocusedonthem.
“Yeah,well,lotsofthingschangeintenyears.”
Thesmileslipped.
“I'vefollowedyouinthenews,”hesaid.Hemetmyeyes,held.“I'msoproudofyou.”
Itwarmedmetohearhimsaythat.Ihadn'tgottenthosewordsfrommyparents.Afewfriends,butnot

anyonewhosevoiceheldvalue.

“Thanks.”
“Really,kitten.Youdidjustwhatyousaid.”
Iglancedaway,swallowed.Hisendearmentwasn'tmakingthiseasyforme.“Notallofit.”
Whenhedidn'tsayanything,Ilookedathim.
“Yourdreamwastogetoutofyourhouse.GotoStanford.”
“Yeah,butitwasalsotobeyourwife.”
IfI'dstabbedKitinthechestwithaknife,thelookonhisfacewouldn'thavebeenasbadasthis.He

lookedinagony.

“Youmarriedsomeoneelse.”Hisvoicewasquiet.
Yeah,Robert.God,hewasamistake.“Youweren'texactlyanavailableoption.”
Iturnedtorolloffthebed,tossonmyclothes,buthegrabbedmeaboutthewaist,spunmeback.His

touchwasgentle,butIwasn'tgoinganywhere.

“Say it.” His eyes were darker. There was anger there, but not at me. “Say it, Crys. You’ve waited

yearstoscreamatme.Goahead.”

“YousleptwithLindsayMack.Youmadeyourchoice.”
Heranahandoverhisface,sighed.“Doyourememberwhatmyparentssaidthey'ddoifItookup

music?”

His parents were rich and stuck-up, more interested in appearances than people. At least they had

beenbackthen.

“Theythreatenedtodisownyou.”
Hesmiledatthatone.“Onethingaboutthemistheydon'tlie.Theyfollowedthrough,Crystal.Iknew

theyweregoingtodoit,too.LaborDayweekend,wheneveryoneelsehadmovedintoacollegedorm,I
movedout.Nomoney.Noplacetolive.”

God,thatmusthavebeensohard.Myparentsdidn'tcareaboutmeatall,butI'dhadtheshelterafull

ridescholarship,fouryearsatStanford.Adormroom,adininghall,allofit.He'dhadnoneofthat.

Ideliberatelytookmytimelookingaroundtheroom,atthisridiculouslyexpensivehotelroomfamous

forhostingmoviestarsandPresidents.“Itlookslikeyoumadesomethingofyourself,gaveyourparents
themiddlefinger.”

Heofferedupaweaklaugh.“Yeah,Ididdothat.Ihadnothing,kitten.Iwasnothing.Andyou?You

weregoingplaces.Yourdreamswereallgoingtocometrue.Icouldn’tfuckthatup.”

I didn't like the way this conversation was turning. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. “You

werepartofmydreams,”Icountered.

Heshookhisheadagainstthepillow.“No.Iwouldhavekilledthosedreams.Everysingleone.You

hadtogotoStanford.Showeveryonehowsmart,howfuckingperfectyouare.Andyouhave.”

Ijumpedoutofbedthen,pacingtheroom,notcaringIwasnaked.Ilookeddownatthesuite'sfancy

carpet,atthewaymybarefeetsunkintothesoftstrands.Backandforth,processingwhathe'djustsaid.I
stopped.Iswearmyheartstopped.Slowly,Iturnedtofacehim.“Youdidn'tsleepwithLindsayMack.”

Thewordswerenomorethanawhisper,butheheardme.Hedidn'tdenyit.Didn'tsayIwaswrong.
“Ohmygod,Kit.Why?”
I started to cry then, remembering the moment he'd pushed me away. He'd ripped my heart out. He

hadn'tlookedlikeaguywho'dbeenindifferent.He'dtriedtolooklikeanasshole,andhe'dbeenreally
goodatit.Inmydarkesthours,I’dthoughtI’dseenahintofpaininhiseyes,oftorment,butonlyfora
second.I’dscoldedmyselfforimagininghiminpainashe'dlookedascrushedasme.Butthatlookhadn’t
beenmyimagination.Isawitagainnow.

Hewasquietforaminute.Tenyearsthetruthhadbeenhidden.Tenyearshe'dremainedsilent,letme

thinktheworstofhimwheninfacthe'ddoneitforme.

“Becauseyouhadtogo.YouweretalkingaboutturningStanforddown,stayingwithme.Icouldn'tlet

youdoit.”

