I had no idea what to make of it.

I flopped, naked, on my bed in the guest cottage. The lights were off, but there were lanterns hanging on the little patio outside, casting a glow. Everyone else had gone to bed a while ago, but I’d sat up, out there in the dark, just thinking. Unable to sleep.

Unable to decode the messages Elle was sending.

Officially, my discord with Dirty was no longer the main cause of my unease.

It was Elle.

Maybe I’d never really been able to read her. Maybe I’d never been all that great at understanding women at all… but I knew when a woman wanted me.

Elle, I could not understand.

Why she was being so cool to me.

Why she’d danced with me tonight, like… like she was attracted to me.

But maybe it was just dancing?

Maybe she was just having fun, and got a little carried away when her hands slid south of my hips and landed on my ass.

Maybe she didn’t realize her pussy kept rubbing up against my thigh as she semi-dry-humped me, that I could feel her warm softness through the thin fabric of my pants.

Maybe she didn’t feel my raging hard-on when she pressed herself up against me during that last slow song.

I had no fucking idea. For all I knew, maybe she was just drunk.

Maybe she really was lonely and none of what happened tonight was even about me.

Maybe that was how she danced with every guy these days, and it meant nothing at all.

Worse… maybe she saw me like she’d always seen Dylan—as a platonic male friend, one she could trust not to feel her up the first chance he got.

Or maybe she was just trying really, really hard to make amends for the past and rebuild the friendship we’d once had. If that was the case, I was not gonna piss all over her efforts like a fucking idiot by making a move on her.

I’d be lucky to count Elle as a friend.

The last thing I needed was for her to decide she’d made a giant mistake bringing me here because I’d started thinking with my dick. Because there was no way that was what she wanted. I was pretty fucking sure about that.

Though I really wasn’t sure about much else.

Sometimes when she looked at me… I couldn’t have guessed what she was thinking to save my life.

I did not remember her like this. So… guarded. So measured in everything she did. Carefully choosing her words and her facial expressions. The way she held herself, like a woman who was far too accustomed to having the world watch—and judge—her every move.

When she was younger, she was much more carefree. Like she was tonight.

But then again, maybe I just didn’t remember things right.

I could not remember ever being confused about Elle’s intentions back then—about what she thought of me or how she felt about me.

I could not remember ever thinking I might have any sort of chance with her.

From the beginning, it had been clear to me I had no chance whatsoever with Elle. Elle Delacroix was off-limits. Zane had told me as much the very day I met him, before he introduced me to the band. That was one of the ground rules.

Number one: Jesse is lead guitar.

Number two: You don’t disrespect Dolly. That was Zane’s grandma, who let the band practice in her garage.

And number three: No one fucks around with Elle.

I didn’t have any problem with those rules, even after I met Elle. It wasn’t as if I was the only one who noticed how pretty she was; everyone seemed to be crushing on her back then. Everyone, oddly, but Jesse. So it hardly seemed to matter. She had a boyfriend when I met her anyway. And she wasn’t interested in me; not that I ever knew of.

So she was off-limits for several reasons.

Over the years, that list of reasons had only grown longer.

But tonight… dancing with her at that bar… the limits had seemed to evaporate.

Why?

Because she wanted me seemed like far too much of a stretch of the imagination.

Wishful fucking thinking.

And yet… I had been wishing it. Thinking about it…

Elle, slithering up against me, her hands roaming over my body as we danced… sliding downward… and the crowd dissolving around us, so we were alone. Alone and our bodies pressed together, for the first time, ever.

And my hands, moving over her body… drifting up her slender curves… her bare neck… over her face. Touching her mouth…

Jesus.

She was so fucking gorgeous. It wasn’t exactly making this easier. Things were already hard enough. I wanted back in the band so bad I could taste it. So bad, it kept me up at night.

And now I wanted Elle.

Just as badly.

