I was a stalker.

Not the scary kind. Not the stick-her-in-the-jailhouse kind. But I was guilty of stalking a certain rock star. A rock star that was so fine, any fangirl would drop her thong on his command.

When I was a teenager, I’d had posters of his hot bod plastered on every inch of my walls. Now, at twenty-three, I had T-shirts that sported his band’s logo. But I wasn’t ashamed. I’d yell it loud and proud. I was in deep lust with Hawke Calvin from Def Deception.

Chloe grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd of Club Rex. The loud music, people screaming in each other’s ears and laughter filled my ears. I’d never been to any place like this before.

Growing up in my small town of Carbarny, Illinois, clubs had been nonexistent, but what we’d had was music. Music was everywhere. Playing on the radio, on the speakers at a restaurant, or on my phone. And where there was music, there was Hawke Calvin of Def Deception singing his soulful rock tunes into the receiver.

“Sammy, speed it up.” She tightened her hold and jerked me forward. “The band’s got to be here. They just have to be.”

“Chloe, that concert was freaking awesome!”

“Yes, it was, girlfriend. Yes. It. Was.”

My first concert at Chicago’s United Center had been one of the best experiences of my life. The absolute best.

Their music was like no other, and every word Hawke had sung spoke to me like words in a romance novel. I swore, it did. So, when Chloe had found out where the band would be after the concert, I couldn’t miss the opportunity to meet him in person.

Chloe propelled us all the way to the front of the line at the base of the stairs. The VIP lounge was on the second floor.

I glanced around, taking in the half-naked women hanging around men in tight-fitted muscle shirts, feeling totally out of my element. “Chloe, I doubt your intel. Why would they be at a club that plays rave music? They’re a rock band.”

Chloe ignored me and tugged down the hem of her shirt, exposing some of her cleavage. The tall, tatted-up bouncer’s eyes flew to her breasts, like a puppy eyeing his Kibbles ’n Bits. I wondered if his tongue would drop and if he would start panting like a good boy.

“We’re on the guest list.” Chloe offered him her sweetest smile, the smile that could melt Ebenezer Scrooge’s heart.

God, I wished I’d had her boldacious charm. Internally, I applauded her. I would’ve given her a thumbs-up if the bouncer weren’t looking.

Guest list? How the hell did we get on some sort of guest list?

“Are you now?” He quirked an eyebrow, and a sly smile crept up his face, but his eyes stayed fixed on her chest, as if he were in a conversation with the twins.

She placed her hand on the guy’s muscled arm and angled closer to peek at the clipboard in his hands. Chloe’s short jean skirt hitched up, and half of her cheeks hung out. “Chloe and Sam.” She tapped the list with her weekly manicured red fingernail.

It was hard not to notice the difference between us—me in my regular boot-cut jeans with a yellow belt that matched my sandy-blonde hair and my white Def D tank twisted into a knot on the side and the bombshell brunette beside me in a hot, tight-as-hell tube top and jean skirt. I was more cheery, happy princess, and she was more sexy vixen. I guessed it was true what they said; opposites did attract because she was my best bud for life.

He pointed to the list and smiled down at her. “You’re on here.”

She squeed in his face, her I’m-so-cool act disappearing like water dousing a tiny match.

When she stepped in front of him and walked up the stairs, I followed behind her.

The top floor was not as crazy crowded as the bottom floor of the club. The cloud of mist from the fog machine swirled around us, and the scent of cigarettes entered my senses. I thought smoking had been banned in Chicago. Who knew? And there was one other familiar smell—weed. It reminded me of high school—the crowd, the loud music, the drugs. Not like I was into that stuff, but if we were here long enough, we’d get high just by being in the room.

Most of the women were wearing Def Deception shirts or the signature tanks that they’d sold at the concert for fifty bucks. A piece of material for that much money was not worth it, but the logo had me charging toward the shirts super fast, like the whole nation would sell out of them.

“I’m this close to flipping and fainting.” I threw one arm around Chloe and pulled her close. “Selfie time! We have to have proof that we were actually here. Smile.”

Pursing her lips and giving a peace sign, she smiled. I followed in the same pose.

If my mother were here, she’d have done the same. She was a modern hippy and had exposed me to all the greats—The Beatles, Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, and Def Deception. My heart rate slowed almost to a stop at the thought of my mom, but Chloe’s next words started my heart racing again.

“Look, there’s my drummer boy, Cofi!”

My eyes followed her line of sight, and holy cannoli, she was right.