Icouldbarelyseehimthroughthetears.
“But—”
“Comehere.”Hisvoicewassoft,butIheardthesteelyundertones.
Imovedtothebed,putmykneeonit.Hepulledthecoversback,settledbeneaththemandtuggedme

intohim.Thecoverswentupandovermesowewereface-to-face,socloseIcouldseethedarkflecksin
hiseyes.

“Youwouldn'thaveleftmewithoutagoodreason.Ihadtobreakyourheart,andI’msorry.Butyou

would’vestayedandIcouldn'tletyoudothat.”

“Itwasn'tforyoutodecide,”Icountered,wipingmyeyeswithmyfingers.
“Yes,itwas.Youweremine.Tolove.Toprotect,fromthoseassholesatschool,andintheend,from

yourself.Icouldn’tletyougiveupyourfutureforme.”

I shook my head, the tears falling again. God, what he'd done. My heart had been destroyed but I

understood. And he was right. I was eighteen and stupid. I was going to walk away from a full ride
scholarship at Stanford and chase him to New York? And do what? Wait tables and try to pay for
communitycollegeonmyownwhileheplayedgigs?

He’dbeenstrong,andahellofalotsmarterthanIwas,atleastaboutus.He’dlovedmeenoughtolet

mego,andIcouldonlyimaginewhathe'dfeltpushingmeaway.

“Andnow?”Iasked.
“Andnowwehaveasecondchance.Iwantyouinmylife.”
Tenyearswasalongtime.Wewerecompletelydifferentpeoplenow.Hislifewascrazyandhelived

in a fishbowl, always in the public eye. Barring this promo tour, I lived a quiet, solitary life. I kept to
myself, kept my head down and worked. Yes, I still loved him. A part of me always would, but we
weren’tjustdifferentpeople,welivedcompletelydifferentlives.AndIwasn’tthekindofwomanwho
coulddealwithgroupies,drugsandcheating.Sonotgoingthere.

“Whataboutallthosewomen?”Ioffered,tryingnottofeeljealousofallofhisencounters.
“Whatwomen?”heaskedandIfeltmyjawdrop.Whatwomen?DidhethinkIwasamoron?Ablind,

deaf,idiot?

Thatshutthetearsdown.“Whatwomen?”Iasked.“Thereareamillionphotosallovertheinternet.

Do I need to Google you? I’ve got them burned into my eyelids, you with beautiful women practically
hangingalloveryou.Lotsofwomen.”

“Jealous?”heaskedanditjustmadememad.HowwasIsupposedtoanswerthat?Jealous?Yes.For

years.Buthewasn’tmine.Kithadn’tbeenmineinareallylongtime.

Mysilenceearnedmeafrownandtheteasingtonefadedfromhisvoicecompletely.“Look,youwere

married.Settleddown.Inlove.SomeassholeputaringonyourfingerandIwasfuckingjealous.How
elsewasIsupposedtodeal?”

IthoughtofRobert.Whatwehadwasafarceofamarriage.IthoughtI'dbehappywithhim,butI'd

beenlyingtomyself.Ineverlovedhim.IneverlovedanyonebutKit.

“Wedidn'tworkout.Idivorcedhimtwoyearsago.There's…there'sbeennoonesince.”
Isawtheflareofheatinhiseyesknowingithadbeenalongtime,areally,reallylongtimesinceI'd

beenwithaman.Twoyears.Beforetonight,I’dfeltlikeIhadcobwebsinmyvagina.

“Iwon'tlie,therewerewomeninthepast.Butnoneofthemmattered,Crys.Ididn’tloveanyofthem.

Therewasonlyyou.Whenyougotmarried,Ihadtoletgo.Iwastryingtogetyououtofmysystem.”

“Andnow?”Iasked.
HerolledussoIwasonmybackandhewasloomingoverme.Hisfingersstrokedmyhairbackfrom

myface.“Now,you’remine.”

ItwaswhatI'dalwayswantedhimtosay.I'ddreamedofhimshowinguponmydoorstepandwanting

meback,tellingmehewasmakingmehis.Butithadneverhappened.Work.School.Ashittymarriage
andanevenmorepainfuldivorce.Thatkindofthingwashedtheshinyandnewoffmyinnocencelikeacid
on flowers. I knew what this was, right now. Right place, right time, lots of chemistry. But I wasn’t a
naïvelittlegirlanymore.Thiswasonenight.Justonenight.Ididn’texpecthimtogiveuphislifestyle,the
women, the touring, or the parties just for me. He was a rock star. He wasn’t my Kit anymore. He
belongedtothewholeworld.Icouldn’tcompetewiththat.Ididn’tevenwanttotry,notwhenIknewI’d
justgetmyheartbroken.

