“You have nothing to apologize for. Harry—”

“Don’t,” I said. “What you saw out there, I’ve done numerous times. It’s part of the reason I don’t play in public.” I rubbed my face.

“I get that.” He sat next to me and hugged me tight as if he did it everyday. I didn’t protest. He idly doodled on my arm. “What’s the other reason you don’t play anymore?”

I sighed. “After my parents—it’s hard to be the person I used to be.”

He gave me a squeeze. “Want to know what happened to me once on stage?”

I gave him a small smile. “I can’t see you ever doing anything embarrassing.”

He shrugged. “Ha, well, one night we were playing a show in New Orleans at the House of Blues—the biggest one we’d had at that point. I was only twenty and a nervous wreck, so I sucked down some vodka before the show. Then, right in the middle of a song, my drunk ass tripped over some wires on stage and I fell flat on my face. The whole place died laughing.” He chuckled. “Busted my lip, chipped a tooth, and broke my nose.” He pointed to his front tooth where I saw a minuscule line. “Had to get a veneer put on.”

I sighed at the image of him on stage. Chipped tooth or not, he’d be beautiful. “My freak-out didn’t freak you out?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Made me want to jump across that table and smack Harry for getting you upset.” He searched my eyes. “And, I’m sorry to hear what happened to you. I lost my parents too, so I understand how grief changes a person. I was just a kid when it happened, but the pain that comes with loss doesn’t have an expiration date.”

His words moved me, but I didn’t want to go there. It hurt too much.

I flicked my eyes back up at his face, taking in the softened jawline, the careful way he touched my hand. I snuggled into his side. “You smell amazing,” I murmured.

“Yeah, well, you’re trying to change the subject, but I’ll go with it—because you may not know this, but I love to talk about myself.”

“You’re a cocky bastard,” I said on a laugh.

He inclined his head. “Thank you.”

I grinned. “And, I see what you’re doing … making me laugh when I really just want to hide and never have to face those people again. I’m probably fired, too.” I looked down at our now intertwined hands.

“Meh, this place sucks anyway. Plus, I didn’t like how your boss looked at you. I say you let me find you a real gig somewhere.”

“Really?”

He nodded and we were quiet for a moment until, “So, how do I smell?” he asked.

The words tumbled out. “Like the brine from the ocean just as the sun is coming up. Like the softest, most expensive man’s shirt I’ve ever touched. Like the most delicious piece of chocolate I’ve ever had on my tongue—” I stopped short and buried my face in his shoulder. “Gah, I went too far, didn’t I?”

He tipped my chin up. “You sound like you’ve put some thought into it.”

“Maybe.”

“So you think about me?” he asked.

I nodded. “Mostly at night when I play … and then later when I go to bed. I see your face, and it helps me sleep.”

He pushed a stray hair out of my face, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheek. “You’re different, V, not like anyone else I’ve ever met.” His voice was husky.

“Different like I might need to check myself into a sanitarium? Different like I might need to use stronger deodorant?”

His gaze captured mine. “Different like I’ve never met anyone with eyes the color of lavender. Different like hearing you play, then seeing you nude was the highlight of my year.” He stroked my lips with his fingers. “Different like your mouth is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“What about Blair? She isn’t your girlfriend?”

He paused, a struggle on his face until he seemed to come to a decision. He exhaled heavily. “It’s just pretend for the media so I can get more clout in Hollywood, specifically a Hing move.”

“Oh.” That was a surprise. “So you don’t want her?”

“You’re the one I want, V. I want to take you to the fucking stars with my mouth. I want to make you come so hard you can’t even think of me without wanting my hands on you …”

I moaned. He’d escalated fast.

“Exactly,” he whispered as his lips took mine. His hands held my face, his fingers splayed out against my cheeks as he explored my mouth with a gentleness that broke me.

But I wanted more. Heat. Sharpness. Roughness.

“Harder,” I managed to say when our lips separated.

His chest rose as he stared at me intently. “I didn’t bring you back here for this, but if we start, I can’t promise I’ll stop this time.”

“I didn’t ask you to stop.”

He growled and came back at me. Desperate. Clutching his hair, I gave it back to him tenfold. Our lips were wild, greedy, hands and mouths and teeth demanding payment from the other, as if we’d waited an eternity to find each other.

This is what I’d craved since the moment I’d played for him.

“Can I touch you?” he breathed, his eyes heavy-lidded, imploring me to say yes.

I nodded and unbuttoned my dress until it slipped down my shoulders and drifted to my waist.

“V, you’re too much,” he hissed and tugged my demi-bra down until my breasts spilled out. He traced light circles around my areolas, making me crazy until finally he fingered my nipples and twisted.

I gasped. “Just like that,” I whispered. “Again.”

His mouth captured my breast, his tongue lashing at my tender skin, teasing me with flicks and pulls. His teeth nibbled at me, and I arched my back. Closer. Yes, yes, yes. I bit his neck, and he dug his fingers into my waist and groaned.

“Yes,” I breathed as he shoved my dress down further, his fingers teasing the waistband of my panties.

He pressed his forehead to mine and stared into my eyes. “I’ve been dreaming of this since you played that first night. I’ve wanted my cock inside you while you played … you on my lap, my hands on your ass, your tits in my face … damn, it sounds weird when I say it out loud.”