I feel his body tighten, his arm clenches around me, and he comes with me, shouting my name as he lets loose.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper and chuckle when all he can do is smile. “I guess I don’t need that trip to yoga today.”

“Let’s go for a run later.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “I’ve missed running with you.”

“Okay. Are we staying here tonight? I’ll need some workout clothes.”

“I want to be with you, at your place, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” I grin. “I’ll head out, and you can make your calls and stuff and meet me there later.”

“Fuck that. I’ll take you. I’ll make my calls from your place later.” He kisses my forehead and lifts me off of him.

We’re not attached at the hip, and I start to tell him that being apart for less than an hour won’t kill us, but when he leaves me to throw the condom in the garbage, and the cold air hits my warm skin, I know that I don’t want to be apart from him.

I enjoy him too much.

Way too much.

Chapter Eleven

I stare at Leo as he drives through Seattle traffic late Friday afternoon. He looks hot driving this car. He’s pulled the sleeves of his gray blazer up his forearms, and I watch the muscles tighten and relax under the inked skin as he steers his supped up Camaro.

Even watching him drive makes me wet.

He’s dressed trendier tonight, with a gray blazer over a white Levi’s t-shirt, dark blue jeans and black Converse. He’s still sporting the beanie over his signature hair.

We’re heading out to dinner and then to a club to catch a band he knows.

Or, as I like to think of it, our first real date.

“Why a Camaro?” I turn to face him in my seat.

“What do you mean?” He changes lanes and smiles at me.

“You could have any car in the world. Why did you choose a Camaro and not something higher brow, like a Porsche or Bentley?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve wanted a Camaro since I was a kid. My dad had one.” He frowns as the memory runs through his mind. “You don’t like my car?”

“I like it, I was just curious.”

Leo’s phone rings as he stops at a red light and he pushes the hands-free button on the wheel.

“Nash.”

“Hey, it’s Eric.”

Leo smirks at me briefly. “Wassup?”

“Do you have an hour? The manager of that studio you called the other day just called me, and they have time to show us around tonight, if you can make it. Jake and I are in.”

He glances at me, his eyebrows raised in question, and I nod. “Sure I can swing over there. I have someone with me. Be nice.”

“That’s cool. I think Rick is coming too.”

“Okay, see you soon.” He disconnects the call and grimaces. “I’m sorry, babe. We shouldn’t be there long.”

“It’s cool.” I shrug and then can’t help but tease him. “But I thought you didn’t want me to meet your band.”

“Are you going to flirt with them?” he asks with a sigh.

“Probably.”

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath and I laugh, enjoying him.

He pulls up to the curb in front of the red brick building just across from my cupcake place. Eric and Jake are climbing out of Jake’s black Jeep Wrangler and cross to us.

“Hey, man.” They all do the man hand-shake-hug-thing that’s always confused me, and then both sets of eyes rest on me, waiting for an introduction. Leo wraps an arm around me and smiles.

“This is Samantha. Sam, these are a couple of the idiots in the band, Eric and Jake.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I’m meeting Nash.

“Hey, guys.” I smile warmly and shake their hands and keep my face completely neutral. I’m used to celebrities. I’m related to them.

For Godsake, I’m sleeping with one.

But I can’t help but do a little, tiny happy dance in my head.

“Come on, let’s look around and see what’s what.” Eric leads us inside, where a middle aged, partially balding man in a plaid shirt and khaki pants is talking with a younger, super skinny guy in skater gear.

“Thanks for coming, Rick.” Leo glances down at me and gestures to the balding guy. “This is Sam. Rick is our manager,” he informs me with a smile. I nod and smile and we’re all introduced to Skip, the skinny guy who manages the studio.

“So, what can I do for you guys?” Skip asks.

“We just want to take a look at the studio space, talk with you about setting up recording time, stuff like that,” Jake tells him with a grin. The female fans adore Jake. He’s tall and muscular, and has a killer smile. He always wears the same pair of sunglasses.

“No problem. There’s no one here now, so feel free to walk around and just ask me questions when you have them.” Rick turns to chat with Skip and the guys wander back toward the sound booths. Eric turns back and eyes me appreciatively, and I immediately realize he finds me attractive.

This could get awkward.

“So, are you from Seattle?” he asks with a grin. He really is cute. His jet-black hair is too long, and his eyebrow is pierced. He’s slim with strong arms. He’d have to be built to play as vigorously as he does for up to two hours at a time.

“Yep, born and raised,” I smile.

“Cool, me too.”

“Yeah? What part?” I ask, truly interested.

“Bellevue area,” he responds.

“Me too!” I lay my hand on his arm and grin. “What high school did you go to?”

“Excuse me,” Leo interrupts and I glance up into angry gray eyes.

What the hell?

“Skip, is there an office I can quickly use? I need to speak with you,” he murmurs to me.

“Sure, it’s down to your right,” Skip responds and returns to his conversation with Rick.

Leo links his fingers through mine and pulls me behind him to Skip’s office, shuts the door behind us and locks it.

“What’s the problem?”

He doesn’t answer, he just grips my upper arms in his hands and kisses me, hard, ravenous.

And I’m immediately caught up in him. I practically climb him, trying to get closer to him, to feel his skin on mine.

God, it’s always this way. One touch and I can’t get enough.

He lifts me against the door and grinds his cock against my center, kissing me to muffle my moans. His hands are rough, harsh. Hurried.