“This is Summer.” I introduced my girlfriend to Seth as she strolled into the studio the next evening. I was expecting a hand shake or a hello. Instead, she walked right on over to Seth and threw out her arms for a hug.

“C’mere, you,” she said, and the two of them enfolded each other. The hug was tight and familiar, and I found myself feeling weirdly jealous.

It was a primal, Get-your-hands-off-my-man feeling. One I shouldn’t have been feeling towards one of my best girlfriends, whom I trusted, deeply, or towards Seth, who wasn’t exactly my man.

But there it was.

When they released each other, Summer slipped her arm around Seth’s shoulders. She was wearing a very cool, fitted purple jumpsuit, which I could totally not pull off, her long, dark hair worn stick-straight, with thick black eyeliner and pink lipstick, kind of a girlie mod-punk look. The girl gave no shits what was currently in fashion and always managed to look amazing.

“We’ve met,” she said, chipper in a way she only was when she was hanging off a hot dude.

“You didn’t tell me Summer was your mystery DJ friend,” Seth said, smiling an easy smile.

“I… uh… didn’t know you knew each other.” I shot her a look. She really could’ve told me.

But Summer just waved a hand in the air and finally, let go of Seth. “Oh, you know. I know everyone. So does Seth. It’s a small world.” She circled the room, perusing Seth’s guitars. “Are we gonna make some noise, or what?” Then she looked over at me. And she winked.

I knew what she was doing. Testing me on how much I liked the guy.

Because she could tell, already, what I wasn’t quite ready to admit to her, or to myself. That I liked Seth Brothers—a hell of a lot.

Enough that I might even regret inviting her over, if she was gonna flirt with him all night.

* * *

It was our best session yet.

Summer had a ton of ideas, like she always did. The woman could add all kinds of crazy layers of sound with her set-up. I had a turntable in the studio just for her, and all kinds of state-of-the-art DJ shit and sound-enhancing shit, a whole computer network that I had an on-call IT company service and manage for me. All so Summer could come play with me.

Sometimes we just tinkered around, for the hell of it. Sometimes we came up with songs. Sometimes we recorded them. Between us, we probably had about two albums’ worth of potential music, fodder for some future collaborative project.

She was also going to join Dirty in the studio—for the first time—on the new album, and I couldn’t fucking wait.

And now, Seth and I brought her into a couple of the songs we’d been working on. And she took the music to new places, just like she always did. She and Seth had never worked together, but they vibed well. Musically. Personally.

By the time she headed home, near three a.m., I didn’t know what to feel. I was kinda thrilled that maybe we had a third musician who could go the distance with us—actually record an album. I was tentatively optimistic that something serious might happen here. That maybe I could get away with putting out an album with Seth Brothers, and no one would hate me.

How could they, when they heard how good it was? They’d have to understand then, right?

“Don’t mention this to Ash?” I asked Summer as I walked her out to her car and we hugged. I felt bad asking, but I had to.

“As if,” she said. As she started the car, she rolled down her window and told me, “You really need to hit that, though. If you don’t, I just might.” Then she smiled at me, her killer party-girl smile, and tore out of my driveway.

I knew she was just ribbing me. Maybe she could tell I was already hitting that, and she just wanted me to confess.

When I walked back into the house, Seth was pouring me a glass of red wine. The kitchen smelled of freshly brewing coffee.

“How do you drink coffee at all hours of the night and still manage to sleep?” I asked him.

“Tire me out,” he said, looking at me from under lowered eyelids, “and I’ll sleep.” He slid his hands onto my waist and pulled me to him.

But instead of melting into his arms like I wanted to, I felt a little tense.

“I have to be at the bar for seven in the morning,” I informed him. “The auditions are not gonna wait for me.” Actually, they were. If I didn’t show up on time, the auditions couldn’t start, and a whole lot of people would be annoyed with me.

It was the first time I’d mentioned the auditions to Seth since they’d resumed, but he appeared unfazed about the subject. “Then you should probably kick me out.”

We just stood there, neither one of us making a move to make that happen. His lust-hazed eyes stared me down; the cocky bastard knew I didn’t want him to leave. That’s why he’d made himself coffee.

I took a sip of my wine and said, cooly, “I think Summer enjoyed making music with you.”

His gaze moved over my face, reading me like a book. “You’re… jealous?”

I scoffed way too hard, totally giving myself away. “Of what?”

“You think I’m into her?”

“It’s okay if you are,” I lied. “She’s hot, and you seemed pretty comfortable with each other. And I know her. Usually when Summer smiles that much at a guy, she’s planning to fuck him… or she already has.”

