CHAPTER 6

Saturday, May 27, 1995

1:46 AM

The Tradewinds

Sea Bright

We have to cross over the crowded dance floor in order to shortcut to the other side of the large club. Jack is trying to carve out a path for us both when I see him inexplicably reach his hand behind him and blindly grab for mine. I just as inexplicably put my hand in his, and have the oddest feeling as we weave our way through the crowd.

It's kind of... electric in a weird sort of way. Our palms are flattened against one another's, our fingers intertwined... It's as though we've performed this act naturally a million times over, not just for the first time one minute ago. The thought has me baffled, but fascinated nonetheless.

Before I know it, he's led me over to the payphones situated near the restrooms. He gives my hand a quick squeeze before releasing his hold and ducking into the men's room.

When Jack lets go, I'm surprised at the loss that washes over me. What the hell was that? I don't even know the guy and he has me sweating from simply holding his hand? I can't even imagine what holding his dick will be like. I'll probably pass out.

I spend like an hour digging through the ton of junk in my purse to find the number for the beach house, but it finally appears and I make the call. Even though I'm not in the main part of the club, it's still loud, and I burrow into the alcove as much as I can while covering my free ear with my hand in order to hear.

Samantha answers.

"Hey, Sammy! What are you doing there? I thought you were sick."

"I was. But I slammed down a few Sudafed and managed to catch the girls before they left. Where are you?"

"Tradewinds," I shoot back. "Came to see a band."

"Any good?"

"Yeah, actually. They're fantastic."

I glance up to find Jack leaning against the wall having a cigarette, waiting for me. Fuck. He heard that.

"So, I'm going to assume you'll be spending the night elsewhere?" Sam chuckles at her dig, but it's not like I can take offense. My girls know me too well.

"Well, yeah, but not because... We ran into Monty. We're crashing there tonight."

I thought Jack would've headed back to our friends, but instead, he's just standing there watching me as I talk to Sam. His eyes are squinted as he blows smoke through those delectable lips, practically begging me to suck on them for the next twelve hours or so. Give or take.

"Lucky bitch. Tell him we said hi."

"I will."

Before I can get another word out, I suddenly feel the length of Jack's body pressed against my back. What the hell? It catches me by surprise, to say the least.

He chuckles against my hair as he swipes it away and lowers his lips to the back of my neck, my skin shivering at the touch. The whole time, I'm trying to have a human conversation with Sam, no easy feat while this dark prince is ravaging me from behind. I guess he isn't planning on wasting any time before getting this party started, and that is just fine by me. I'm more than game.

I snap back to the real world when I hear Sammy taunt, "Well, have fuuun!"

As if that isn't the understatement of the night. How can a hot rock star against my body be anything but fun? I offer a quick "I'm about to," before giving Sam a rather abrupt goodbye and hanging up, bracing my hand on the wall above the phone to press my backside against him.

At that, he gives out a snicker and whispers against my ear, "Oh, so you wanna play, do you?"

Oh, hell yeah I do.

There's an electric current running through my body as he turns me in his arms. He has his hands at my waist, running slowly up and down my sides, and a just-kidding smile playing at his lips.

He might be kidding around, but I most certainly am not.

I take a quick look down the hall before backing him against the wall, sliding a hand up his chest and meeting his eyes. I can see the surprise in his, because he has no idea who he's dealing with yet.

"Do I want to play? I thought you'd never ask," I fire back, watching a sly smile eek across his lips. Lips that I'm about to devour.

I bring my palms around behind his neck, grab a handful of that dark hair in my fist, and pull. He's taken aback by the aggressiveness, but I don't wait for him to figure anything out before rising on my tiptoes and meeting his mouth with mine.

His body stiffens at that, obviously caught off guard, but it doesn't take him long to warm to my advance. Our lips are perfectly matched, our bodies fitting effortlessly against one another's. I feel his muscles relax as he returns my kiss, and soon enough, everything goes insane.

His hands slide around my waist as he pulls me closer against his body, and well, what do we have here? It seems Mr. Happy has decided to join us.

Jack turns us around to slam my back against the wall, and holy shit, I think I'm going to die. Our lips meet again and there's a pounding in my ears beyond the blaring music, making me dizzy.His mouth opens, and I can taste his salty, minty flavor, smell the smoky, shaving-cream scent of him, invading my senses, causing me to grip the shirt at his chest and hang on for the ride.

