“Come on, Seth,” Elle begged. “Fuck me.”

I was fucking her. Sort of.

We were in the back of a limo, and I was on top of her, bracing myself so I wouldn’t crush her.

There was a party tonight, a staged party, for the documentary series. Dirty was going to play for a packed house of VIP guests, at the bar where they’d held their Vancouver auditions—the new Dirty, with me included in the lineup. It was the first time the news that I was back in the band would be announced, on-camera.

And no doubt the staged party would roll right into a real party afterward.

Maggie had sent the limo to Elle’s place to collect us. We were parked outside the bar, in the packed lot, which was barricaded off from the media and fans who’d flooded the sidewalks beyond. We’d been making out pretty much the whole drive here, and as soon as we’d parked, Elle had wasted no time telling both the limo driver and Flynn to vacate—and tearing my jeans open.

I was inside her now, without a condom, which I’d discovered was one of the best perks of Elle already being pregnant: I no longer had to worry about accidentally getting her pregnant. We were skin-to-skin, and it was fucking mind-blowing, being inside her like this. Feeling her, all warm and slippery, tight and wet, on my bare cock.

Totally fucking intense.

I could easily lose my shit and fuck her until she had a hard time walking out of here.

But I was taking it slow, careful. Because another side effect of Elle being pregnant was that I was more than a little scared of hurting her.

Or hurting the baby.

“It’s like a fucking grape seed,” she panted, her fingernails digging into my ass as she struggled to pull me deeper. “It’s tiny, and you can’t hurt it. The doctor said so. It’s a grain of rice. A fucking lentil…”

“Stop making me hungry…” I teased, kissing her neck as she panted in frustration beneath me.

“You fucked the shit out of me the other night,” she complained, hissing her impatience through her teeth as I gave it to her slow. “You can do it again.”

“I didn’t know you were pregnant when I did that.”

“So? Pretend I’m not pregnant.”

“But you are pregnant.”

“Your dick doesn’t have to know that.”

I laughed.

“Seth… you’re pissing me off,” she groaned, grinding against me, as I stroked, in and out, gradually nudging my way deeper. “Yeah…” she breathed, “like that…”

Fuck. She was gonna fucking kill me…

I ran my hand across her chest. She was wearing a white dress, short and tight, and a pushup bra. I yanked the stretchy fabric down, shoving up her tits; they spilled right out of her bra as I pawed at it.

“Your tits are getting bigger,” I told her, and dragged my tongue over one swollen nipple. Her nipples were getting bigger, too. That was another perk of Elle being knocked up, which I planned to enjoy. “I wanna fuck them.”

“Yeah… talk dirty to me…” she moaned, rubbing up against me.

I slid my hand down between us and rubbed her clit. I knew it wasn’t fair I was teasing her. I didn’t mean to be a tease. But the fact that she liked it hard—really hard… We were just gonna have to work around that for a bit.

“Tonight,” I rasped, delving my tongue between her breasts, “when I get you home, I’m gonna pop your tits right out of this dress and fuck them. Ram my cock between them, and blow my load all over your pink nipples.”

“Yeah…” She shuddered against me as I worked her clit with my fingertips. I pulled my cock out, partway, and rubbed it in, back and forth against her front wall. Her mouth fell open and it only took a few strokes…

Maybe I wasn’t willing to fuck her deep or hard right now, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna fuck her good.

“Holy… shit…” she rasped—then she slammed her hand on the car door behind her head, writhing beneath me.

She came, screaming.

It was an all-over, full-body orgasm. She shuddered and bucked against me as her body spasmed. It wasn’t until she’d finally stopped screaming that we realized, at the exact same instant, that she’d slammed the door open.

We looked up at the same time.

Someone was standing right outside, between the parked cars. Tall and blond, leaning on a truck parked next to the limo. He was holding a forgotten joint, halfway to his lips, his long blond fauxhawk blowing around his eyes in the breeze.

“Hey, kids,” Zane said, nonchalant. “Having fun?”

Then he smirked.