The drummer of DD sat on a long black leather couch that rested against a wall. Two women were chatting him up. He had a drink in his hand and a chick on his lap. I was surprised Chloe had even seen him with it being so dark.

“God, he’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” Her eyes turned all googly-gaga, just like when we’d been teenagers gawking over Haden Lewis, the head quarterback of our football team.

I wasn’t any better as my insides swirled with excitement.

“If he’s here, Hawke must be somewhere.” My mouth turned dry, and my palms slicked with sweat. I raised my arms and placed them on top of my high ponytail to give myself some air. All I wanted was a glimpse of him close up, and then Christmas and my birthday would be made.

Le sigh.

The bar was situated in the middle of the room. Shot glasses lined the bar, waitresses were filling orders, and men were waiting for their drinks. But that wasn’t where the crowd was. My eyes flew to the people congregated against one section of the room.

Through the darkness, I spotted a guy in the corner, sitting next to a girl. She was laughing at something he had said, and his hand caressed her upper thigh.

I squinted and then stiffened because it couldn’t be. But it was.

Hawke.

It was him. Not the Hawke Calvin who had been a million yards away on the concert stage, not the Hawke Calvin being interviewed on TV, not even the Hawke Calvin in my magazines. It was Hawke, in the flesh.

My sweaty palm reached into my back pocket and plucked out my five-by-seven card with the band’s picture. All I wanted was a signature and to pick his brain about every song he’d ever written. And maybe just to touch him…to say that I’d touched him. That was all. That wasn’t being too greedy, right?

First, I wanted a glimpse of him up close, then I needed an autograph, and now, I wanted to touch him? Which was it, Samantha?

I’d settle for the autograph, given I couldn’t even hear myself think above the music blaring in the background. I knew we wouldn’t be having a long, drawn-out question-and-answer session in this type of atmosphere.

“Where are you going?” Chloe asked.

I pushed past the crowd of mostly girls around me, squirming myself in between the small spaces of their bodies, trying to make my way to the couch where Hawke was sitting.

“I’m getting his autograph.” I flipped toward Chloe, who was trailing right behind me. “Do you want something signed?”

“Yeah, my boobs.” She laughed her Chloe carefree laugh.

I didn’t know if she was serious or kidding. With Chloe, I never knew.

The bass of the sound system pounded under my feet, and the laser lights illuminated the dark room in streams of fluorescent blues and reds and pinks. I rapidly blinked, debating on my next move. I went on my toes but couldn’t get a good look because about twenty girls were in front of me, vying for his attention.

But, oh, was he a dream, even from this distance. I’d worshipped him from afar, and now, I was within feet of him. His hair was a dirty-blond, wavy and it twinkled against the light.

My hand fluttered to my lips, reluctance filling my veins. There was no way I could approach him. He was beyond unattainable.

But, in the next second, I decided I’d have to at least try.

New city. New adventure. New Sam.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself out of my shy shell.

When would I ever be this close to the lead singer of Def Deception again? Probably never.

I craned my neck and huffed. He was only a few feet away from me, but the women had formed a barrier between us.

There was no way I was going to get in front of these groupies, so I started to yell his name obnoxiously loud, “Hawke!”

And then Chloe joined in. It was as if Chloe had been born with a built-in microphone in her throat, her voice loud, screechy, booming.

Suddenly, a woman in a tight minidress turned around and threw me the dirtiest look. Her hair was a fiery red that matched the fire in her eyes. I flinched, but in the next second, I didn’t care.

Be bold, or go home.

“Hawke!” If Chloe and I screaming at the top of our lungs wouldn’t get his attention, I didn’t know what would.

When the redhead said, “Listen, bitch, wait your turn,” Chloe yelled louder, turned up her nose, and smirked.

If there were going to be a girl fight, I knew she would throw down. My best friend looked sweet and innocent, but she could bite. Bite like a predatory lion ready to protect her cubs.

And then it happened.

Finally, Hawke tore his gaze from the woman in front of him, and our eyes locked.

Deep green eyes bore into my boring brown ones.

Holy wow!

Electricity sizzled in the air between us, and I staggered and stepped back, blinking a couple of times. He squinted and leaned toward my direction, really seeing me. A numbness fell upon my body, as though I were going to faint, but I was frozen in my spot.

“Don’t let that witch stop you.” Chloe pushed at my back until I knocked into one of the girls.

