Ash pecked Skye’s cheek and flashed a not-so-innocent grin. “You definitely need to lay off the champagne. I’m officially cutting you off.”

She giggled, loving the way his lips glided against her skin. “I’m fine.”

In fact, she felt fabulous—a bit tipsy certainly but happily buzzed. Ash had her forgetting about Spencer's betrayal with the long-legged bitch. And, like Ash, she was tired of the no-sex clause. When they made it back to the hotel room, she was going to peel him out of those jeans that were slung low in all the right places and show him a thing or two about payback.

A bored-looking city employee called out from behind the caged glass, “Next.”

Ben and Edna shuffled to the window, and Skye and Ash trailed behind them, supportive of their newly-to-be-wed-again friends.

“May I help you?” The woman with flame-red streaks between her ebony hair barely glanced at Ben. She looked down at the paperwork on her desk, filing the requests of the previous couple. A faded smiley face decorated her name tag that proclaimed her as Marge.

Edna’s voice warbled as she explained what they wanted, “We’re here for a marriage certificate. Ben and I want to renew our vows.” She cupped Ben’s cheek, the light of her love shining in her glistening eyes.

Marge took in Ben and Edna and then blinked when she saw Ash. “Hey, you look familiar.”

Ash rocked back on his heels and answered, “I have a familiar face.”

“Well,” Marge said with a sniff, “I need identification from the bride and groom for the marriage certificate.”

Ben fumbled, pulling his wallet out of his pants pocket, while Edna had her massive purse open, digging through its contents.

Ben clasped Edna’s hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Edna said with a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

Marge jabbed the eraser of her pencil against the glass. “Are you the witnesses?”

Marge looked to Skye and Ash. The clerk’s tone turned irritated as she rolled her eyes and held out her hand. “I need IDs.”

“Ours?” A confused expression crossed Ash’s face.

The woman nodded with a look of incredulity. “If you’re going to be a part of the ceremony, I need ID.”

Marge pulled out two sets of paperwork and marked them with her pencil. Meanwhile, Skye and Ash fished out their identifications, and along with Ben and Edna, they slid their passports through the window to a grumbly Marge.

Skye whispered to Ash, “What’s her problem?”

“Shh,” Ash said, “be nice.” He beamed a rock-star smile at Marge, who flipped through the stack of identification.

Her eyes widened when she looked at Ash’s ID.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

“What?”

“Didn’t think this through.” He discreetly nodded toward Marge and the shocked expression on her face.

“At least she recognized you,” Skye whispered with a slur. She poked him in the ribs.

Ash stepped to the window. “Um, Marge,” he said, using his ultra-sexy voice, “this is supposed to be a quiet weekend for me and my girl.” He smiled at Skye, and then turned back to Marge. “You know, no fuss?”

Skye gave a dorky half-wave to Marge.

Ash laid the charm on a little thick, pressing the tips of his fingers on the glass. “Can we keep this kind of…quiet?”

Marge stared at him with starstruck eyes. She slid a piece of paper along with a ballpoint pen over to Ash. “I can’t believe who’s standing at my window.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I promise not to say a word.” She brought her fingers to her lips and mimed zipping them, tossing away the key. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you, Marge. We’re here to support Ben and Edna.”

Marge moistened her lips. “Got that. Renewing vows and the wedding.” She pointed to the paper. “Can you sign an autograph for me?”

“I’d love to.” He graced Marge with another sparkling smile. “Now, is there any way to speed up this paperwork?”

Marge collected the forms. “Normally, I wouldn’t…but considering who you…” She laughed and then waved at the four of them. With a deep breath, she paused. “I’ll take care of everything. Give me a sec, and I’ll have all the forms filled out. No one will know you are here.”

Ben glanced at Ash. “You some kind of hotshot?”

Ash gave a sigh. “I sing a little.”

Skye snorted with Marge’s excited departure. “You know she’s probably texting her best buddies right now.”

Ash ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. That’s what has me worried. She texts a few friends, and then they text a few…” He gripped her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Ash pulled out his phone. A long expression tugged at his face as he texted. “I didn’t want the crazies barging in on our time. I just wanted you.”

“I want you, too.” Now that she’d said it, she couldn’t deny the truth even if she’d known him for only two days—three, if she counted the day they’d met. And how could she forget that toe-curling first kiss?

Ben wrapped his arm around Edna. “You two make a really great couple.”

A flush heated Skye’s face.

Marge returned with the paperwork. She slid it halfway under the counter and then collected the fee from Ben.

Her eyes devoured Ash. “You need to sign here and here.”

Everyone signed the papers.

Then, Marge waved them to a set of double doors. “The justice of the peace has to make it official, but I already had the papers signed. You won’t have to come back and stand in line again.” She winked at Ash. “But you need the official ceremony to make it legal. The marriage certificate will be mailed in six to eight weeks.”

