I hear Brad’s door close.

I probably should have been asleep. Lord knows I wanted to text him every moment, but I didn’t want to be that girl. Friend, bassist, something more…whatever I am to Brad, I don’t want to push it.

But I do want more of him.

So much more.

I get up off my bed, wearing just a long, threadbare Anthrax t-shirt I’ve had forever. It barely covers my butt but I’m not going far.

I swipe my key off the coffee table and then make my way to the door, pausing by the mirror to look at myself. My makeup is washed off, my hair is a mess, and yet I don’t care. Brad has seen a million different versions of me, including the one earlier, stark naked in an alley and getting fucked while hanging onto dirty pipes. I never thought I had that in me, but this man is making me do all sorts of crazy things.

Including sneaking across the hall to his room when I know for sure there are spies everywhere. I know what Arnie said to me, I know what my father threatened, but I can’t seem to stay away from him.

Maybe I’m a fool. Maybe all my hormones are awakening for the first time in my life. Maybe I’m being driven mad by lust and years of obsession over him. Who knows.

But I want him. I need him. And no one else will do.

I open the door and quietly close it behind me before shuffling across to his room. I knock on it softly and wait.

I hear him walking around in there but nothing else happens.

“Brad,” I whisper, knocking again.

The footsteps get closer. The door opens.

He’s standing on the other side looking sexy as fuck.

And drunk as a skunk. He might even be swaying a bit on his feet.

His eyes widen at the sight of me and he cries out “L –!”

But I quickly shove my finger on top of his lips to shut him up and make him walk backward into his room until I’m shutting the door behind us, flipping over the lock just in case.

“What are you doing here?” he asks but he’s grinning. He’s happy to see me.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, putting one hand on my hip. “How drunk are you?”

“Pretty drunk. I’ve had a hell of a night.”

I walk toward him, grabbing the hem of his shirt as I inspect his face. His eyes are glazed, his smile crooked.

And his nose is swollen. Purple is spreading to his eyes.

“Brad, did you get in a fight?!” I exclaim, dragging him over to the lamp and flicking it on. I gasp when I can see him clearer.

“It was Roar,” he says.

“Roar? How the fuck was it Roar? Where did he come from? Why did he hit you?”

Brad shrugs, still smiling. “I don’t know. Vikings do these things.”

“Brad…”

“Oh, right. He was mad that we stole his dune buggy and got it towed. He was stuck with the bill.”

“Oh shit. I never even thought of that.”

“Neither did I,” he says. “Usually when I get into shit, someone is there to fix my problems just like that.”

“Someone like my father.”

He doesn’t say anything, his smile fading slightly.

“Anyway, Jesus. Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine. He knocked me out clear over the bar and then there was this brawl. But it all happened while I was under. But we all made up after.”

I shake my head. “You guys are nuts, you know that?”

“No, you’re nuts,” he says, looking me up and down. “What are you doing tempting fate like this? The moment I saw you talking to your father, I could have sworn you were done with me.”

“Done with you?” I ask. “Brad, I’m just getting started.”

He chews on his lip, his eyes becoming heavy with lust. “Oh really? He didn’t scare you off me?”

“Did he scare you earlier?”

“Baby, nothing is going to keep me away from you. Not your father, not the band. If it’s a risk, I don’t fucking care. You are worth that risk.”

That’s exactly what I’ve been dying to hear.

“Get on the bed,” I tell him.

He raises his brow. “Oh?”

“Do it. You’re drunk and I’d like to take advantage of you.”

“Well I would love it if you did. I’ll give you a helping hand though.” He starts to undress himself, even if he has to lean against the dresser briefly so he doesn’t fall over while taking off his pants.

My god, he’s a gorgeous man. Just enough chest hair, just enough muscle, just enough of a tan. He looks like he works out, but not too much. He’s lean and sculpted and naked, here for me to ogle and admire.

And then there’s his dick. I barely got a look at it earlier in the alley but now it’s here, large and in charge and in all its glory.

I really lucked out with this man. Brad Snyder is turning out to be everything I thought he would be and more. Much, much more.

“Are you done admiring me?” he asks with a cocky smile. Normally I would cut him down and say he doesn’t have a right to look so pleased with himself, but honestly, he can be as pleased as he wants. The man is perfect.

“No,” I tell him and bring my shirt over my head while sliding off my undies. It’s funny how I feel zero shame or self-consciousness when I’m naked in front him. It just feels natural. Right.