Brown hair whacked me in the face, and she flipped around and gave me the bird. Her eyes narrowed, and I swore, she was about to throw a punch when a bald guy, who must’ve been close to seven feet tall, stepped between us.

The bodyguard.

I took a step back, ready to call defeat, when he tugged at my elbow. Scared, I tried to jerk away from his grasp. “Let go of me! I’m going, all right?”

His hold on me tightened, and Chloe grabbed my other arm. My body was in a tug-of-war between the two of them.

“Let go.” Chloe squinted her hazel eyes and her voice lowered to a menacing growl, like a bulldog ready to pounce. “We’re leaving. You don’t have to physically attack my friend here.”

“No, come with me.” With one flick of his thick wrist, he turned my body toward the couches. “Mr. Calvin would like a word.”

Chloe’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “Mr. Calvin? Hawke Calvin?” Her grip was tighter than the bodyguard’s but now for a whole different reason. “Oh my God,” she squealed.

And, all of a sudden, it was like a dizzying dream.

My heartbeat sped up, and then in the next second, I was in front of the lead singer of Def Deception. I stood, unblinking, my eyes taking in every detail of him from his chiseled jaw to his sparkling eyes to the scar right above his eyebrow. He tipped his head, sporting a crooked smile. A smile so panty-dropping gorgeous that the teenage butterflies in my stomach fainted and then were brought back to life again, causing a frenzy in my belly. All from his crooked smile.

Le sigh…again.

The magazines did not do him justice. He was most definitely more handsome than my calendar that Chloe had gotten me for Christmas. His eyes were the greenest of greens, just like emeralds or as vibrant as a newly manicured lawn.

The bodyguard released my elbow, and I stepped closer, my left yellow Converse hitting his black leather boot.

“Name?”

I heard him clearly, yet it was as though my mouth had been wired shut. I lost all ability to speak, think, or utter my own name.

Chloe nudged my shoulder. “I’m Chloe, and this is Sam.”

He didn’t tear his eyes from mine as he shook Chloe’s hand first and then reached for my waist where I had to bend down to hear what he had to say. “Is Sam short for Samantha?” His warm breath tickled my skin and caused goose bumps to spread down my neck.

Hawke is touching me. Hawke. Is. Touching. Me.

I pulled back and nodded, still mesmerized by his beauty and trying to keep my cool. I inhaled deeply and coughed because I had, at some point, forgotten to exhale. I guessed breathing normally in his vicinity was not possible.

His fingertips grazed the bare skin at my waist and he pulled me onto his lap. One minute ago, I had been a girl just hoping to see her rock idol, and now, I was straddling him, knees on either side of his waist.

That seemed to break me from my trance, and I pushed at his chest. “Wait.”

“Relax.” He planted his hands on my hips to keep me still. “Sam, relax.”

Like that was even possible. I was straddling Hawke Calvin. And there I was again, dazed and confused at the sound of my name falling from his lips.

“Is there something you wanted, sexy?” His eyes smoldered, and his tone dropped an octave lower.

Me, sexy? Okay, sure. What did I want?

I gulped. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, like mixed-up computer code.

He licked his lips as his fingertips drew tiny circles on my hips, triggering tingles throughout my body. From the look in his eyes, I knew what he wanted.

But I couldn’t. We wouldn’t.

I snapped myself back to reality.

“No…it’s not what you’re thinking.” I shifted forward to get the postcard from my back pocket and froze when I felt his hard length against my inner thigh.

Any sort of reasoning flew out the door. I wasn’t a virgin. I’d been in two long-term, failed relationships, but I didn’t sleep around. One-night flings were not in my vocabulary. Even with a rock star.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Who knew if he was aroused by me? For all I knew, he wore a rock-star boner from the moment he woke up until his head hit the pillow.

“Never mind.” Forget the autograph. I tried to wiggle off, but his hands only tightened against my waist. “Can you let go?”

“Is that what you really want?” His crooked smirk was enough to melt me again, but I was not that girl.

“No, I wanted an autograph, but I’m not really comfortable…right now.” Something snapped within me, through all the weed and smoke in the air and the loud music. Yes! Clarity and sanity and virtue had arrived.

He was a gorgeous face and had a beautiful voice, but I was a relationship kind of girl. My stomach dropped at the total letdown in meeting him. I’d had such high expectations. I’d wanted to pick his brain about his music, about his songs and the inspiration behind the lyrics to his tunes.

But the typical rock star only wanted one thing. Crushing disappointment seeped into my skin.

“What do you want me to autograph?” The glint of the strobe lights caught the green in his eyes.