We'dbothaccomplishedourdreams,butwe’dgrownevenfartherapartintheprocess.Therewasjust

nowayIcouldseethisworkingoutinthelongterm.ButIhadhimrightnow.Tonight.Icouldtakethis
onenightandfileitawayasthebestnightofmylife.I'dthinkbackonthesex,onhishandsandhiskiss
andhiscock,andcountmyselfluckyforalong,longtime.

Whenheloweredhisheadtokissme,Ikissedhimbacklikeitwasthelasttime.No,Iwasn’tgoingto

sneak out while he was sleeping. Morning traffic, schedules, and the reality-suck would come crashing
downonourprivatepartysoonenough.Andwhenhenudgedmylegsapartwithhiskneeandslippedtwo
fingersintome,IknewwalkingawaywasgoingtobeoneofthehardestthingsIeverhadtodo.

C H A P T E R 8

rystal

WOKE

WARM

.Andcozy.InKit'sarms.Ohmygod.Lastnight.KitKaswell.

I'dstrippedoffmyclothesandclimbedintotheshowerwithhim.Iwasnevertheaggressorwhenit

cametosex.NeverhadbeenwithKit,untilnow.He'dsaidhe'dwantedashowerandIthoughtofhim
naked,waterrunningdownallthosehardmuscles.Iknewhehadtattoos,butI'dwantedtoseethem.Once
Iputmyhandonhisback,he'dtakenover.

All.Night.Long.
IwassoreinplacesI'dforgottenevengotsore.
Mybackwasagainsthisfrontwithhiscockwaspressingheavyandthickagainstmybottom.Thearm

thrownovermywaistheldmesecurelyandhispalmcuppedmybreast.Aperfectfit.

“Morning,”hesaid,hisvoicegruffanddeepwithsleep.
Hishandmoved,playingwithmybreastashisfingersgentlyworkedmynipple.Thiswasn'tthecrazy

paceofourtimeintheshower,butagentlecoaxing.Itwasworking.

“Mmm,”Imurmured.“Again?”Iaskedwhenheshiftedhiships.
“Always.”Leaningforward,henippedthespotwheremyneckmetmyshoulder.Ithadn'tbeenahot

spotformewhenwewereteenagersbutIdefinitelylikeditnow.Andheknewit.He'dknownitatthree
inthemorningwhenI'dwokenuptohisheadbetweenmylegs.Wow,anorgasmwasagreatwaytowake
up.

Butnow,nowIhadtopee.
Ishiftedoutofhisholdandslidfromthebed.Glancingovermyshoulder,Isawhimwatchingme,a

slygrinonhisface.

AsImademywaytothebathroom,Ishookmyheadathim.“Youaresobad.”
Hepushedthecoversback,grippedhiscock,thepartofhimthathadrockedmyworldthreetimeslast

night,andstrokedit.“Damnstraight.”

Ishutthedoorbehindme,leanedagainstthecoolwood.BlewoutabreathwhenIheardthephone

ring,followedbyhimcursingashespoketosomeoneonthephone.

Reallife,herewecome.
Iwasinbigtroublehere.Imovedtothemirror,sawmyself.Ilookedlikeawell-fuckedwoman.My

hairwasawildtangle,snarledandmatted.Myskinhadapinkglowtoitandmynippleswerehard.I
steppedclosertothemirror,lookeddown.Ihadalovebiteontheupperswellofmybreast.Kithadpaid
verycloseattentiontobothofthembutI'dmissedwhenhe'ddonethat.Itwouldbetherefordays.

Thesmileslippedfrommylips.Days.I'dbegone.No,he'dbegoneandyethismarkwouldlinger.I

didn'tneedtohavethelittleredsplotchtorememberourtimetogether.Iwouldn'tforgetit.Ever.JustasI
hadn'tforgottenourtimeasteenagers.

Itwasjustonenight.Ithadbeenamazing,buthewasgoingtocrawloutofthatbedandoutofmylife.

