Musicians are gifted; this is something I already know to be true. But bass players have the most magnificent hands, and Sean’s reach a whole ’nother level. I swear, he must have an extra one with how well he plays my body.

My hand’s in his as he leads me through the house and up the stairs. My gut churns with indecision as my gaze falls on Coy’s door. Am I doing the right thing sleeping with Sean? The room I’ve shared with Coy lies open, along with the hurt of our broken relationship. No, I won’t pass up this chance to be with Sean. I want this. I’ve always wanted this. Maybe it’s selfish, but I won’t let Coy keep this from me too. I squeeze my eyes shut the last few steps until I’m safely inside Sean’s room.

“This still okay?” His voice makes me realize I haven’t opened my eyes.

“It’s perfect.” My gaze travels across his large room to his bed with messed sheets, and it’s there my heart lurches in my chest. A gasp escapes my lips. “Oh!”

“You like it? I bought it in San Diego, at the charity gala.”

“I love it.” My pulse thrums erratically at the sight. Of course I remember the photograph. It’s as stunning as it was then, but how could he know how much I admired it?

“And I didn’t buy it because she’s naked.” The words roll out of his mouth and he rakes his hands through his hair. “I mean, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Why would I think that?” A chuckle leaves my mouth, but my gaze still hasn’t moved from the framed photo. The woman, there’s something in her posture. In her powerlessness that speaks to me. That it’s right above his bed is kind of perfect.

“The guys . . . It was stupid. Of course you don’t think that.” He laughs and waves his hand, almost as if he’s nervous. Something I’m not used to seeing in Sean.

“Why?”

He tilts his chin. “Why, what?”

I hold his stare. “Why did you buy it?”

He shrugs and exhales in a rush before his lips turn up at the edges. “Because she reminded me of you.”

Maybe it was the answer I was looking for, maybe not. Maybe he’s only telling me what I want to hear. Either way, it propels me to be bolder than I have been. I close the steps between us and run my hands up his chest until they loop around his neck. “Take me to bed.”

His arms settle around my body until there’s no space between us. “Yes, ma’am.” His grin only lasts a moment before his lips cover mine. As slow as he went before, this time is different. Not rushed, but more urgent, as if we both can’t wait for what’s next.

I push my shorts and panties off first, then he does the same. We break apart only long enough for me to pull my shirt over my head and his lips are back on mine, as if he can’t stop himself. He shuffles us toward the bed and I unhook the clasp of my bra. The backs of my thighs hit his mattress and I don’t waste any time climbing onto it so he can follow.

He lays me down so my back hits the mattress with a gentleness that steals what’s left of my heart. It’s a tenderness I’ve never known and my eyes fill with tears even though I’m not sad at all.

“Jess.” My name rushes from his mouth like a hiss, and his features twist with anguish. “Oh, no. Jess, no.”

It takes a second for my mind to catch up. The bruises.

His brows narrow and he dips his chin. The longer strands of his hair fall forward and brush against my jaw. He presses kisses from one side of my neck to the other, so softly I can barely feel his lips.

God, I must look a mess. With my swollen cheek, the hateful marks that decorate my throat, and tears forming in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” He stops and glares. “Don’t you dare apologize for this . . . apologize for him. Just no.”

“But I’m a mess.” I choke out the words and turn my chin away so he can’t see the hurt side of my face.

But he doesn’t let me escape so easily. He lifts my chin with his fingers until I meet his stare. “You. Are. Beautiful. You don’t see how much, so I’ll show you, okay?” His brow loses all of its hardness. “Let me show you?”

I nod, unable to speak without letting a tear or two escape.

His lips and fingers trace my body, starting at my throat and working their way down my body. I swear he covers every inch of my skin with kisses. They’re not possessive either; if anything, it’s almost as if he’s attempting to heal all the broken, and that only feels more sacred. He kisses down one knee to my calf and stops at the inside of my ankle. In this position I’m completely exposed to him, my leg in his hand as he sits back on his heels. He’s hard and long but doesn’t stroke himself, not even once, as if this really is about me and not him.

He grabs my other leg, doing the same but opposite, and lifts his stare to me as he kisses the inside of my thigh. “What do you want, Jess? Tell me.”

