Pulling up in the service’s rented Lincoln Town Car, I tell my driver to let the engine idle for a moment as I take in Elise’s apartment building. It’s pretty standard for East Robinsville, far enough from the downtown center to be needing a coat of paint, but probably close to work for her and has rent that fits her paycheck. Seems safe enough, I guess, although the homeless guy lounging up against the corner seems a bit out of place. I’m about to hop out to ring the bell when the bodyguard in the front seat does it for me.

Fuck.

I swear sometimes I forget that I can’t just do shit like that, even if it should be no big deal. But since I topped the charts for the first time, the label keeps putting in new rules on their ‘investment.’ Number one, I can’t do shit when I’m dressed in my usual boots and hat, making me more recognizable. Chances are, it’d be fine. But just in case, that’s what the bodyguard is here for. I sigh, leaning back in the seat . . . until I see her come out.

Behind the dark tint of the car window, I can look my fill as she comes closer. And what a fill it is. She’s strutting, but not in an overt way, just a subtle natural feminine roll of her hips. And oh, sweet mercy, her legs, just thick enough to make them sensual, covered in slightly torn white denim that looks painted on. She’s got on slouched black cowgirl boots, and I wonder vaguely if they’re new, but when I scan up . . . my breath catches in my chest.

She’s the epitome of country sexy, with her hair curled and fluffy, makeup that looks sultry and sexy, not too dark but not too bright either. She’s got a face that could sell about ten million pickup trucks back home right now, and that might be a conservative guess.

But what grabs ahold of my attention is the fullness of her breasts, pushed up high in the simple black tank she has on. I can see the outline of a bra, but that makes it even sexier, like she’s dressed down but dressed up at the same time. She’s somehow managed to be both girl-next-door and femme fatale all at once, and my cock surges in my jeans. I press my palm against the fullness, willing it down by sheer mental force.

I clear my throat, needing to get my head on straight before the door opens. I wish I could step out, greet her like a lady, but I can’t. Security rule number two . . . stay in the vehicle unless instructed by the guard.

Sigh. All it took was for one dickhead to threaten one guy, and now the label’s gone apeshit whenever I have to be ‘the artist’ Keith Perkins. Sometimes, I miss the days when I showed up by pulling around back in my pickup and grabbing my guitar case out of the truck bed.

But as she ducks in, climbing in beside me, I forget about my first world problems and try to make up for my apparent lack of manners.

“Holy fuck, Elise. You look gorgeous.”

Okay, so maybe my manners aren’t quite up to snuff after all. I can’t help my mouth, except around Carsen, and even then, I slip up every now and then. I am human.

She doesn’t seem to mind, though, judging by the smile that breaks across her face. She’s checking me out too, and I swear her gaze lingers on my crotch for just a split second longer. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part and she’s checking out my belt buckle.

“You too, Keith. You look ready to rock . . . I mean, ready to country?” she teases.

She laughs at her own joke, but I chuckle, dropping a wink for her. “Definitely ready to rock. Just don’t ask me to dance.”

She laughs, and it’s comfortable for a moment, just sitting next to each other on the leather seat, two people just . . . I don’t really know. The feeling is broken, though when my phone rings shrilly, shattering the silence.

I stifle a curse and fish it out of my pocket. Glancing at the screen, I answer. “Hey, Todd.”

Todd, who’s in either LA or New York, I’m not sure and don’t really care to find out, sounds energetic. “You good to go tonight, man?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for checking in. Security and driver were right on time. I’ll do a gear check when I get to the venue.”

“Good, good . . . what else?”

I roll my eyes at his usual pop quiz, glad he can’t see me. For fuck’s sake, I’m a pro. “KCTY radio sponsor, promote the summer tour and the new single.”

“Perfect. You’ve got this, man. What about the reporter? She’s coming to the show tonight, right? It’d be a good image for her to highlight. Maybe some pics of you onstage or with fans to help kick the grocery store ones down the image search on Google?”