Elle screeched and tried to dive deeper into the limo—and out of Zane’s sight. She didn’t get far since I was on top of her. She buried her face in my neck.

I reached for the door and slammed it shut. Elle was shoving at my chest, so I backed off. I pulled out. She set her gray eyes on me, panting.

I couldn’t help it; I laughed. I smothered it with my fist, and she smacked my shoulder.

“Gross!”

“What?”

“You made me come in front of Zane!”

“Hey, I made you come, period. You’re the one who opened the door.”

She smacked me again, glowering at me.

Then she dove on me. “Give me that dick,” she said.

I fell back on the seat as she grabbed my cock. She squeezed, pulling me into her mouth. She went down on me with a vengeance, moaning and hungry, licking me like a starving alleycat. I laughed, a dazed, euphoric laugh, but the sound cut off, strangling in my throat and twisting into a groan as she ran her teeth over the head of my cock. I felt the rush building, prickling up from the base of my spine and through my balls… and when she sucked me in again, I exploded with a growl, lifting my hips off the seat.

She sucked me deep as I came, jetting into her wet heat. Felt like my cock pumped for about ten minutes as my brain crashed around in my head.

When I collapsed on the seat with another groan, totally fucking spent, she said, “You hardly deserved that.”

I peered up at her; she was licking her lips, her gray eyes narrowed at me. “Huh?”

“For teasing me. I should’ve punished you.”

“So punish me next time,” I said, intrigued by what “punishment” from Elle might feel like.

“I will,” she promised. “Next time, I’ll just get myself off, slowly… and you can watch.”

Oh, shit. My mouth went slack and I felt my eyes glaze over, imagining that. I hadn’t seen her do that yet. Elle’s slender hands, sliding down between her own legs…

“Do we really have to go to this party…?” I asked, reaching for her and grabbing her by the waist.

“Yes,” she said. “We do. This is only like the moment of your life. You know, the one you’ve been waiting for all these years?”

“Really,” I said. “And here I thought I’d been waiting for this all these years.” I pulled her to me and kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around me. I kissed my way down her neck… She was in my lap, her tits in my face, and as I worked my way down, I groaned. “Your tits are still out, babe. If you ever want me out of this limo, you better put them away.” I suckled on her swollen nipples, unable to help myself. This pregnancy was definitely gonna kill me.

Who knew pregnant women were so motherfucking sexy?

Then she slid away. She leaned forward and tugged down her bra, and kind of shook her boobs back into the cups. My dick twitched as I watched.

She sat up and smoothed her dress over her curves.

“Can you do that again?” I asked her. “A little slower…?” I rubbed my hand over my throbbing dick.

Elle just grinned as she touched up her lipstick and said, “Later.” Then she took me by the hand and pulled me from the limo as I struggled to pull up my jeans.

* * *

“Shit. You’ve got lipstick on your neck.”

Elle stopped me at the entrance to the bar. The doors were standing open, manned by several security dudes. I could see Maggie bustling about just inside, and a few other familiar faces. Crew guys, some of Liv’s team. The place was loud, packed with bodies, and I saw someone gesturing to Liv, letting her know we were about to walk in.

Elle rubbed at my neck with her thumb like a doting girlfriend. I didn’t mind the feeling.

“Good?” I asked her, smiling a little as she scrutinized me. I really didn’t give a fuck if I had her lipstick all over me.

“Good,” she said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.

As we walked into the bar, hand-in-hand, I took a deep breath.

Candles were lit in candelabras all across the stage, and a giant chandelier hung above the dance floor. The bar tables and chairs had been moved to the outside walls, and the room was full. The cameras and lighting were all set, and as Elle and I walked into the room, I knew we were being filmed.

Since we’d been delayed having limo sex, everyone else was already here. And as they greeted us, I knew they knew about the pregnancy. I’d called Zane myself to tell him. Elle had told everyone else.

It was early yet, though. We weren’t gonna tell the media or the public, or even Liv and her crew, about the baby. Not until we were safely through the first trimester. But we’d told the band, the inner circle.