“I want you inside me.” There’s no other answer. He’s worshiping my body, but I ache to connect even more.

His lips pull into a wicked grin I’ve only seen a handful of times, making him appear so much younger. He crawls over my body to one of the nightstands and reaches in a drawer for a foil wrapper.

I take it from him, and by the rise of his brows I think the action surprises him. Sheathing him in the latex, I’m rewarded with a groan that could be classified as caveman. My lips pull up with a smile at the satisfaction of having that kind of control.

He lies down at my side and claims my lips again. “I want you so much, Jess.”

“Then have me.”

He turns toward me, runs his hand up the back of my thigh and hikes my leg over his hip. We’re lined up just right, but I snake a hand between us to help guide him inside. In and out, achingly slow, he does all the work with his hips and I hold on. Our bodies press together more and more with each thrust.

Powerful. Controlled.

Sweet. Sensuous.

This feels a lot like making love. Or what I imagine it to be.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His words catch me off guard. I don’t know how he can say that. Or why it feels as though he means it.

He rolls me to my back, capturing my hands in his. He presses them to the mattress and kisses my lips, his hips thrusting harder and faster. “I want you to come.” He releases one of my hands and runs his palm over my breasts, down my belly, and to my center. With his thumb he finds my clit. Yes. God, yes. Those brilliant musician’s hands.

Sean is patient, as always. And this time my orgasm builds, one ragged breath at a time until it bursts. My body spasms with the rush and I swear I feel it all the way to my toes, curling them as I say his name.

“I’ve got you.” He kisses my lips, slowing his thumb to lazy circles around my clit as I come down. He hasn’t slowed his pace, though. Sweat gathers on his back from where I dig my fingers into his skin. I want him to come also. I need him to.

“Come inside me,” I murmur on a breath, and that does the trick.

His features twist with his pleasure and his back muscles tighten to the point I can feel the ridges. “Fuck, Jess.” He remains sheathed inside me, using one hand to hold up the weight of his body while his other brushes a few strands of hair from my face. “That was . . . Fuck, Jess, that was amazing. Thank you.”

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. His stare holds me immobile and I can’t look away. I want to return the sentiment but can’t seem to push the words from my mouth.

Sean acts as if he doesn’t notice, or maybe he doesn’t, and rolls us back to our sides. “Be right back.” He climbs from the bed and takes a few minutes in the bathroom.

In the time he’s gone reality threatens to crash down upon the nice little bubble we’ve created. My body’s fully sated, but my mind knows there’s more to this than a night of harmless fun. I replay those last minutes with Coy, and the words he used, looking for the confirmation I need to justify sleeping with Sean, but come up empty. We fought. Coy alluded to being done, but we didn’t officially break up. So, is this cheating? Do I even care? The truth is, I wanted to sleep with Sean. If I’m honest, I’ve wanted this for a while. Coy hurt me. He always hurts me. But that doesn’t make this right.

“Hey.” Sean struts back in the room and tugs on a pair of boxers before reclaiming his spot next to me on the bed. He brushes his hand down my bare arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before threading our fingers together. He brings my hand to his chest. “What are you thinking about?” His question demands a truthfulness that scares me. No matter what happens next, I don’t want to hurt Sean.

“I don’t want to be alone.” Not tonight. Not ever, but I don’t say that. Can’t.

“You won’t be. Not tonight.” Sean’s lips trace along my wrist, our hands still intertwined. “Stay here with me.”

“But what about . . . ?” Coy. My eyes slam shut. I can’t speak his name.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

I nod but I don’t really believe it. Coy comes with a past of his own, and he was good to me far longer than anyone else ever was. Than anyone ever will. Even with Sean, I can’t expect this to last for more than one night. I have his full attention now, but when he’s on tour and surrounded by thousands of adoring fans, will he still feel the same? It’s a chance I can’t risk.

There are all these things I wish I were brave enough to say aloud, but fear traps them inside my head. After tonight I’ll have to figure this out, though. If Coy isn’t already done with me, he will be now. Sleeping with Sean is unforgivable, and yet it’s the only time I can remember that I’ve done something for myself. Not because I had to or because it made someone else feel better, but for me. Even I can’t regret that. And the way he touched me, even the way he holds me now is with a reverence I don’t deserve. As if I’m a precious gift. As if I’m not ruined.

