Yara had traveled the globe. Had seen things she'd never thought she would. Had even seen the Northern Lights a few times, but never a shooting star.

Camden Skinner showed her millions of them.

His mouth was a menace, his hands those of a magician. The things he could make her feel with a flick of his tongue, a well-placed nibble, it almost broke her.

By the time her first orgasm hit, she was out of her mind. Evaporating under him like an early morning fog burned away by the sun.

While she lay panting, trying to catch her breath, she saw him fumbling with his jeans.

"Yes!"

She giggled at his triumph when he produced a condom from his wallet.

He turned smiling eyes on her. "What? I think I would have had a heart attack had I not had one of these."

Cam stuck it in his teeth and crawled back over her.

"Need inside you, lass."

"Need you here," Yara replied, opening her arms to him. Opening her heart.

Because who was she kidding? He had her.

Things slowed to half-speed then. He ran his hands over her skin, and it felt like worship.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered into her skin, kissing the space between her breasts as he settled between her legs. "Just so fucking beautiful."

Yara pulled him close, wrapped her legs around his hips, dragged her nails lightly over his skin. That earned her a shudder and a low, sexy groan that she felt in her belly.

He sheathed himself quickly, and then...

And then.

And there, right there.

"Fuck..."

His breath was hot in her ear, humidity pooling in the curve of her shoulder where he breathed and grunted and groaned, rolling his hips.

It was delicious. Divine. Deliberate.

"You feel so good," she breathed into his hair.

"Oh, baby," he sputtered, picking up the pace as he leaned up on his hands. Cam's gaze roamed the length of her, from her face down to where they were joined and back.

He looked awestruck, and Yara could relate.

They locked eyes and the world, the universe, fell away.

Cam dipped his head and captured her lips, licking into her mouth in a way that stole every breath, every thought. He snapped his hips again and again, angling the assault just right.

Yara thought she might drown in the pleasure. The wave hit her so hard, so suddenly, that she lost her breath.

Cam's eyes widened. "Yes...fuck. Yes. Yes."

She broke beneath him. Again. Held on for dear life.

"Shit...Cam..."

"Fuck, I'm gonna..."

And then he was quaking, pulsing, moaning. It was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen or felt.

This man. Camden.

Yara pulled him down atop her.

"I'll crush ye, lass."

"No. You won't, just..." She needed to feel him, warm and solid. The weight of him anchored her. It had since their first time together. Yara had a feeling it always would.

Scary.

Exhilarating.

"Don't go."

The words, spoken quietly into her neck like a prayer, almost stopped her heart. Was he...was he asking her to stay? With him?

"Sorry," he said, raising his head. Cam propped himself up on one elbow, just to her side. They were still glued together, from shoulder to toes, but he'd shifted enough to let her fully see his face.

To see the want there. The fear. The hope.

He was in just as deep, which made her smile.

"Ignore me." He tried for a laugh. Ducked his pretty eyes with their enviable lashes.

"I finished your song."

His brow arched. "My song?"

Yara nodded. "Move."

He did, frowning.

She slid from the sofa and reached for her guitar case, drawing out her brand new Martin acoustic with its dark, moody, carbon fiber body and slim contour. She adored the instrument. It reminded her a little of Cam himself.

Sitting lotus style on the sofa, she brought the instrument to her lap. It was a little cold against her bare skin, but she welcomed the relief.

Camden sat up, eyeing the long neck of the thing and adjusting to fit a pillow over his groin, the condom already discarded in the trash.

Yara chuckled. "You're safe."

"So you say," he retorted, smiling.

The first chords rang out between them, effectively ending that part of the conversation. Yara had plenty to say, but let the lyrics speak for her.

Don't let one mistake put doubt in your heart

You will learn from this and make a brand new start

"Are you trying to tell me something?" His smile was warm. Cam reached up and brushed a stray strand out of her eyes, something he did often. Yara loved it.

"I was thinking."

"About?"

"Staying."

She watched him swallow. Cam opened his mouth to speak. Shut it. He nodded once.

"I'm in a unique position," she continued. "People know who I am, and they'll want to hear me even if it's just out of curiosity."

"The pop star who returned from the dead?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I can use that to my advantage. Talk to Warner Brothers about letting me reinvent myself. I think they'd be open to it. And if not..."

"If not, they're a bunch of assholes, and you don't need them."

Yara smiled. "Exactly."

"You plan to live in Philly?"

She met his eyes. "Was hoping to."

"You'd need a place to stay."

"I hear there are some nice B&Bs around here."

Cam narrowed his eyes. "There are."

"Or I could live with my parents."

"You'd hate that," he said, smiling. "I know you love your parents, but that would drive you crazy."

"Room with Siv?"

Camden nodded. "An option, I suppose."

Yara took a breath, letting it out slowly. "You have another?"

The guitar was lifted out of her grasp and set gently on the floor. Yara then found herself in Camden's lap. She straddled his thighs, acutely aware of just how naked they still were.

He was warm flesh and solid muscle. All man.

"You could move in with me."

Yara wanted to make a joke, but there was no humor in Camden's eyes.

"You don't think that's fast?"

He nodded. "It's very fast, doesn't make it wrong. You feel it too, don't you?"

She had no argument against him. She did feel it.

"Yes."

"Then..." He pecked her lips. "Stay. With me."

Yara took his face in her hands, searched his eyes, and smiled. Because it felt so right.

"Okay."

His eyes widened, a smile curving his full lips. "Okay?"

She kissed him, soft and sweet. "Okay."

"Love you. The song," he amended, a look of panic seeping into his expression.

"Me too," she replied, knowing neither of them was talking about music.