Jessa seemed genuinely thrilled for us. Maybe it was simply that no one wanted to elbow a pregnant woman out of the way, but she was the first to hug us both.

Brody shook my hand next. When he hugged Elle, just like he had the other day in his office, I felt relieved all over again. I knew that accepting me back into the fold would be a process with Brody. But as far as he and Elle were concerned, there didn’t seem to be any collateral damage to their relationship. If anything, he seemed to have softened toward her since finding out she was pregnant.

Jesse even congratulated us, quietly. His gaze was heavy on me, measured, as he shook my hand. It was the way a guy looked at you when he was planning to keep an eye on you, and he wanted you to know it.

Fair enough.

Katie hugged us both, too, and congratulated us. There was something in her eyes as she did it. A tentative joy, with a vulnerability beneath. I might’ve said it was envy, but I couldn’t be sure.

Ash was here, and he congratulated me, too. I didn’t expect that. I knew he had to be disappointed; he’d lost Elle, and I wasn’t sure how deep his feelings for her went. But I knew his reputation as a “player,” and since Elle wasn’t having his baby, at least now he was free to play on. Either way, he was gracious about it. He didn’t stay close for long, but he shook my hand and gave Elle a quick hug before disappearing into the crowd.

After we’d greeted everyone, the band had a quick chat with Liv that I didn’t really hear. Then we were directed to the stage. The cameras were on us, and the crowd was herded closer to the stage, in anticipation of the show we were about to put on.

The whole room went up in screams and applause when Dylan strode up the steps to the stage. He strolled across and got in place behind his drum kit. Zane went next, then Jesse, then Elle.

I followed her up the stairs, and the applause when I took the stage was kinda deafening. It was all pretty surreal. I was in a bit of a fog, but my feet just took me where I needed to go.

Elle picked up her bass, and as I walked by, she turned to me—and kissed me on the cheek. I stopped in my tracks. People screamed.

I knew everyone was watching us. I knew the guys in the band were watching.

We hadn’t yet announced, on camera, that Elle and I were a couple. Liv knew, but we’d all agreed we’d just let it play out organically, for now. By the end of this shoot, I was pretty sure it would be totally fucking obvious. I couldn’t imagine keeping my hands off Elle for the whole night, and the cameras would be on us for hours.

As I recovered from that unexpected kiss, Zane swooped in with a hug and a back slap. “It all starts now, brother,” he said in my ear.

Dylan reached across his drums to shake my hand.

Then Jesse handed me my guitar. “The past is done,” he said. “Welcome to a new beginning.” The look in his dark eyes was welcoming, if not still a little guarded.

I nodded and took the Gibson. I strapped it on, finding my position. It was a new guitar; a gift from Elle.

I glanced at her. A few feet away, she was standing ready, her bass in her hands, the sparkly silver strap over her shoulder. She smiled at me. And I had to look away before tears formed in my eyes.

I glanced down at my feet. My old snakeskin boots, planted firmly on the stage.

And as Zane grabbed his mic and started talking to the crowd, I said a little prayer in my head—to no one in particular. To God? To the gods of rock? To my dead parents? Didn’t matter. I just put it out into the universe. It was one of only a few times I’d ever done that in my life, and as usual, the prayer wasn’t for me.

It was for my band.

For Dirty.

When I looked up, I saw all the faces in the crowd, looking back at me. I saw the cameras.

I looked around the stage at my band, and I felt their energy building—ready to tear lose. My heart beat heavily, but slowly, in my chest. I took another deep breath.

I still had a lot to prove. I knew that.

The door had been opened for me. Now it was up to me to walk through it, and rock the house down.

But I was more than fucking ready for that challenge.

“We’re gonna start this night off right,” Zane announced, “with a kick-ass new song, written by our new/old guitarist. You know him as Seth Brothers.” Zane grinned, and winked at me over his shoulder as the crowd screamed their approval.

I grinned back at him.

“We like to call this one ‘To Hell and Back,’” he said.

Then Dylan counted us in.

And as the song kicked in, I started to play.