About the Authors

TARYN BELLE is the pen name of Cea Person, a bestselling Canadian author who wrote about her unconventional childhood in two memoirs, North of Normal and Nearly Normal, both published by HarperCollins. She is a former international model and a businesswoman, running a swimwear company with merchandise popularized by celebrities such as Jessica Alba and Kate Hudson. She loves playing board games with her husband and three children, hosting dinner parties in her Vancouver home and crafting out.

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author CATHRYN FOX is a wife, mom, sister, daughter, aunt and friend. She loves dogs, sunny weather, anything chocolate (she never says no to a brownie), pizza and red wine. Cathryn lives in beautiful Nova Scotia with her husband, who is convinced he can turn her into a mixed martial arts fan. When not writing, Cathryn can be found Skyping with her son, who lives in Seattle (could he have moved any farther away?), shopping with her daughter in the city, watching a big action flick with her husband, or hanging out and laughing with friends.

Also by Taryn Belle

Tropical Heat

In Too Deep

Also by Cathryn Fox

On His Knees

On Her Terms

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

In For Keeps & Under His Touch

Taryn Belle and Cathryn Fox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09936-3

IN FOR KEEPS & UNDER HIS TOUCH

In For Keeps © 2020 Cea Sunrise Person Under His Touch © 2020 Cathryn Fox

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

In For Keeps

Back Cover Text

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

Under His Touch

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

About the Publisher

In For Keeps

Taryn Belle

Kiki’s sexy one-night stand with rock god Dev Stone has become a red-hot affair with a lot of potential...until she discovers a secret that threatens to ruin everything.

Kiki Becker moved to Moretta—a beautiful island and popular celebrity haunt—to escape a painful divorce. But after a scorching one-night stand with rock star Dev Stone almost becomes a sex scandal, she realizes she needs to face real life again. When Dev offers her a job as his tour assistant, Kiki leaps at the chance to go to Australia and find the mother who abandoned her decades ago.

Dev can’t stop thinking about his electrifying night with Kiki, so he’s thrilled when she accepts. Their chemistry is irresistible, and the pair soon embark on a sexy no-strings affair—the perfect distraction from his tiresome celebrity life and all its trappings.

Kiki realizes she’s falling for Dev and cautiously confides in him about her past, bringing the couple closer together. But Dev has his own dark secret and it could push Kiki away forever. Will he trust her with it...or walk away and break her heart before she can break his?

Harlequin DARE publishes sexy romances featuring powerful alpha heroes and bold, fearless heroines exploring their deepest fantasies.

Four new Harlequin DARE titles are available each month, wherever ebooks are sold!

To Remy, my real-life love story

PROLOGUE

“THIS DRESS,” DEV SAID, trailing his hands beneath it up to the lacy edge of her panties, “needs to be on the floor.”

Kiki laughed and squirmed away from him to the other side of the sofa. “You said you were going to show me around, rock star,” she said, gesturing toward his studio equipment.

Dev gazed longingly at the woman he’d known for less than an hour. Their eyes had met across a room full of people—his room full of people—and her pull on him had been as irresistible as a rare earth magnet. She was obviously gorgeous, but it was her confidence that had attracted him to her. A brief conversation had revealed a quick wit and a straightforward, no-games personality. The habit she had of pulling her hair to one side to bare her neck, the way she parted her sensual lips when he spoke to her, had had his mind going to lustful places within minutes.

“Later,” he said. “Right now we’ve got way better things to do.”

“But you’re missing your own party,” Kiki said, bringing a finger to her mouth. She held it there, licking the tip suggestively while electricity jolted down Dev’s spine. She was making him fucking crazy, but soon she would be his. He only hoped he wouldn’t crush her. At six foot two he was tall, and he kept his body muscular with regular workouts. She couldn’t be a shade over five-three, a perfect china doll in a pink minidress. Her large blue eyes, freckles and long strawberry blonde hair added to the effect of innocence.

But he already knew from what had led them here, desperate for privacy, that she was anything but. Thirty minutes of making out on his private beach like a pair of hormonal teenagers had nearly brought him to his knees. By the time she’d taken his hand and pressed it to her pussy in a silent plea, he’d actually been worried about his own control. No—this woman was no innocent doll. She was red-hot, in charge and fully attuned to both of their gratification. “This is my party,” Dev said. “We’ve got everything we need. Music, fun and the best fucking present I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt.

“That’s a lot of pressure. I guess I’d better deliver.”

“Somehow I’m not too worried.”

He dropped his shirt onto the sofa, not missing the hungry rove of her eyes over his chest. Drawing one knee up, she let her leg fall open just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her thong: black silk edged with a cream lace border. His cock surged forward in his shorts, aching for her touch. She licked her lips, which were swollen and pink from the intensity of their kissing. He leaned toward her and took them again. She yielded to his tongue, and he let it build until she was biting ravenously at his mouth. A sharp charge zapped up his thighs. The pleasant, dull ache in his groin was becoming a throb. He needed her. Needed her breast in his mouth, her long hair wrapped in his fist, his cock thrusting into her, her moans of pleasure in his ear. His entire body was vibrating with anticipation, an insane urgency to claim her. Something told him he was in for the fuck of his life, and it wasn’t just because he hadn’t bedded anyone in over a year. He had chosen her when he’d had no intention of sleeping with anyone tonight, and that in itself was a dangerous thing to consider.

Throwing her head back, Kiki slid a hand into her panties. “Ohh...” she moaned as she touched herself. He watched her, so overcome with desire he was practically trembling. “Was this what you wanted?” Pushing a finger inside herself, she closed her eyes and sighed rapturously.

It was too much to take. Dev grasped her wrists and pushed her hands above her head. Then he slowly lowered himself between her legs until he was pressing his cock, still caged in his shorts, against her pussy.

“This is what you want. Trust me,” he said, pushing into her rhythmically. He knew he’d hit her sweet spot when he was rewarded with a helpless whimper. Her wrists strained as she tried to reach for him, but he held them firmly in place. Then he brought his mouth down on hers for another slow, sensual kiss, ending it before it became too urgent. He wanted to prolong this delicious moment for all it was worth—not his usual MO. Normally he preferred quick and impersonal, but this tiny creature was bringing something out in him that had his head spinning. He wanted to fuck her like a wild animal and caress her gently at the same time. But most of all, he wanted her to experience the same pressing need that was melting his brain and firing up his insides like an inferno.

“It looks like you have a present for me,” Kiki said, looking down at his shorts. “Shall I unwrap it?”

“That would mean I’d have to let you go,” Dev replied, rubbing his thumbs in slow circles on the insides of her wrists. “And I happen to have you just where I want you.”

Her wide blue eyes teased him back. “I promise I won’t try to escape.”

Dev loosened his grip, and she unzipped his fly. He let her get a good look at his cock, perfectly outlined against his black boxers, before he reached for the hem of her dress. “Me first.”

He tugged the garment over her head and stared at her in wonder. Her breasts, encased in a bra that matched her panties, were the perfect size—still small, but not as tiny as the rest of her. Lightly dusted with freckles. Her rosy nipples strained toward him when he unclasped her bra. He hooked a finger around one and tugged, thrilling at her sharp intake of breath. “Yes, please.” Her hands, finally freed, went to the back of Dev’s head to bring his mouth to her breast. He flicked his tongue over it mercilessly until she was gasping. When she pushed her pussy harder into him, he pulled back. She made a frustrated sound.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at her face. He was pleased to see that her pupils were dilated with need. “Was there something else you wanted?”

“There sure is, rock star. Your tongue.” She brought his hand down to her panties. He could feel her wetness through the thin fabric, sending another jolt straight to his cock. “Lick my pussy just like that.”

He hooked his fingers around her thong, and she eagerly raised her bottom off the sofa. He slid the silky triangle down to her ankles. She was beautiful down there, too, a wet dream come true. “You mean right here?” he teased, hovering his hand an inch above her pussy.

She drew toward it like a magnet. “Yes, right there,” she gasped, grabbing his fingers and pushing them inside her. The intoxicating moan that escaped her lips was almost his undoing, but it was nothing compared to the feel of her warm wetness. Jesus. It was time. But his body wanted to rush forward and pull back at the same time to prolong the delicious tension.

Sliding his hands under her ass, Dev trailed his tongue up the inside of her thigh. When he reached the tense muscle that led straight to heaven, he stopped, making her wait for one more torturous moment. Then he flicked his tongue across her clit. “God, you’re sweeter than a strawberry,” he whispered. Before long, he found the exact pressure that brought those arousing moans of pleasure to his ears.

“Please, Dev. More, more, more—” Kiki gasped. He saw her hands open and close, open and close, like it was the last part of her body she had control over. Then she started to tremble, and he knew she was dangerously close. He pulled away from her. “Oh, no you don’t. Not without my cock inside you.”

Her eyes were wild with desire. “Give it to me. Now, Dev. Fuck me.”

He couldn’t have waited any longer if his life depended on it. Kneeling on the sofa with his hips at her eye level, he let his shorts drop to his knees. Her hips, which were squirming on the sofa in anticipation, stilled when she set eyes on his cock. “That’s a very nice instrument you have there, rock star.”

“Just wait till you feel it,” he said, rolling on the condom he’d snagged from an old stash on his way in the door.

“I’m dying to,” she sighed, back to gyrating her hips. He grasped them firmly to stop her, gripping her with the same claiming energy he felt charging through his cells. Her eyes widened a bit, and then her face relaxed into a smile. “My God, where did you come from?”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing about you,” he said, letting her feel his weight on top of her. “You ready?”

“Never readier.”

He wanted to go slowly, but his consuming need for her halted that idea in its tracks. Next time, he thought above the roaring in his head. He positioned himself and entered her in one forceful thrust.

“That’s it,” Kiki moaned. “God, yes. That’s it. That’s it!”

It felt heavenly. Better than he’d even imagined. It took all of his control not to drive himself forward in pursuit of his own pleasure, and he could tell by her face that she’d been transported to a similar place. As he moved, her legs went around his waist and her hands went to his ass, pushing him in deeper. He could already feel a thin sheen of sweat coating his body, the result of passion and forced restraint. It felt so good that he never wanted it to end, he wanted to fuck her until his party was over and the guests had cleared out and morning came. And then he wanted to do it all over again.

“Fuck me harder, Dev,” Kiki cried breathlessly, her eyes hooking into his like talons. “Give me everything you have. Everything. Please.”

She’s there with me, Dev thought triumphantly. His to bring to the same heights of ecstasy he knew he was about to rise to. At his mercy.

Or was he at hers?

He slid a hand up her neck and over the bump of her slightly pointed chin. When her lips parted, he pushed his fingers inside her mouth. She made sweet sounds of greed as she sucked them. He quickened his pace, feeling the promising heat build at his center. Her moans spurred him on as their bodies slid, skin against skin. They were too perfect together. As different as their bodies were, they were made to move as one, made to leave each other gasping over and over again. And it made no sense that he was thinking that way. Who was this woman he suddenly wanted to know everything about, to feel the same desire that was consuming him? An hour ago Kiki had been a temptation, half an hour ago an object of lustful anticipation, ten minutes ago the best fuck he could remember. But now, as she pitched beneath him with a sharp cry and her pussy tightened hard enough to bring him over the edge with her, all that filled his head were three little words: more of her.

CHAPTER ONE

“EARTH TO DEV,” Alex said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Nicola will be here in a few minutes. You want another beer?”

Like an earsplitting record scratch, Dev’s mind snapped back to the moment: Pablo’s bar, late afternoon on the patio, a casual drink with his little brother.

And two days before his descent into hell.

Remembering that night with Kiki had been so much more pleasant—even if it did fill his entire body with frustrated, overheated longing.

“Sure,” Dev said to the waiter, trying not to look over his shoulder as he slid his bottle across the table. Because that was where the bar was, which also happened to be where Kiki worked. Not that she was here today—ever since their night together three weeks ago, she seemed to have developed the magical power of avoidance. And on a three-square-mile island that they both called home, that was nothing short of miraculous.

“Hey,” Alex said, working his thumbnail under his beer label. “Did I tell you Brissoli’s being sued? By one of your party guests—the son of the judge, I think.”

“Good for him,” Dev said dully. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered if things might have turned out differently with Kiki if Brissoli had never happened. It should have been a perfect night—a gathering of Dev’s friends, along with Alex and his girlfriend Nicola, to celebrate his thirty-sixth birthday. The same night he’d been with Kiki. That part had been a dream, but the next morning they’d all been pitched into a cold and dark reality. John Brissoli, hungry for fodder for his celebrity-chasing website, had found the perfect target with Moretta. This tiny island of only ninety-two estates was where celebrities came to get away from the spotlight, and they paid dearly for that privacy, but occasionally the bottom-feeders still crawled onto land. Brissoli had not only crashed Dev’s party, he’d managed to get photos of several of the guests in compromising situations. Drugs, sloppy drunkenness, sex in risky places—he caught all of it that night, including footage of Dev and Kiki’s encounter in the studio. In the end he, Kiki and Alex had managed to head the disaster off, but it had taken a serious toll on all of them. Dev didn’t think it was any coincidence that he’d barely laid eyes on Kiki since.

