Page 47 of Hard Rock Fling
"Fuck, sweetheart, that mouth of yours…" he tugged me to his chest and plastered his lips to mine. "I've never felt anything like it," he murmured.
A pang of hurt shot through my chest. Those were the last words I wanted to hear after what we'd done. I pulled back. "Don't compare me to other girls."
His brow furrowed, distressed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"I'm not going to be like the others. You can't make me fall for you with pretty words."
I wasn't going to let that happen again.
"That's not—" He closed his eyes, frustrated. "I swear to you, that's not what I'm doing."
"Really? So you don't say that to all the girls?"
"Hope, I swear to you, you're not just another notch on my bedpost."
"Then what am I?" This conversation was getting too serious, too close to a topic I didn't want to examine. But I had to know.
"You're—" he stopped, tilting his head and giving me a piercing stare. "I don't know what you are."
"Gee, thanks."
"No, I mean it." He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. I resisted the urge to push it back. "I don't know what this is. But there's a connection between us." He cupped my face, bringing my head up to meet his eyes. "From the moment you called out my name after that concert, I knew you were…" he trailed off, glancing away. "This sounds so fucking stupid."
"What? I'm what?"
Those green-gold eyes flicked to mine. "You're different from the others."
I let out a sharp bark of laughter without meaning to. "Seriously? You're going to use that line on me?"
He groaned and leaned forward to rest his forehead against my shoulder. "I know! I told you it's stupid."
"You don't have to sweet talk me to get me into bed. It's too late for that."
"It's not sweet talk. It's the truth."
If it was only a line, if it was only something he said to all the girls, I didn't care.
I wanted him.
I watched him grumble as he struggled to buckle his belt. Sexy, gorgeous, and all mine.
I focused on smoothing out my own rumpled dress. I had to remind myself. He was only mine for now. This wasn't permanent.
But despite the voice in my head yelling a multitude of warnings at me, I was dangerously close to falling for a playboy rock star.
Chapter Seventeen
After that afternoonin the office with Ian, I threw myself into my work. I needed a distraction to keep from obsessing over him, and his possible feelings for me, and my growing feelings for him.
With the guys getting ready to wrap up recording, there was plenty to do. I worked long hours with the Marketing and Product Development departments. I was put in charge of overseeing clothing fittings, working with tailors and seamstresses to make sure each outfit fit perfectly. The guys had to look their best.
That's when my plan to avoid obsessing over Ian completely failed.
I was stuck in a room with half naked rock stars, including the smoking hot guitarist I'd been sleeping with. And I had to be the one telling them to take off their pants. I didn't think my heart could take it.
The guys were professional about it — mostly. Cameron couldn't keep himself from cracking a few naughty innuendoes.
"Couldn't wait to get me naked, could you?" He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly, not taking his eyes off me once. "You don't have to pretend it's for work. I'm more than happy to strip for you any time you want."
