“Time to go,” Phil, their tour manager called out.

  There was something about the moment in between things that had always held a fascination for Harlow. And at that moment as they walked toward the stairs leading up to the stage, with the sound of the crowd just a few feet away, the stickysweetness of weed, kettle corn and beer hung in the air, it felt like a rock and roll fairytale.

  Nausea, always present before she walked out onto any stage, was a metallic weight in her gut that Harlow swallowed past, breathing through her nose and out through her mouth. It would pass as the adrenaline and dopamine took over and she let herself just experience the utter surreality of what was happening.

  At the base of the steps, they turned toward one another, touching foreheads and then they broke, Nora going up first, then Brian, their music calling her. And at the top of the steps, she turned and caught sight of Miles as he rounded a corner.

  They’d had a fun drive from Salt Lake City and then had lunch together with everyone when they’d arrived. Things had subtly shifted from even the day before and there was a rhythm between Miles and Harlow that felt very much like a relationship.

  He smiled when he saw her, so open and pleased. She gave him the devil horns and turned, taking her guitar as she stepped into the spotlight and began to sing.

  He tipped his chin at her as they came offstage and then took up at her side. “You all sounded fantastic,” he told them and meant it. Holy fuck, Harlow was just so utterly herself, confident, aggressive, every time she flirted and charmed and snarled her way across a stage had blown his mind.

  Never in his life had he wanted to kiss someone more than he did right then. Obviously that wasn’t going to happen as they were in a crowded hallway, but he’d definitely take that jangled, anxious uncertainty and use it on stage when they went on.

  It felt good to be in that place with her. Sweet and sexy as hell.

  “Afterparty tonight. You’ll be there, right?” he asked.

  “Yes, definitely. Thanks for the invite.”

  Nora and Brian headed straight into their dressing room, but Miles hung back in the hall with Harlow. He needed to get moving soon. Earthquakes would be starting their set within the hour.

  But he wanted a little more time with her first. “I want you to save me some attention and time at the party tonight,” he said softly.

  “It’s not hard to give you attention, Miles.” Her mouth curved up into a smile.

  “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll be sure to be worthy of that opinion,” he told her.

  Someone called his name a few times and he leaned close enough to be awash in her body heat but not close enough to kiss. “Gotta go.”

  “Break a leg,” she told him. “See you out there.”

  The kisses in his room the night before had fully awakened something within him. An awareness of the depth of his greed for her and an acceptance of that.

  He may as well enjoy it and fold it into his music.

  After two encores he and the others stumbled off stage and down the stairs. Sweaty, amped up with adrenaline and that sexual charge he only found right after a performance, he looked around the area but didn’t see Harlow anywhere though he had watched her on and off all show long out in the audience.

  “They went back to the hotel to clean up,” Poppy told him as she caught up. “I’ve got the van already waiting so once you and the others are ready, we’ll go.”

  He gave her a questioning look.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Thanks,” he told her.

  “I said I’d be useful on this tour, and I think we can agree I’ve already been that and more.”

  “You’re right. You’re doing a great job.” He slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side as she tried to push him away.

  “You’re sweaty and gross! Ew.”

  “Felt good out there tonight.”

  He nodded at the people who’d found ways to line the hall leading to their dressing rooms. Most he recognized as crew but there were others there, he knew searching for a good time to be had with a famous person.

  He wanted a good time too. So he’d get himself cleaned up and head over to the bar they were holding their afterparty at and find a way to get himself alone with Harlow.

  At the party things were already in full swing and he was swallowed up by well-wishers, a drink put in his hand and refreshed each time he emptied it.

  Music—thankfully not theirs because it would have felt masturbatory—pumped out of speakers. Local musicians filled the room, and he didn’t fail to notice the way Harlow always seemed to be surrounded by people trying to get her attention.

  But this was part of the business and Above Me could use all the connections they could get. Those connections were what often helped a band get to the next level. It didn’t hurt that she was tall, drop dead beautiful, and projected a confidence nearly as sexy as the rest of her. But she was charming too. Had an ease with people.

  He liked the way Brian and Nora stood with her, each contributing to the whole. Harlow wasn’t going to be the type who’d abandon them if she got a better opportunity, and the comfort they had with one another was a sign they all knew it. And wanted onlookers to know it too.

  She tipped her head back, laughing and Miles felt the tug in his gut at the sight.

  “Easy there,” Maddie said quietly. “The whole room is going to see the way you look at her.”

  Poppy snorted.

  He shrugged. “Not a problem. Who’d be embarrassed to look at her this way?”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “It’s cute that you conveniently forget she’s got to prove she’s more than the pretty face and the famous dad. For someone who has the same struggles, that’s sort of ridiculous coming from you.”

  Oh. Yeah.

  Miles sighed. “Okay, you have a point. But I don’t want to hide it like she’s a secret or something to be embarrassed about.”

  “Fair. And I’d have thrown my drink in your face if you were embarrassed because she’s, well, she’s above your weight class.”