I'dhavetotakeawalkofshamebacktomyownhotel.Shit.I'dbeenthegroupiehe'dtakenbacktohis
hotelroomafteraconcertandI'dbethegroupiethatleft,walkingalittlebowlegged,inthesameclothes
asthenightbefore.Andthestaffatthishotel?Theyprobablynoticedeverything.Every.Thing.

Soembarrassing.
Kit wasn't going to give up his band and I refused to be the one to hold him back. The parties, the

women,thelifestyle.God,thishotelroom.I’dneverbeeninaroomlikethis,neverevendreamtofit.The
wholethingreekedofmoney,fromthethickdownduvettothethickcream-coloredcarpetundermybare
feet.No,thiswasn’tmylife.Itwastimetogobacktoreality.Beingarockstarwashisdream,andI’d
neverheardanyoneclaimthathavingaconservativewifewaspartoftherockstarequation.

AndIwasnotthekindofwomantosithomeandpatientlywaitwhileheleftmeformonthsatatime.

Long distance relationships were bullshit, and I knew my heart wasn’t cut out for that kind of stress. I
wouldn’tsurvivetryingtodoalongdistancethingwithKit.

WhenIleftthebathroom,Kitwassittingonthesideofthebed.
“Tiacalled.ATVstationsetasidetimeforusontheirnoonshow.Ihavetogo.”
Theachealreadybegan.Theloss.Thistime,itwasmyownfault.I'dlethiminandnowI'dhaveto

livewiththepainofnotbeingabletokeephim.

“Ihavetoshower.”Hecameuptome,strokedhisknucklesdownmycheek.Whydidhehavetobeso

damnsweet?

Icouldn'tsayanythingpastthelumpinmythroat,soIjustnodded.
“Givemetenminutes,thenI'llgetmymouthonyourpussyagain.OnemoretastebeforeIgo.”
Said pussy got wet just from his voice, the mental picture of him kneeling on the floor, his hands

grippingmybottomasheruthlesslylickedandsuckedonmyclit.

Kissingmyforehead,heturnedandwentintothebathroom.WhenIheardthewaterturnon,IknewI

hadtogo.Now.Ifhewalkedoutwithnothingbutatowelaroundhiships,allofmywillpowerwould
evaporateinaninstant.

Grabbingmyclothes,Itossedthemon,foundmypurse.Icouldn'tleavewithouttellinghimsomething.

WhileIknewIdidn’thavethecouragetotellhimtohisface—he'djustgrabmeandgetmebeneathhim
—anotewouldwork.Hecouldn’targuewithanoteonhispillow.

Ifoundahotelnotepadandpenonthedesk,scribbledoutafewlines.
There.Done.Closure.
Withonelastlookattheclosedbathroomdoor,thinkingaboutthemanwhowasmostlikelysoaping

uphisgorgeousbodyhiddenbehindit,Iwalkedoutthedoor.OutofKit'slife.Outofhisway.

COCK

WAS

FUCKING

HARD

.Again.Iwaslikeafifteenyearoldwhocouldn'tcontrolit.Hell,I'dfucked

herthreetimesandIstillwasn'tdone.IdoubtedI'deverbe.Igrippedmycock,strokeditonce,thenlet
go.No,Iwouldn'twasteitintheshower.Allmypleasure,allmycumwouldbeforher.Iwantedfillher
up,togoinherbare,tofuckherraw.Nothingbetweenus.

I groaned as my balls ached. Grabbing the soap, I got clean. Fast. Wrapping one towel around my

waist,Igrabbedanotherandrubbedmyhair.

“Leanbackonthebedandspreadthosegorgeousthighsniceandwide.Iwantpussyforbreakfast,”I

called.

When I opened the door, I expected to see a very compliant and very eager Crystal. The bed was

empty.

“Crys?”Icalled,butIalreadyknew.Shewasgone.Herclothesweren'tstrewnonthefloor.
Isawthenote.

AST

NIGHT

WAS

AMAZING

.Thankyou.Itwasreallygreattoseeyou.Ihavetogo.Signingattwo.Good

luckwiththetour.–Yours,C

“S

HIT

,”Imuttered,crumplingthepaperinmyfist.

Leaveittoafuckingwritertoleaveanote.Ishouldbeangry,pissedather.Iwasn't.Ilovedherall

the more. The way I felt right now with her gone, not knowing where she was, out there somewhere
hurting. I felt like I'd been eviscerated with a fucking butter knife. I could only imagine what she felt,
walking away from me, from us. Again. This time with no lies between us. She knew I loved her. She
knewI’dwalkedawayforher,andshe’dagreedthatitwastherightchoiceforbothofus.