Ben tilted Edna’s chin and kissed her. Skye’s stomach clenched as she watched how in love the older couple was. She was not envious of their bond but more hopeful about one day having even a slice of the magic they shared.

“The justice is waiting. I told her you wanted to keep things quiet.” She put her fingers to her lips. “She thinks it’s so romantic. Down that hall, second door on the left.”

Ash clutched his cell phone in his hand, head bowed, while he followed Ben down the hall. He chewed at his lower lip.

“What’s up?” Skye asked.

“I texted my manager, but I don’t know if we can get security here fast enough.”

She cocked her head. “What do you mean, security?”

“Let’s just hope Marge’s job keeps her too busy to keep up with her social media updates. If she lets it slip that I’m here, the paparazzi will descend on us. You have no idea what that’s like.”

They followed Ben and Edna into the justice of the peace’s chambers, coming to a stop before the woman’s mahogany desk.

“It’ll be fine,” Skye said softly. “We’re almost done. We finish this, drop them off, go back to the hotel…”

“You don’t understand. We need to leave.”

Ben cleared his throat.

Skye looked up. Their conversation was holding up the festivities. “Sorry.”

A woman in a business suit sat behind the massive desk. In her late forties, she had her hair swept back in an elegant and immaculate French twist. She stood and came around the desk, hand extended in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said to Ash. “My son is a huge fan.”

Ash smiled and inclined his head. “Thank you very much, ma’am.”

She looked uncertain. “I know it’s unprofessional to ask, but he would kill me if he knew I’d met you and hadn’t asked. Would you mind?” She held out a pad of paper.

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Adam. He’s sixteen.”

Skye was happy to see Ash taking the time to write the woman’s son a lengthy note.

“Does it matter where we stand?” Skye asked.

The woman shook her head. “Not really.”

Ben and Edna stood in front of the desk. Ash went to Ben’s side, and Skye stood beside Edna. The justice of the peace gave them a strange look but said nothing.

“What now?” Ash asked.

She looked between the four of them. “My part is a formality. I just need to make sure the parties do indeed wish to be married. Is this so?”

Ben and Edna nodded.

Skye spoke up, “I’m sure Ben and Edna want to say their vows, right?”

Ben did more than that. He bent to one knee, adoration and the purest love radiating from his face. “Edna, I never proposed to you in the right way, so I’m fixing that now.”

Skye joined Ash, nudging him to remind him to snap those photos for Ben and Edna’s children and grandchildren.

Ben wobbled, and his knee popped loudly into the silence.

Edna’s hand shook, and her eyes misted as he slid a diamond anniversary band over her ring finger to nestle beside her wedding ring.

She accepted his proposal with a whispered, “Yes,” and a flutter of her hand over her heart.

Ash helped Ben to his feet, and then Ben and Edna exchanged vows, fifty years to the day from when they had eloped.

When they were finished, the justice of the peace turned to Skye and Ash. “Do either of you want to say anything?”

Skye glanced at Ash. “Yes. I’m really honored to be here.” She wiped a tear from her cheek.

Ash gripped her hand. “Yes. Me, too.”

The woman looked back to Ben and Edna. “Well then, it’s official. You’re married.”

Edna clapped her hands. “This is so exciting.”

Ash snapped a photo of Ben laying a smooch on Edna’s lips.

Once the ceremony was over, Ash hurried their party to the limo. Less than an hour later, they dropped the newly re-wed couple at their car parked near the Niagara Falls observation deck.

Ben shook Ash’s hand and had him sign autographs for his grandchildren saying, while he had no idea what band Ash played for, he was certain his grandchildren would, and there was no way he would return home without proof. Ash indulged the couple, tossing an arm around Ben’s shoulder and even gently dipping Edna to kiss her cheek.

Skye snapped several pictures before they were able to say their good-byes. Watching the easy grace with which Edna and Ben moved warmed her heart. After fifty years, love still held them deeply in its grasp.

On the ride back to the hotel, Skye’s alcoholic buzz slowly wore off, and her thoughts turned to her future.

Ash put all of himself in everything he did. When they parted ways, she prayed his free spirit would have rubbed off on her. She wanted to give Ash something memorable, a tiny piece of herself, something she could offer without complications.

Sitting so close together, his woodsy scent filled her nostrils, and her thoughts turned in salacious directions. Her eyes drifted to the soft swell beneath the zipper of his pants. She wanted to feel him quiver in her hands as an orgasm ripped through his body. All she had to do was slip off her seat and free his cock.

“We need to get back to the hotel,” Ash said. His leg bounced with nervous energy.

She slid forward to knock on the divider separating them from the driver.

