Walking away from the bar, Sarah’s heart slammed against her rib cage and her knees wobbled. It was only a song, Sarah. Why did you do that?
She wasn’t sure, really. She only knew that when Colt looked at her and said, “Why I love her,” she’d felt it in her heart. She felt like he’d meant it. And scarier still, she felt it back.
I’m in deep shit. Now wasn’t the time to open her heart to a man and start a relationship.
Dammit. She’d come here for fun. And possibly for some casual sex with Colt. Double fun. How had the night turned on her so quickly?
“Sarah!” Colt’s deep, manly voice echoed through the night air as she marched down the sidewalk in her ridiculously high heels. Several passing cars took the opportunity to honk and catcall.
Oh, yes. I bet you catch all the ladies with that class.
The sound of footsteps approached as Colt caught up to her. “Wait. Why did you run off like that?” He grabbed her arm, stopping her from going any further.
I cannot have this conversation. She didn’t want to go there. Tonight needed to stay light and focus on having a good time.
“The Sarah I know doesn’t run away.”
She whooshed out a breath and turned to face him. “Was that just a song, or did you mean something more?”
“What if I did?”
A heaviness filled her body. She dropped her shoulders. “Then I’d say you are a big fool, because I’m the last woman in the world you should feel anything for.”
“Would you let anyone ever tell you how to feel?”
“No.”
“Then why would you expect me to be any different?” He cocked one beautiful brow.
“All right, Colt. Let me speak plainly.”
“I’d expect nothing less—you’re very good at it.”
“You are setting yourself up for major heartbreak—”
“I am not a child, Sarah. I’m perfectly aware of the situation and risks.” He took her hand. “And I know what I want.”
“What exactly do you want? Because it can’t be sitting around for a decade, waiting for me to get out of prison or visiting me on weekends or Christmas at a shit-hole penitentiary?”
“You are not going to prison. I won’t let it happen.”
God, he’s so stubborn. She loved his conviction, but she couldn’t sit around hoping for a miracle. It would only lead her to a very disappointing place, and she needed to be mentally prepared for what was coming. Still, arguing with him wasn’t getting her anywhere.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s assume you’re right. An angel falls out of the sky and makes my legal woes vanish. Then what? Am I going to tour with you? Spend my life being a leather badass, living out of a suitcase, drinking every night while watching hordes of groupies flash their boobs at you? Or having paparazzi constantly chasing us?”
He gave her a stern look just as a car passed by, the headlights catching the honey-colored flecks in his angry eyes. “I’m a musician and, yes, touring and publicity is part of the job. But that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you—what I wanted to show you tonight. I go to work, and then I go home. My lifestyle is comprised of gardening, hiking, and collecting wine and vintage motorcycles. I write music—including classical—and when I’m recording, I do it at home in my private studio. I love to cook, to sing on my porch overlooking the ocean, and I hate going to parties.”
Sarah felt her face get all tingly and hot. Was he telling the truth?
“Really? You’re not a rebellious badass?” she asked.
“Nope.”
It was so difficult to believe. Yet it completely makes sense. He came across as down to earth and introspective.
“Then why do you pretend to be some wild man?”
“I told you this is my job. I play the part of a rock star—that means events, parties, award shows—but that is not who I am. I’m just a guy who loves music. And when I travel for tours and have downtime, I go to plays, I listen to local bands. I eat and do the things I love. And when it’s time to play, I get up on stage for two hours and perform.”
“So you don’t like doing it?”
“I love it. I love making people happy and playing live. But I only tour every three or four years for six months with breaks in between.”
Sarah felt so confused about Colt, but at the same time, she finally understood why she could never quite figure him out. He had a mature confidence about him—the way he stood and carried himself. The way he put up a big wall. He didn’t come off as a reckless rebel once you got to know him.
God, now I want him even more. Imagine this guy cooking me dinner shirtless. Or sipping wine together on the beach. She could definitely see that being a life she would love. Even the touring sounded nice with the way he’d described it. Not chaotic. Not filled with wild parties and mobs of groupies twenty-four seven. He played tourist, went to work for a few hours each night, and that was that. She was oversimplifying, of course, because his work consisted of playing to crowds of thirty thousand people at a time, but it was his job. And his passion. She finally got it.
She looked down at her tired feet. This night had been far less complicated when she’d believed his interests to be casual. His rock star lifestyle would keep this relationship from going anywhere serious. They could have fun. She could keep her emotions in check knowing they had no future.
Dammit. Why does he have to have feelings for me? Because now, she was cooked. She wanted him for way more than just one night of play.
“I can’t let this go any farther, Colt. You know what’s coming, and it won’t be good. We’ll only end up hurt.” And I can’t afford to miss you.
“Like I said, I’m a grown man and can make my own choices. So let me decide.”