ButasIstaredattheemptybed,IrealizedI’dmadeahugefuckingmistake.Colossal.Ionlytalked

aboutthepast.

Ilovedhernow,andIhadn’ttoldher.I’dbeensobusydrowninginherthatIhadn’tsaidthewords.I

kissedher,andIfuckedher,andIforgottotellherwhatIwanted.

Her.Forever.Agoldringonherfingerandherinmybedeverynightfortherestofmylife.
Fuck this. I wasn't letting her get away. My band? Yeah, they'd been my life, but they could fucking

deal.Crystalwasmylifenow.Alwayshadbeen,butI'dputmymusicfirstforlongenough.Ihadmoney.
Fame. I could take care of her now. It was time to put her first. It was time to live. Really live. And I
couldn’t do that without her. I had to show her we could make this work. Following our dreams and
having each other weren't mutually exclusive anymore. We weren't eighteen any longer. We weren't
starvingartists,oratthemercyofourmiserableparents.

Wecouldbewhateverwewanted.Wecoulddowhateverwewanted.Together.
Droppingthetowel,IwentovertomyphoneandcalledtheonepersonIknewcouldhelpmefigure

thisout.

“Tia,Ineedyourhelp.”

C H A P T E R 9

rystal

’

HAND

waslikeavicearoundmywristbutIcouldn’tworkuptheenergytopullaway.Asenseofdéjà

vufloodedmeaswewalkedintothecrowdedarena.Thousandsofpeoplewerefloodingthevenuelikea
riveroffacesmovinginaconstantstreamaroundme.Uptheescalators.Down.Movinginsolidstreams
throughthecorridors,everyoneexcitedandsmiling,laughingandhappilystandinginlinetopaywaytoo
muchforat-shirtwithNightbird’salbumcoverplasteredonthefrontandalistoftourcitiesontheback.
OrKit’sface.

Thatface.Ithurttoseeitonpostersallaround.
Everyonewantedapieceofhim.
“Whatarewedoinghere?Yousaidweweregoingoutwithsomeofyourfriendsinthecity.”We’d

madetheseplanstwoweeksago.ThiswasVi’stown,andshe’dsquealedwhenshesawthethree-dayend
ofthepublicitytour.Iwasexhausted,mentallyatleast.AndthemoreItriedtoforgetthelasttwenty-four
hours,themoremybodyrebelled.IcouldstillrememberKitinsideme,kissingme,makingmefeel.

“Trustme.”VituggedandIstumbledforwardintothemasses,tryingtoblendin.Vihadinsistedwe

dressuptonight.Nojeans.I’dbeenexpectingadanceclubwithloudmusic,lotsofalcoholandnopainful
memoriesanddressedaccordingly.Atightblackminiskirthuggedeverycurve.Myheelsweretoohigh,
theblackstrapscrisscrossedovermyankleinasexytwistthatmademefeellikeIwasn’tatotalloss.My
hairwasdownandI’dtakenmytimewithmymakeup,thearmorIneededtohidemycurrentmiseryfrom
therestoftheworld.

AlittlewineanddancingandmaybeI'dforgetKit.Buthere?Itwasn'tgoingtohappen.Imightfeel

likeshit,butatleastIlookedgood.

Ishookmyheadandletherpullmealongbehindher.Ibreathedasighofreliefwhenwepassedthe

security guard who admitted us into the backstage area last night. I did not need a repeat of the Kit
Kaswellshow.Themanwasburnedintomysoulalready.

Ididn’tknowwhatViwasupto,butIdidn’tcaremuch.I’dbeenwalkingaroundinafogsinceIleft

Kitthismorning.So,yes,Ididn’tseeafutureforus.Butthatdidn’tmeanthatfactdidn’thurt.

AloudboomingrocksongstartedinthemainarenaandVijumped,thenwalkedtwiceasfast.“Come

on!We’regoingtomissit.”

“Misswhat?Vi,Iknowyoulikethisband,butoneconcertwasenough.”
WouldIbeabletoheartheirsongsontheradiowithoutgettingupset?
IwassonotuptoseeNightbirdagain.Ishouldhavetoldheraboutthenightbefore,abouthowI'd

walkedawayfromKit.Weweren'tacouple.Weweren'tanything.ButifIexplained,I'dstarttocryand
I'dcriedenoughoverwhatcould'vebeenwithhim.