Or maybe I need to take him on one.

I push off the wall and back him through the nearest doorway... which turns out to be a storage closet. But there's a lock on the handle, so I take advantage of that before kissing him again. The smell of bleach and stale beer is permeating my senses as we touch and taste one another, the heat escalating off the charts.

Just as my hand slips down to cop a feel, he asks, "Hey, whoa. Liv. What are you doing?"

The dark is pretty blinding, but I still manage to meet his face, a scowl on mine. "What do you think I'm doing?"

He grabs my wrist and places my hand at his waist. Trying to cover for my pounding heart, I slide my palms around to the small of his back, up his spine, across his shoulder blades, and go back in for another kiss. His hair is brushing against my cheek as his tongue invades my mouth, and before I can stop myself, a slight moan escapes from my throat.

I've been with lots of guys before, but something is different with him and I can't quite figure out what it is just yet. He's hot as hell, which is normally my only prerequisite for hooking up with somebody. But this guy has totally upped the ante. He isn't just a rock star. He is a rock GOD. And from the first second I saw him on stage tonight, I knew I was going to wind up here at some point. Well, not here in a freaking closet for godsakes, but here in this guy's naked grasp doing the horizontal happy dance.

Or, I guess, vertical, in this case. TMI?

My hands go back to his jeans, ripping at Jack's fly, but before I can even get the first button undone, he braces his hands at my shoulders and nudges me away. "Whoa, whoa. Take it back some."

Still in a daze, I ask, "What?"

"This isn't happening. Not here."

Since when does a rock star give a shit where I do him? "I locked the damn door. No one's coming in here."

"You got that right. No one's coming in here. We can do better than this."

Is he serious? He started this whole thing, and now he's trying to put the brakes on? I'm suddenly struck with the absurd thought that he was only joking when he attacked me at the pay phones. No freaking way is that possible. Is it?

I cross my arms as my sight adjusts to the dim light, eyeing him up and down. "Is this the part where you try to convince me you're a gentleman? Trying to pretend that you want this to be 'special for me'? Because trust me, Jack, I'm not looking for 'special.' I'm not asking you to work that hard. You can drop the wooing bit."

"Every girl is looking for special."

"Not this girl."

He crosses his arms, mocking my pose. "Then what are you looking for?"

"Fun," I shoot back without hesitation. He eyes me in disbelief, so I add, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Maybe I'm done with fun."

What is with this guy? "What's your game, player?"

"No game. Why?"

"You come on like gangbusters, but then the second you find out I'm into it, bam! Light switch off."

That makes him chuckle. "Oh, you're a real maneater, aren't you? My mother warned me about girls like you."

"You've never met a girl like me, pal."

"Wanna bet?"

We're staring each other down, and I'm trying not to let him see how humiliated I feel. Here I am, practically throwing myself at his feet, and he's turning me down.

Rejection can suck a bag of dicks.

He lowers an eyebrow and sighs, "Look, Liv. I've done this too many times to know that nothing good ever comes out of a situation like this."

"Out of what? A one-night stand? Who says I'm looking for anything more than that to come out of this?"

"Who says I'm not?" He lets out an exasperated breath and runs a hand through his hair. "Look. I like you. Can't we just, you know, get to know each other? Do you have a problem with that?"

Yes. He's messing with my whole M.O. I don't do the 'getting to know you' thing with rock stars. I have mind-blowing sex with them and then go on my merry way. Why is he making this so difficult? "I don't date musicians."

"And I don't fuck groupies."

We stare each other down, caught in a heated standoff. Who the hell does he think he is?

"First of all, I'm not a groupie. I'm a music-loving girl with a healthy sexual appetite who knows how to say 'thank you' properly."

"Thank you for what?"

"For being talented as hell, you idiot!"

That brings an unreadable smirk to his lips. I don't have the patience right at the moment to try and explain anything more than that to him, so I continue with my rant. "Secondly, you're not fooling anyone with this chivalry bit. You're a red-blooded male with a working cock that rose to the occasion the second my lips hit yours."

Why the hell is he just standing there smiling at me?

I shake off his smarmy face and line up the kill shot. "Thirdly... Since you don't fuck 'groupies,' feel free to go fuck yourself."

At that, I storm out, leaving him standing there gawking at my retreating form.

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