Sarah took a tiny step back. God, she wanted to let this happen. But then she imagined losing her case, as she fully expected, and being hauled away in handcuffs, knowing that if she saw Colt again, it would be from behind a thick sheet of Plexiglas. And given the charges pending against her, she could get as much as ten years. Ten.
“I can’t, Colt. I really can’t. Because I want this too much.”
He looked down at his boots, and his chest expanded with deep breaths. “Then, at least let’s finish off the night. You came for fun. Let’s have some fun.”
“No. I think I’ll spare us any more torture and grab a hotel room. I’ll get myself back to SF in the morning.”
“Don’t be insane.” He looked at his watch. “It’s early—only one in the morning.”
“Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms. “How late do you normally stay up?”
He didn’t answer.
She lifted her brows, waiting.
“Fine. Ten o’clock. I like getting up early to exercise. Helps me feel more productive.”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Hey, that doesn’t mean I’m a stick-in-the-mud. I know how to have fun—did it for years. As for you, when’s the last time you had a free pass to get into any place you wanted to go?”
He had a point. “Like where?”
“Name it. Restaurants, bars, museums—just about anywhere except a bank.” He scratched his chin. “No. Wait. Scratch that. I have my bank president on speed dial.”
“For?”
“Sometimes a man’s just gotta do some banking.” He shrugged those broad shoulders.
She made a little laugh. Honestly, off the top of her head, she couldn’t think of any place she wanted to go save one: his porch. But going back to his house would only lead to another place. Bed. And that would not be a good idea.
“No. I really think we should call it a ni—”
He reached out and whipped her into his arms. Before she could protest, his lips were on her—rough, passionate, demanding. Her entire body stiffened, wanting to resist, but the heat of him, the taste of him, melted her resolve like an ice cube in a warm bath.
So, so warm. She opened her mouth to him and let their tongues dance in a sexual rhythm. So, so hot. She threw her arms around his neck, wanting more, but knowing somewhere in the back of her tequila-saturated mind that giving in to her desire for him at this point, knowing that he had feelings for her, meant giving him a piece of her heart, too. Because the only thing that had been keeping her heart safe had been believing he wasn’t relationship material. He was. He was once-in-a-lifetime, love-of-your-life material.
I have to stop. I have to sto—
Slowly, he began walking her back until he had her pressed up against the wall of whatever building it was. He ground his hard lean frame into her. Hips, chest, abs—she loved the feel of him. God, she had so wanted this tonight. Him hard, inside her, giving her a repeat of that night at the club in the bathroom. She’d never felt so ravenous with a man, and she’d certainly never orgasmed like that.
Their kissing moved to a frantic pace. Colt pushed into her, unleashing the throbbing ache between her legs.
Goddammit. This is so, so wrong. But she couldn’t stop. Colt felt so, so right.
He moved his hands to the sides of her face, completely subduing her with that sexy mouth of his.
Okay. We need to get naked. At least from the waist down. She needed to feel him inside her one more time. She needed to feel that smooth, muscled skin pressed against her bare breasts and hear that deep, throaty sound he made when he came. That wasn’t wrong, was it?
“Get a fucking room!” a man yelled from a passing car, preceded by honking.
“Ohmygod.” Sarah pushed back, breaking the moment. “What am I doing?” she whispered.
Colt smirked. “You’re making out with me, and you liked it.”
“We can’t do this.”
“Come on. I know just the place to take you for a quiet nightcap.” He’d sidestepped the issue.
She narrowed her eyes.
“Okay.” He held up his hands in the surrender position. “I won’t touch you again,” he said, then added, “Unless you ask.”
“Colt,” she snapped, meaning she didn’t want to be pushed. They couldn’t go any farther.
“Sarah.” He grabbed her hand. “I’m not ready to let you go just yet. I’m only asking for another hour. Okay, two.”
“Colt.” She snapped her hand back, this time putting it behind her back, which was still against the wall.
“Saraaaah,” he growled.
“No.”
“After this next stop, I’ll personally take you to a hotel. In fact, I’ll text my assistant right now and have him find you a room.”
“You have a male assistant?”
He shrugged. “Why not? Men can do things as good as women.”
“You’re funny.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. And I’ll take that as a yes to my offer.” He whipped out his cell and began texting away.
“What are you offering again?”
“Tequila,” he said, still looking at his phone and typing. “You seem to like it, and I own a tequila bar.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yuh-huh,” he replied with a grin, mocking her voice and laying on that irresistible charm. “Right here in LA. I have to invest my money and tequila seems like a safe bet given it’s been popular for thousands of years and approved by a very prestigious judge.” He winked.
So charming.
She felt torn between wanting to spend more time with him and not digging herself any deeper. That kiss had been too tempting and her body felt tense with sexual need.
Sarah like. Sarah want. Colt big and strong and Sarah need tequila. Tequila good. Colt good, too.
“Fine. One more stop and then we say goodbye.”