A soft breeze blows over my arms. It's still warm. The city lights blur together as I take shaky breaths. I've never been this nervous before.

The door pulls open and Pete steps onto the balcony. Already, the air feels several degrees warmer.

How can I want him this badly?

I barely know him.

He pulls the door closed behind him, and slides his hands over my hips.

Then he smiles and everything else fades away.

His hands go to my shoulders. They slide over the straps of my pastel pink dress, over the backline and neckline until one finds the zipper that runs parallel to my spine. He leans in close enough to whisper. "Turn around."

My sex clenches. His voice is deep and commanding. I want to comply.

I turn around. My back arches as a sigh escapes my lips. My thoughts fade away. Until the only thing I can feel is the tingle of anticipation.

Pete unzips my dress and slides the right strap off my shoulder. Then the left. The fabric collects at my waist.

His hands skim my hips, under the dress, just over the thin satin fabric of my thong. Then they're on my ass, on my bare skin. "Your ass is fucking fantastic."

My cheeks flush. "Thank you."

His fingers dig into my flesh. Then they're on my hips again, playing with the straps of my thong. "Look at me."

I turn so we're face to face. His expression is intense with desire.

It does something to me, the way he's looking at me. Makes it even harder to stand.

He moves closer, pinning me to the wall with the weight of his body.

Dammit, that feels so good I can barely breathe.

My eyelids flutter closed. I soak in the sweet sensation of his fingertips on my bare skin.

I barely know him. We're in a semi-public space. We might get caught. Right now, that doesn't matter. Right now, the only thing that matters is his hands on my skin.

His lips press against my neck. He kisses his way to my ear. My cheek. My lips. I rise to my tip toes, pressing my body against his.

He's hard. I can feel him through his jeans.

From the feel of things, he's massive.

I arch my back to rub my crotch against his. There's too much fabric in the way. It's not enough.

I groan as he slides his hand down my back.

He catches my lower lip with his thumb. The touch is intimate. Delicate.

I stare back at him as he drags his thumb over my lips. Then the digit is in my mouth. I press my tongue against the soft pad, sucking like I'm sucking him off.

He groans a delicious low throaty groan.

Pete pulls his hand to his side. "Close your eyes."

I do.

He plants a soft, wet kiss on my neck as he peels off my bra. His fingertips trail over my shoulders.

He's slow about exploring every inch of exposed skin. That same anticipation builds inside me. This isn't enough.

I know where I need his hands.

But I can't ask… I can't dirty talk. No way.

His kiss gets harder as he moves down my shoulders. His teeth scrape against my skin. He shifts lower, plants a kiss on my chest. Then lower. Lower. He's inches from my nipple.

Lower.

Almost.

But he moves away, does the same to my other breast. I reach for him, rake my hands through his hair.

The music from the inside of the club cuts off. The band is done. There's clapping then it's quiet enough I can hear our breath. Mine is more strained than his, but we're both panting.

It does things to me, knowing he's as needy as I am.

The way he's looking at me—he's teasing me.

Baiting me.

He wants me to ask.

Can I do that? I take a deep breath, arching my back and tugging at his hair. It does nothing to change his path.

"Please," I groan. My thighs shake with anticipation.

"Please what."

My cheeks flush. "Are you going to make me say it?"

"Hmm?" He plays dumb. Kisses his way back to my lips. Then his tongue is in my mouth, swirling around mine. He pulls back and stares into my eyes. "Say what?"

God, I'm burning up. I must be every shade of red.

He brings his lips to my ear. "You want me to suck on your nipples."

I let out a much too loud groan as I nod.

"Should've just asked," he teases. "Any other requests?"

"You're enjoying this."

"You aren't?" He presses his palm against my sex, over my panties.

My response is a low moan.

"You're wet." His voice is breathy, needy. "You want my fingers curling inside you?"

My sex clenches. "Yes. Do that. And the nipples too."

He smiles. "Close your eyes. I'll stop teasing. This time."

Thank God.

His lips sink into mine. Mmm. He tastes so good.

My hands find their way to the edge of his t-shirt. Then they're under it, on his taut stomach. His skin feels good against my hands, like it's meant for them.