“I want to ask you again what you’re thinking, but I don’t want to break this magic spell.” His lips quirk with a grin, but his eyes are sincere.

I like that about Sean. He understands when I can’t deal with the heavy and gives me an out. “It is almost midnight. This bed might turn into a pumpkin; you never know what could happen.”

“Exactly. But I’m more worried you’ll disappear.” He winks before capturing my lips in a soft kiss. “Don’t leave. Not tonight.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” I attempt to express my fear when it comes to him.

“Never. There’s nothing you could do to make me leave. You’d have to push me out.”

But he doesn’t know everything. “Sean . . .”

“What? You have to admit my bed is comfy as fuck.” He reaches for a pillow and helps stuff it under our heads.

“Meh. I’ve had better.” Teasing is fun. It’s easy. Why does he make it so easy?

“Bullshit.” He accompanies the swear word with a smirk and rolls me onto my back, pinning me with his weight. “Maybe it’ll feel better with my face between your legs.”

I laugh out loud but the sound is stolen as his mouth drifts between my breasts. “Sean.” Just like that he steals my resolve. Lust surges full force as my hands find their way onto the bed and grip the sheets so I won’t touch his hair. Not sure if I’d push him away or pull him closer, I hold tight to the bedding as his lips move leisurely down my belly until his hands are spreading me wide for his hungry mouth. He’s in no rush, but this time he stokes an already burning flame. It doesn’t take long before I’m flying and then crashing and soaring all over again.

Pulling out of his arms is almost useless, but despite his comfort I really shouldn’t stay. I’m scared of lots of things, but in this moment I’m most afraid that if I don’t make myself leave, I’ll never want to leave his arms. “I should go. My things are in there.”

“No.” He shakes his head and his jaw is tight. “You said you’d stay with me tonight.”

“Won’t that only cause more problems for you? I don’t want to mess up your life.” I sit up but meet his gaze with a hard one of my own. He’s been perfect, but this can’t last. I’ll be better to rip the Band-Aid off now, no matter how painful.

“You haven’t and you couldn’t.” His answer’s firm, and he pops off the bed to walk over to the dresser. “Now, what do you need? A toothbrush? My bathroom is fully stocked; use whatever you need. And here.” He riffles through a drawer and produces a pair of joggers that are probably three sizes too big, along with a band T-shirt. “This will work.”

I can’t argue with him, and mostly it’s because I don’t want to. I want to stay with Sean, even if it’s only tonight. I take the offered clothes. “Thank you.” I walk to the bathroom to change, but before I close the door I find him staring.

“You don’t have to see him, ever again. I’ll protect you.” His gaze holds determination, and I believe he means what he says.

But I can’t let him. Even now in the safety of his room I know this is only temporary. He can’t lock me away from my past forever. Coy’s the freaking drummer for his band. This could never work, but I don’t tell him that. The truth hangs heavy between us, yet I know he’s only trying to make me feel better. Give me some hope because that’s the kind of man he is. “Thank you again. For letting me sleep here.”

“Jess?” He stops me from closing the door.

I lift my chin and meet his gaze. Or at least I try to. It’s difficult to hold his stare when his eyes search beyond my front. There’s a landmine of insecurities I’d rather not divulge, and they’re just waiting to bubble to the surface.

“I don’t want you to regret this. Us.” His eyes widen with what I guess is a mixture of optimism and pain, and I force myself not to look away.

“I won’t.” I rest my head against the door jamb and lay out an honest answer. “I could never.”

His lips pull with a smile that slowly fills his face.

I push the door closed until it softly clicks. Relief floods my gut the minute I’m tucked inside and away from his perceptive gaze. Sean holds me with such regard, such faith and promise, and it’s an expectation I’ll fall short on. I don’t want to contemplate what will happen tomorrow. Where I’ll go, or how I’ll make it on my own. I’ve done things in the past to get by as a means of survival, but that fight in me isn’t the same. That, and I’m no longer a young, naïve girl. I won’t sell myself for another day on this Earth. This time I’d rather disappear.