“Just in time. I ordered you a margarita,” Alex said, looking up to greet Nicola. She kissed him passionately on the mouth and sank down into a chair between the two men. Dev gave her a quick grin to hide his irritation, which had nothing to do with Nicola herself. A month ago Alex had come to Moretta on business and ended up meeting his dream girl. It wasn’t that Dev wasn’t happy for them, it was just that things were so damned simple for Alex: meet a woman, decide she was the one, cue happily-ever-after.

Things could never be that easy for Dev. Being the fifth-bestselling recording artist of all time had always made relationships complex. In the beginning the female fans had done the trick, but he’d left that scene behind a while ago. Sure, he still let them hang around, but it was more out of habit—and loneliness, if he was completely honest with himself—than anything else. A stretch of celibacy had followed after that, when he found himself less willing to spend time with anyone he saw as temporary. Ready for a real relationship but without the right woman to fill the role, and that mostly came down to a matter of trust. Finding someone he wanted to go to bed with every night was one thing, but in his experience, finding a woman who wouldn’t fuck with either his head or his money was an even bigger problem.

Until Kiki. The girl who’d handled the sex-tape scandal like a pro, who clearly had no interest in fame or fast money, who’d been in his corner every step of the way. The girl he’d broken his year of celibacy for, who drove him to obsessive, cock-stiffening thoughts every night when he tried to sleep.

It was torturous.

“Alex tells me you’re off on tour in a few days,” Nicola said, plucking the menu from between the salt and pepper shakers.

Dev felt himself crash down to earth yet again. The tour. His heart slammed once, twice in his chest. “Yep,” he said with simulated lightness. “Back to the grind.”

“We’ll miss you.”

“Speak for yourself.” Alex grinned.

“Aren’t you supposed to be gone?” Dev asked his brother in annoyance.

“Nicola keeps asking me the same thing,” Alex said, cupping a hand around her face. “I’m still trying to convince her to move back to LA with me.”

Dev’s beer had arrived. He took a long swig and set the bottle back on the table, aiming his gaze at the view beyond the patio to calm his roiling gut. The clear Caribbean Sea lapped gently at the sandy white shore. Palm trees swayed to the mellow reggae music coming from the bar’s speakers. It should have been enough to soothe anyone’s frayed nerves, but none of it worked on Dev. He may have lived in paradise, but his mind was in hell.

His phone started vibrating on the table. He glanced down at the screen and almost laughed out loud. Bix Jenner. The guy’s timing was uncanny. Flipping his overgrown dark hair out of his face, Dev grabbed his phone and stood up. “Bix. Give me some good news,” he said as he strode toward the end of the deck.

“I didn’t need Viagra to bang my wife last night” was Bix’s gravelly response.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Dev replied with a grimace. Bix had managed Dev’s career since the day he’d called him up seventeen years ago and congratulated him for attracting the interest of the best manager in the business. Despite his immodesty, Bix’s claim wasn’t without truth, and Dev trusted him with his life. But Bix’s crass manner came with the territory, and even on a good day it grated on Dev’s nerves.

“You never did appreciate real humor, Stone.”

“It’s not that you’re not funny, it’s that I don’t believe you,” Dev responded dryly, hooking a flip-flop over the railing.

“You’re goddamn killing me. How about this, then—Jerry Farr’s guy is looking to move on. Said he’d take on the assistant job.”

Dev nearly dropped his phone. “What the fuck are you talking about? Vanessa’s got it covered,” he said, referring to his assistant of two years.

A beat. “You’re kidding me. She hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

“She quit. Sent her notice in three days ago. She really didn’t—?”

“Quit? Why the hell would she do that?”

“Wouldn’t give a reason. But between you and me, I heard she’s moving to France with her boyfriend.”

Dev slapped a hand to his forehead. Vanessa was the best assistant he’d had in a long time, and with their high burnout rate they were hard to come by. “Nice of her to clue me in. We kick off rehearsals in two days!”

“You don’t have to tell me. Lucky for you, your fairy godfather found you a solution before you even knew you had a problem.”

“I’ve met Jerry’s guy—he’s a wet freaking noodle.”

“A noodle’s better than jack shit.”

“Is that what your wife says, too?”

“Screw you, Stone. He’ll get the job done.”

Dev shook his head tiredly. “I’ll have to think about it.” He paused, considering his next question. When it came to his career, offers went one way—they came to him. But it was making him crazy that a producer had recently dangled a carrot and then never followed through. “Listen, you ever hear from Larry Weatherby again? He seemed pretty hot for me to write for a few of his artists a couple months ago.”

“Nah. Reality probably kicked in—someone as big as you, he had to know it was a long shot. Besides, you’ve got the tour to focus on now.”

Dev suppressed a sigh. He’d started his career by writing songs for other artists until Bix had taken him under his wing and brought him into the spotlight, insisting that Dev was way too talented and easy on the eyes to keep hidden. Bix’s promises of fame and fortune had all delivered, but sometimes Dev wondered if he would have been better off staying where he’d been. Even a platinum album at the age of twenty hadn’t settled the beast of anxiety he tangled with onstage each night. The voracious crowds he’d dreamed of as a kid had turned out to be the stuff of nightmares. It wasn’t always like that, of course. When he managed to control his nerves, the adrenaline high from a great show could leave him buzzed for hours afterward, better than any drug. But more often than not, touring meant sleepless nights of worry, a hammering heartbeat and cold shakes as bad as any junkie’s.

“Listen, Stone, I know what’s on your mind, okay?” Bix continued, as if he were right inside Dev’s head. “And I want you to take all that worry and put it into Uncle Bix’s back pocket. We’ll handle it—you and me. Don’t we always?”

“Sure,” Dev said flatly. It was true—Bix was the only person in the entire world who knew the price Dev paid to get up on that stage night after night, and he made sure he had everything he needed to get through it.

“I’ll see you in London. And, hey—nice job on the Rolling Stone piece. If that doesn’t put you down in history as rock god of the century, I don’t know what will. People are eating up the new album. They love it. They love you, and don’t you goddamn forget it.”

“Thanks, man,” Dev said, and hung up. He knew Bix’s assurances should make him feel better. In a world being taken over by rap, EDM and sugary pop, Under My Skin, his tenth rock album, was selling almost as well as his first. His career was a resounding success, the one thing in his life that he’d always been able to depend on. And he knew he had to take the good with the bad; it was time for him to go out there and be a superstar again.

Back at his table, Alex and Nicola were deep in conversation and his beer was still waiting for him. Dev traced a finger through the condensation. Enjoy it while you can, he thought. In a few days he’d have to stop drinking altogether if he was going to get through his tour alive. He brought the bottle to his lips.

Six weeks of anxiety-filled days and nights. A woman he couldn’t get out of his head. And now no assistant.

Dev drank long and deep.

Victoria O’Hare, Real Estate Agent.

Sitting in her golf cart outside Pablo’s, Kiki Becker stared down at the woman’s face on her phone. Blue eyes under wispy brows, a ski-jump nose and reddish bobbed hair. Did Kiki bear a resemblance to her, or was she just trying to see something that wasn’t there? Not knowing the answer to that question had been driving her crazy since she’d come across the photo a few days ago. A search of the website hadn’t revealed anything further about her other than her recent home sales, and there was nothing else on the entire internet about any Victoria O’Hare who looked like this woman. Her picture mocked Kiki, daring her to reach out—which was completely out of the question.

Kiki clicked her phone off and shoved it into her handbag. The emptiness swelled in her chest, spread to her belly, threatened to spill tears. But she would not succumb to it. She swung her legs out of her golf cart and walked toward the entrance to Pablo’s. It had taken all of her strength to drag herself to work, but at least today she had a plan. Three weeks of feeling down in the dumps, tossing and turning through the night and mainlining junk food had been more than enough for her. It was time to accept that there would be no encore to her encounter with Dev Stone and move on with her life. And she would do it the best way she knew how: by getting laid tonight.

Entering the noisy bar, Kiki did a quick scan for potential victims. Several heads turned her way that she supposed would do the trick. Eventually, she’d choose one on the criteria of being unattached, relatively sober and preferably on their way off the island in the next twenty-four hours. It was how she’d operated since she’d moved to Moretta after her divorce two years ago. Just because Dev Stone had brought her earth-shattering pleasure for one unforgettable evening didn’t mean she couldn’t return to her old ways.

Dev—damn him. Kiki pushed his face out of her mind as she lifted the door to the bar, praying he wasn’t here. She’d managed to avoid him almost completely since their night together had blown up in their faces, and she planned on keeping it that way. If she couldn’t have him for herself, the last thing she needed was a direct comparison to any other guy in this place.

Tossing her handbag under the bar, Kiki stole a quick glance at her reflection in the mirrored back wall. She’d spent the past three weeks in shorts and baggy T-shirts, forgoing her daily makeup routine and throwing her long hair into careless ponytails. With her plan in place this morning she’d made a bit of an effort, but the dark smudges under her eyes still revealed her truth. She looked like shit. Her skin was pale, and she’d put on a few pounds. It was the one thing she hated about her roommate, Nicola—while she lost her appetite under stress, Kiki reached for the late-night cookies as if she could tame the ugly monster that raged inside her with refined sugar. Crouching behind the bar, she slicked on some lip gloss, adjusted the straps of her sundress and stood up.

“Strawberry.”

Jesus. Dev was standing right in front of her.

Kiki’s groin went mushy as the memory of their entangled bodies came crashing over her. His kiss, demanding and soft at the same time. His eyes on hers as he’d latched his mouth on to her clit. His beautiful body and perfect cock, his urgent breath as he’d driven into her again and again, ripping sweet cries of ecstasy from her throat. The way he’d touched her like it meant something. As they’d lain on the sofa recovering, she’d seen it in his face—the same question she wanted to ask him: When can we do this again? The answer had been twenty minutes later, but even that hadn’t been enough for her. In a few short hours Dev turned her into an insatiable sex monster. She’d wanted to break all of her no-strings rules for him, and looking back, she was almost grateful for the near scandal that had derailed them the next morning. That whole experience had sucked her libido dry, which had probably saved her fucking life. Because Dev Stone was dangerous, addictive and a straight arrow to only one thing: heartbreak.

“Hey, rock star,” Kiki tossed out, reaching for a bar cloth to occupy her hands. But it was no use—she could feel her fingers trembling as they swept past his. Her cheeks were warm. She was certain her nipples were straining against her dress.

“You’ve been busy,” he said as he leaned into the counter. Those aqua eyes. That square jaw. That dark lock of hair that always flopped over his brow. She could smell his spicy aftershave, the same one that had been on her skin the next morning. Damn it.

“Busy avoiding you,” Kiki said, scrubbing hard at an invisible spot. “It’s a full-time job.”

“Then I’ll talk to your boss and get you fired.”

“Very funny,” she said when a snappy reply failed her. His eyes were all over her, devouring her—why? Dev was a rock star god who had his choice of any woman on earth. From where she stood, Kiki could throw a champagne glass at at least three gorgeous household-name females. And she was a divorced executive-assistant-turned-bartender from Atlanta, guaranteed to fall short of any man’s expectations.

“I was hoping you’d be in today,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?” she replied over the sound of the blood rushing through her ears. “And why is that?”

“You want the real reason, or the PC one?”

She stopped scrubbing. “Let’s start with the PC one.”

“My tour assistant quit today. I’m just gonna say it—I’m a little desperate for a new one. Any chance you’d consider taking the job?”

She put a hand out to steady the martini glass she’d almost knocked sideways. “The job?”

“Yeah.” Dev’s fingers skimmed hers as he reached out to catch the glass with her. She pulled back as they buzzed with electricity. “You’d be perfect for it.”

“I pop beer caps for a living, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“But you used to be an executive assistant.”

“I worked with CEOs. I don’t even know what a—a rock star assistant does.”

“That’s easy.” He winked. “Whatever I want you to.”

Her belly flopped over. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Why, Kiki? What are you so scared of?” Dev’s aqua eyes were unblinking. He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. It’s been three weeks, and I can still feel you under me. That’s the real reason I wanted to see you again, Kiki. I leave in two days, and I want to take the memory of you with me. I want to be inside you again. Don’t tell me you don’t want the same thing.”

Her knees unlocked, threatening to collapse her onto the floor. God, did he really just say that? She could feel her face overheating as she measured honesty against fake indifference. As usual, honesty won. “I do, Dev, trust me. But that’s not a road I can travel down.”

“Why not?”

“Because—because it’s just not. It’s complicated. And accepting a job where I had to work anywhere within a one-mile radius of you would pretty much undo me.”

“I feel like things would have been different if Brissoli had never happened.”

“They wouldn’t have been.”

“Why not?”

“Stop asking me that.”

He shook his head. “Even if I can’t have you, I still want your skills. What if I promised to keep anything personal out of it?”

Kiki laughed. “After what happened between us? I think that’s beyond wishful thinking.”

“Who said anything about wishing for it?”

“You see?” Kiki stopped the banter with a loud thud of a wine bottle. She poured a glass out and slid it to the end of the bar for pickup.

“I can be a perfect gentleman when I set my mind to it,” Dev persisted. “Even with you.”

“Jesus, would you stop? So I get to see you with your groupies instead? No, thanks.”

