It had been pure luck that a decent band was playing the club that night, and sheer force of reputation that got us in around the packed line. As excited as I was, Tyler parted the crowd with his shoulders and brought us right up front, close enough to get sweat flung on us from the lead singer’s dreadlocks. It had been way too long since I’d been on this side of the stage.

I let myself get swept away in the music, the excitement, the energy of it. Without performance pressure, I shouted along to the song. No costume changes at this concert. No mic checks. Just me and the music and the wave of fans crashing around me.

“I thought you didn’t sing rock!” Tyler shouted over the crowd.

“This doesn’t count!”

He laughed, then his eyes widened. Before I could see why, his arms were on either side of me, holding onto the bar. His body rocked with the impact of the human wave, crushing against me. My senses were full of him, sweat and leather and masculinity. The brutal music vibrated my veins, blasting through my body, slamming me back into him. I was breathless. I was aching. Only the knowledge that everyone around had a camera on their phone kept me from turning and taking his mouth right then.

The song shook to a bone-rattling close, and the band wandered away. The lull was like the first gasp of air after a body-crushing orgasm.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked, still shouting from the disorienting bass.

“Long Island, please!”

“Lookin’ to get twisted?”

“Just a little,” I laughed. “It’s the freakin’ weekend, right?”

He shot me a wink and a grin, sending a molten trickle of heat through my core to settle in my hips. I didn’t know how much longer I could resist.

My lusty groan was swallowed by the noise of the crowd, and I turned away to watch people set up for the next band. I hadn’t even bothered to check who else was playing this club tonight, but when the kick drum came out, I started bouncing with excitement.

I felt a firm tap on my shoulder.

“I know, right? I didn’t even know! How lucky was tha—” The word died on my lips as I turned around and came face-to-face with fleshy, fish-eyed Bart Matthews.

“Paisley,” he gushed. “I knew you would be here. I always know where you are. I’m your biggest fan.”

“Tha—” My throat closed, my mouth gone dry. I cleared my throat. “That’s great, Bart.”

“You know my name!” His eyes widened, enraptured. Shit.

“Yeah, look, I can’t really give autographs or anything without my manager’s approval…”

“Oh, I don’t need an autograph,” he said with a big smile.

“Good!” I interrupted him. “Well then, I hope you have a great time, and I’ll just be…”

“Dance with me,” he said, stepping forward.

“There’s no music right now, I’m just gonna…” Where the hell are you, Tyler?

“A hug then,” Bart said, opening his arms and moving closer. I backed away, but the crowd was dense and he was persistent.

“No, Bart,” I said firmly. “No hugs.”

If I can’t get to Tyler, maybe I can get to the door.

“What do you mean, no hugs? Come on, it’s not like I’m asking you to marry me.” His smile was even creepier in the low light of the club, and I couldn’t seem to move fast enough. I was living in a nightmare.

With a grim smile, I turned my back on him and shoved my way through the crowd.

“Paisley! Paisley, don’t be like that.”

The door was so close, but Bart was right on my heels. Grabbing my arm hard enough to hurt, he spun me around.

“You do not disrespect me like that in public,” he growled, inches from my face. “You’re mine.”

“Ow, Bart, you’re hurting me!”

“I don’t like to hurt you, baby, but when you misbehave like that… Blocking me? Unfriending me? And now this.” He shook his head, a disappointed look darkening his face. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Let me go,” I gasped as his fingers dug into my arm.

He pressed me against the wall, trapping me with his body. “I’ll never let you go, Paisley. All I wanted was a hug. You see what you made me do?”

“See this, asshole.”

A fist slammed into Bart’s face, knocking him to the ground. Tyler lifted Bart off the floor by his collar and dragged him to the door.

Shaking with fury and terror, I followed a few steps behind as Tyler threw Bart into the street, leaving him to stumble away into the dark, bleeding. Oxygen finally filled my fear-constricted lungs, making me lightheaded as Tyler walked back through the door.

“Sorry, Paisley, I think I…”

I flung my arms around his neck before he could say another word, kissing him like the hero he was.

He tasted just the way I thought he would; clean and earthy and one-hundred-percent man. Tyler wrapped his arms around me, a protective embrace which quickly morphed into something more carnal as I flicked my tongue into his mouth. His tangled with mine, stroking languidly as if he were savoring my flavor.

Heat seared my loins, demanding release. My hips ground against his, and he returned the gesture, a wild, desperate dance. Finally breaking the kiss, his smoldering gaze melted me, his hot breath blowing me away.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said hoarsely.

I wasn’t about to argue.