The reminder pisses me off, and I know the grit is in my voice because Elise flinches beside me. “Yeah, she’s right here. I’ll tell her what you said.”

Todd sounds apologetic, and I can understand why. He knows the interviews are a pain in my ass. “I know you can’t say much with her right there, but are the interviews going okay? Tell me if you need a rescue or if we’re going to need some spin doctoring.”

I glance over at Elise, who is pointedly staring out the window, but I know she’s hanging on every word. “It’s fine. A bit rough at first when I slammed the door in her face . . .”

I see Elise crack a tiny smile, confirming my suspicion as Todd sounds like he’s about to have a coronary. “No you fucking didn’t!”

I chuckle, reaching over and patting Elise on the knee. “Actually, I did. But we came to an agreement and it’s been fine since. She’s . . . she’s good.”

Todd laughs, while I can see Elise blush lightly at my compliment. Or maybe it’s my hand on her knee, which I still haven’t lifted yet. “I can’t imagine what your agreement is, and I probably don’t want to know, do I?”

“Nope, you don’t.” I’m not even sure what our arrangement should be called. I’m just wondering if she could stretch across the backseat so I could touch every inch of her silky skin.

Todd lowers his voice, virtually whispering in the phone as though Elise could hear him, and I smirk over at Elise, who’s smiling back, her eyes gleaming as she stretches out a leg for my perusal. “Any suspicions on the you know what front?”

I think for a second how to answer in a way that won’t make Elise suspicious, and part of me is reminded again why I have to be careful around her. I’ve got miles to go and secrets to keep. “So far, so good.”

Todd sighs in relief, and in the background, I hear someone holler out his name. “All right then, man . . . listen, I gotta cover some fires on this end. Have a great show. I’ll be in touch.”

“Sure thing,” I answer easily, glad I don’t have his career. “‘Bye, Todd.”

I hang up, turning to Elise, who’s still not taken my hand from her leg. “Sorry about that. Manager always checks in before a show to make sure I’m not gonna screw something up.”

Elise looks thoughtful for a second, then gives me a raised eyebrow. “So, you’re here alone, basically. No big crew, no manager clearing the way, no team of stylists getting you primped and teased up for stage. That seems . . . unusual.”

There’s not a question in there, but I treat it like one anyway. A part of me wonders if Elise sort of likes it that it’s just me and her. It’s more intimate this way.

“For tour, there’s a bigger crew and a whole team of folks that travel with us. I mean, I don’t need a huge backup band, but I do like to have a consistent crew for that. But for shows like this, I try to keep it simple. I’ve done bar gigs my whole life, so I don’t need a bunch of guys telling me how to tune my guitar or what to wear. Damn sure don’t need a hair stylist,” I say, taking my hat off to run a hand across my bare head. “Although I should get Gillette to sponsor my next tour.”

Elise laughs, moving her leg but scooting a little closer. “Holy shit. Did you just make a joke? I didn’t think you knew how.”

I smile, leaning a little closer to stage whisper in her ear. “It’s been known to happen . . . on rare occasions. So consider yourself lucky to witness one.”

I turn my head, and Elise locks eyes with me, the magnetic pull between us shimmering in the air. “Oh, I definitely feel lucky.”

There’s another one of the increasingly frequent moments where I’m this close to grabbing her by the neck and kissing her, but the car stops with a slight jerk, bringing my attention to the front seat, where the bodyguard is already moving to our door.

Without thinking about it, I grab Elise’s hand, her soft warmth immediately sinking into my skin and forming some sort of bond between us. She looks down, then up, where I catch her gaze with my own.

“I’ll get out first. Follow behind me and we both follow the guard,” I explain quickly. “Things shouldn’t be bad, not many people out here right now, but don’t stop and don’t look scared. Smile and look friendly.”

Elise nods her head, but her eyes give away the panic she feels.

A tiny part of me thinks evilly, ‘Not so great on the other side of the paparazzi lens, is it?’ But another, maybe more nobler side of me wants to protect her from the fear and the pain. Mostly, though, I just want to get us in the backdoor of the bar as quickly and safely as possible.