“It won’t be like that. How about this...” He laid his hands flat on the counter. “The first leg of the tour is six weeks long. You’re the boss. We keep it strictly business unless you decide otherwise.”

When she didn’t come up with an immediate protest, he pushed on. “Listen—I’ll pay you whatever you want. Have I mentioned where we’re going? We start in London. Then Paris, Italy, Germany. And then onto Australia. Sydney, Brisbane—”

Sydney. The word bounced around in Kiki’s head. Home to Webber Real Estate Agency, employer of Victoria O’Hare. A chance to solve the mystery. A chance to fill the empty ache that had been gouged into her at six years old.

But only maybe. Only if Victoria O’Hare was really who Kiki wanted her to be, which she probably wasn’t. And then there was the matter that she would be halfway around the world with Dev, a man she wanted to make her sex slave for all eternity. Who, in her most secret dreams, sang a song of his undying love to her.

Very bad idea.

“...anyway, you need a change,” Dev was saying.

Kiki felt her jaw tighten. Even if she did, the only person who was going to make that call was her. “How would you know what I need?”

“You moved from Atlanta to LA to go to university. You changed your major halfway through. You came here on your own two years ago. You switched from being an executive assistant to a bartender. Clearly you like to mix things up.”

Kiki couldn’t help her stunned look. On the night of his birthday party, Dev had been surrounded by groupies. Kiki hadn’t imagined he would even glance at her, but his eyes had stroked her all the way from her face down to her toes, lighting her body up like she’d been zapped with electricity. After that he’d suggested a walk on his private beach, and he hadn’t even made a move on her—instead he’d actually talked to her, asked her about her life and her family, until she’d grown weary of waiting and gone in for the kiss. She hadn’t imagined that he’d retained anything she’d told him, and yet he’d just recited most of it back to her. She squared her shoulders. “So, what—you think I’m just going to drop everything because Dev Stone asked me to? Sorry, but I’m not one of your worshipping fans.”

“Obviously.” He waited, sexy grin still in place, as if her protests were mere pebbles to kick away on her inevitable path to acceptance.

God, he was actually serious. It was true that Kiki had been a career girl once upon, making her way steadily up the ladder in LA, but that was before her ex-husband had crushed her dream of marital bliss and made building a new life her number one priority. She could see returning to the real world one day and starting over, but making the switch as Dev’s assistant? With him night and day, in hotel rooms with him, in his dressing room, on his tour bus, seeing him perform in all his hot glory?

“No way,” Kiki said firmly. “And that other thing you mentioned? That’s not going to happen, either. You’re leaving in two days, and I’m going to make it my mission to stay away from you until then. Just so you know.”

Dev gave her a slightly amused look, as if he knew something she didn’t, and then he slapped a hand down on the bar. “The offer is open until Tuesday morning.”

As Kiki watched him walk away and disappear into the crowd, she finally began to breathe normally again. His face remained etched into her brain, as did the words she knew she’d turn over in her head over and over again in bed tonight: I want to be inside you again. Dev Stone, the man who had ruined her for all others.

So much for getting laid tonight, Kiki thought.

CHAPTER TWO

ONLY SIX COOKIES LEFT? How the hell had that happened?

Kiki stared guiltily at the Chips Ahoy! package beside the open, crumb-riddled jar of Fluff on her coffee table. She didn’t even have the decency to binge on quality junk food—not that she had much choice. Her monthly shopping trip to neighboring Barbados was due next week, and in the meantime she was forced to make do with the paltry selection at the island’s tiny, overpriced grocery store.

A key rattled in the front door of her cottage and Kiki’s roommate, Nicola, walked in, trailed by Alex.

Kiki reached for another chocolate chip cookie.

Nicola gave Kiki a teasing smile as she tossed her work satchel onto the kitchen counter. “I thought you said you were cutting back?”

“This is me cutting back,” Kiki said grumpily, sinking her teeth into the dry, crumbly sweetness. She hoped to hell that enough time had passed since her recent crying jag to allow her face to return to normal. Nicola was the best friend she’d ever had; the women had known each other for a decade, meeting in LA long before Nicola had followed her to Moretta six months ago. And Kiki was genuinely thrilled that her friend had found true love with Alex, but she really didn’t feel like explaining herself to him or anyone else right now. She must have still looked a mess, though, because Alex cleared his throat as he stood at the door. “Nicola, didn’t you say you were out of coffee? I’ll just run out and grab some. Need anything else?”

“Nothing that comes from the store,” Nicola said, giving him a lingering kiss before he slipped out the door.

To her horror, Kiki felt tears pricking at her eyes again. What was it about her friend falling madly in love that made Kiki feel like a total loser? Just a month ago she’d been proud of her attachment-free sex life. And then Dev had come along. Now she knew for sure that she could feel the kind of mind-blowing passion she thought only existed for others, like Nicola.

And Kiki couldn’t have him.

“Okay,” Nicola said, kicking her flip-flops off and dropping down on the sofa beside Kiki. “Talk to me.”

“It won’t help,” Kiki said stubbornly, stuffing the last of the cookie into her mouth.

“Neither will eating your way into oblivion,” Nicola pointed out, using her toe to push the package away from Kiki. “Or keeping everything bottled up inside.”

Kiki snorted. “It’s kind of what I do—you should know that by now. Talking might help some people, but it doesn’t help me.”

“I guess that explains why we’ve been living together for nearly seven months and you still haven’t told me why your marriage ended,” Nicola said archly.

“I told you exactly what happened. Jack was a world-class prick,” Kiki responded, turning her face away. No—that was not a conversation Kiki was willing to have right now, if ever. “Anyway, it’s not true that I don’t tell you anything. I told you all about my sad-luck childhood that night we drank way too much tequila. And it didn’t make me feel any better, FYI. Just saying.”

“That’s because you had a hangover the size of planet Earth the next day. Just saying,” Nicola retorted. “Now tell me what’s going on with you. You’ve been acting weird ever since that night at Dev’s—which is understandable,” she added quickly. “I mean, I was traumatized, too. But it does make me wonder, is it those slimeballs that’ve still got you down, or is it Dev?”

“Dev? I’m a little smarter than that, but thanks. Even if I was looking for a boyfriend—which I’m definitely not—he’s pretty much the last person on earth I’d get involved with.”

“Oh, yeah? And why is that?”

“Why? Are you even—”

“Dev is a good guy, Kiki—he’s Alex’s brother! And you like him.” She shook her head. “I mean, have you ever noticed that the term rock star is not synonymous with single? Have you ever noticed that they get married and have kids just like everyone—”

Kiki felt herself flush. “Oh, my God! Will you please shut the fuck up?” She took a deep breath. Dev was only one of her problems, and Nicola clearly wasn’t going to let up until she spilled something to her. “Okay, fine. It’s...it’s my mother.”

Nicola looked at her in shock. “Your mother?”

Kiki nodded rapidly to stop the threatening tears. There were only three people she’d ever shared the story of her mother with—her ex-husband, her high school best friend Laina, and, during a late-night drinkfest years ago in LA, Nicola. “Yes. I... I think I might have found her.”

Nicola jumped up excitedly. “Oh, my God! Are you serious? That’s amazing! How? Where is she? Have you gotten in touch—”

“No, no, no.” Kiki waved an impatient hand. “This just came up. I found a website for a real estate agency, and one of the agents is named Victoria O’Hare. That’s her maiden name, and it’s possible she stopped going by Vicky. And—I don’t know, but there’s a photo of her. The last picture I have of her is from twenty-four years ago, but...this woman has red hair.” Kiki shook her head and then dropped it into her hands. “I’m terrified, Nic,” she said through her fingers. “Freaking terrified. I wish I never looked. I didn’t—for two years I didn’t, and then I had to go and start again.”

“That’s because she’s half of you,” Nicola said gently, placing a hand on Kiki’s arm. “You moved here to heal, but this place also allowed you to bury the things in your life you didn’t want to look at. But they come back—they always come back. You need closure with her.”

“But what if she wants nothing to do with me? I’m too scared to email her. What if she doesn’t write back? Or what if I scare her off and she goes into hiding again? What—what if she just doesn’t want to hear from me? I mean, she knows my name—she named me! If she wanted anything to do with me, she could have reached out anytime. It’s been twenty-four years, and nothing.”

“Oh, honey...” Nicola reached for her hand. “You for a daughter? She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Tears flooded Kiki’s eyes. “But that’s the whole point—she does! She’s the one who left me, remember? I was six years old. She knew exactly what she was doing.”

“But she didn’t leave you alone,” Nicola reminded her. “She knew you had your father, and he’s an amazing dad. Listen...” She tightened her grip on Kiki’s hand. “You need to meet with her in person—just show up at her work and force her to see you. I’ll go with you, okay? Where is she? She’s not still in Atlanta, is she?”

“That’s the thing.” Kiki shook her head in disbelief. “This woman is in Sydney, of all places. As in Australia. Which makes me think it can’t be her—why would she travel so far, unless it was to get as far away from me as possible?”

Nicola looked thoughtful. “Well, that is strange,” she admitted. “But it could happen. People end up all over the world for all sorts of different reasons. Just look at us—a couple of girls from the States. Who would have thought we’d end up living in the middle of the Caribbean?”

“Yeah, I guess so...” When Kiki pulled her T-shirt up to dab at her eyes, Nicola went to the kitchen to grab her a paper towel. Then she sank down on the sofa beside her again. “What?” Kiki asked when she felt her friend’s eyes on the side of her face.

“Just waiting, that’s all. There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“My God, you’re a pain in the ass.” Kiki sighed deeply. “Okay. This is kind of crazy, but Dev offered me a job today. His tour assistant just quit and he needs a new one. Would you please stop fucking smiling?” Kiki threw her hands up in annoyance. “I said no, of course. But here’s the crazy part. His tour will take him to Sydney. And I—I really can’t afford to go otherwise. I mean, to spend that kind of money to go and check out a remote possibility? It’s just not going to happen on my bartending tips.”

“So it’s a sign!” Nicola said, clapping her hands together. “Come on—you have to accept!”

“But I can’t! It’s—it’s Dev! We had a...a thing, and that messes everything up. I mean, watching him get swarmed by groupies for weeks on end? No thank you. And besides, I have a life here...” she ended weakly, thinking that did have a life here felt more accurate right now.

“Listen, sweetie. I know it might not be the perfect scenario, but this is a lifetime opportunity. Eventually you have to get back to the real world anyway, and this is your chance to start a new career. Remember—the Kiki I met in LA was a go-getter with big career goals! But more important, this is a chance to find your mother, and you can’t pass that up. No matter what may or may not happen between you and Dev,” she added when she saw the protest forming on Kiki’s face.

Oh, God. Nicola was right, Kiki knew, but just the thought of it—leaving the safety of her island world and her easygoing job, working side by side with Dev, confronting the woman who had abandoned her as a child—was enough to tie her stomach in knots.

“You are a survivor,” Nicola went on, her voice strong with emotion. “And you’ve never been one to take the safe route. Even if I don’t know the details of what happened between you and Jack, I know that by moving here and shaking your life up, you took a huge risk to find happiness. This might scare you more than anything you’ve ever done, but fear won’t stop you. It never has.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Brené Brown.” Kiki smiled weakly as a knock sounded at the door. Knowing it was Alex back from the store, she quickly flicked her tears away and ran a hand over her hair. Nicola rose to greet him, but though the aqua eyes belonging to the man on the landing were identical to Alex’s, this man had a power over Kiki that his brother didn’t have.

Dev.

“Hi there,” he said, transferring the Beats he was wearing on his ears to around his neck. His gaze rested on Kiki, making her belly flop over. “I hope I’m not...?”

“No, it’s fine,” Kiki said. Nicola stepped aside, and Dev walked over the threshold. There was a rock star in her house. Kiki almost laughed aloud as she cast a glance around, comparing her tiny combined kitchen, living and dining area to his sprawling beachside home.

“Listen,” he said. “I just—there was something I didn’t say to you today, and I couldn’t leave without being honest.”

“I think you were pretty damned honest,” Kiki said as she stood. “If I recall.”

Nicola grabbed her handbag from the coffee table. “I’ll just—”

“No,” Dev said quickly. “You’re her best friend, and I’m fine for you to hear this. Just...” He took a breath. “A tour is a really intense experience, and I need the right people to get me through it. I know I’ve just sprung this on you out of nowhere, but I want you to know that the real reason I want you with me is because I trust you. And that’s hard for me to come by.”

Kiki absorbed his words. “But...you don’t know me well enough to trust me.”

“I know, and that’s the crazy thing. I can’t explain it, but I felt it the moment I met you.” He shook his head. “I’m making this weird for you. I don’t want you to accept because you feel obligated to. But if you do, it’s your terms, okay? Business only—if that’s what you want.”

Kiki swallowed hard. There were so many reasons to accept and only one reason not to. But that reason was huge, because it was Dev. It would take every bit of her strength to make it to the end of six weeks with her virtue intact, not to mention her heart. The only way this would work would be for her to develop a resolve of steel.

Dev was looking at her with something close to pleading in his eyes. It’s still a no, she opened her mouth to say, but it didn’t come out. “I, uh...”

“—accept your offer, for double my regular salary,” Nicola coached her with a mischievous grin. “Right, Kiki?”

