I can’t believe I finally have my girl back. Having her in my life was the only thing that kept me going all those years when my old man was beating the shit out of me. She made me forget about my crappy life and the way my father made me feel like less of a man. And with the way she’s looking at me now, I’ve never felt more masculine.

My balls tighten when she suddenly shoves me down to my back. A little black thong is the only thing covering her creamy skin, and I had planned to take my time tasting it all before yanking the material down with my teeth. But she whips my robe open, only momentarily feasting her eyes on my hard cock before she climbs over me and lines things up.

I grab her by the hips before she sinks down. “Wait. I want to make sure you’re fucking ready for me.”

“Trust me, I’m ready.”

Her little fingers guide my hand down between her legs, sinking my fingertips into her wet warmth. I groan through clenched teeth, slipping my fingers farther into her slickness. There’s no doubt she’s ready.

“I want to taste you first,” I insist. “I want to make you come.”

She lifts my pointer and middle finger, pushing them past my lips. A sweet, intoxicating taste lingers. “You’ll make me come when you’re filling me with that giant cock.”

Then her mouth seals over mine and she’s slipping down around my shaft, so warm and tight it’s like I’m taking her virginity a second time. As much as I want to believe she was saving herself for our eventual reunion, I know it’s a fool’s dream and I’m not dumb enough to ask if there’s a reason I should use a condom. There was no mention of birth control or STDs, but I never ride bare with groupies. Belle’s the only woman who ever had me that way.

The stark contact of our connection is enough that I have to pinch the base of my dick to stop myself from shooting in her straight off.

She draws back, her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“You feel too fucking good,” I grumble. “I’m not going to last long.”

I wrap her in my arms and flip her around to lay on her back. She tries to wiggle free, but I hold her down with one hand as I sink down between her legs. “This will help draw it out,” I say with a dark growl. “But barely.”

But suddenly she’s out from beneath me and on all fours, wagging her creamy ass, and I can’t hold back any longer. Gripping her hips, I slam into her from behind, watching her full breasts jiggle beneath her as she fists the sheets.

With a final strained cry, I release Belle and she folds down to the mattress. I fall down beside her with a hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath. At this pace, I won’t have to put any time in at the gym while on tour.

“That was well worth the wait,” she comments with a quiet laugh.

“Don’t do that,” I warn, rolling on my side to face her. “Don’t make light of the shit we went through.”

Drawing her eyes away, she slips down from the monster-sized bed with the sheet wrapped around her breasts. The smile on her face looks forced, like she’s only doing it for my benefit. It’s a sad attempt at happiness, and it makes my stomach churn.

“I’m going to shower. Your burger’s going to need reheating.”

As she exits the room, I try like hell to piece together what I could’ve done wrong.

* * *

Belle isn’t beside me when I wake to a fucking bright room. The night before she took so long in the shower that I fell asleep by the time she was finished. I woke once in the night and pulled her close, but could feel her resistance even in her sleep. Something changed after we had sex. I just hope like hell she hasn’t changed her mind about the tour. Nothing about last night’s performance could’ve gone more smoothly, and it meant everything to have her there.

I slip into a pair of boxers and a shirt before padding into the main area. The damn place is big enough to host a party for three hundred people. Why the hell Reggie thought we’d need anything other than a big bed baffles me, but his uncle gave him a good deal. I could care less where I spent the night, as long as it was with Belle.

I find her at the bar on the other end of the room. In a baggy tank top, she’s curled into herself on a stool, inked arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting on her knees. Her dark hair’s messy and sexy as fuck. I think she might be crying until I see her thumb scrolling over her phone’s screen.

“Hey,” I call out to her. “How long have you been up?”

She lifts one shoulder dismissively. “Couldn’t sleep.”

I shuffle over to the stool beside her, spinning her around to face me as I sit. “Something changed since last night. What’s going on?”

“You’re asking a lot of me,” she mutters, tucking her chin into her knees. “I’m not so sure I’m strong enough for this.”

Her words slice through me with the ease of a scalpel. “You’re stronger than you think. All I ask is that you stay with me.”

“It’s not that easy!” she snaps, dropping her knees. “Your parents and your manager clearly hate me. This lifestyle—fancy hotels, private cars, and bodyguards—it’s completely foreign from what I know. And what happens when the groupies start coming around? Don't pretend that won’t be a problem because we both know it’s going to happen. I have no desire to compete with other women.”

“There’s no fucking competition.” I rest the palms of my hands on her thighs and lean in close so she can see the resolve in my expression. “What’s it going to take to prove to you I don’t want anyone else? There’s never been anyone else. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved. And all that other shit—we’ll work through it together. I had nothing to do with this place. We can stay in cheap hotels for the rest of the tour if it’ll make you feel better. Normie’s an idiot, but I’ll make sure he’s not a problem. I know you can handle my bitch of a mother the way you shut her down yesterday.”

Something dark flickers through her expression. “And what about your father?”

I lean back, grinding my teeth together and running both hands through my hair. I hate thinking about that son of a bitch. “He won’t be a problem.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I let him have power over me for too fucking long. I won’t make that mistake again. He knows I don’t want anything to do with him, and he’s smart enough to stay the hell out of my life. I haven’t heard from him in years.”

She still looks unsure—scared even. I shake my head, wondering what it will take for her to believe that he can’t come between us like he did the summer he dragged me out of camp. “I promise I won’t let anything come between us, Belle. I love you, and I know you love me too. I can feel it in the way you touch me, the way you kiss me back. Why can’t you just fucking say it? Does it have something to do with what Chris did to you?” I stop to push her hair over her shoulder, dragging my fingertips along the silver strand of scar tissue beneath her ear. “Is that fucker the one who gave you this?”

