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I move around the side of the building, where it’s dark and the air is fresh.
My mind keeps going back to the moment I kissed Luke. The feel of his hands on me. The taste of his tongue in my mouth, like mint and heat and man. He kissed me like he was ravenous and I was his last meal. I want to do it again, but . . . what if I’m making a mistake?
I can’t ruin my career again over a man.
Maybe I won’t. Maybe I can have Luke and eat him, too. Or whatever.
There is no record label breathing down my neck. Would it adversely impact his career? No. But it could impact mine if I develop a pattern of sleeping with musicians. Ugh. The world already thinks I’m some kind of homewrecking tramp.
The backdoor opens, the drone of conversation getting louder for a couple of seconds and then cutting off as the door shuts, muting the roar down to a dull hum.
I hold my breath, muscles locking with tension, waiting intently for any sign of motion. Footsteps head my way.
A figure appears around the corner, peering in my direction, illuminated by the back light.
Is it Luke, or am I imagining things?
“Mindy? Is that you?”
“I’m here.”
“Are you okay?” He approaches slowly.
Of course. He’s worried aboutmeafter having this amazing night, knocking it out of the park, really, on top of overcoming his huge fear of singing in front of strangers.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He stops a few feet away, a dark shape a few feet in front of me. “For what?”
I take a step toward him. “I lied to you.”
“About what?”
I move another foot closer. “I know I said I could never mix business with . . . not business, but I’ve basically been a giant asshole idiot up until now, and so I just think maybe we could try to—"
He cuts off my words with his mouth.
Yes.
My entire body exalts. I melt into him.
His arms envelop me, his fingers sliding into my hair.
More.
The kiss deepens, his mouth opening over mine. This is no meek declaration of intent; it’s a brutal force of nature, a frantic discovery, like this might be the last chance we get to learn each other’s taste. I clutch at his shirt, needing to get closer.
He pulls back a fraction to speak, his lips brushing against mine as he talks. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
He dips his head to suck the skin on my neck between his lips, setting my nerve endings on fire and sending chills racing down my back.
A moan flows out of me.
On a gasp, he pulls back, his breathing labored. “Are you sure this is okay?”
I tug him closer. “Shut up and keep doing that thing with your tongue.”
“Yes.” The word is accompanied with a rumbling groan.