Kiki nodded slowly as Dev’s mouth turned upward into a grin. Holy shit—was she actually going to do this? “I guess so,” she said hesitantly. “But I’ll have to meet up with you in a week or so. I have to tie things up here, make sure my boss can get someone to cover for me...” She stopped when she saw the sheepish expression on Dev’s face. “What is it?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as if he were in pain, and then he directed them at the floor. “I might have just come from talking to him. And I might have also arranged to cover your portion of the rent while you’re away. Which means you can theoretically fly out with me on Tuesday...” He finally lifted his eyes to Kiki, cringing as if he expected her to hit him.

Which was exactly what she should do. She jumped up furiously. “You have got some nerve. Let’s make one thing perfectly clear, okay? You are not in charge in my life. And if you ever pull something like this again, I’ll be on the first flight back here—no matter where in the world we are.”

“Of course,” Dev agreed. “I’m sorry, I just, um...so this means I’ll see you on Tues—?”

Kiki made an exasperated sound in her throat and marched toward her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Then she leaned against it, trying to process what she’d just committed to. A new job. The possibility of finding her mother. And Dev...oh, God.

Just breathe. You’ll be fine. Just breathe.

Dev repeated the mantra in his head as he stood in the bathroom of the private Learjet 40 en route to London. But the familiar feeling of panic was setting in even earlier than it usually did. He hadn’t even begun rehearsals and he was already a mess. A month ago he’d entertained the idea that he might get through this tour drug-free, but the futility of that thought was now all too obvious. In his whole career, he hadn’t made it through a single performance without some kind of helper.

No point in suffering with relief so close at hand, Dev thought. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out the bottle of pills. He spilled them onto his hand and counted five. This batch was left over from his last tour, and the label informed him that the tablets had expired a month ago. But they would do until Bix gave him a new supply in a few days. Dev could always count on Bix to take care of the details. Sure, he could have gone to a doctor for the prescription himself, but that was how secrets got out—and this was one he planned on taking to the grave.

He dropped four pills back into the bottle and held one in his hand. Xanax. His little helper for the past three years, ever since he’d built up enough tolerance to Valium to make it lose its effect. On show night he’d mix it with two propranolol to get himself onstage, and more often than not he’d need to take an Ambien to come down afterward—the classic combo for anxiety-ridden housewives and celebrities that more often than not led to addiction.

But Dev couldn’t worry about that right now.

He knew that as long as he kept his helpers under control he’d be fine. He always got off the stuff as soon as his tours ended, and it wasn’t like he was doing real drugs. His were legal, regulated, doctor prescribed. He even avoided alcohol when he was on them like the label said. He was nothing like many of his peers, who combined booze with the hard stuff night after night. He may have done some of that indulging in his early days, but now he couldn’t imagine taking anything like that before a show—the drugs revved him up enough to keep him awake for hours afterward. That’s where the Ambien came in, and when he didn’t take it he paid the price. The dead of night was when the dark monster of his reality came crashing into his bed. Other musicians can handle the stage, so why can’t you? How long do you think you can go on like this before you’re hooked? the monster asked him with its ember eyes. Having a warm body in his bed had always helped keep the monster away—until about a year ago, when the emptiness he felt each morning when he awoke to women with names long forgotten was worse than any empty bed.

And then she’d come along. Kiki. Not only the hottest fuck of his life, but gorgeous, independent, totally unaffected and unimpressed by his career. Offering her the job had probably been a mistake. He’d be up close with her day after day, which meant his secret was in danger—and she was the last person on earth he wanted to discover it. He hadn’t been thinking straight that day in the bar, when he’d been overtaken with lust at the sight of her. And then he’d laid all that shit on her about trust. All of it was true, but it was a wonder she hadn’t run away screaming. People didn’t just come out and say things like that when they barely knew each other, but it was like she’d messed with all of his wires to turn him into a raging, sex-starved honesty machine. And the real hell of it was that she hadn’t said no to his strictly business proposal. All the same, he promised himself, he would leave it up to her—no matter how wild she drove him.

Dev left the bathroom, slipped the bottle of pills into his carry-on and walked back to his seat. Kiki was sitting exactly where he’d left her, deeply engrossed in her notes. God, but she was something. He knew she had to be at least a little dazzled by the private plane, but she hadn’t even commented on it. She may have been fiery, but she was also down-to-earth. Grounded. The exact opposite of him.

“It’s still four hours to London,” he said, sliding into the leather seat across from her. “It wouldn’t kill you to take a break.”

“I have a lot to learn to get up to speed,” she replied without looking up. “Now, where were we?”

“I was telling you about Bix. He’ll meet us for the first show on Sunday night,” Dev said, tapping two fingers on his armrest. They were seated across from each other with a small fold-down table between them. His legs were long enough that his knees would touch Kiki’s if they both faced forward, but she had angled hers away from him into the aisle. She was wearing a simple black dress that screamed First day on the new job, but its conservative cut was hopeless at hiding her sexiness. She still had her eyes aimed at her notebook, so he let his eyes drift down to her bare legs.

The crazy thing was that Kiki wasn’t even his regular type—he normally preferred his women tall and willowy. But Dev loved her tiny frame, the curve of her hips, the way her small breasts strained beneath her modest neckline. The way their bodies had moved that night had proven how perfect they were together. And now she was close enough to touch, not to mention all alone with him. When he thought about what they could be doing right now, what use they could make of the sleeping quarters—it was killing him.

“...road crew?”

He jerked his eyes up to find her looking at him expectantly, pen poised. Those wide blue eyes under delicately arched brows. That long hair falling over her breasts in a smooth curtain. The crease in her dress right between her legs.

Focus.

“Uh, yeah. You’ll meet them in London,” Dev said. “Scotty—my bassist—is flying in from Chicago today. He and Stuart will—”

“Stuart?” Kiki interrupted.

“My drummer. He’s flying into London from Brussels.”

“Got it. Speaking of which...” She lifted a sheet of paper up from the small table between them. “According to this itinerary, you’re staying at The Connaught with the rest of the band. Is that a mistake? I’d imagine you’d want to stay at home while you’re in town.”

Damn—she didn’t miss a thing. Dev had moved from LA to London a decade ago, but his Kings Cross penthouse felt less and less like home since he’d bought the house on Moretta. His flat screamed of the bachelor days and rock star nights of his twenties, and that just wasn’t where his head was anymore. “It’s just easier if the band is all together,” he said, which also happened to be the truth. “I’ll pop by at some point to make sure the place is still standing, pick up some clothes. By the way, we’re only staying in hotels in London and Paris. After the Paris show we move to tour buses for the remainder of the European leg. Once we’re in Australia we’ll be in hotels again.”

“I know. I’ve already confirmed all the bookings,” she said, glancing down at her notes. “What about rehearsals? I don’t see anything about that.”

“The three of us will spend the rest of the week rehearsing at Ryder Studios. We already put in a good round a month ago, so we’re pretty tight.”

Tight. Good God, could he really not say such a banal word without thinking about how Kiki’s pussy had felt around his cock? How old was he, fifteen? He seriously needed to get a grip, but now that the door had been opened, his cock was all in. All he could think about was stripping her down and fucking her until she screamed, flight crew be damned. He shifted in his seat to hide his raging erection. This line of thinking wasn’t going to help anything.

The drone of the engine filled the silence as a flight attendant entered the cabin. “Something to drink, Mr. Stone?” she asked, holding out a cheese board.

“A club soda, please,” Dev said, plucking a cracker and a wedge of Brie from the platter.

“What, no champagne?” Kiki asked without looking up. “Pretty impressive for a rock star.”

If you only knew, Dev thought. “Would you please stop calling me that?”

“What? Impressive?” She looked up at him under long lashes, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. He caught a brief glimpse of zebra-print panties.

He was going to fucking lose it. He hit a button on his armrest, filling the cabin with the sound of Coldplay.

Kiki tilted her head at him. “You don’t like silence, do you?”

Dev started. Didn’t he? He’d never thought about it before. “I’m a musician. I think it makes sense that I enjoy listening to music.”

Kiki gazed back at him until he felt like squirming. Her eyes held a knowing look, as if she could see all of his secrets. Like she knew shit about him that he didn’t even know himself. No one had ever known him like that, and it was unnerving.

Suddenly she stood up and stretched her arms to the sides. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m going to try out my bed.”

And with that she walked away, leaving Dev alone with his club soda and his tortured imagination.

CHAPTER THREE

BY THE TIME the night of the first show rolled around, Kiki was regretting the day she accepted her new job. The work was more demanding than she’d expected, but that wasn’t the reason. She’d assumed Dev would slip into a different persona when he was in celebrity mode—high-maintenance, egotistical, absent, no longer interested in her. She was wrong. Dev was exactly the same guy he’d been on Moretta: fun, relaxed, kind to his staff, a natural leader. It seemed like he was everywhere she was, and he always had that heart-stopping sexy smile for her. In the hotel elevator. At the catering table. At the rehearsal studio. And now backstage, where he’d winked at her as he passed her in the hallway. Every time his eyes met hers she felt like she’d been electrified—which made keeping her boundaries in place even more important. She couldn’t afford to weaken, especially now that she was on the road with him. Like it or not, Dev was a man she was willing to break her rules for, and Kiki knew exactly what would happen if she got involved with him—he’d leave her when he found out the truth about her, just like her ex-husband had.

So why hadn’t she made this arrangement strictly business when she had the chance? He’d put it out there—your terms—but she’d left it alone. Dev was a man of his word, and she had to admit that a part of her hadn’t wanted to shut that door completely.

She walked along the side of the hallway, trying to stay out of the human traffic jam. She knew Dev was in his dressing room. Her pulse quickened as she thought about the stage outfit she’d laid out for him an hour ago: a white button-down Armani shirt and black leather pants. The thought of seeing him onstage had her nerves on edge. But was it because she was about to witness the hottest performance on Earth, or because of what she was afraid might happen after it? Everyone knew that was when the groupies showed up. Dev might not flaunt them in her face, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that one night with her had changed his ways forever.

She reached the main artery of the backstage area, which was controlled chaos. Roadies shouted orders to each other, organizers zipped around with clipboards and iPads in hand, a bored-looking caterer tapped away on her phone behind a table laden with food. A heavyset man shouted loudly into his cell phone while he paced inches from Kiki’s toes. Scotty lounged on a nearby sofa, tossing Skittles into his mouth one by one while Stuart walked the floor in front of him, tapping a beat out on an invisible drum set. And above it all was the roar of the twenty thousand fans filing into London’s largest concert venue, O2 Arena.

Kiki was good at hiding her intimidation. Sinking down into a plastic chair, she took her phone out to tick the day’s tasks off: meals organized; media interviews booked for the following day; assorted shopping trips done; fan mail answered; backstage photos posted to Instagram and Twitter; a Snapchat story of the band warming up for the show made; water, towels and snacks set out for the band.

She was about to click her phone off when it rang in her hand. Laina Rose. Kiki grinned. Laina was her best friend from high school, and the whole reason she’d moved to Moretta in the first place. Her friend had grown up spending her vacations on the island with her super-wealthy family, so when Kiki called her in tears after Jack left her, Laina had come to her rescue by offering her the guesthouse on her parents’ estate. Kiki had thought she’d spend a few weeks there recovering, but instead she’d found herself getting a job at Pablo’s and renting a staff cottage. Laina had visited her several times over the years, always staying with Kiki instead of at her family estate. Laina was one of those rare people who chose to separate herself from her family’s wealth, but Kiki knew there was more to the story than that.

Standing up, she glanced around for a quiet place to talk. She hadn’t spoken with her friend since she’d announced her engagement, one that Kiki proudly took credit for because it was she who’d introduced the pair back in Atlanta. Wedding chatter wasn’t number one on Kiki’s list right now, but a little girl talk might get her mind off things...like Dev.

Kiki dashed into an empty bathroom and closed the door behind her, dulling the sound of the mayhem. “Banger!” she said when she picked up, using Laina’s old high school nickname.

“Mash,” Laina replied dully.

Kiki gripped the phone. “What’s wrong?”

A sniffle, and then she blurted, “He fucked another girl in our bed, Kiki.”

Kiki’s blood froze in her veins. “What?” she gasped.

“I caught them. And then he tried to blame it on me.” Laina let out a choked sob.

Kiki slapped her hand down on the sink. “Oh, my God. The fucking prick! I am so, so sorry, honey.”

“Me, too.”

“And I introduced—”

“Stop. It’s not your fault. It’s—it’s better this way. He said I was boring in bed, Kiki. It’s better that I found out what a cocksucker he is now.”

Kiki inhaled deeply to settle her boiling blood. What Jack had done to her had been scathing, but she couldn’t imagine the intensity of what Laina had just experienced.

“Tell me what I can do for you, Laina. I’m not on Moretta right now, but I’m here for you. Do you need anything?”

“You mean besides something to castrate Ward with? No, I’m good. Just—I need to get away. Are you up for a visit?”

“Of course! Except that I’m away for another five weeks,” she added guiltily. Laina had been a rock-solid friend to her when she desperately needed one, and it bothered her that she couldn’t reciprocate in the same way.

There was a pause on Laina’s end. “Five weeks? Where are you?”