Hell, maybe it means I’m cocky too.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look?” he says, his voice in a low whisper. He’s looking me over in awe.

“I could say the same to you. Now get on the bed.” I pause, remembering earlier. “Oh wait, do you have a condom?”

“Maybe?” he says. “We didn’t use one earlier…is that going to be a problem?”

“It shouldn’t be,” I tell him. “I’m on the pill.”

I just haven’t been taking the pill very regularly since we’ve been on the road. I don’t want to risk it again.

He walks off to the bathroom and I get on the bed. When he comes back he has one in his hand.

“Lie back,” he says to me.

“Now you’re in charge?”

“You bet I am. Lie back.”

I’m okay with this.

I lie back on the bed and watch eagerly as he opens the packet and slides the condom on. Call me weird, but I’ve always found the sight to be strangely erotic. Or maybe it’s just that I like to see a guy handle himself like that.

He keeps his eyes on mine, burning with new lust that seems to be born from fire. Meanwhile, I’m so turned on already that I’m wet, the heat building between my legs.

He crawls on top of me, his dick bobbing out between us, grinning at me like we’re sharing a secret. I guess we are.

His hand slips down between my thighs, parting them slightly as his fingers find my clit. I let out a small, anxious gasp as he teases it, his eyes never breaking from mine. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. Even during the show.”

“So have I,” I admit, feeling strangely shy for just a moment.

Something smolders in Brad’s eyes and he grabs my hips, parting my legs further.

He reaches for his dick and runs the crown of it up and down my clit, pausing to dip it briefly inside before bringing it back up.

My eyes close, and I surrender myself to his teasing. I never want him to stop and yet I want him inside me more than ever. He’s not pushing in—it’s just a slow slide, back and forth, but I feel myself opening for him anyway, my body hungry, then becoming wildly desperate for more, just like I was earlier in the alley. I swear this man turns me into a wild thing. I’m both languid and tense, surrendering and spurring him on as he rubs against me over and over again.

I swallow hard, making a whimpering noise that sounds like begging. My heart is starting to sound in my head, my skin is hot and tight, my nipples are hardened pebbles in the room’s air-conditioning.

“I want you inside me,” I tell him. “This is torture.”

“But it’s the best kind,” he whispers.

With a slow exhale, not breaking eye contact, he leans on his elbows and pushes himself in.

Slowly.

Inch by inch.

It feels good, then it feels like too much, then I don’t even know what I feel because all I feel is him.

This isn’t a crazed quickie out in a dirty alley. This is him and me, in this bed, soft and gentle and slow. It’s right. It’s so damn right.

I stretch around him, decadently full. taking the time to enjoy and worship each other’s bodies, to see how we fit, to see how good we can make each other feel.

I’m soaking in every feel of him.

This man.

My rock god.

My everything.

“Does it feel okay?” he asks, groaning through the words.

“It’s more than okay,” I say, licking my lips. I look at him, caught in the heated vibrancy of his stare. “God, you feel so good.”

He nods and watches me intently as he pushes in further. His lips part as he sucks in his breath, and his forehead creases in lust and awe, like he can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe how good it feels.

“Lael,” he moans, his hands sliding to my breasts where he pinches my hardened nipples. “I hate that I didn’t find you earlier.”

Something in my heart swells.

“But you’ve found me now,” I tell him, my voice breaking into a breathless groan.

He’s watching me, watching himself, watching us, where he sinks into me, disappearing. He’s entranced by the sight, the slow push in, the slow pull out.

How can this man be all of this and more?

Each rock of my hips, each thrust of his, pushes him in deeper, makes us connect like magnets, the space between us buzzing with adrenaline and lust and this energy that we share. We’re like power generators, creating electricity, atoms shifting in the air. It affects everything, the way his abs clench as he pushes inside, the tiny beads of sweat that gather in the creases, the dampness of his brow. I reach around and tug his firm ass toward me, wanting more, and he drives in so deep that the air leaves my lungs.

“Oh, Brad,” I groan, feeling the emotions swirl inside me as the energy builds and builds, threatening to overtake me.

My head drops back against the sheets, my eyes closing in shock as I surrender. He’s in me, in so deep, and I don’t ever want him to leave.

This is better than any fucking show that ever will be.

It sets off something deep inside, a jolt of power that hums and buzzes and builds as it that’s slowly increases, spreading, heating up. It’s going to take over, it’s going to pull me under and apart and I’ve never wanted to come so badly in my life.