“You’llsee.”ShegrinnedandIyankedbackwardtofreemyhandasKit’sbandmanager,Tia,came

into view. She was wearing pants and blouse that made her like more like the CEO of a bank than the
managerofarockband.But,whatever.Shewastiny,buttoughasnailsandIrespectedthat.

“Vi.Crystal.Aboutdamntime.You’relate.”
Late?
Vishrugged.“Sorry.Itried.”
Tia looked me up and down, gave an approving nod, and used a security keycard to open the door

directlybehindher.Ilookedpasthertoseeanemptyhallwaylinedwithdoors.“What’sgoingon?Vi,I
swear,ifyou'redoingsomeweirdpublicitystunt,I'mgoingtokillyou.”

Tia lifted her hands and scooted around behind us, ushering us through the door like a dog herding

sheep. I felt like I was being handled, but I didn’t know what to do about it. And, in all honesty, deep
down,mycuriositywasatanalltimehigh.“Go.Go.Go.”

VisteppedintothecorridorandIfollowedher.Themusicwasloudhere,too,butoddlymuffled,the

bassbeatthumpingthroughthewallsandceiling,muffledenoughthatIcouldn’tmakeoutwhichsongthe
bandwasplaying.

“Right. To the right.” Tia followed us and closed the door behind her, double-checked that it was

locked, and lifted her chin to nod at a giant of a security guard I hadn’t noticed before. He stepped
forwardtostandinfrontofthedoorlikewewereprisonershereinsteadofguests.

Tia took off down the corridor, our heels a staccato burst of sound on the hard floor as Vi and I

followedher.

“Vi,”Icomplained.“Look,let'sjustgotoabarorsomething.”Andforget…everything.
Sheignoredme.Damnher.
It felt like we walked forever, the curved corridor stretching on in an endless loop, the end always

justoutofsightaroundthebend.

Tia walked to another closed door and used the electronic key on the security pad. When the door

swung open, two large men stood on the other side. Tia greeted them and then turned, pointing in my
direction.“Gentleman,thisisCrystal.Canyoupleaseescorthertoherplace?”

OneofthemenheldouthisarmtoindicateIshouldwalkwithhim.Whatthehellwasallthisabout?
WithonelastglanceatVi,whoseface,foronce,gaveawaynothing,Ifollowedthemandownthehall.

Vi and Tia both fell into step behind me. With every step, the volume of the music increased to near
painfullevels.

Three more steps and we rounded a corner. The man opened a small door and nodded as I walked

pasthim…ontothestage.

Holy.Shit.
With one gentle yet solid push, I stumbled out far enough that the entire audience could see me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the door close behind me. I was alone. Well, as alone as I could be
standingjuststepsfromKitwithafewthousandfansscreamingatthestage.

God,helookedgoodwearinghisusualrockeruniformofwornjeansandblackt-shirt.
ThegiantscreenbehindthebandflickeredandchangedasKitsignaledthebandtostopplaying.The

twistingpsychedeliccolorsfadedandallatonceIsawmyselfonthatscreen.Me.Abouttwentyfeettall.

Kit held up his hand and the crowd quieted, waiting expectantly. Like they were in on a great big

secretandcollectivelyholdingtheirbreath.

Kit’s grin made my heart skip a beat but he didn’t look at me as he addressed the crowd. “You all

rememberthatstoryItoldyouafewminutesago?”

Screamsrippedthroughthearenaandmyhandsclenchedandunclenchedatmysides.Whatstory?

Voicesshoutedrandomlyfromthecrowd.
Marryhim!
Luckybitch!
Ifyoudon’twanthim,I’lltakehim!
Don’tdoit,Kit!Iloveyou!
BeforeIcouldprocess,thebandstartedplayingoursongsoftly,morelikebackgroundmusicthana

performance.Oursong.Thesongwe’dbeenlisteningtothefirsttimewemadelove.Thesongheusedto
singtomewhenIwaslyingnakedinhisarms.ThesongthatstillbrokemyhearteverytimeIhearditon
theradio.Howdidtheyknow?Oh,god,Kithadtoldthem.Theyknew.No,theywereinonthis.

Oh. My. God. What was he doing? I began to tremble. Kit loved to be on stage, showing off to

thousandsoffans.Ididn't.Ihatedthespotlight.

