In love as on stage, just showing up isn’t enough.

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Laid-back Benji Park is the keyboard player for the world’s hottest boy band, License to Game. While LtG is no stranger to charity gigs, Benji’s never been what anyone would call a social justice warrior. But when smart, sexy, and ruthless Jordan Kennedy comes along and asks Benji for a favor, he just may change his tune.

As the daughter of immigrants, Jordan’s career as an immigration lawyer isn’t just a job—it’s a calling. She would do anything for her clients, including blackmailing a rock star into performing at a charity concert.

Jordan might actually get what she wants from Benji—complete with a sold-out stadium and one hot night between the sheets—which should satisfy her. But did Benji get License to Game to play her show because he believes in the cause or because he wanted to get in her pants? Jordan and Benji have to decide what matters most: whether you show up or why.

The guys sometimes give me shit for spending so much time working out, but right about now I’m regretting spending all that time lifting not at all. Jordan is looking at me like I’m the best thing she’s ever seen, and I hadn’t realized it until now, but I feel like I’ve done all of this for her. To see that look on her face, to watch her gaze run over every curve and swell I’ve worked so hard to build, god it makes me feel good.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

Okay, now I’m kind of worried that I didn’t get all the sharpie off from when Nick snuck into my hotel room the other night and wrote ridiculously inappropriate things all over my chest. I probably should’ve been mad, but it had made me laugh too hard to get really pissed off. Had every time I got into the shower or took my shirt off. He knows I’ve been kinda worried about pulling this off and while Nick isn’t the best for, like, heart-to-hearts or whatever, he is good for a laugh. Probably the best.

But no, Jordan doesn’t look like she’s about to bust out laughing, she looks like she can’t believe her eyes.

“What?”

She blinks at my demand and then her gaze comes up to meet mine. “This is going to sound weird, but I’ve seen pictures of you almost naked—”

I have to smirk, because, yeah she has. A whole bunch of the free world has. I don’t like being in my birthday suit as much as Nicky—I don’t think anyone does—but I don’t mind it. I sweat my ass off for this body, may as well show it off. “And?”

“And I don’t know what kind of camera they were using but you look like a million times better in person.”

That’ll do an ego good. I maybe flex a little to flatter my build even more.

Jordan looks me up and down, isn’t even shy about drinking me down like I’m a tall glass of water. Then she bites her lip. “Hey, would you do something for me?”

“Like what?”

“Naked push-ups?”

The laugh shoots out of my mouth before I can stop it. Naked push-ups?

“That’s what you want, huh? You’ve got a naked rock star in front of you and you want me to do calisthenics?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

She crosses her legs and bites her knuckle, and hell, I’d do anything for her. Swear her fealty or give her a kidney or whatever. So a few push-ups in the buff? Sure, why not. And maybe once she’s gotten an eyeful and I’ve proved my stamina, she’ll be interested in a different way to get sweaty.

I shrug, and then drop to the floor. I’ve never done push-ups with a hard-on before and it turns out that my dick grazes the floor every time I sink down. It doesn’t hurt, but it sure as hell isn’t as enjoyable as I’d imagine sinking into Jordan would be. Will be? I don’t want to assume anything, but she said she wants me and I want her. I’ve done about twenty when there’s a slow clap from the bed.

“Damn. I enjoyed that even more than I thought I would. But now I want you up here.”

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