I’ve never wanted to feel so absolutely undone.

“Deeper,” I whisper hoarsely.

He responds instantly.

With a rough growl he starts thrusting deeper, one hand making a fist in my hair. He leans down, pressing his damp chest against mine, and kisses me, quick and hot, tasting like sweat. My mouth is ravenous against his, the need inside me building and building. Our teeth clash, it’s messy and wild.

And then we find our rhythm, our bodies coming together in synchronicity. He’s pounding and pounding and pounding me, the headboard moving against the wall.

I can’t keep my eyes off of him, his eyes, his body. The muscles in his neck are strained as the sweat rolls off of him, and his eyes are lost in a primal haze. The sounds that come out of his mouth with each thrust are so real, and raw they threaten to undo me.

I’m barely holding on.

The bed slams back against the wall again and again and the sheets are pulled loose, my breasts are jostling. The energy inside me is a livewire and I have seconds to keep in control.

I surrender.

“I’m coming,” I cry out, my voice raw and raspy and drowning with desire, trying to hold his gaze. He holds mine back, his eyes burning in victory.

Then I’m twisting as the orgasm washes over me. My body jolts and shudders and I’m high above this world, made of a million universes. Only warmth and joy remain as I come down, floating, feeling as light as a balloon.

“Fuck,” Brad grunts, his fist in my hair growing tighter. His growling, animalistic noises, the slap of his sweat-soaked skin against mine, the creak of the bed, all fill the room.

Then he lets out a long, raw moan, shoulders shaking as he comes.

The pumping slows. His grip in my hair loosens.

He collapses against me, his hair damp and dark and sticking to his brow. His eyes take me in, his breath heavy and hard.

We don’t say anything for a few moments. There’s nothing to say. We just catch our breath, our chests rising and falling against each other. Slowly, very slowly, everything comes back into focus.

We’re in Brad’s hotel room in New Orleans and I’ve slept with Brad for the second time today.

And even though we’re still at that stage where we could chalk it up to hormones and being two ridiculously good-looking people, I know that isn’t the case. I was prepared to walk, prepared to just let it be this lustful physical thing but it’s more than that.

And I think it is for him too.

“Do you want to spend the night?” he asks me as he pulls out and rolls off me. He gets rid of the condom and climbs back on the bed, pulling back the covers and motioning for me to get under them.

“I shouldn’t,” I tell him. “I don’t want us to get caught. Lord knows my father is probably going to show up on the fire escape at any moment and look in here.”

“That’s extremely creepy,” Brad says. “And I wouldn’t put it past him. Look, just get under the covers for a little bit.”

I give him a wry glance. “I didn’t peg you for such a cuddler, Brad Snyder.”

“Don’t tell anyone. The fansites would have a field day.”

I laugh and join him under the covers as he wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. I have to fight against sleep. I’ve never felt more peaceful and rested in all my life.

“You know, you were really something tonight,” he says to me.

“So I’ve heard.”

“I mean it. You’re full of surprises.”

“All the better to keep you on your toes.”

He runs his fingers down my cheek and then pushes my hair behind my ears. “So tell me what your father talked to you about. Or do I want to know?”

“It’s nothing you don’t already know. The same old warning. Doesn’t want me getting too attached to my role in the band and he doesn’t want me to be corrupted by you.”

I feel Brad stiffen beneath me. I can tell that it bothers him, what my father thinks. I don’t think there’s any love lost between them but I think it pains Brad that my father still thinks he’s that hopeless kid he first discovered. That’s he’s trash and nothing more. I want Brad to know he’s better than my father will ever know.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he says softly.

“I’m not going anywhere, Brad. You know I’m not afraid of him. The only thing I’m afraid of is not being with you.”

“Then we share the same fears.”

As luck has it though, I do fall asleep. When I wake up, the alarm clock is glowing four a.m.

I know we could get in big shit for this, so I get out of bed, careful at first not to wake Brad but he’s nearly lifeless and snoring like a bear.

Then I sneak out of his hotel room, making sure no one sees me leave his room, and head back into mine.

You’d think I would have fallen right back asleep again but the truth is, my thoughts swirl around Brad like a hurricane.

How can something that feels so right be considered to be so wrong?

And when was everything going to stop being so complicated?

If I’m being honest with myself though, I know it’s only going to get more complicated going forward.