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“We’re above some major subwoofers,” Landon answered as he planted himself behind her. “They don’t use this spot very often. I did a PR event up here a few months back. They had me throw T-shirts into the crowd.”
She leaned over the railing, observing throngs of people dancing to the beat, lost in their own world. Hidden in this secluded nook, the track changed. A techno remix of “No Fear,” another Heartthrob Warfare song, resonated through the club. It wasn’t one of their more popular tracks, but it was her favorite.
What were the chances of hearing this song in this secluded location with a pop god she was pretty damn sure wanted to screw her brains out?
She closed her eyes, taking it in, then parted her lips and sang along.
“Nothing to fear with you sitting here.
Nothing to hide with you by my side.
We fly above the pain. Soaring like birds.
Open hearts.
Open minds.
Baby, baby, when it’s all the line,
No fear can keep me from claiming what’s truly mine.”
With the bass rippling through her, the layers of worry and doubt peeled away. She swayed to the beat, soaking in the sound.
“Sing it again, Harper.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked over her shoulder.
Landon Paige looked ready to pounce.
“You want me to sing the refrain of your song…to you?”
He brushed her hair over one shoulder and kissed her neck. “That’s exactly what I want you to do,” he answered before taking her earlobe between his teeth.
Delicious anticipation hung in the air, and she stared down at the writhing bodies. There was nowhere for her to go. His muscled frame held her captive as his hard cock pressed against her, signaling his intention.
“Sing,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.
“Nothing to fear with you sitting here,”she began.“Nothing to hide with you by my side. We fly above the pain. Soaring like birds. Open hearts. Open minds. Baby, baby, when it’s all the line, no fear can keep me from claiming what’s truly mine.”
She’d performed this song in the mirror while singing into a hairbrush more times than she could count. It was surreal to have the artist, the lead singer of Heartthrob Warfare, listening as she sang his words. She waited for him to respond, but he didn’t make a sound.
“Landon?”
He gripped her hips, then slid the tutu down her legs. And in the blink of an eye, she was half-naked.
“Hold on to the railing and spread your legs,” he instructed—no, demanded.
Her voice had done something to the man because he wasn’t messing around.
And his bossy, take-charge tone was crazy hot. She hadn’t expected it. Usually, she was the mouthy one calling the shots. But not in this alternate universe. And heaven help her, it got her hot, like do-me-in-a-balcony-alcove kind of hot. She complied with his order and felt him shift his stance as he undid his pants and shrugged them down.
This was really happening.
Sweet anticipation tingled between her thighs.
“It should be illegal to be that sexy, bonbon,” he said, sliding his cock across her ass.
She inhaled a tight breath, but before she could exhale, a sliver of apprehension penetrated her sex-brain haze, and she glanced at the door. “You’re not concerned about someone walking in on us?”