  That made him laugh. “I thought you were wary about me starting anything with her while on tour.”

  “You’re an artist, she’s an artist. Lots of passion between and around you. I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt. This business can be hard on your heart. That’s all,” Maddie told him.

  “If this is about Sophie, I already told you, this is different,” he said of his ex.

  “Well sure. Anyone who knows you understands that. I was there during the whole thing, remember. I said today that you were acting reckless, but with Sophie you weren’t reckless. You were out of control.”

  That was actually a really good distinction.

  Maddie continued as they both watched the room, “The crash with you and whatserface was inevitable. And it was also inevitable she was going to blow it out of proportion and use it to build her own social media base. She never lied about what she was.”

  “I hate that none of you told me how you felt about her,” Miles said.

  “Fuck off, Miles. I could have told you in detail and you’d have continued to put your dick in her and do too many drugs and drink yourself into a stupor. It’s the path you chose for a while. Put it on like a coat until you realized it didn’t fit. My dad was the same. Lots of pretty boy musicians are. You grew up.”

  Maddie’s father, Vaughan Hurley, had been quite the pretty boy rockstar in his day and had ended up divorced and alone for several years until he’d finally gotten over himself and put in the work to win his family back.

  And Miles’s father, too, had been one of those pretty boy rockstars, though he’d generally been able to keep himself under control with the help of Miles’s aunt Erin and his uncle Brody. The Browns were tight. United. But they wouldn’t hesitate to call one another out.

  Maddie said, “So we waited until the thing between you and whatsherface burned down and were there when you needed us to kick your butt into shape. Harlow is a different thing entirely. She’s a real deal, could be the one type of person. You gotta earn that. Get to know her. Learn her, and won’t it be wonderful if it works out past the tour and you two end up together? Try not to forget that people like to take pictures of you because you’re Miles Brown, rock and roll royalty. And Harlow Martin is a similar version of that. The two of you together will sell laundry detergent and pizza pockets for any gossip site. But she’s going to get twice the scrutiny you do because that’s how it goes when you’re a woman in this industry so don’t make being with you harder than being without you is.”

  She was really smart. “Thanks for saying stuff even when it’s not comfortable and I take it wrong.”

  “That’s what family does. Like right now I see Omar flirting really hard with that dude near the dessert table. He’s married and I doubt O knows it or he wouldn’t be flirting. So, I’m just going to cruise over to say hello. Do the same to Harlow, why don’t you?”

  He hugged her to his side, kissing the top of her head. “Okay. Night, Maddie.”

  She headed toward Omar and he shifted his attention back to where she’d been standing but she wasn’t there any longer and neither were Nora and Brian.

  Miles tried to look nonchalant as he scanned the room but didn’t find her. He texted asking if she was still at the party.

  I’m about to leave. Nora and Brian are walking me to the car. I’ll see you tomorrow. You were great tonight.

  He texted one word as he headed out the back door. Wait.

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  “I have to have you,” he mumbled while dropping hot kisses to her cheek, temple and down her neck.

  Harlow made an inarticulate sound, a moan, an entreaty for more, agreement that she wanted him to have her as well. There weren’t words for it all and they didn’t need them anyway.

  Their hands said it. His mouth on her skin said it. The way he hesitated here and there to give her a chance to stop, to be sure she was still with him was searingly hot. The whole thing between them felt so out of control, all action driven by desire and an intense need to connect. But each time he hesitated she knew it took his control. He did it on purpose because it mattered to him that she was there, pinned against the wall by his body, as enthusiastically as he was.

  At her back, he managed, one handed, to get the keycard pressed to the right part of the door and it opened, sending them tumbling into the foyer. He saved them from crashing to the marble floor and spun her, still holding her waist, his mouth finding hers.

  Stealing her breath.

  She grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it up, only breaking the kiss when she had to get it over his head.

  Even wanting him so much her pulse beat in her eardrums wasn’t enough to forego the slow examination of his upper body. Wide shoulders she already knew about. But all the ink she’d uncovered was striking and sexy.

  A long lick over the head of the dragon coiled up over his chest made them both gasp. Black and gray in what appeared to be a Celtic design. She’d ask about the ink later when the blood flow was back to her brain instead of her nipples and clit.

  He hadn’t done anything to the hair on his chest—her last lover had his waxed regularly—or the line leading from his belly button down into the waist of his jeans. She traced a circle around his navel and then followed that downy soft arrow south to the waistband and stopped. Teasing. Delighting in the intake of breath in response.

  “Now you,” he said, flicking open the top two buttons of her blouse.

  “God yes, now me,” she echoed with a solemn nod.

  He laughed and bent his head to lick over the curve of breast swelled above the line of her bra and it was her turn to suck in a breath at the heat of it.

  “So glad I wore the pretty bra for the party instead of the grungy super comfortable one,” she said as he artfully and quickly popped the last three buttons and the material slid to her sides, exposing her upper body.

  “Better than I imagined.” He traced over the visible lines of the clematis tattoo from her side leaving goosepimples in his wake. “You’ll tell me about this. After.”