Because his voice didn’t have that same sexual intonation as it had a second ago, I pulled the postcard of the band from my back pocket and handed it to him. “This.”

He tipped his chin toward his bodyguard, and the big guy handed him a pen. It was like they could communicate without actually using words.

He held the pen in his hand and sucked in his bottom lip. “See, I don’t give anything up without getting something in return.”

My eyebrows jumped to my hairline. “Right here? Sorry, it’s not happening.” My response shot out quick, steady, automatic. I wasn’t going to have a public exhibition for everyone to see.

“No.” His eyes danced with amusement. “One kiss.”

My body tensed. I didn’t like being forced into something. Never had. But this was a no-brainer.

Did I want to kiss one of the biggest rock stars in the world?

Forbes’s richest entertainer? People’s sexiest man alive? The lead singer of Def Deception?

I nodded, my heart leaping into my throat, and then before I could say anything, it happened. He leaned forward, his lips meeting mine, and a flame ignited my whole body. His kiss was overwhelming. Warm at first but fire the next. Tingles initiated at our connection, even reaching to the tips of my tiny toes.

A moan escaped him as the pen slipped from his hand and hit my arm. One hand reached under my shirt to my bare back while the other grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me closer, flush against him. My pulse raced, and my skin warmed as he groaned and deepened our kiss.

Sanity had left, and so had clarity. Soon, my panties would be next.

With one flick of his tongue, I opened and breathed him in, his musky cologne with a hint of spice. His tongue intertwined with mine. His hard mouth devoured my softness.

My hands reached for his hair, lying just above his neck. It was soft and silky, and I gently tugged at the strands.

His touch and the scent of him were like drugs lulling me toward nirvana.

When he forcefully moved my body against his erection, my breathing labored, and my body heated. I pulled back, and my heart jumped into my throat. Our eyes locked, both of us a little dazed and a lot breathless.

He leaned in again to meet my lips, but I pressed him back with one hand to his chest.

Without giving myself another second, I scrambled from his lap, almost losing my footing in the process. He reached for my hand, but I pulled away, biting my lip, the stinging pain snapping me back to the present.

I pressed a hand to my thumping heart as it all became so real. I had just made out with Hawke Calvin, doing the Humpty Dance on his crotch.

And, now, I was leaving with my clothes on and my integrity intact.

Go me.

I staggered a little and glanced down. Somewhere between sitting on my idol’s lap and feeling his tongue in my mouth, I had dropped my postcard.

I took two steps back toward him, bent down to pick it up, and stuck the five-by-seven card in his face. “You can make it out to Sam.” I forced a calm coolness in my smile even though my lips were on fire and my heart was going to fly out of my chest.

He blinked, momentarily stunned. For once, his eyes were unreadable, his sexual innuendos gone. I lifted an eyebrow and wiggled the postcard in his direction.

I wanted to ask him so many questions, but I knew I had to go. I smelled like weed now, and I sensed a whole bunch of danger in Hawke Calvin’s eyes, as though he would devour me for his meal and swallow me whole. No part of me would be left unscathed.

With one tip of his chin to his bouncer, the pen was back in his hand. He balanced the card on his knee and scribbled his name along with his number on my card. Even his signature had personality.

When I turned to leave, he stood, reached for my waist and spun me to face him. “I need to see you tonight.” His tone lowered, and his alert gaze was set on mine, his fingers grazing my hip.

His body language promised me more than dinner and a movie. Hell, I doubted that would even happen at all.

I smiled, turned and reached for Chloe as my cheeks flushed pink. Any normal girl would’ve dropped her panties right then and there, but I wasn’t a normal girl. And maybe if he’d had some manners, quite possibly had said, Pretty please, I would’ve considered it. But, no.

His hands circled my waist and pulled my body into him, my back now flush against his hard chest. My nipples pebbled from his touch, betraying me.

He bent down and nibbled the top of my ear. “I don’t beg. Not normally.” His voice was warm against my skin. “I’m in Chicago for a few days. Call me tonight. Please,” he whispered.

And there was that one word I doubted he used often.

Despite me not being that girl, everything inside me tingled with want. But I brushed it off and snapped back to Sensible Sam.

I had to go, or I’d be giving him more than a kiss. I had a feeling that this guy would stomp on my heart, and I couldn’t afford to get sidetracked from my ultimate goals in life, especially since it was only recently that I had gained some normalcy.

I stepped away with my pretty panties still on, integrity intact.