Not now. Revealing where she was would lead to a conversation about Dev and/or her mother, and this wasn’t the time or place. “Long story. This is about you, honey. Can you come in late November?”

“I’ll have to check with my boss. She’s a bit of a bitch.”

At least her sense of humor was intact; Laina had started her own architecture firm two years ago. “That’s not what I’ve heard about her,” Kiki replied. Then she fell silent, wishing there was a sure way to convince her friend that everything would turn out fine. But she remembered what it was like to be in her shoes, and she knew that the only real cure was time.

And that as soon as she got over him, the next complication would enter her life.

“Ten minutes,” a male voice crackled in Kiki’s back pocket. Damn it—she’d forgotten about her walkie-talkie, and part of her job was to keep Dev on schedule. She killed the volume and turned her attention back to Laina.

“It’s going to be alright, okay? I promise. And you are not boring in bed.”

Laina managed a laugh. “How would you know?”

“Because Ward seems pretty damned boring himself, if you ask me. Someday you’ll meet a real man, and...” Dev’s face filled her head. That’s what he was, wasn’t he? One of only a few real men out there. Or maybe that was just what she wanted him to be.

“And what?”

“Nothing. You just focus on you right now, okay?”

“Okay,” Laina sniffed.

After she hung up, Kiki made her way to Dev’s door, preparing herself for the onslaught on her senses. And sure enough, her breath caught in her throat when he appeared. He looked every inch the rock god he was and more. His dark hair was mussed and his shirt was left open at the top, revealing a hint of his muscled chest. She could smell his aftershave, that ever-present reminder of the traces he’d left on her skin. Against her will, her eyes dropped to his leather pants. She felt a jolt shoot straight to her pussy at the sight of his generous bulge.

Stop it.

But her face was already flushed. Damn, but being a redhead was an unfair disadvantage.

Through the walls, the crowd had reached a fever pitch. “Twitch! Twitch!”

“It sounds like they’re ready for you,” Kiki managed. “What’s that all about?”

Dev leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “Just a nickname. Maybe because I like to play my guitar hard and fast.”

His aqua eyes caressed her body, telling her exactly how he’d rather be applying those two adverbs. She could feel the heat creep down from her cheeks to her breasts.

Cool it.

She tried for a casual stance, hands in front pockets. “So, uh...you good to go? I mean, do you have a routine you like to do before you go onstage or anything? I’ve heard some musicians like to do scales, tai chi, snort a few lines, whatever...” She cringed as she trailed off. Did she really just say that? She was nervous as hell, and she always babbled and said stupid shit when she was nervous.

And yet Dev, the person who should be nervous, seemed perfectly calm. “Never readier,” he replied with a wink—the same two words she’d spoken right before he drove his cock inside her for the first time. Jesus. He wasn’t making this easy.

In her peripheral vision, Kiki saw a crew member approach. “Hey, Chester,” Dev said when he stopped near them.

“Hey. Bob was wondering if you wanted us to scout for you tonight. He just took a walk and said to let you know there’s plenty of good material in the crowd.”

“Nah, I’ll pass. Just like I did on the last tour,” Dev replied pointedly, his eyes never leaving Kiki’s.

Kiki watched as Chester took his baseball cap off and replaced it on his head, turning the visor backward. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, as if waiting for Dev to come to his senses. “You sure, man?”

“Sure of what—that he’s the best goddamned musician since Springsteen?” a man said as he appeared beside Dev. Kiki felt herself stiffen. It was the heavyset guy with the cell phone she’d noticed earlier. He wore his long white hair slicked back, and his paunch strained at his shirt buttons.

“Bix, it’s about time,” Dev said, giving the man a back-pounding embrace. “Bix, I’d like you to meet Kiki Becker. Kiki, Bix is my tour manager.”

Kiki nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine,” Bix replied, but his eyes only lit on her briefly. She watched as Chester cleared his throat, trying to remind Dev of his presence. It was an interesting hierarchy dance, Kiki observed—Chester was clearly at the bottom, and a minute ago she would have put Dev at the top. But Bix’s entrance into the picture had made her less certain of that.

Dev turned to Chester. “Thanks, man—I’m all good.”

“Hey, you’re the boss.” Chester shrugged and turned away. Bix’s cell phone rang, and after he walked off, Kiki burst out laughing. “‘Plenty of good material’?” she said to Dev. “I take it that’s code for hot chicks.”

“I would never use such a disrespectful term,” Dev replied. “But yes. There is a certain tradition among certain musicians that involves inviting a certain type of female backstage. It’s not something that interests me.”

“No?”

“Anymore,” he clarified with a smile.

Kiki gave him a skeptical look. “So all those lovely ladies I see you around the island with are—what, your sisters?”

He grinned. “Just because I let them hang out with me doesn’t mean I let them into my bed. But point taken. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Kiki busied herself with adjusting her necklace. So she wasn’t going to be tortured by the sight of him with another woman...not tonight, at least. But how long would he hold out? The guy was only human, after all.

“Listen,” she said hesitantly. “I, um... I just want you to know you don’t have to do this. This is a professional relationship, and—”

“Is it?” His aqua eyes bored into hers.

“Um...” Yes. Just say it and everything will be so much simpler, she thought. “Well, I think it’s easiest if we just... I mean... I have no expectations,” she stammered.

That sexy smile. She wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor. “I appreciate that,” he said, stepping a little closer to her. The crowd had grown louder than ever with their frenzied chant, forcing Dev’s lips to her ear so he could be heard. “There’s just one problem.”

He was so close she could feel his breath on her face. Toothpaste and lemon. She wanted to brush against his mouth with her fingers, feel him suck them before she replaced them with her hungry lips. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. The only woman I want is you,” he whispered, sending shivers down her spine.

Kiki swallowed hard. She finally turned to face him, but he was already backing away from her with his arms over his head. He gave his hands three loud claps in the air. “Alright. Let’s fucking do this!” he shouted. A roadie handed him a guitar, and then Dev slipped the strap over his head, ran up the steps and disappeared through the stage door.

Blinding strobe lights. Sweat dripping from his face. Stuart pounding the drums, Scotty beside him on the mic. Lightning ripping from his fingertips on the guitar. The whole scene magnified behind him on a massive screen. And the feverish crowd, the lifeblood of every show, singing every word along with him. This was one of the moments Dev could acknowledge that the dreams of a ten-year-old boy with an air guitar and a bed for a stage had come true. If only they weren’t so few and far between.

The encore was the one time onstage Dev could actually enjoy himself. During that short golden window between having the worst behind him and the end in sight, he suddenly felt like he could play all night. By all accounts, his first performance of the Up All Night World Tour had gone well. Along with his little helpers, his usual coping mechanisms had worked. He’d launched into his first song, “It All Starts Here,” with his back to the audience, only turning around two choruses in when his hands finally stopped shaking. The wild cheers when the crowd saw his face assured him that his secret was safe; they thought it was all part of the act. After that he’d kept his eyes either on his guitar or on the front row of the crowd, and by the third song he was nearly relaxed enough to give the audience what they wanted: everything. All of him. His very flesh, heart and soul. And though his stomach still churned, he’d done it. Worked the stage, riffed with his bandmates, sung hard. He’d never gotten used to having his every move blown up a thousand times, but when he caught a glimpse of himself onscreen he looked okay. He looked perfectly in control. And now here he was on his last number of the night, “Stand Your Ground,” one of his midcareer chart-topping ballads that always got the audience singing along. As Dev drew out the last, endless note, twenty thousand cell phones glowed back at him. Only then did he allow his eyes to lift to the back of the stadium, where they settled on the reassuring sight of a fully packed house.

It was over. Relief pulsed through his body as he ran off the stage with his guitar. A waiting roadie took it from him and handed him a bottle of water. He took in the compliments.

“Great show, man.”

“You killed it.”

“They loved you.”

The voices and the roar of the crowd fell away as he looked into the darkness backstage.

Where is she?

Dev’s eyes finally adjusted, and he saw her near the back wall. She was turned away from him in conversation with a crew member, allowing him a perfect view of her beautiful ass. Predictably, his cock jerked in his pants. Dev took two steps toward her—and caught his foot on a cable, sprawling him across the wooden floor. “Goddamn it!”

His left elbow throbbed dully as two crew members ran over to help him up to his feet. His first reaction was embarrassment, but then the monster was right up in his face. That’s what Xanax does to you, Stone—makes you clumsy. Maybe you should have stuck with one.

But he’d needed two tonight, and anyway, that was only the paranoia speaking. Someone had forgotten to cap the cable, that was all. It could have happened to anyone.

“Are you okay?” It was Kiki, looking at him with concern.

“Just a little bump on my pride,” he replied, though his elbow hurt when he stretched it out.

“Let’s get you into your dressing room.” Placing a hand on his good arm, Kiki gave him a gentle push toward the door that led backstage.

The roadies trailed after her. “Should we call a medic?” one of them called.

“I’ll let you know,” Kiki responded, leading Dev through the door. They crossed the hallway and entered his dressing room. “Sit down. I’m going to roll up your sleeve and take a look.”

“Look, if you want to undress me, all you have to do is—”

“No jokes, okay? There might be some swelling happening here.”

“You’re telling me.”

Fuck. What was wrong with him? He was acting like a juvenile, and Kiki looked suitably annoyed. But, Jesus, how was she so resistant? “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dev said. “I’m always a little wingy after a show. I make dumb jokes, say the wrong things.”

“Why don’t you just stop your spewing so I can take a look?”

Dev held his arm up obediently. He watched as her pink-tipped nails pushed his sleeve up. She’d worn a similar shade of polish that night, when she’d wrapped her hands around his cock and stroked him until he was ready for round three. And then she’d taken him in her mouth and sucked him until his entire world had tilted on its side.

Dev saw Kiki’s eyes drop to his pants. There was no hiding it anymore—he was rock hard for her. She licked her lips and met his eyes.

“Dev, I—” Kiki dropped his arm and took a step back. It was the only thing she could do to avoid climbing into his lap and rubbing herself against his cock like a desperately horny I’ll-do-everything-but-that virgin. Her panties were wet. She’d never wanted anyone so badly, and it all had started the moment she’d seen him onstage. Ninety minutes of excruciating torture where she’d imagined every sweet thing she’d love to do to him after the show. Certain she wouldn’t be able to resist him if he so much as breathed on her again. Dangerous. Addictive. So fucking sexy. And such a bad idea.

Both of their sanities depended on her getting her head straight right now.

Dev pounded his good fist onto his thigh and flung himself out of his chair. “Jesus, Kiki! Fuck! This is messed up! You want me, I want you, we both know—”

“Don’t fucking tell me what I know!” she shouted. He looked at her sharply, and she took a breath. Her anger had taken her by surprise as much as it had him, and it wasn’t his fault. She was pent-up, frustrated, desperate to act on the feelings she knew they both had. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t worth sticking around for—she knew it as well as she knew her own name—and she wasn’t prepared to have her heart shattered again. “I get it, okay? No woman on earth has ever refused you.”

Dev raked a hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was low and furious. “That is not what this is about and you know it. Stop throwing that shit in my face, Kiki. How many times do I have to tell you it’s you that I want?”

She turned her face to the side. “This was a mistake. I never should have accepted the job.”

Dev bent down so his face was inches from hers. “Then define it, Kiki,” he said between gritted teeth. “Tell me you never want me to fuck you again right now, and I’ll be all business from this moment on.”

Kiki lifted her chin. “I’m not going to lie to you, okay? I’d love nothing more than to be with you. But you have to stay away from me, Dev. Believe me, it’s better for both of us.”

Dev didn’t move a muscle. She stared back at him, not daring to let her chilly expression melt.

The door flung open. Kiki glanced toward it and saw Bix striding toward them with an ice pack in his hand. “You okay, buddy? I heard you took a spill. Not going to affect your guitar playing, I hope?”

Dev returned his gaze to Kiki. “I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it,” Bix said, slapping the ice pack on Dev’s arm. “’Cause you got a hot lineup outside just dying for a piece of you.”

Kiki searched for her voice. Never mind Bix’s ill timing—her job was to look after Dev, and it was time for her to be professional. “Dev really isn’t in any shape to be meeting anyone right now.”

The smile dropped off Bix’s face. “He just said himself he’s fine. And here’s the thing—autographs make for happy fans, happy fans tell their friends, they all buy more records, and that—”

“Let them in,” Dev interrupted, his eyes still boring into Kiki’s. “Go ahead. I’m happy to meet them. And, Kiki, I’d like you to stay.”

Panic filled her chest. She’d shut him down once and for all, and now he was going to show her exactly what she was missing. As her feet stayed rooted in place, she realized she was holding her breath. This is going to be so bad.

Bix opened the door, and two burly men leading a barrage of skimpily dressed women streamed into the room. Kiki was sure they’d crush Dev completely if it weren’t for the handlers, who stood protectively in front of him and shouted for the fans to approach one at a time. The room was so small that Kiki had to practically push herself against a wall to avoid getting crushed. She tried to catch Dev’s eye as he signed autographs with his good hand and smiled for selfies, but it was as if he’d already forgotten about her. Oh, God, what have I done?

