She decides to try making all the wrong choices for three months. Hit on a tattoo-covered rock musician? Check. Go back to his dressing room for a hot hook-up against the wall? Gulp. Drop everything to be a roadie for him to binge on more of the best sex of her life? Maybe. Start falling for him despite her better judgment? Um….yeah. Figure out why doing everything that seems wrong feels so darn right?
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For just a second, white teeth worried
at her lower lip. In exactly the spot he wanted to sink his own teeth. “Um, can
I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
Her tongue shot out to slick across her
lips. God, the woman was killing him. And she probably didn’t even know the
effect she had on him. In a quiet voice, Kylie asked, “Why me?”
“You did great tonight. You’re here.
Apparently, you’re available. Sometimes things just line up right.”
“Like our lips, earlier tonight.”
Cam shot a desperate glance at the door.
Sadly, everyone in the music industry treated the post-show closed door with a
solemn reverence. Nobody would interrupt them even if John Lennon came back to
life. Why the hell had Jake trusted him to be alone with Kylie? “Yeah, about
that.”
Kylie straddled him. Hooked her wrists
behind his neck. “We were interrupted. Let’s pick up where we left off.”
Heaving a deep breath, Cam said, “That’s
not a good idea.”
The wide-eyed enthusiasm disappeared,
replaced by a knowing, sultry look full of promise and passion. “That’s exactly why I want to do it. Bad
decisions are a recent specialty of mine.”
“No, I mean, I promised the guys.” Cam
kept his promises. Sure, he thought this particular one was stupid, but he
still planned to keep it. Performing was the equivalent of stripping yourself
naked in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of people. There had to be deep
trust between the people doing it with you.
She licked her lips again. And it was
obvious that this time she did it on purpose, eyes locked on his. “What, you’ve
saved your lips for them alone?”
Funny girl. Funny girl with soft breasts
pressed tight against his chest. And thighs that kept grinding her pelvis
against his. “I promised them no hanky-panky on the bus.”
“We’re not on the bus yet.”
Smart girl, too. Cam did love a good
logic loophole. No one could fault him for obeying the letter of the law
instead of the spirit. Or if they did, he’d at least have a decent defense.
With his last shred of self-control, he shook his head. “It wouldn’t be right.
You work for me.”
“Not yet. I haven’t signed on the dotted
line. In fact, I’m not even sure if I have a pen on me to sign.” In one swift movement, Kylie whipped her Riptide shirt
over her head and tossed it on the floor. “Maybe you could help me look for
it?”
Creamy breasts just big enough to fill
his palms spilled out of low-cut black lace. The lace was sheer enough he could
see the color of her nipples through it. They were about three shades paler
than her hair. Sexy as hell. He’d been hard since the moment she sat on his
lap. But now he was hard. Ramrod
hard. Steel-girder hard. Could break a stack of boards with just his penis
hard.
Cam wasn’t sure if he was giving in to his
lust, or just giving in to the inevitable. He didn’t care. Framing her breasts,
capturing their weight in his hands, he groaned, “God, you’re beautiful.” Then
he licked a long, wet line along the edge of her bra. Kylie felt like satin and
tasted like sin. It was his favorite combination.
“Help me be bad,” she whispered into his
hair.
He was a rock ’n’ roll star. It was
practically a contractual requirement to say yes to an offer like that. Still,
Cam had standards.
Bio: Christi Barth earned a Masters degree in vocal
performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance
then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately she succumbed to her
lifelong love of books and now writes award-winning contemporary romance.
Christi is President of the Maryland Romance Writers and lives
in Maryland with her husband.
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