Pulling on clothes that smell of Sean helps warm my body and keep my worries at bay. I won’t think about tomorrow until the dawn comes. I ready myself for sleep and crack open the door. Sean’s on the bed, his body a work of art, his skin inked with tattoos.

“Hey.” He glances up, his gaze falling to my outfit, and smiles. “This is my new favorite look of yours.”

“Dressed like a child?” I glance down at his shirt, which hits my knees, and the pants I had to roll several times to stay at my waist.

“No. Dressed in my clothes.” His eyes heat with desire like we didn’t just spend all night acting on those urges. He gives his head a little shake as if he were thinking the same and pats the space next to him. “Come on. Let’s have a sleepover.” His enthusiasm brings a giggle to my lips.

I have some big decisions to make. Life changing ones. But for now, I’ll stay in this fairy tale. He makes it too inviting. I run the rest of the way and jump onto the mattress. The impact jostles his body and I grin with satisfaction. “Are we going to stay awake talking until it’s morning?”

“God, I hope so.” He wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me to him so our noses touch.

“You’re crazy,” I whisper, but the smile on my lips stretches wide before turning to a yawn. I roll onto my back so I don’t yawn all over his face.

“Yeah. I am.” He settles back onto the bed and drops his cheek to the pillow to meet my gaze. “Tired?”

“A little, yeah.” I yawn again. It’s to the point I couldn’t stop if I wanted. The day’s been long, but this night has been enchanted. As much as I don’t want it to end, I can barely keep my eyelids open.

“Then sleep.” Sean turns on his side and tucks the pillow under his head. He slides a hand over my belly to my opposite hip. His thumb caresses the skin there and he nestles his face into the crook of my neck. “I’ve got you, Jess.”

If only that were really true. That’s the last thought I have before my lids become too heavy and I give over to their pull, sleep claiming what little is left of this very long day.

* * *

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The door rattles with the slam of a fist and fear claws at my chest.

Sean’s fingers tighten around my waist beneath the blanket.

“She in there? She fucking in there?” Coy. “I will kill you. I will fucking kill you.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Sometimes fear is paralyzing, but in this instance it douses my body with adrenaline. Quiet as I can, I attempt to slip from the bed.

Only Sean won’t let me. He pushes up onto one elbow and presses a finger to his lips. Stay quiet. Yeah, no kidding! Does it stop Coy from assaulting Sean’s door? Not in the slightest.

“I have to go,” I whisper, and try again to pull out from his embrace.

He shakes his head, a deep scowl etching lines into his forehead. “Don’t. You stay here. I’ll handle him.”

“No.” The thought catapults more anxiety into my limbs and this time it’s me holding Sean from making another move. “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“Like he hurt you?” His gaze narrows and drops to the bruises on my skin. He shakes his head, letting loose a ragged breath, and I can’t bring myself to hold his stare. His whispered commands only bring on more shame. “Go to the bathroom. Lock the door. I’ve got this.”

“This is all my fault.” I squeeze my eyes shut as if somehow that will help block out Coy’s angry shouts or reverse time so I wouldn’t be here in Sean’s bed. If I could take it back . . . no. I wouldn’t take back our night together. But this—Coy here and angry—is all on me. What did I expect? That I could go from the drummer to the bass player without any confrontation or retribution? As if Coy would let me? I was a fool to forget Coy’s vengeance, even for a night.

“No. It’s not. We were both consenting participants. Now, go.” Sean points to the bathroom door.

“I’m sorry.” I’m not even sure what I’m apologizing for, but the words leave my mouth regardless. Sliding from the warmth of Sean’s blankets, I pad quietly into the bathroom and lock the door. Pressing my ear against the wooden panel, I hold my breath and strain my ears to make out what’s going on.

Coy continues to bang and cuss at the door.

“Fucking hell. I’m coming.” Sean’s weary shout stops Coy’s racket.

I hope he knows what he’s doing, because something tells me Sean underestimates Coy. And if something happens to Sean . . . If Coy hurts him because of me? I don’t think I can live with that on my conscience. This isn’t his battle to fight. It’s mine.