  “After.”

  He indicated she stay where she was while he put the do not disturb hanger on the door and locked everything up tight. “I’d go to jail if someone came in to disturb us and I had to punch them for it.”

  Miles stalked back toward her, the pale light from a single lamp in the main living area drew him in shadows and angles as she held her breath, watching.

  One corner of his mouth slid up very slowly and she couldn’t wait to find out if he had that sort of muscle discipline with other things he did with his mouth.

  She had to squeeze her thighs together to ease the ache.

  “You okay?” he asked her, drawing her close.

  Beyond words she nodded and to underline it, she dragged the edge of her nails up his sides, over his ribs until he groaned.

  Miles wasn’t entirely sure anything in his life had ever felt so intense. In his arms she was a barely leashed fire. The heat of her skin seemed to blast over his body. Her scent, the shampoo she used, he thought, the earthy perfume she wore, and the spice of her desire rose and tightened all around him, pulling him in and snagging all his focus.

  He glanced at the couch in the living room. Just that afternoon he’d caught sight of the arm and wondered if it would be a good height to bend her over and take her from behind.

  But what he craved right then was to spread her out over the bed and touch every part of her. Explore what made her toes curl.

  “Are you thirsty?” he asked as he stepped far enough to take her hand and pull her toward the adjoining bedroom.

  “That’s the most random question,” she said, following along.

  “I don’t want you to get dehydrated. I need you to keep your strength up.”

  “Well. Put that way. I should drink something.”

  She looked around the room when he let go of her hand and moved to the mini fridge to get some water for her, and by the time he’d turned around, her shirt was off and her hands were at the buttons of her pants. “Multi-tasking,” she said and made him snort.

  “Whatever you want to call it, I’m game.” He handed her a glass of water and she drank it down in several deep gulps before handing it back.

  “Are you thirsty? Because I’m about to wring you dry.”

  Surprised delight hit him, snagged between amusement and desire. But he drank water because he hoped she was serious.

  And as he did, she shimmied from her pants, exposing more skin and ink.

  “You’re going to need to catch up or I’ll be forced to have fun all alone,” she said.

  He was out of his jeans and boxers in record time, and he really dug that they both laughed as they went. He liked it even more that she turned another lamp on as she munched the chocolate she’d stolen off his pillow.

  The long line of her throat called to him, and he gave in, drawing his mouth and fingertips over the delicate skin there. All while he petted down her shoulder, to her elbow which he held to steer her back to the bed.

  When she tipped back and fell to the mattress, he stole long moments to simply take her in. Long, strong legs, bright blue toenails that matched her fingernails. And when he slid her boyshort style underpants down she made a sound that shot straight up his spine.

  Her bra was one of the ones that closed in the front. He liked that. Liked even more that the little clasp was a heart. Her tits, freed of the bra were so pretty. He didn’t have a favorite kind of breast. He liked them all. But hers were a pair he’d be happy to be able to see as often as he could.

  “Pierced,” he said softly as he reached out and gave the pretty bar running through her right nipple a twist to one side and then the other.

  That worked given the arch of her back and the gasp of pleasure it evoked.

  When she lifted herself enough to grab his cock at the root and slid her fist up and over the head. “Pierced.”

  He grinned. “Glad you like.”

  “Well, I mean.” She squeezed gently for emphasis. “You’ve got the raw material to get the job done. The Prince Albert is just a delightful surprise. I’ve never checked out that particular dick from the library before.”

  How he could snort laugh while being ridiculously turned on he didn’t know. But he dug it.

  “I hope it’ll be your favorite dick ever,” he teased, but he meant it too.

  “We’ll have to take it for a test drive just to see.”

  He knelt over her body because he needed to kiss her again. Needed to kiss and kiss and kiss her until she craved him as much as he craved her.

  What was it about the way he cupped her throat, gentle but firm at the same time? It sent desire racing through her system. Well, more desire because she was already lightheaded from all the blood in her body settling between her thighs.

  As she’d thought, a naked Miles Brown was…well, quite a sight. One she’d probably not forget. She hoped.

  He looked at her like…like he’d never seen anything he wanted more. She didn’t know what to do with it other than like it a lot. She’d think about the rest of it later.

  Right then she had a gorgeous, naked man with a pierced dick, and she was all about it.

  He kissed her like there was nothing more to be done on a Thursday night. Like the way she tasted was something he had to have.

  She’d had partners who were hot for her before. Always a pleasure. But this was deeper and pushed all her buttons.

  There was no tour, no band, nothing but Harlow and Miles and wow, how about that?

  All other thoughts flew from her head when his mouth skated to her nipple, the pierced one. He didn’t hesitate to play with the bar, tugging it sending sparks of white-hot pleasure against her closed eyelids.

  She dug her nails into his sides, just above his hips and he groaned against her skin. A real-life pulse hit her pussy. He was a sex wizard, obviously. She might have popped her pussy a time or two, but pulsing? Only in her favorite books.