Flinching, she knocks my hand away and lets her hair fall back over the mark. It’s like she’s pained by the truth. “Why does it matter?” she asks, her voice breaking with a small cry. “Why do you think we have to bare ourselves to each other? Maybe it’s best to leave the past where it belongs, Roman! There’s nothing that can be done now, so why the fuck do you want to talk about it? Why should we rehash shit that’s just going to break us a second time?”

“Because our stories are a part of who we are, and I want to be there for you now since I wasn’t there before.” I smooth her dark hair down with one hand and cup her wet cheek with the other. “I’ll never forgive myself for walking away from you in Vegas. I knew that Chris guy was a prick, but I just left you there with him. I wasn’t man enough to protect you, Belle, and I hate myself for it. I fucking hate that you were suffering and I didn’t do a goddamn thing about it!”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, even if you stayed.” Then she pulls back to look me in the eye. “Besides, it’s not what you think, and I don’t need to give you another reason to hate me.”

“Fuck, Belle! I never hated you! How could you think that?”

Though I want to hunt that Chris asshole down and bust his head open for whatever he did, I take a deep breath instead, reminding myself that she’s not the one I’m angry with. I need to get my shit together and be strong. For her.

Lifting her hand, I press my lips to her palm, breathing her scent in while my eyes burn with unshed tears. “Don’t you get it yet? I love you more than anything. I always have and I always will. Nothing can change that.”

With a great shudder, she pulls away, her eyes dropping to the floor. I sense her hesitation, thick as smoke hanging in the air between us. What is she so fucking afraid of?

“I need to get ready for your grandmother’s,” she says before quickly exiting the room.

Sitting alone at the bar, I ball my hands into fists when hit with a wave of frustration. She might think the conversation is over, but I won’t stop until I have answers. Why does she have to be so damn stubborn? Why can’t she just admit that she loves me? Did I push her too hard by inviting her on this tour? And what the fuck did Chris do that she doesn’t want to talk about it? My gut hardens with the possibilities.

It seems it’s going to take a lot more work than I’d expected to convince her to share her painful memories of the past so we can move ahead with our future.

* * *

Until we head to Grandma Caroline’s, I’d only seen Belle in outfits made to rock out. In black skinny jeans, her black Chucks, a gray sweater that falls off one shoulder, makeup and hair left as natural as I’ve ever seen, she’s mouth-watering gorgeous. With my hand slung over the seat behind her, I not so absentmindedly play with her long waves on the long ride. She’s been distant since our little quarrel, so I decide to steer away from any subject that will cause more tension.

“Tell me more about your band,” I say, twisting a soft dark lock between my fingers. “Have you sent any demos out?”

Shrugging, she relaxes a little as if relieved by the sound of my voice. “We sent out a few last year, but Chaz and I don’t exactly have the same vision. He’s content playing the local scene.”

“What’s his day job?”

“He runs a tattoo parlor in Midtown. He makes a killing raising the prices for tourists willing to pay whatever to say they got inked in New York.”

My eyes draw down to the intricate designs on her arms, peeking out from her shirt. “He does your ink?”

I’m relieved when she turns to me with a little smirk. Anything’s better than the cold distance she’s been putting between us since our conversation about my father. “Why, you jealous?”

Shrugging, I lift my chin. “Should I be?” How can I not be jealous of any fucker who got to spend time with my girl? What if he’s the one who brought out her wild side?

“I told you I don’t want him that way.” Then her brown eyes darken. “What about you? You haven’t mentioned any ex-girlfriends. You can’t expect me to believe you’ve been single all this time. I saw you with Brooke.”

Glowering, I remove my arm from behind her to wrap my fingers in my own hair. “Shit, Belle. What do you want to hear? Do you want to know that I slept my way through countless women, hoping I’d find one that made up for losing you, or do you want me to tell you how I fucked anything with a pulse, hoping to ease a bit of the unbearable loneliness and didn’t give a shit about any of them?”

With her face scrunched up, she shakes her head and closes her eyes. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t want to know that shit. I’ve slept with my share of men too.” Then her eyelids flip open and she pins me down with an angry stare. “The only thing I want to know is how you ended up with your tongue down Brooke’s throat that night at Vinnie’s. After the way she treated me—”

I hold the palm of my hands up. “You’re right. Even if you weren’t in my life anymore, it was a shitty thing to do. But she was no different than the others. She was just someone to make life a little less lonely.”

She flinches like it was a personal jab. “Did you sleep with her?”

Fuck. Is this how every conversation between us will end, with anger and bitterness over things we’ve done in the past? Maybe she’s right and we shouldn’t rehash the things that will only break us all over again.

So I decide to lie.

“No. I didn’t.”

With a deep huff, she crosses her arms over her chest, turning her attention to the view of the passing city outside her window. I get why she would hate the fact that I slept with someone who had treated her like shit in the past, but I don’t need to give her another reason to question whether or not she’s making the right decision. Her hesitation is clear enough already.

It doesn’t matter anyway. Brooke never meant anything. I slept with her on and off over the years, but not again since I saw Belle at Vinnie’s. And the night before, when Brooke tried to gain access backstage, I told security she wasn’t allowed. If that doesn’t send her a clear message that I’m done with her, I don’t know what will. She was just one of a thousand decisions I’d do anything to change.

I’ll do everything in my power to make myself a better man for Belle, even if it means atoning for my mistakes—every last one.