Kitwalkedoveranddroppedtoonekneeatmyfeet.Mymouthfellopen.
“Crystal,Iknowyou’rescared.Iknowthisiscrazy,butIloveyou.Idon’twanttoliveanotherday

withoutyou.Ican’t.”

Thescreamingescalatedinthecrowd,encouragingmetodoeverythingfromkisshimtokickhimin

theballs.Some,beggedhimnottodoit.Itwascrazy.Thismomentwascrazy.

Looking down into Kit’s upturned face, my gaze found his and everything else faded. This was him

andme.Us.AndIsaweverythinginhiseyes.Love.Devotion.Desperation.Need.

“Theband?Itmightbemydream,butyou'remylife.Please,justsayyes.”Hesaidthatsoftlysothe

microphone didn't pick it up. Just for me. “We don't have to choose. We can figure this out. Give me a
chance.Wecanhaveitall.Together.”

The ring sparkled with an internal fire as Kit slid it onto my finger. I looked from the ring to him,

realizedIhadn’tansweredhimyet.I'dthoughtithadtobeoneortheother.Ourdreamsorourlove.He
was right. We could have both. I could have both. I was a writer. I could write from anywhere. And
whereIwantedtobewaswithhim.

“Crys?Iloveyou.I’vealwayslovedyou.Please,marryme.”Thebandstoppedplayingandthelights

faded until everything was dark but a spotlight shining on us like we were the only two people in the
world.

Heat streaked down my cheeks and I realized I was crying. Everything ached inside me, the pain

fierceandpowerfulandsodamngood.Inodded,butheldupmyhand.“AslongasIneverhavetobeon
stageagain.”

Hegrinnedthen,andhewasbeautiful.Hehadeverythinghe'dwanted,justasIdid.Ittooktenyears,

butitwastimeforustohaveeverythingourheartsdesired.We'dworkedhardforit.Earnedit.Deserved
it.

“Deal.Wife.”
Ileanedovertokisshim,needingtoshareeverythingIwasfeelingwithhim,withthewholeworld

watching.Suddenly,Ididn’tcare.Letthemwatch.Hewasmine.

Thecrowdwentcrazy,butItunedthemout.AllIcaredaboutwasthemanwholeapttohisfeetand

wrappedhisarmsaroundme.HislipscrasheddownonmineagainandIwasconsumedbyhim,bythis
lovethatexplodedlikeabombinsidemychest,rippingmetoshreds.

Ihadnodefenseagainsthim.Ineverhad.

E P I L O G U E

womonthslater…

RYSTAL

ONDON

.Amsterdam.Berlin,lastweek.

IsighedandcurleduponthecouchinKit’sdressingroomonthelowerfloorsofthebigstadium.We

were in London for the third concert. We’d already visited all the tourist traps. He’d bent me over the
couchinourhotelroomlastnightandblownmymind,allthewhiletalkingdirtyinaBritishaccentthat
drovemewild.Hehadaknackforadaptinghisvoicetowhereverwehappenedtobe.Iteasedhimthat
heshouldhavebeensomekindofCIAlanguageexpertorspyinsteadofarockstar.Tomorrow,wewere
flyingtoDublin.Irishwhiskey,greeneverywhereandKitpromisingtogetmenakedandtalktomewitha
sexyIrishaccent.

Thatmightbeinteresting.
TheloudbassbeatoftheconcertspeakersthrummedthroughthefloorandthewallsandItappedmy

footwithasmile,knowingmymanwasdoinghisthing.Sharinghispassionwiththeworld.

Laptopopen,Ityped.Soclosetofinished.AfewmorepagesandI’dbedone,readytosendthisbaby

intomyeditorandtakeabreak.

Kit was ready for a break, too. Eight weeks on tour. I’d seen some amazing places, loved every

minute.ButallIreallywantedwasKit,awarmbed,andlazydayswithnowheretogoandnothingtodo.
He agreed, forcing Tia to space out the dates for recording the next album. Because of me—or our
newfoundlove—thewholebandhaddecidedtoslowdown.They'dbeenchasingtheirdreamforsolong,
they'dmissedthefactthattheyhadit.Itwastimetolivealittle,too.

Especiallynow.EspeciallyformeandKit.Igotthegoaheadfrommydoctoditchthecondoms.I’d

beenonthepilllongenoughtobesafefrompregnancy.IcouldfinallygiveKitwhathewanted,me,with
nothingbetweenus.Thenexttimehetookme,therewouldbenolatexbetweenus.Nothingbutskinon
skin.Hesaidhewantedtofillmewithhiscum,markme.Thosedirtywordsjustmademehotandeager
forhim.