When the smoky divider lowered, the driver met her eyes via the rearview mirror. “Yes, ma’am?”

“How much farther to the hotel?”

“About half an hour.”

“Thank you.”

The driver raised the screen, leaving Skye and Ash in relative privacy once again.

Ash looked at his phone. A furrow formed between his brows “I bet the hotel is swarming with paparazzi by now.”

“How would your fans know which hotel?”

“You’d be surprised how resourceful fans can be.”

Remembering their lack of luggage and their late-night shopping trip, Skye gave a shrug. “We don’t have to go back there. We can check out by phone.”

He shook his head. “My guitar is in there.”

“They can mail it.”

Ash’s eyes rounded with an oh-hell-no expression.

“Okay,” she said. “How about we have their staff meet us out front with it?”

He shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with a stranger handling my baby.”

She shrugged. “Okay, then drop me off. No one is going to recognize me.”

A smile curved the corners of her lips as she thought about sneaking into a hotel to retrieve a rock star’s precious guitar. The fans weren’t hers, and the cameras didn’t care about immortalizing her face, but it was exciting to wonder what it must feel like to be so adored by strangers.

Despite his claim to fame, he was simply Ash, the guy who had chased after her to return a backpack and the one she’d poured hot cocoa on. He’d kissed her into incoherency, and as much as she felt guilty for admitting it, the sound of Ash’s fist smacking Spencer's nose had been very satisfying. The cut under Ash’s eye would scar, and he would carry the mark for the rest of his life. And hell if a part of her liked that a small piece of her would always be in his life.

He’d erased the sting of Spencer's betrayal. Instead of crying her eyes out, watching chick flicks, and eating ice cream to ease her broken heart, she’d found herself smiling, laughing, and looking forward to the next adventure with Ash.

And, right now, that meant retrieving a most precious guitar.

Of course, he might be blowing the whole thing out of proportion. How many paparazzi lived in Niagara Falls?

“How’s this going to work then?” she asked. “If we pull up in this limo, we’re going to draw attention.” She scooted back to him, grabbed his hand, and brought it to her mouth. “Maybe we should rent a car?”

He smiled at the tender show of affection and cupped her chin. “Yeah, we could use a car. Then I can drop you off at the loading dock or something.”

She gnawed at her lower lip. “How about you wait down the street? I’ll walk from there.”

The furious toe and finger tapping slowed to a moderate beat.

Suddenly, he lifted her, positioning her in his lap, settling her knees on either side of his powerful legs. “How much have you had to drink?”

There was the bottle at breakfast in the hotel and two bottles shared with Ben and Edna on the way to the courthouse. Maybe she’d had more than she thought. Certainly, her memory of the courthouse was fuzzed a little. Not that she couldn’t remember the efficient ceremony or the clerk fangirling over Ash.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, loving how the conversation had changed between one beat and the next. The desire in his eyes heated the air between them. A breath escaped her, and she wiggled against his swelling cock. Perhaps she could act upon her fantasy.

He groaned. “You are playing with fire, babe.”

Confidence and a sense of purpose swelled inside her chest. She tucked her lower lip between her teeth. Would he stop her? Her fingers smoothed down the cotton of his shirt as she traced the outlines of the muscles straining against the fabric.

“I want to do something.”

He focused on her lips. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Only a little.” Her buzz had faded, and now, she was left with a strong desire to drive him wild.

“You had more than a little.”

He tried to lift her off his lap, but she clung to his neck and buried her face next to his dragon tattoo.

“Let me do this.”

Strong hands gripped her waist and lifted. “I don’t want you to regret anything we do. I’ve done that too many times, and I don’t want that with you.”

Unwilling to fight him but not ready to give up, she let him move her off his lap. After he deposited her on the seat next to him, she crouched at his feet.

His eyes widened, but he showed no indication that he wanted to move her again.

She rested her hand on his thigh, brushing the side of the bulge behind his zipper. His cock hardened beneath her touch.

“I’ll regret not doing this.” She licked her lips. “I’m not ready to sleep with you—not yet, not…” She swallowed down the memories. “Not in the way you want, but I want to do this.”

He put his hand on top of hers and stroked her pinkie finger. “I’m more than willing to wait.” He leaned down and gripped the sides of her face. With a soft kiss, he lifted her off her knees, pulling her up and away from her goal.

She let him bring her halfway up, her lips following his mouth, but she broke off the kiss and pulled back. “I want this.” This was about taking control, something she’d never done during sex.

She released the top button of his jeans and grabbed the zipper. His body stilled. But, once she released the zipper, the long, hard length of him surged forth.

She arched a brow. “You were supposed to buy underwear.”

“Underwear is overrated,” he said with his signature smirk.

“How convenient.” She stroked the silky skin of his cock.

He hissed and grabbed her hand.

