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“Until…you.” He cupped her face in his hands, and his dreamy brown eyes were damned near hypnotizing. “Thank you for today.”
And she was speechless.
The girl who was always armed with a snarky comeback sat there, doe-eyed and ecstatic—really freaking ecstatic. There was no use fighting it. She blocked out the whispers in her head, reminding her that this guy was still a musician.
He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I thought of something.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“We’re alone,” he answered with a devilish twist to his lips. Before she could blink, he released his hold on her cheek. In one swift movement, he unbuckled her seat belt, lifted her across the console, and hoisted her onto his lap.
She gasped and steadied herself by gripping the side of the door. She hit the button that lowered the window a few inches, then feigned indignation as the breeze lifted the tendrils that framed her face. “What’s going on here?” But she couldn’t deny being manhandled by this big, strong, gorgeous celebrity was a crazy hot turn-on.
“It’s about me wanting you right this very second,” he said and slipped his hands beneath her skirt. He palmed her ass, and a primal yearning glimmered in his eyes. “You’re not wearing underwear.”
She tossed his ball cap onto the passenger seat and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am not.”
“You are a woman of her word.”
“And speaking of keeping one’s word,” she said and plucked his phone from the center console.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She rocked her hips, grinding into him as she did a quick internet search and found what she was looking for. “A deal is a deal. I’m putting the OpenDyslexic font on your phone. Remember, I go commando, and you—”
“—go crazy wanting to screw your brains out.”
She hit install, then tossed his phone onto the seat next to his cap. “Got to give a little to get a little, Mr. Heartthrob.” She swayed her hips. While he hadn’t exactly sat down with her to talk strategies for reading and writing music, he was never far from her when she worked with Aria. And that had to count for something.
“I’ve got something to give you,” he rasped, pressing his fingertips into her ass.
She rubbed against him as their bodies created delicious friction. “Do you like that?” she teased.
“It’s sweet, so sweet. Hello to my favorite treat,” he sang.
And hello, Swoon City.
The world melted away when this man sang to her.
“What is this bliss? It’s Harper with a bonbon kiss.”
With his cock stroking her sweet spot and his voice in her ear, he could order her to jump, and she’d ask how high.
“How do you do it?” she purred between kisses.
“It’s a pop god perk,” he answered, then kissed her with the intensity of a pop god with one thing on his mind.
And what was that one thing?
Total carnal release.
And she could say with one hundred percent certainty she was on the same page as this Paige.
Her body burned for the man.
She tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and rattled off one glorious moan as they dry-humped away in the driveway.
“Look who’s singing for me,” he rasped.
There was a decent helping of maddening arrogance in his tone, but the guy wasn’t wrong.
“Should we take this inside and get down and dirty on every flat surface?” she teased.
“Yeah…about that,” came a voice that didn’t belong to her or her heartthrob.
She and Landon froze, then slowly turned to look out the half-opened window.
A lanky guy wearing sunglasses and a beanie with a large box in his hands peered in at them.
“Sorry, dudes,” he crooned like he’d been sent by central casting for the part of gnarly surfer. “I hate to crash your free-love vibe, but it’s time to get baked.”