Iwasgoingtowaittwoweeksuntilwe’dbeonabeachsayingourweddingvows,forourwedding

night.Yeah,right.IwantedKitinmebarejustasmuch.Iachedtoknowwewereskintoskin.AndKit
wouldbemineforever.

Itappedthevolumeonmyheadphonesandturnedthemup,drowningouttheconcertsoIcouldfocus.

Thisbookdeadlinewasnotgoingtoruinourwedding,orthetwoweeksweweregoingtolayaroundon
thebeachfuckinglikebunniesonourhoneymoon.

An hour later, I slipped my laptop back into its bag, done. The great thing about this job, being a

writer,wasIcouldliterallydoitanywhereintheworldaslongasIhadinternet.Whichmeant,Icould
travelwiththebandandstillmakealiving,stilldowhatIloved.Neitherofushadtogiveupourdreams
to be together. Vi had been thrilled for me to work and be with Kit. Hell, she just wanted permanent
accesstoherfavoritebandandthehottestguys—besidesKit.

Thedooropenedandtherehewas.
Arockgod.
Myrockgod.
“Hi.”
I leaned back on the couch and smiled as I spread my legs in blatant invitation. I’d just spent two

hourswritingoneofthehottestsexscenesever.Waitingforhim.“Hi.”

TheskintighttubedressIworewaslikeasecondskinandIwasbarebeneath,justasheliked.Itwas

blue,theexactsamecolorofmyeyes,andI’dbeensavingtheoutfitfortonight,ourlastnightinLondon,
justtoblowhismind.

Heclosedthedoorbehindhimandflippedthelock,thesoundmakingmeshiverwithanticipation.He

hadnointerestintheafterparties,thegroupies,eventherestoftheband.Whentheconcertwasover,he
onlywantedme.

“Didyoujustflashmewithnakedpussy?”
“Yes.”Iraisedabrowanddiditagain.“Whatareyougoingtodoaboutit?”
Hestalkedtome,neverbreakingeyecontact.Bythetimehekneltinfrontofme,hisbighandsrunning

upanddownmythighs,Icouldbarelybreathe.ThismomentwaswhatI’dbeenwaitingforallday.When
theworkwasdoneanditwasjustus.Likethis.

Uponhisknees,heleanedforwardandkissedmeasheusedhishandstopushthestretchymaterialof

myskirtupovermythighs.Iwasnakedfromthewaistdown,shoeson,topinplace,hairandmake-up
perfect.ThecoolairhittingmywetcoremademefeelnaughtyandIlovedit.LovedthewayKitcouldn’t
keephishandsoffme.

He kissed me like I was his air and I melted into him, ready to give him anything he wanted, be

anything he needed me to be. Kit nibbled his way down the side of my neck and wedged his shoulders
betweenmyopenthighs.“Whatdoyouwantmetodoaboutit?”

Ilaughedandliftedmyheelstothebacksofhisthighs,lockingmylegsaroundhim.“Rockmyworld.”
Hegroanedandloweredhishead,findingmynipplethroughthefabricofmydress.Hedidn’twaste

time.Inonestrongmove,hepulledmyhipsforwardtotheedgeofthecouchandclaimedmypussywith
hismouth.Heownedme,twofingersslidinginsidetofillmeupashismouthworkedmyclit.

Iexplodedinrecordtime,hisnamestillonmylipsashedroppedhispantsandpulledouthisthick,

hardcock.HereachedforacondomandIstoppedhim.“Don’tneedthat.”

“What?”HisgazeliftedtomineandIsawrawlust,need,confusion.Hisdickwasinchargeofhis

brainrightnow,soIspelleditoutforhim.

“Italkedtothenursetoday.Shesayswe’regood.It’sbeenlongenoughformetobecovered.”
Kittossedthesmallfoilpackettothesideandsurgedforward,kissingmehardashiscocksliddeep

inoneroughthrust.

He shuddered, his reaction making me feel powerful and feminine, and like I’d just conquered the

world.

“God,Crystal.I'veneverbeenbarebefore.Withanyone.Sogood.Sofuckinggood.”
Theslideofskinonskinwasamazingandsointimate.Therewasnothingbetweenus.Nothing.And

thereneverwouldbe.Neveragain.