“Well… I can’t tell you what her plans are. But she’s never had sex with me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Now I was just suspicious. “Why not?”

“Is it totally impossible to imagine that I can be in the same room with a woman and not have sex with her?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Can you?”

“You’ve been in the rock ’n’ roll game too long,” he said, walking me backwards until he had me against the wall. “Not all men think exclusively with their cocks, Elle.”

I was aware of that. Brody, for one, had never been a dive-in-dick-first-and-ask-questions-later type of guy, and I’d always appreciated that—that someone had restraint on tour. It gave me ongoing hope for the male half of the species. But Brody was a businessman, first and foremost. A different animal. One that led with his brain.

My male rock star friends were another story.

“You’re right,” I mused. “I’m pretty sure Dylan’s made a decision, or maybe two, over the years, that didn’t involve his cock.”

“There you go,” he said, kissing my neck. “Proved my point.”

I sighed as he licked and nibbled his way down my throat. “Can we not talk about Dylan anymore…?”

“No problem. What would you rather talk about?”

I opened my mouth to answer but no words came out. Seth was already on his way down, lifting my shirt to kiss my stomach, then sliding his hands up my short skirt…

Next thing I knew, we were on the kitchen floor, half-naked.

His hands were all over me, stroking, caressing, kneading. His mouth, his tongue, were everywhere. If I closed my eyes, it was kinda like three different men were adoring my body, kissing, nibbling, licking… His mouth was on my nipple, sucking. Then on my neck, licking, teasing, making me shiver. One hand was in my hair, pulling slightly. One hand was on my stomach, his fingertip caressing my clit.

Then he produced a condom from somewhere, and slid his cock deep inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist.

His tongue was in my mouth, screwing in deep. His fingers dug in between my legs as he thrust into me, his hips working in a slow, deep rhythm, swiveling against me. I was so focused on kissing him back, on stroking and sucking his tongue and wanting to turn him on, and just kinda melting in the all-over bliss, I didn’t even know I was there—until I came, my entire body seeming to shatter beneath him.

I gasped into his mouth and writhed against him, trapped between his hot body and the hard, cold floor.

My head spun.

Every time… it was like he was worshipping me. Like he was hellbent, laser-focused on my orgasm… on sucking and fucking and stroking and squeezing it out of me… Like he couldn’t get off until he’d gotten me there.

And when he did…

He lost it. He lost his rhythm. His thrusts sped up. His breathing grew jagged, heavy, and he fell apart. He rammed into me and I felt his cock pump a few times as he let go deep inside me.

I held him as he panted, kissing my throat, my chest.

When he’d recovered, he pushed himself up a bit. “You’re so fucking beautiful…” There was awe in his voice, and in his eyes as he gazed down at me.

“You’re… uh…” I tried to get the words out, but there was very little blood in my brain. “Tuned into me.”

A smile twitched across his full lips.

“I mean… shit, that was terrible sex talk. I just meant… you’re so intense on my, uh, reactive spots. I kinda lose control. I’ve never had that happen before.”

“Had what happen?”

“I don’t know… Losing track of myself like that? Usually, I’m in control of my own orgasm. Don’t laugh.” He was grinning at me, and I poked him in the chest. “I mean, usually it’s up to me when I come. I can make it happen when I want to, or slow it down. But with you… I don’t know. I’m coming, and I don’t even know how I got there. I don’t have control of it. The sounds I make or what my body does… You just drive my body there before my mind can catch up.”

His smile faltered a bit. “Is that bad?”

“No.” Did it sound bad, the way I described it? I wasn’t sure… I could hardly remember what I’d said. My mind wasn’t exactly razor-sharp at the moment. “It’s just… intense. Different.”

It was different.

It was also something I could get incredibly used to.

I didn’t say that, though. Instead, I said, “I’ve just never had a man take control of my body like that.”

He considered that as he pulled up his jeans. “You don’t like it?”

“I think I do,” I admitted. It was a massive understatement.

“Good.” He leaned in and kissed me, all hot and steamy and spent. “’Cause making you come is kind of a passion of mine.”

Heat swept through me at his words. Yeah… I could totally get used to that.

“Oh, shit… I almost forgot,” I said, as I struggled back into my panties, wobbly and weak. “My dad called this morning.”

Seth looked at me; he’d been doing up his jeans, with some difficulty, over his semi-hard dick.

“We’re having a late dinner with my family tomorrow night, after auditions. I mean, unless you have other plans.”

He’d gone completely still, and his mouth fell open a bit. But no words came out.

“They want to meet you. You know, again.” I grinned, as his eyes widened in a look of sheer terror. “Don’t worry,” I told him, sliding on my bra. “They’re fans.”