Finally, Dev stood up from his chair. A few of the pushier ladies crowded in even closer to him, cleavage and pouting lips on full display like a Discovery Channel mammalian mating ritual.

Kiki couldn’t stand it any longer. Looking for an opening in the throng, she started pressing her way toward the door. She was almost there when she heard Dev’s voice behind her.

“Thanks for coming in, ladies,” he said. “Kiki will show you out.”

She froze, meeting his eyes as the women reluctantly started filing out the door. Several of them threw her jealous glances as they left, and she couldn’t help it—she felt a surge of power. It was written all over Dev’s face—it was her he wanted. Kiki Becker, strawberry blonde, freckled, currently several pounds over her ideal weight—and he wanted her.

Even if she could never let him touch her again.

When the room was clear, Dev slowly walked toward her. Kiki watched him approach, pressing herself backward again. He stepped close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, and then there was nowhere for her to go. He placed his good hand on the wall right beside her shoulder, and then he reached up to brush a strand of hair off her face. He smiled sadly at her. Then he pushed himself off the wall and left the room.

CHAPTER FOUR

“DID YOU SAY PARIS? You must mean the town in Texas, right?” Kiki’s father, Lawrence, chuckled over the phone.

“No, Dad, I mean the real deal,” Kiki said. Moving toward the window of her hotel room, she pulled the gauzy curtains wider to take in the nighttime view. The Eiffel Tower, lit up in the dark, was framed in the distance as perfectly as a postcard. She still couldn’t believe she was in the city she’d only ever dreamed of going to, staying at the famous Hotel George V no less. If only she could be experiencing its romance with Dev at her side instead of just in her head.

She banished the thought.

“I wish I could show it to you, Dad. Do you know what I had for lunch today? Two chocolate croissants. Well, it might have been three—”

“Three croissants, huh?” Lawrence cut in. “Is that just ‘when in Rome,’ or has something got you stressed out?”

Kiki sighed; she should have known she couldn’t get one by her father, who understood her better than anyone on earth. It was 5 p.m. back in Atlanta, and Kiki could just picture him sitting in his favorite armchair with his Time magazine and his black coffee. She could see the lines around his eyes that fanned out like rays of sunshine, the head of hair that was now fully gray. Looking at photos of him from when she was a toddler, it was hard to believe the person with the smooth skin and sandy hair holding her up like a prize was the same man. She knew her mother’s departure had aged him, even if he rarely talked about it. Lawrence Becker was a man of action more than words; when it became clear his wife wasn’t coming back, he’d simply risen to the task, doing his best to raise his only child on his own until he’d eventually remarried.

Kiki sighed. “I’m fine, Dad. My new job is...interesting. It’s just...” She paused, wondering how much she should say. Though she longed to spill her guts to someone about Dev, that was a conversation better saved for a girlfriend. But there was something else on her mind that she knew she could unload on her father. “This is a little crazy, but I found a woman who could be Mom. I haven’t reached out to her yet, but I will soon. And I guess I’m a little scared.”

Kiki knew there would be silence, but it seemed to stretch on forever. “Well. I know how important this is to you,” Lawrence replied finally. “I’ll say what I’ve always said about it—that if you find her, your life will never be the same. That’s not necessarily good or bad. Just be prepared, that’s all. She might not be what you’re expecting.”

“I know. And this woman is in Sydney, so it’s probably a dead end.” She hesitated. “Unless—unless you can think of any reason she’d end up there?” Kiki knew the question was as good as hypothetical, but she still had to ask it. Her father had always refused to say much about her mother—especially when it came to possible reasons for her leaving them—and while she admired his neutrality, she sometimes wished he’d be more forthcoming.

“Nothing comes to mind, honey. Sydney isn’t a place she ever mentioned.”

Kiki nodded resignedly. “That’s what I thought. But since I’m going to be there anyway...”

“Indeed. It’s worth a try.” When he paused, Kiki knew the subject was closed. “Deirdre will be sorry to have missed you,” Lawrence said after clearing his throat. “Why don’t I have her call you when she’s back from the library?”

“No, Dad, it’s okay. It’s almost midnight here and I have an early morning.” Kiki sank down on her bed, trying to ignore the familiar tug of guilt she always felt when it came to her stepmother. Her father had married Deirdre when Kiki was ten, and she’d tried hard to form a bond with her stepdaughter. But back then Kiki was still convinced her mother would return and that when she did, Deirdre would go right back to where she came from. And though logic and reason told her adult self that it was a ridiculous notion, wasn’t there a tiny part of her that still wanted it to be so?

After she hung up, Kiki sat on her bed staring at the wall in front of her. She’d booked the hotel rooms, so she knew Dev was on the other side of it.

Or was he?

She’d been avoiding him as much as she could since that night in his dressing room. It was an impossible situation. Sleeping with him again was sure to end in heartbreak, and watching him move on would be excruciating—either way, she lost. But she had to stop kicking herself for getting into this situation and keep her eye on the prize: Sydney.

Dev started awake from a thin sleep. How long had he been out? His bedside lamp was aglow and the Netflix show he’d been watching was still playing, showing a young couple in the middle of an argument. He’d probably only dozed off for a few minutes, as per his regular pattern of sleeping and waking throughout the night after a show.

Staring up at the ceiling, Dev focused on making sure his head was straight. One by one he recited the facts. He was in Paris. Tonight’s audience had been wild enough to get security involved when two women tried to climb the stage. His hand had been sore, so he’d taken a non-opioid painkiller along with his usual pills. After the show he’d downed two bottles of water and greeted a few VIP fans. Then he’d taken a limo to the George V for his last night in a hotel; as of tomorrow the band would be using their tour buses for the remainder of the European dates. And even if the idea of being on a metal tube for hours on end filled him with dread, at least it was familiar. It was something a little closer to home than this damn hotel room.

An Ambien would put him out. He should take one, he thought. But the fact that he hadn’t cracked that bottle yet felt like a small victory—even if it meant lying in bed drowning in regret and self-doubt. He gave his pillow a hearty punch and closed his eyes, wishing for oblivion. But instead, memories of his first tour tumbled through his head. Twenty years old, nearly a solid year on the road, homesick and scared shitless. After his first show, he’d learned to dull his nerves with whatever he could get his hands on to keep from disappointing anyone. He’d discovered that there were so many people to keep happy—his record label, his booking agent, his business manager, his tour manager, his fans, the press. He would have dropped out right then and there if it hadn’t been for the money he owed his record label. Something no one had told him before he got famous was that the million-dollar advance that had seemed so huge would get eaten up by recording fees, management, lawyers and taxes, leaving him with almost nothing. On the day his first album went platinum, he had less than five thousand dollars in his bank account and an increasing debt to his record label, forcing him to continue touring to pay it off. After that he’d figured out that even the most successful musicians didn’t get wealthy by playing music—they got it by accepting endorsements. Pushing everything from watches to guitars to foreign cars were what had padded his bank account over the years. That took care of his money troubles, but nothing could fix the homesickness and loneliness.

Dev opened his eyes again. On TV, the same couple who had been arguing were now furiously ripping each other’s clothes off, evidently having made up. Dev nearly groaned aloud. For a guy with a near-fucking-permanent hard-on, a year and a half minus his one night with Kiki was a hell of a long time to go without. Sometimes he thought it would be easier to just go back to his old ways, when he’d stay up all night partying with the band and fans before taking his pick from the gorgeous women presented to him to bring home. But everything had changed. After the shows everyone went home to their families now, even Scotty and Stuart, who got on to FaceTime with their wives and kids the moment they could escape. But for Dev, after being showered by attention all day long, home was an empty hotel room or tour bus. And he was so goddamned tired of it. He wanted his room, his bed, his life to be filled with another body—with her body. He rolled sideways, grabbed a pillow and chucked it across the room in frustration. The monster was raging hard in his head tonight, and fans were such an easy Band-Aid. They threw their numbers at the handlers, who always tucked them into their pockets for their own use if Dev wasn’t interested. One phone call to Chester would be all it took. Within thirty minutes, he could have three women in his bed if he wanted to.

Fuck it. He wasn’t going to get through to Kiki.

Or was he?

Dev sat up in bed. He knew one sure way to find out.

CHAPTER FIVE

KIKI WAS AFRAID she might get sick.

Bringing a hand to her stomach to steady herself, she left her tour bus and started across the underground parking lot of Milan’s San Siro Stadium. The last person in the world she wanted to see right now was Dev, but unless she was prepared to get on a plane back to Moretta she had little choice. Her job revolved around him, and she wasn’t about to sacrifice her entire reason for coming on the tour when Sydney was just around the corner. So she would face him and get her revenge by pretending his little stunt last night hadn’t even bothered her. She’d dressed for the occasion in a plunging V-necked pink sweater, a short denim skirt and knee-high boots. Her plan was to make Dev feel like the shit stain he was by being her usual friendly self with a little added sexiness, and then tonight she’d have a little fun herself. There were plenty of hot guys around—she was in Italy, for Christ’s sake, where she couldn’t cross a street without twenty men tripping over their dicks at the sight of her.

So she told herself, but Kiki had never been good at tough self-talk. Her heart hammered with each step that brought her closer to him. She tried to calm herself by listening to the sound of her heels clicking across the concrete. The bus drivers, off duty until the end of the show, leaned against a pillar smoking cigarettes. She was still recovering from her first tour bus commute, which had taken nine hours and all of her strength to refrain from strangling her twelve fellow crew members.

The buses themselves were built for comfort—hers even featured an entire second floor for the sleeping quarters—but the living space made for a forced sociability that was absent on airplane travel. Upon arrival, she’d barely ejected herself from the bus when the crew swung into high gear. The logistics that went into getting a show up and running were mind-boggling. Dev traveled with a convoy of eight tour buses to transport his team of nearly a hundred people including audio, video, stage and lighting managers, riggers, technicians, carpenters, electricians, wardrobe, security, catering and management staff. The equipment arrived separately and was met by a locally hired crew of workers at each city, who had to work at a relentless pace to get everything ready on time. Right now the crew was setting up inside, and Stuart and Scotty had chosen to hang out in their bus until showtime. But Dev was waiting for her in the building, and as Kiki headed up the stairs to the backstage maze, her stomach twisted hard enough to make her whimper aloud.

She fucking hated him.

Last night, as the first moans of passion had reached her ears, she’d thought she was literally going to vomit. Even if she had told him he needed to stay away from her, she’d also admitted how much she wanted him—and he’d slapped her right in the goddamned privates with it. As she lay in bed listening to the agonizing sound of his desire for someone else, she told herself that she’d been right all along. She’d known he’d go back to his old ways, and the only thing that had surprised her was the dizzying heights of his insensitively.

She clacked up the stairs and wove her way through the hive of backstage activity to Dev’s dressing room. Then she smoothed her hair over her shoulders, willed her heart to stop beating like a war drum and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Dev shouted. She entered the room and forced a carefree smile.

Dev was sitting on a sofa, casually strumming an acoustic guitar as if he hadn’t busted her world apart last night. She took in his dark jeans, his studded belt and bare torso. Against her will, her eyes fell from his broad shoulders to the light hair on his pecs. To her fury, she felt a jolt shoot straight to her clit. How could she possibly still be attracted to him after what he’d done?

Kiki pulled her iPhone out of her handbag. She’d been planning to put on a bit of a show—look at him under long lashes, slide a hand suggestively up her thigh to remind him of what he’d never have again—but now that she was here it was all she could do to stay upright. Her emotions had her in complete turmoil. For the first time ever, she found herself wishing for the game-playing revenge skills she knew some women possessed. “Uh,” she began awkwardly. “We didn’t have time to do a post before last night’s show. A quick shot of you on your guitar is fine.” She lifted her phone, ready to take the picture and make a dash for the door, but Dev put his instrument aside and walked over to her.

“I can’t get my photo taken,” he said, stopping right inside her personal space. “I’m not even dressed.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, willing them not to drop to his chest, his biceps...the same body he’d shared with someone else last night. Fuck him. He’d known she was in the next room, and whatever their relationship may or may not be, what he’d done was downright cruel. Worse, he’d ruined the memory of their one beautiful night together. To Kiki’s horror, she felt tears spring to her eyes. She blinked them back furiously and held her phone up in front of Dev’s face. “Then tell your manager that—he requested it.”

Dev flicked his gaze to the text from Bix: Get Dev in his DR for snap. “Bix would have me promoting myself while I sat on the toilet if he could,” Dev responded.

“Have it your way.” She was turning toward the door when Dev caught her by the arm.

“Hey—”

Kiki ripped out of his grip. “Do not fucking touch me!” She was shaking with a fury she didn’t even know she had in her. Dev’s face registered shock as she backed away from him. “I actually thought you were a great guy. To think that—that I had feelings for you! That I actually thought our night together was something special!”

“Kiki—”

“And then you fuck someone in the room right beside me? And you don’t even have the decency to keep it quiet? You knew I was next door! Jesus Christ! I was so wrong about you!”

“But I—”

“Groupie days behind you? As if! Maybe you can fool yourself into thinking you’ve changed, but it’s pretty obvious that once you’re back on the road you haven’t! How can you even—?”

“Kiki, please! Stop! I was an asshole, okay? I went too far.” She paused her tirade long enough to see that he had real regret in his face—as if that could make a difference. “Yes, you did, and you’re despicable,” she spat as her walkie-talkie blared to life.