Damn, he's a good kisser. He sucks on my lower lip as he pushes my thong off my hips. The undergarment falls to my feet. I step out of it and kick it away.

I'm half naked on a balcony. With a man I barely know.

I should care. I should be terrified. But I'm not. I want this more than I've ever wanted anything.

Pete breaks our kiss to press his lips against my neck. My shoulder. My chest. Lower. Lower. Lower.

This time, his lips close around my nipple. Pleasure shoots to my core. I sigh with relief as he sucks on me. Soft. Then harder. Harder.

I yelp from the pressure. It doesn't hurt but it's fucking intense.

He moves to my other nipple and does the same. I tug at his black hair, trying to keep my voice down.

His hand slides up my thigh. Closer and closer. My legs shake. I press my back against the wall to keep my balance. It's been too long. I need him touching me.

Almost.

Almost.

There. His fingertips skim my clit. He looks up at me, checking my reaction. I nod a yes. He needs to continue. All of this needs to continue.

He strokes me.

His hands are steady, the pressure light. I arch my back to pull him closer. Deeper. I need more. Need his fingers inside me.

My cheeks flush as I try to force the words to my tongue.

My hands go to his shoulders. "Please… Pete… I want you to… To do what you said."

He flicks his tongue against my nipple. Is he going to make me say it? I let my eyes close. I take a deep breath. Okay… I can do that.

In theory.

I dig my nails into his shoulder. "I want your fingers inside of me."

Immediately, one finger teases my sex. My body sighs with relief. I can do this. Can ask for what I want. Hell, I'm practically dirty talking.

Conscious thought falls away as his finger slides inside of me. I arch my hips, spread my legs wider.

I let his name fall off my tongue.

"God, Pete." I arch my back to drive his fingers deeper. "Please don't stop."

He kisses me hard. His tongue is aggressive, dancing with mine. I groan into his mouth. He needs to know how good this feels.

Tension knots between my legs. I'm close to the edge. About to spill. And kissing him back isn't enough to contain my pleasure. My lips break free of their own accord, part of their own accord.

No thinking. My hips shift, seeking the perfect angle. There. Pete stays in time with my movements, going faster, deeper.

He's tuned to my body, playing me as expertly as he played his fucking bass guitar.

With the next stroke, all the pleasure wells up inside me. I go over the edge, groaning his name as I come. I can't help myself. I don't want to.

When I'm finished, he pulls his hand away.

He keeps me pinned against the wall with his hips. His lips hover over my ear. "My name sounds good on your tongue."

My cheeks flush. "Thank you."

"I want to hear it again." His voice gets lower. "Can you handle more?"

God yes. I want him inside me. I have to ask. Deep breath. I try to build the courage. But the silence of the song ending throws me.

There's another sound. Something familiar.

Oh no. It's footsteps.

They move closer. Closer. Then there's a knock on the balcony door. A woman clearing her throat awkwardly.

I turn, covering myself as quickly as possible.

"Ahem. Excuse me…" Her voice wavers as she pushes the door open.

"This is becoming a habit for you," I whisper.

He nods with a cocky smile. "Rain check." He steps into the club.

"Oh my Goodness. I didn't realize it was you…" She clears her throat. "If you need another few minutes, it's okay."

Damn. Being a rock star has its perks.

"We're finished." His deep voice echoes around the room.

My bra and panties are flung over the balcony. That's not happening. At the moment, I'm not concerned. I'm on a cloud. Everything is light and easy.

I zip my dress and step into the club.

The waitress stares at me like she's determining whether or not I'm good enough for Pete. Her gaze goes back to him. She does not even bother trying to hide the way she's gawking at the still very visible erection straining against his jeans.

"We'll get out of here," he says.

"Yes. Of course." She manages to look into his eyes. "Are you two… together?"

He looks at me for permission. When I nod he turns back to the waitress with a megawatt smile.

"Yeah. But keep it between us," he says.

"Of course." She looks Pete in the eyes, leans in close like he's a good friend. "I'm so glad you're moving on from that cunt, Cindy. You deserve better."

Pete steps back. His expression fills with discomfort. Still, he nods a thank you.

This woman has never met him and she feels comfortable calling his ex-girlfriend a cunt.

Being rich and famous has its drawbacks.