She brushed his hand away and took a firm grip.

As she stroked him, he threw back his head. “Fuck!”

“Sorry, you’ll have to wait for that,” she said with a snicker. “I have something else in mind. You’re going to enjoy this.”

A man like Ash must have had many lovers. How would she compare when stacked up against them?

Ash curled his fingers in her hair. “I should say no, but I don’t have the strength to stop you.”

“Then don’t, but do you have protection?”

He lifted his hips, eager now, and fished out a foil pouch from his back pocket. “I always travel with one.”

She’d been forced to perform this act many times, trained to please not only her foster father, but also a string of men willing to pay hundreds to rob her childhood of innocence. But, when Ash’s emerald irises turned black with desire, she welcomed every step that had brought her to kneel before him. No matter how painful the past, she would not let it steal this moment. Forest always said the best way to conquer their demons was to take control and own the past.

Ash would enjoy her touch, and she desperately wanted to give him everything he desired. She ripped the foil and sheathed him. Then, she bowed her head and kissed the crown of his cock. His hips bucked as the tender touch of her lips enveloped and drew him into her mouth. She released him and licked the tip.

A strangled cry erupted from his throat. He gripped her hair. “I’m going to embarrass myself and come like a two-pump virgin.”

“You’re a rock star, Ash. You can handle this.”

His brow lifted.

She ran her thumb up his shaft. “Sit back, relax, and let me do all the work. I’ve been waiting all day to make you squirm.”

His eyes narrowed. “Rock stars don’t squirm.”

“We’ll see about that.”

She eased him into her mouth, and his palm slammed down on the seat, fingers curling and clawing at the leather. Her tongue swirled around his shaft, dancing down his length, as her cheeks increased the suction in coordinated pulses geared to drive him mad. But she wouldn’t let him come too fast. She knew how to draw out his pleasure.

His hips rocked beneath her, grinding his pelvis into her face, but she had prepared for this reaction, and she rode his bucking jerks with quick sucks and flicks of her tongue.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped as he palmed her head.

He twisted at the strands of her hair as she drove him ever higher in his need.

She swirled her tongue, tracing the path of veins from root to tip. He pulled her down on his cock, and his hips reared up as his ass clenched and quivered. Then, he relaxed and pulled out. She took in a breath before he jerked forward again and again, fucking her face with frenzied need.

Her palms pressed a steady pressure on his thighs, reminding him she was still there, while her mouth and throat opened for him, accepting each of his thrusts. As he drew out, her tongue caught the underside of his cock. The roughness of her tongue dragged against the sensitive tissue under the glans. She flicked when she could before he’d slam forward again with his hips.

Unintelligible sounds swelled up from between his vocal cords, primal animalistic grunts of energy and power, as he thrust. His fingers flexed, pulling and guiding her head.

Her tongue continued its assault, stroking with each of his thrusts. The warbling sounds turned to moans as his movements became less coordinated and more frenetic. When he lost his rhythm, she picked it up, using her lips, teeth, tongue, and her cheeks to combine suction and texture into a tactile sensation that changed every time he built up to a crescendo.

She knew how to read the response of his cock and balls, and when his orgasm approached, she held him on a plateau, refusing to let him come.

His fingernails dug into the flesh of her scalp as he desperately tried to take over the tempo and bring about his orgasm. Each time he drew close, she’d revert to her training, knowing his frustration would lead him to a much greater reward, but he wouldn’t be able to hold out forever.

She listened for the change in pitch of his breathing, that reedy tone, signifying he was close. His breathing turned staccato. She cupped him and reached around to push on that special spot behind his balls to prolong his pleasure. His hips jerked in a final spasmodic wave, bucking and rocking against her face.

“Fucking yes!” he yelled in satiated bliss.

She clamped her lips around his cock and sucked him through the end of his last orgasmic wave. Then she kissed the crown and sat back.

He sat with his head lolling back. A surreal smile stretched across his features, and then his low throaty laughter filled the car.

He held out a hand and gestured for her to take it. She reached out, proud and satisfied with her efforts. He pulled her beside him, tucking her into the crook of his arm, and then kissed her brow.

She curled into his embrace. “I told you I’d make you squirm.”

He tapped her nose with his finger. “If you ever tell anyone, I’ll deny it. Rock stars don’t squirm. You set the bar pretty high, and I can’t wait to repay the favor.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Oh no, not that.

Whole-body-shutdown events would come as she neared the crest of an orgasm, landing her in a state of cataplexy. That was why she’d avoid pleasure and one of the reasons Spencer thought she was frigid.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek. Stubble rubbed against her palm. “I’m not ready for…that.”

He squeezed her against his side. “I’m not rushing you,” he said with a sigh. “I get that it’s complicated.”

She gave a nod. “More than you realize.”