“Thirty minutes,” came a male voice from her back pocket. Kiki pulled the device out. “Copy that,” she said, and then she shoved it away again and went for the door handle.

“Wait. Please.” Dev’s voice was pleading. “It was stupid. I just... I don’t know, I thought it might remind you what you were missing out on.”

The fucking audacity. Her jaw dropped as she turned back to him. He was looking down at his cell phone, swiping at the screen furiously. “What I was missing out on?”

“Yeah. Here.” Dev hit a button on his phone and held it up. On the screen was a bird’s-eye view of a woman straddling a man, going for it full throttle. And the sex sounds were the exact same ones she’d heard last night. “It was a movie,” he said sheepishly. “I might have cranked the volume up a bit. It was a total jackass thing to do.”

“You...?” Kiki brought a hand up to her mouth as her mind busily reordered everything she’d believed. So he hadn’t slept with anyone, but—“You tried to trap me?”

“I just wanted to know if you care, okay? I’m so—Jesus Christ, Kiki! I’m so fucking frustrated!” He punched his phone through the air.

Kiki wasn’t sure if it was because of relief or anger, but the tears she’d been holding back started spilling over. She did care—of course she did. And it had never been more apparent than in the past ten minutes. “So am I, Dev. And I...” A tear tracked down her cheek. He reached out and traced it with a finger, and then he slipped a hand under her chin. His eyes probed her face.

“What is it?” he asked.

Kiki’s chest filled with emotion. His voice was so gentle, gentle enough to make her want to spill all her secrets. She couldn’t do that, but she also couldn’t deny her desire for him any longer.

Standing on tiptoe, she reached up and pressed her lips to his. His mouth stayed firm for a moment, like he was waiting to see if she was really sure about this. And that just made her want him more. That he hadn’t made a move on her. That he’d been totally respectful of her, even if he couldn’t help what might have gone on in his pants. And that he’d gone about trying to prove her feelings for him in such a ridiculous, juvenile way.

She broke away from him and started laughing. Dev looked at her in surprise, and then he started laughing with her. He picked her up and lifted her off the floor, burying his face in her hair. “Jesus, Strawberry, what are you doing to me?”

“I don’t know, but I seriously need to get off this emotional roller coaster.”

He brought his forehead to hers. “You don’t need to ride it anymore,” he whispered. “All you need to do is let this happen.”

Then his mouth was on hers, confident this time. And so hungry for her, as if he were wrapping all the longing and uncertainly of the past five weeks into one perfect kiss. Hard and demanding, and yet soft at the same time. She brought her legs around his hips, pressing her body into his as if she could meld them into one. The bare skin of his chest felt heavenly against her. She opened up to him, making a ravenous sound in her throat as he bit at her lips with increasing urgency.

“I thought I’d never get to do this again,” he whispered hoarsely into her mouth. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve dreamed of you?”

His words were sweet music to Kiki’s ears. All the reasons she thought they couldn’t be together fell away into the abyss of their passion. “I couldn’t stay away from you if my life depended on it,” she rasped, throwing her head back as she dissolved under his touch. Dev’s tongue trailed down her neck. Still holding her around him with one arm, he made an animal sound when his other hand found her breast. She could feel his erection pressing into her groin. She forced herself not to rub against it like a desperately horny fifteen-year-old. “I’ll make you late,” she breathed.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” Dev replied, applying just enough pressure with his hips to make her lose her mind. “If I can’t walk on that stage tonight smelling like you, I’m not going on at all.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to cancel,” she teased.

“Are you really prepared to be responsible for disappointing fifty thousand fans?” His hand was sliding up her thigh now, making its way toward her panties.

She dropped her hand from his neck to his cock, which was now straining against his jeans in all its glory. She plunged her hand into his pants and watched his face go slack with lust as her hand wrapped around him. “Okay, rock star, you win.”

CHAPTER SIX

FIFTEEN MINUTES. THAT’S how long Dev knew he’d have until his stage manager came knocking on his door. But right now there was only Kiki and him. Dev’s entire world shrank down to this small room where their intense longing was all that mattered.

More of her. Finally.

When her ass hit the dressing table, she’d already yanked her skirt up around her waist. With her boots still on, she brought her feet up on the table and leaned back against the mirror. Then she spread her legs wide to give him a perfect view. Hot desire ripped through Dev’s synapses when he saw the wetness on her thong. He rubbed a hand over his erection, which was straining painfully against his jeans.

“That tight pussy,” he murmured, reaching for her panties. “Do you know how many nights I’ve pretended my hand was you?”

“I’ve had a few sleepless nights myself,” Kiki breathed, squirming as he cupped her right there. She bucked into his hand and let out a tortured moan when it hit exactly the right spot. “Rip it. Just fucking rip it off,” she choked out. “I need you now.”

“If you insist,” Dev said thickly, curling his hand around the pink garment. He yanked hard, and he heard the thin fabric snap as it pulled off in one swift motion. Then he dragged her hips toward him until she was balanced on the edge of the table with full access to her beautiful sweet spot. Like a man possessed, he brought his mouth down on hers again while his fingers went inside her.

She moaned as he drew her wetness up to circle her clit. Her body started to tremble as she arched backward, her chest heaving with barely controlled desire.

“My sweet little strawberry, I can’t wait to taste you again,” he whispered into her ear.

“Next time. Please, Dev. Just fuck me. I’m dying for you.”

Next time. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any better.

Kiki’s hands were at his belt buckle. He heard the arousing sound of his fly unzipping, and then he was in her hands, so hard he ached.

“Tell me you have a condom somewhere,” she pleaded.

Dev fumbled a drawer open on the dressing table. He’d yet to occupy a dressing room that wasn’t fully stashed with condoms, and thankfully this one was no exception. He snatched one, ripped the package open and got it on. His heart was pounding like an animal in heat. That face, that body, that pussy—he wanted to possess all of it. He pressed himself into her so his cock was lying against her clit. “Do you remember how I felt inside you?” he murmured, locking his eyes on hers.

“Perfectly. Now fuck me, Dev, or I swear to God I’ll finger myself again. But this time I’ll make you watch until I—” The words died on her lips as he moved his cock to her opening and pushed himself inside her.

Something akin to savageness overtook his body as he felt her heat envelop him. She felt even better than he remembered, the most incredible heaven on earth he could imagine. They were perfect together—so fucking perfect it defied all logic. Leaning forward on his arms, he drove into her again and again, ripping sweet whimpers from her swollen lips. His belt buckle banged loudly against the table, punctuating every amazing thrust. Kiki’s head fell to the side, her hair sweeping over his shoulder. “Yes, yes, yes!” she cried, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her breath was as quick as his as they desperately chased their long-overdue release. “Don’t stop, Dev. Do not fucking stop.”

He had no plans to, but the sight of her was driving him dangerously close to the edge. Beautiful. Primal. Completely consumed by pleasure. It was almost too much, and yet not enough. When his desire threatened to topple his control, he grabbed her hands and brought them above her head. She gasped, laid open, and brought her legs around his hips to pull him in deeper. The feel of her leather boots on his bare ass urged him ever forward. Every muscle in his body strained toward his own pleasure, but it wasn’t nearly as important to him as hers.

“Five minutes,” cracked the walkie-talkie. As Dev slowed his relentless pace for one stroke, Kiki grinned at him devilishly. “Should I tell them you’re coming?”

“I’d rather just do it,” he said breathlessly. He was so close, but he didn’t want it to end yet.

“Good. Because I’m about to,” she moaned.

Dev watched her face as he circled his groin against her clit. Her mouth fell open, her body tensed and she contracted around him, bringing him to the point of no return. He exploded as he anchored into her, riding crest after crest of melting heat that singed his synapses all the way to his fingers and toes.

The best fucking orgasm of his life, and all he wanted was to do it all over again.

His breath was gone. As he recovered, he let Kiki’s hands slide down. Then he picked them up and kissed her palms, one after the other. “I want you there with me tonight,” he said. “Right where I can see you.”

An hour into Dev’s show, Kiki could still feel him between her legs. Her climax had been close to an earthquake, but it had done nothing to tame her raging libido. Of course, the fact that she was wearing a thigh-skimming skirt with no underwear didn’t help matters. She felt naughty and wild, built for pure pleasure. Every cell of her body was hypersensitive, culminating at her clit, where she felt like she could come again at the brush of a hand. Dev’s hand. No other man could make her feel the way he did, which meant she was in very deep trouble.

In the wings, the roar of the crowd was deafening. Thick smoke from cigarettes, marijuana and the dry ice that was part of the show clogged the air. Kiki stared at Dev, mesmerized at the sight of his fingers flying over his red Gibson. He played his instrument just like he’d played her body, building and building the excitement until it practically begged for mercy. But it wasn’t just his charisma that was so sexy—it was his utter comfort up on that stage, like he was born to do this. For Kiki, who quaked at the thought of giving a mere dinner toast, the idea that he could handle such a relentlessly bright spotlight was a massive turn-on. Which was just one reason the rest of the world loved him—not just her.

“It’s one of his greatest talents,” a voice said loudly in her ear. She turned to see Bix beside her, hands shoved in his pockets as he looked out at Dev. Fuck. If there was one thing that could put a damper on her arousal, it had just shown up. She grasped the hem of her skirt and yanked it down.

“What is?” she replied, shouting above the noise to be heard.

“His ability to make every woman out there feel like she’s the only one in the room.”

Kiki looked away. She didn’t know if Bix somehow knew about Dev and her or was only guessing, but his message was clear: there was nothing special about her. She recognized a cheap attempt at relationship sabotage when she saw it, but why should Bix care? Did he just make a habit of treating anyone who dared get within arm’s length of his best client as if they were so much trash?

“I hadn’t noticed,” she replied, attempting to make her shouting voice indifferent.

“He makes it look easy out there, but no one appreciates how hard he works. Harder than anyone I know. I’d hate to imagine how empty his life would be without that stage.” Kiki felt his eyes on the side of her face before he turned on his heel and exited through the side door. She rolled his words around in her head, searching for their true meaning. Even if she wasn’t exactly sure what it was, it was clear Bix wanted her to keep her distance from Dev. But she’d tried that. And even if she felt pathetically weak to have given in to him again, right now she hardly cared. It’s not like they were talking marriage, they were both just enjoying the fuck out of each other’s bodies.

Except that it was more than that, and Kiki knew it.

She pushed that knowledge from her head.

The crowd was losing its shit. The last song had ended, and Stuart was now starting in on a drum solo. She saw Dev toss his guitar aside and stride off the stage under the cover of darkness. He came straight for her, grabbing her hips to bump her back against the wall. “You’re fucking killing me. I’m rock hard up there from thinking of you,” he growled into her ear.

He wasn’t lying—she could feel it pressing into her belly. She went wet all over again. “I wish you could fuck me again right now.”

He made a tortured sound in his throat. “This drum solo is four minutes long. Just enough time to make you come.”

Her belly flopped over. Was he serious? She’d barely got the thought out when his hand was under her skirt. “I could get used to this easy access.”

Kiki took a quick look around before her intense arousal could sweep all good sense away. The space was dark and sparsely occupied. To anyone around them it probably just looked like he was leaning in close to her to be heard.

At least that’s what she told herself because she was helpless to stop anything that felt this good. As Dev sunk a finger into her wetness, she felt like she might collapse with desire. Her body went rigid as he massaged her clit with expert strokes, driving her toward her orgasm with breakneck speed. She couldn’t help another glance around. Was she really doing this? It was loud onstage, but what if someone heard her?

As if reading her mind, Dev moved so his shoulder was against her mouth. She inhaled the heady scent of his sweat and aftershave. His cock pressed firmly into her thigh. “Think about how good I felt inside you,” he said hoarsely. “Think about how hard I’m going to fuck you later. And then let me feel you come.”

She was almost there. Dev’s fingers moved in and out of her with a rhythmic thrust while his thumb maintained just enough pressure on her ultrasensitive clit. The heat built until it burst at her center, bucking her against the wall. Goose bumps crawled up her spine. Jesus. She muffled her whimper with an open mouth against his shirt.

“Exactly what I needed,” Dev said, gently slipping his hand out of her. “Meet me in my bus after the show.”

He didn’t even wipe his hand off before reaching for his six-string Fender.

CHAPTER SEVEN

CLIMBING UP THE two steps to Dev’s tour bus, Kiki took a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching before she opened the door. She knew exactly how it looked, and the last thing she wanted was for the news to hit the crew that she was Dev Stone’s new little piece of ass. Today had been amazing, but the reality of her situation had set in a bit. She’d slept with Dev on tour, just like countless other girls before her had. Was her status really that different from any other hanger-on groupie? Kiki wasn’t here to make a new best friend, but she didn’t want to become the laughingstock of the crew, either. Just keep it under wraps. Whatever this is.

Her legs felt shaky as she stepped inside the bus. She knew it was from the sex—she was out of practice—but she was also exhausted from her sleeplessness the night before. She could hear the shower running. Even the image in her head of Dev naked had her going again, but it wasn’t just his body she ached for. The way he touched her, like she really meant something to him...it was addictive, and she had to keep her head together. She’d already broken two of her soft rules by mixing business with pleasure and taking things beyond one night, and she was dangerously close to breaking her hard rule of keeping her emotions out of it. In fact it was ridiculous to try to fool herself that she already hadn’t. Dev lit up something in her that no one else had come close to, not even Jack.