We step out of the car, and the flashes immediately go off. I basically drag a stiff Elise to the door, a smile frozen on her face as I smile and wave, and I only stop once to sign one autograph for a little girl holding a sign that says Keith, I’m too young to see the show tonight so will you sign my poster?

I know I really shouldn’t, but the kid’s cute, and just a little younger than Carsen. The beaming smile she gives me as I ruffle her hair is worth the delay, even if my bodyguard is a little abrupt, shoving us inside and slamming the door behind us. We’re thrust from the light to being alone in the dark. We’re not really, because I can hear people onstage setting up, and there are no doubt radio people already out in the bar, but backstage in this little alcove hallway, it’s just the two of us.

I can feel Elise’s body pressed tightly against me, her hand still grasped in mine. She’s so close I can feel her heart hammering in her chest, and her breasts heave as she catches her breath.

“Wow, that was insane,” she whispers, our eyes adjusting enough that I can just start to see her face. “How can you do that all the time?”

I shake my head, wanting to brush a lock of hair out of her face but not wanting to let go of her hand. “That was nothing. When I’m on tour, it takes four guys to get me in the building because there are hundreds of people yelling your name, grabbing at you, and shoving Sharpies and more in your face.”

She’s hisses, obviously imagining what that’d be like. “Shit, no way could I do that.”

In the sub-twilight dimness, I cup her face, tracing her cheekbone with my thumb, marveling at the texture. “You okay, Elise?”

I feel her nod, but I can sense the tension in her body, and even though I damn well know I shouldn’t, I dip down, catching her mouth with mine, needing to make sure she’s okay. It’s soft, tender as our lips press together for the first time for real and move against each other.

I feel her free hand move up, and she lays a flat palm against my chest, but she’s not pressing me away. She’s using it as leverage to get closer to me, wanting more.

My hand moves from her cheek to grip the back of her neck, encouraging her and taking that touch of control I need. She responds to it with a moan of enjoyment and desire, opening to let me take the kiss deeper.

Our tongues tangle, and it’s like getting hit by white-hot lightning. Her body galvanizes and she lunges into me, the softness disappearing into almost a thrashing battle for dominance. It’s just for show though. We both know I’m going to win this. She wants me to—she just wants me to work for it.

And I do, overpowering her even as she grabs my belt loops, pulling me in tighter, and when she feels the hard ridge of my cock against her belly, she moans. I grind against her, letting her feel what she does to me.

Vaguely, from seemingly far away, I hear my name being called, and it’s like a bucket of cold water. I pull back, wiping at my mouth. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Elise. That can’t . . .” I curse, not believing that just happened.

Elise understands my muttering, nodding. “Me neither . . . conflict of interest. For work, I mean.”

I know it’s the right thing to do, step away from the woman who has the power to ruin me, but goddamn, do I want to press her up against the wall and take her raw, hot, and fast right now. I think if we’d met under different circumstances, I’d fucking do it.

I haven’t dated in . . . well, ever since I got custody of Carsen, but I’m not sure I could date Elise anyway, even though she is the most interesting woman I’ve met in a long time.

What I really want right now is to fuck her mercilessly until her eyes roll up and she’s fuck-stunned from being pounded over and over. But with a steadying breath, I grab her hand again, loosely this time, and lead her through the dark corridor backstage to my green room. As we approach, a busy looking guy with a clipboard claps at me as he proclaims to the heavens like his redemption just emerged from the dimness. “Oh good, you’re here. I’ll be happy to get you anything you need tonight, Mr. Perkins. Anything now?”

I growl, still on edge. What I need . . . is what I can’t have. “No. Just give me fifteen, ten, and five-minute warnings. That’s it.”

He nods, smiling broadly. “You got it.” With that, he hustles out to the next thing on his list, leaving us alone again.

Shit.

I can still feel my cock throbbing in my jeans, and I know Elise can see it, the way she’s looking down at my jeans.

And we both know that if we rush . . . yeah, we could get it done before I go on stage.