No. Actually… there were moments, like when she took hold of my hands at the photo shoot this morning… when she wrapped herself around me tonight and I felt her heat, and I smelled her warm, coconuty smell… when she pressed in close to talk to me over the music and I could almost taste her soft lips… I probably would’ve told every other member of Dirty to go fuck themselves if that’s what it took to get her naked.

I knew there wasn’t much blood left in my head right now, so my capacity for making solid decisions was kinda out the window, but if I could take Elle to bed… If she wanted me, right now, in her bed… I’d probably give it all up. Any chance of ever getting Dirty back.

Because if I slept with Elle, I did not see that happening.

Bad enough she’d already had a relationship with Jesse, and a breakup. Bad enough they all fucking hated me. Me, having sex with Elle, was hardly gonna lessen the drama with the band.

And still… it was all I could think about.

Elle. Naked.

After seeing her in that bikini, I could too easily picture her that way. Her smooth, tanned skin. Her slender, toned legs.

Her rosy nipples, in my mouth…

Fuck…

What would she sound like if I fucked her? If I was inside her…?

Would she gasp? Would she pant? Would she scream?

Would she shove me on my back and take the lead?

Would she want me to lead?

Would she want it hard? Or slow and easy…?

I had no idea… but I was imagining it all now. Curious… I was so fucking curious about her. My cock was aching with curiosity.

I grabbed it now; I was rock-hard. Sprawled on top of the sheets, the warm ocean air from the open window breezed over me. Elle was up there, in the house, and I started jerking myself off, thinking about her in her bed.

Just like I used to.

I stroked my hand along my hard length, up and down, slowly, and rolled my palm over the head.

Then I groaned and slowed my hand.

What the hell was I doing?

I stopped and took a breath. I tucked my hands behind my head and tried to think about something else as my cock pulsed. I closed my eyes and listened to the distant, almost musical rhythm of the waves. The chirp and twitch of insects in the trees.

It was wrong, jerking off here. I was a guest. Just seemed like an asshole thing to do.

But the damage had already been done…

All the blood in my brain had fled south, and my dick was throbbing almost painfully. My balls ached. No matter how I tried to change the direction of my thoughts, my cock won the argument.

So maybe I was an asshole.

I got up and went outside. Closed myself into the outdoor shower in the dark. I got the water running warm and stood under it, tried to catch my breath and calm down. I was so wound up, I was practically panting.

Shit. I so wanted her…

My hand was on my dick again, and it was all over. I had to come.

Badly.

It was probably better that I do this anyway, so I could think straight when I saw Elle tomorrow.

Maybe…

Because as the hours passed, I’d become increasingly unable to think of much at all besides her tanned skin, her gray eyes, her hesitant smile. And her tight, heart-shaped ass. Her firm tits. Her nipples… The rosy-pink color of them, glimpsed through the holes in her bikini.

And the glimpse of that bare pink pussy between her legs…

I came, hard, clutching the overhead faucet so I wouldn’t slip and fall on the wet stone floor; the explosion, white-hot, tore through me, and I clenched my teeth to stifle the groan.

In my head I was coming on her, in that bikini, and she was loving it… grabbing my cock to lick it off, lapping up my come…

Fuck. Me.

I wanted Elle.

I shuddered and collapsed against the shower wall.

I wanted her on her knees, sucking me off.

I wanted her bent over, ass in the air, taking my cock up that bare pink pussy.

I wanted her screaming on her back, begging me for more.

And as I came down from the intensity of that orgasm, the blood slowly returning to my brain… I wanted her to kiss me.

I knew it was self-destructive. The last thing I should want, if I had any hope of getting back the one thing I’d always wanted.

But I didn’t care…

I wanted her soft, swollen lips to brush against mine, and her tongue to fill my mouth.

I wanted to taste her.

I wanted those steel-gray eyes looking up at me, and I wanted her smiling.

I wanted her whispering my name against my skin.

Seth…

I wanted her… and I wanted her to want me.