While Kiki waited for the water to stop running in the bathroom, she glanced around the bus. The space was generic looking with no personal touches, but it was nearly as big as her cottage on Moretta and a lot more luxurious. She was standing in a lounge complete with two leather sofas and a large-screen TV. The dining area opened to a kitchen with glass countertops, a dishwasher, fridge, range and built-in espresso machine. The bathroom door stood open, displaying a marble vanity. Beside that was a small gym with weights and a treadmill. And at the end of the hallway she could see the bedroom, complete with a closet and queen bed. Her gut clenched. This wasn’t a rental, it was Dev’s personal bus that he kept in storage and brought out for his European tours. It pained her to think of how many women he’d taken to that bed over the years.

Dev stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips. Her eyes went to the muscular indentations at his hips that pointed down toward his perfect package. A jolt fired through her limbs. God, but he was fucking ruinous.

Wordlessly, he pulled her toward him and claimed her mouth with his. She yielded against his chest as he ran a hand up her back and into her hair. His tongue slid against hers with the promise of more to come, causing her belly to go molten. What the hell was happening to her? She’d become insatiable. “I thought you’d keep me waiting all night,” he said against her mouth, running his tongue over her lip.

“You got off stage twenty minutes ago.”

“Longest twenty minutes of my life.”

Her knees went weak as their kiss deepened. She pounded a hand on his back and broke away from him breathlessly. “You are too much for me, rock star,” she gasped. “I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

“Then don’t do anything. Leave it all to me.” He was back on her, relentless. His need of her, his demand that she be his—it was so intoxicating. She curled a leg around his knee to bring him in closer.

“Let me show you the bed.” As he spoke with his mouth pressed to hers, he pushed her back bit by bit until the mattress hit the backs of her knees. She collapsed onto it, and he braced himself with his arms to lean over her. “Is it comfortable? Good enough for me to fuck you on?”

Kiki couldn’t resist. “I think you’d know better than me.”

He reached for her sweater and yanked the gaping neckline open, exposing her bra. “Not really,” he said, running a hand over the thin fabric. Her nipple went erect. “It’s brand-new.”

Kiki dropped onto the mattress, laughing. “It’s okay, Dev, you don’t have to bullshit me. I know you’ve had this bus for a decade and I still like you.”

His hand freed one of her breasts. He took it in his mouth, flicking his tongue across her nipple. She tried to bite back her whimper, but it was impossible. The sight of his cock tenting his towel had her coming apart. Dev lifted his lips long enough to speak. “If I’d known you wouldn’t mind it, I would have spared Chester the hassle,” he said, trailing kisses down her belly.

“Hassle?”

“Yeah. I put in an order to have the bed switched out just before I went onstage tonight.”

Kiki laughed deliriously. Dev’s show had started at 8 p.m. in a European city, whose businesses weren’t obsessed with twenty-four-hour shopping like they were in the US. How the hell had he managed to get a new bed purchased, brought in and made up in the past three hours? He was Dev Stone, that was how, and his world was as different from hers as another planet.

But more important, he had done it just for her. It was a piece of information that caught in her chest almost painfully. This was happening too fast. It was never meant to happen at all...because it couldn’t last. She exhaled, determined to rein herself in. “I guess I shouldn’t have doubted it. I forgot that you have people for that kind of—”

Her words froze in her throat as she felt his tongue sweep across her clit. She looked down, meeting his eyes as he shoved her skirt up roughly. He gripped her hips tightly enough to inflict mild pain, but his mouth on her was so gentle it made her cry out with a feeling she couldn’t quite name. The contrast of his desperate need for her and his soft mouth—it was mind-bending.

“The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Dev whispered before he sunk his tongue all the way inside her. And then his mouth was fastened to her clit, licking and sucking her toward her third climax of the night with the strength and power of a freight train. Before she even knew what was happening, it was washing over her, taking her breath away as her whole body tensed and shook. Finally, she released with a long sigh and collapsed onto the mattress.

And yet she still wasn’t satisfied. No—she was voracious, made of pure lust, and she’d never needed anything more than she needed him.

It was insanity.

Dev stood up and tugged at his towel, dropping it to the floor. His cock was so hard it barely fell forward. “See what you do to me?”

The sight of him naked kicked her heartbeat up even further. His wet hair lay over his brow in that way she loved, highlighting his aqua eyes. His abs rippled as he braced his arms on the bed on either side of her. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

She thrust her chest up and spread her legs open. “Never readier.”

As Dev reached for a condom and put it on, her pulse jumped with delicious anticipation. God, he was going to make her scream—

Her mind screeched with a sobering thought. “What about that?” she asked, gesturing to the cab up front.

“Soundproof,” Dev assured her.

“A must for any horny rock star.”

“Stop calling me that,” he said, reaching for her waist.

“So you’re not horny?”

“What does it feel like to you?”

Before she knew it, he’d flipped her onto her front like a rag doll. She gasped as he pulled her hips back and filled her opening with the tip of his cock. But then he stopped, teasing her as he moved those two inches in and out of her. A fresh wave of lust gripped her like a fist. “Dev. Fuck,” she moaned.

“At your command,” he said, and with that he slammed himself into her up to the hilt. When he paused for a moment, she turned around to look at his face. It was the picture of ecstasy, driving her extreme arousal even higher. He locked his eyes onto hers, and then he leaned over her back and bit her earlobe. “Are you getting this, Kiki? How we feel together? It’s not just me, is it?”

Being filled with him was so good she could barely speak, but she tried. “No,” she managed just before he started to move. And God, how he moved. Every beautiful muscle in his torso tensed as he thrust into her mercilessly, driving himself toward what she could only imagine was his own pent-up pleasure. And she was the lucky recipient of his urgency. She dropped her chest to the bed to allow him to go deeper. “Yes!” she cried, countering his every movement with a stroke of her own.

Dev’s hands went to her shoulders, caressing them gently as he plunged into her with one final, impossibly deep thrust. She heard a low growl come out of him as he trembled behind her, lost in the climax of their passion.

At last he collapsed onto her back. “Jesus, Strawberry. How did I live without you for even one day?”

“Shit!”

The word, spat out furiously, jolted Dev awake. He bolted upright in bed, nearly banging his head on the overhead shelf. The bedside light was still on, illuminating the panic on Kiki’s face as her eyes darted around the room. Beneath them he could hear the low whine of the engine as the bus made its way steadily south toward Rome.

Dev put a hand on her arm, stroking it soothingly. “I should have warned you that it can take some getting used to. Pretty soon you’ll find that the movement will actually help you sleep.”

“It’s not that!” Kiki said, swinging her legs out of bed and reaching for her bra. “I should be on my bus!”

Dev shook his head as discouragement filled his chest. After everything that had happened yesterday, was he really back to square one with her? “I want you to stay with me. I thought that was obvious.”

“That’s not—”

“Do you need something? I have toothbrushes. Contact lens solution. Even pajamas with teddy bears on them if you want.” His eyes were on her face but hers were everywhere else, like a wild animal preparing to flee.

What’s wrong? Everything had been going so well, but maybe he’d let things go too far. Kiki had fallen asleep within minutes of their last encounter, and he’d justified not waking her by telling himself she needed the rest. He knew she was exhausted from the stupid prank he’d pulled the night before, and even if it had led her back to him, he was still feeling guilty about it. But in his heart he’d known he was being selfish—he’d just wanted to have her there beside him. To keep her in his arms where he could pretend his life was something resembling normal as long as she was with him. What was it about this woman, with her skyscraper-high walls and infuriating independence, that made him want to delve into every part of her? Not just her body, but her mind, her likes and her dislikes, her dreams and fears?

Kiki was fastening her bra and pulling the straps up over her shoulders, snap snap. “You’re kidding me, right? Have you forgotten that I’m supposed to be your employee? How do you think I’m going to feel doing the walk of shame back to my bus?” She glared at him. “You’ve never even thought about that, have you? How I’m going to look in front of everyone now. It’s fucking embarrassing, if I have to spell it out for you.”

Jesus—she was furious, and she was also right. Dev hadn’t considered for a moment how any of this would impact her life. Overtaken with a consuming need he could barely control, he’d only been thinking about his own desires—as per usual, as his brother, Alex, would have said.

“Look, Kiki, this isn’t just for right now, okay? I want you with me.” When she continued to ignore him, he grasped her chin gently and turned her face toward him. “Will you look at me, please? I want you, Strawberry. For the whole tour.” And longer, he thought, but he stopped himself. He had to keep his head sane and take this one step at a time—for both of their sakes.

“Fine,” she said, reaching for her skirt. “But I still have a job to do, and the line between work and play is looking pretty damned blurry to me right now. I can’t just—”

“So I’ll find another assistant! The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable. But we can find a way to make this work, okay?”

The quick tensing of her mouth told him he’d said exactly the wrong thing. “By quitting my job? I know it may not seem important to you, rock star, but this is my life! And what do you mean, make this work? This was never even supposed to happen!” She was making a lunge for her sweater when he caught her around the waist. She strained against his grip, but he refused to let go. He landed a soft kiss on her tensed shoulder blade and spoke to her softly.

“Yes, but it did,” he said, moving her hair to one side so he could kiss the back of her neck. “Kiki, listen. If you want to leave because you don’t want to be with me, you never have to set foot in this bus again. But if it’s just because of what you’re worried other people will think? Life is too short.”

“Easy for you to say when the whole world loves you,” she said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Funny, that’s what Alex always says to me. Only it’s not that simple.”

When she didn’t respond, he took her arms and gently uncrossed them, and then he slid his hands down to entwine them with hers. “When I was younger, I used to stress out a lot about my career. My mother was still alive back then, and she used to quote me this old saying, that I could please all of the people some of the time, or some of the people all of the time. I tried going with option two because to me my fans and my managers were all the people I thought I needed. It worked for a while, until I discovered that the one person I wasn’t pleasing was maybe the most important.”

“And who was that?” Kiki asked, her voice still edgy.

“Myself.”

“Oh, yeah? So what did you do about it?”

Dev shook his head. “I’m still working on it. Money might buy me a new bed in three hours, but it doesn’t solve most problems in life that really matter.”

Kiki was silent for a moment. “So why weren’t you pleased with yourself?”

Dev took a slow breath, metering his response. He certainly wasn’t about to tell her the whole truth, but for the first time in his life, the idea of sharing his burden with someone was profoundly tempting. Not just someone—with her, the person he’d come to trust in a terrifyingly short amount of time. “I made some compromises to have the career I wanted,” he began carefully. “When I first started out, being up onstage wasn’t what I thought it would be. I’d loved performing since I was a kid. I used to put on shows for my friends—you know, get up on my bed and pretend it was my stage. When I finally got the chance in real life I thought I’d kill it, but I was scared shitless. So I turned to some calming methods I shouldn’t have.”

“You mean drugs,” Kiki clarified.

“Yes. And way too much bourbon.”

“But that was a long time ago, right? You own that stage now.”

His gut clenched. If she only knew. “Sure, but it still comes at a price. And I’ve gone through my whole life feeling like I never had license to verbalize any of it, because I knew I was the luckiest bastard alive. Most people have to starve for years before they make it big, and my dream came true at twenty. So a few years ago I started talking about it. Doing interviews that brought the image of the infallible, glamorous rock star down to earth. I wanted people to know that we have just as many problems as anyone else, they’re just a different variety. That was more important to me than public adoration.” Except that he still hadn’t admitted the worst of it, hadn’t exposed the true depth of his weakness to the world—and he never could.

“I guess that’s why you hate it when I call you that,” Kiki said. Her back was still to him, but there was a hint of a smile in her voice. “Rock star.”

“Sure, but you know what I love about you? That you know none of this about me. You haven’t read a single article or watched a single interview with Dev Stone. I don’t impress you, and that’s exactly what I need.”

She finally looked over her shoulder to meet his eyes. “Need for what?”

Too much. Too soon.

Dev kissed her shoulder one more time, scooted to the end of the bed and tugged his boxer shorts on. “You know what would be good for us?”

“You mean besides the obvious?”

He grinned, relieved to see that her sense of humor had returned. He trailed a hand up her thigh. “Don’t get me started.”

Kiki batted his hand away. “Tell me. What do we need?”

Dev grabbed a navy robe from a hook on the wall and tied it around himself. “Say you’ll stay with me tonight and I’ll tell you.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“You’re absolutely right. Will you stay?”

She hesitated a moment, and then she nodded. Relief filled his chest. He placed his hands on the bed, leaned toward her and kissed her. “What we need is our first proper date.”

She snorted. “On a tour? How do you think that’s going to happen?”

“We have tomorrow off, in case you’ve forgotten. Now, no more questions.”

Dev stood up again and made his way to the front of the bus. He was about to do something he could have done with a hundred women over the years, and yet he’d never had the urge to—and suddenly he knew exactly why. Allowing his cock or his ego to choose a woman meant the fun was over the minute the orgasm was. But with Kiki, he got the feeling it was just beginning.

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