Page 13 of Rock with You

“Okay,” she said. “Did you have her arrested?”

His fists clenched. “Hell, no. She put herself in the spotlight trying to extort money from me. One of those gossip sites started poking around, trying to find something that made me look bad, and discovered her boyfriend had a lengthy criminal record. The police got involved, and Miriam and her boyfriend both went to prison for credit card fraud. The baby went into the foster care system, which is terrible, but it had nothing to do with me. Funny how the gossip sites forgot to mention that part.”

“I’m sorry,” Carly said quietly.

“It was a shitty situation.”

She looked up at him. “So have you written your next big hit?”

“No.” He’d been starting to wonder if he was done, if it was time to sell out and let one of those hit makers write his next album for him. “Been hiding out in this house for a month and wrote nothing but mediocre crap until I walked into your shop this morning.”

She blinked, sitting up straighter. “Will you play something for me?”

Fuck yeah, he would. He stood and walked to the corner where he’d left his guitar. “What’s your favorite?”

She smiled, looking so goddamn gorgeous sitting there wearing nothing but his T-shirt. “‘Hit Hard.’ Random, right?”

Hell. She’d named an obscure song off his first album, and while he couldn’t pick a favorite, that one sure held a special spot in his heart. “It’s one of mine, too.”

He lifted the guitar into his lap and began to play.

Carly felt like her heart was about to beat its way right out of her chest. Sam’s low, throaty voice filled the living room, making the hair on her arms stand on end. He strummed the guitar as he sang, and it was just magic. Everything about tonight was magic.

“Wow,” she whispered when he’d finished.

He set the guitar down, and she slid into his lap. “Um”—she giggled as his cock pressed against her—“does this always happen when you play?”

He smiled, his eyes heated. “Only when I play for you.”

That was probably a line, but she didn’t care. Tonight was all about living for the moment and creating the kind of once-in-a-lifetime night she’d remember forever. “Then you should play for me more often.”

“There are a lot of things I’d like to do with you more often.” He pulled her flush against him, reminding her that she wasn’t wearing panties, and now she was aroused as he was.

They made love in front of the fire, then devoured most of the box of chocolate chip cookies. Afterward, since it was unbearably cold everywhere else in the house, they piled extra pillows and blankets on the living room floor, added fresh wood to the fire, and slept.

When Carly woke the next morning, she was disoriented for a moment. Then Sam stirred behind her, and she remembered the totally surreal series of events that had led to her spending the night here with him.

“Mornin’,” he said, his voice raspy with sleep.

The fire had dwindled to coals, allowing a chill to permeate the air, but under the blankets, with Sam’s naked body entwined with hers, it was toasty warm.

“Morning.” She rolled to face him and gave him a quick kiss, mindful that she hadn’t brushed her teeth.

Sam’s hands slid down to her butt, pulling her closer. “Woke up thinking about you.”

Yeah, she could tell because he was hard, so deliciously hard. He hooked a hand behind her knee, angling her hips so that his cock pressed between them, and then he kissed her until every bone in her body had melted.

“Damn, baby,” he rasped. “You make me so hot.”

He reached behind them for a condom, rolled it on, and pushed inside. She gasped as he filled her, sending waves of pleasure through her body. He withdrew and thrust again, and it felt so good. They rocked together in the soft morning light, becoming more urgent with each thrust of his body inside hers.

For a man who made his living with his voice, Sam wasn’t a talker in bed. He showed his pleasure in the soft groans that tore from his throat, the way his eyes blazed into hers, and he clutched her against him, as if even an inch of space between them was too much.

She came with a cry, and Sam followed her over. They lay panting in each other’s arms.

“I hear songs in my head when I make love to you.” His voice was a whisper against her neck. “I thought I’d lost my muse, but I found her again. She’s you.”

Carly’s heart rolled over in her chest, and poof, she lost a little piece of it right there in Sam’s arms.

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