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“What’s the next thing?”

When he doesn’t answer, I turn to look at him. He’s sitting in a chair by the window of the main bedroom, his right ankle resting on his left knee, staring at me.

“It’s not sexy,” he warns me.

“Okay.”

“It’s a Jeep Wagoneer. From the eighties. It’s a commission.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” I admit with a laugh. “But if you say it’s not sexy, I believe you.”

“It’ll be fun, though,” he says with a shrug. “It’s a big bastard, takes up two bays in the garage, but it’s a complete overhaul, so I’m looking forward to the challenge.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re excited about it. I can’t wait to see it.”

“Have you been doing any work?”

“I’ve written a few songs since the party at Leo and Sam’s,” I admit, feeling the excitement for the music bubble up in my chest. “I think they’re good, but who knows if I’ll be able to sell them in Nashville.”

“Who gives a flying fuck about that?” Keaton says, his voice suddenly hard. “Just enjoy it for a change, Sid. Write for the joy of it, not because you’re under pressure to sell a hundred million albums.”

“Wow, that would be nice.” I grin over at him, and when he doesn’t smile back, I shrug a shoulder. “Okay, you’re right. It’s fun to just play with the music, with no pressure to produce something groundbreaking. I really like the piano that I rented. It has a nice sound and fits me well.”

I shrug again and turn back to the suitcase. Aside from some toiletries, I think I have everything I need, and if I forget something, I’m sure I can buy it.

“When are you heading out of town?” he asks.

“Tomorrow morning. The rental company is going to drop off the car around eight.”

He stands, walks my way, and wraps his arm around my waist.

“Then I want you to stop packing for now because I’m going to get my fill of you to last me for a while.”

I feel my eyebrows tip up in surprise as all my nerve endings stand up in awareness. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.” He closes the suitcase and easily lifts it and sets it on the floor next to a dresser I’ve never used. When he turns back to look at me, his green eyes are full of lust and maybe a little need.

Isn’t this what I called and invited him over here for? Because I knew I wouldn’t see him for a few days, and I wanted to get my fill of him before I left?

His eyes journey from my face, down my chest and the rest of my body, and then slowly make the trip back up to my face.

“That might be the first time in my life that I truly feel like a man just undressed me with his eyes.”

“Whether you’re dressed or naked, I want you.” He takes a step toward me. “You star in every fucking dream at night, and as soon as I’m in a room with you, alone or surrounded by people, I want to touch you. To get you naked and lose myself in you until I don’t know where I end and you begin. You fucking undo me, Sidney.”

“I had no idea you were so good with words.”

He doesn’t laugh or even smile. He just continues the slow walk toward me. And when he’s within arm’s reach, he simply lifts his hand and brushes the tips of his fingers down my cheek.

Just that little touch is enough to send my body into overdrive. My nipples immediately pucker, and my breath catches in my throat.

Everything about this man is pure, unadulterated sex.

“I love it when your eyes get heavy like that. It means that you want me, that you’re thinking about how I’m going to fuck you, and it turns you the hell on.”

“Everything you do turns me on.” My voice is thin and breathless, and I can’t wait any longer. I reach for him, fist my hands in his shirt, and close the gap between us, pressing my chest to his and boosting up on my toes so I can meet his mouth with mine.

And it’s like a switch has been flipped. He’s no longer patient. His hands dive under my shirt and brush over my skin, from waist to ribs and over my back.

God, I want to climb him.

It’s always like this. The minute we get started with each other, I can’t get him or myself naked fast enough.

“Clothes,” I mutter against his mouth. “Get them off.”

I tug at his shirt, pushing it higher up his torso, until he briefly pulls away from me and yanks it over his head.

And I’m left staring at his smooth chest and ridiculously sculpted abs.

“It’s like you were carved out of marble,” I mumble as I reach for him. “The ancient Greeks would have worshiped you.”

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