We have dinner in Hollywood. The place is too loud and dark for much conversation. Truth be told, there's not much room in my head for conversation. My thoughts are in the gutter. Every last one of them.

My favorite club is three blocks away. We walk like a couple: arms around each other's waists, barely any space between us.

Even in my fuck-me heels, I'm several inches shorter than Drew. I force myself to take long steps to keep up.

It's a tiny little place. Fits a hundred people, maybe, and it's used for rock shows as often as it's used for all-out raves. Tonight is a rave, thank goodness. I want to get lost in the dark and the music and the feeling of Drew's hands on my hips.

Drew nods to the bouncer like he knows the guy. We cut in line and walk into the club.

Even in the entrance hallway, the music is pounding. It sinks all the way to my bones. My hips sway as I walk. It's pure reflex. Utterly out of my control.

We step into the main room. The lights are blue and white and the dance floor is packed to the brim with people lost in the rhythm.

I squeeze Drew's hand and pull him onto the dance floor. He slides his hands around my hips and brings my body into his.

Either the guy dances more often than he lets on or he's a natural.

I hook my arms behind his neck and look deep into his eyes. There's something there—something so much more than friendship or attraction or his obnoxious-yet-sweet need to protect me.

His hands go to my ass and he holds me tighter. No coyness. No games. Nothing but the purest, sweetest want.

Everything except the beat drifts away until I'm only aware of the sensations in my body. The strain of my thighs. The stretch of my chest. The warmth of Drew's body against mine. His hands digging into the fabric of my dress. The ache between my legs building until I want to scream.

He drags his hands down my hips and thighs. His fingertips skim the edge of my skirt. I pant. I grab onto his shoulders as tightly as I can. Half of me wants to strip right here on the dance floor... anything that gets his hands on my body. The other half wants to run screaming. Drew discovering my scars in a loud, sweaty club has catastrophe written all over it.

I take a step back, breaking his grip. I'm cold all over and the ache inside me is so much more desperate.

His expression flashes with concern. Then it's back to that awful confused look, the same one he had in the kitchen when everything almost went to shit.

I offer my best I'm not at all freaked out about you seeing my scars smile. "Let's get drinks."

He presses his palm flat against my back as he leads me to the bar. His hand slides around my hips and over my ass.

I bite my lip to keep from panting. It's loud and crowded here. The light is strange. After two drinks, it's possible Drew won't notice the scars.

It's possible I'll be able to avoid this for another month. A week. Hell, even a day as someone other than the poor damaged girl would be fantastic.

I search Drew's expression for any signs to how he'll react, but all I see is desire.

He leans over the bar and signals the bartender. He turns to me. "Paloma?"

I nod.

He orders for us. Paloma and a tequila on the rocks.

Drew turns back to me, his eyes are wide with excitement.

I bite my lip. I can't tell him now. Not here. Not yet. Maybe after a drink or two or three. Maybe after I'm sure he won't run away.

He makes eye contact. "You're going to drive me out of my fucking mind if you keep looking at me like that."

My tongue slides over my lips. "Like what?"

"Like you have to tell me something awful."

Drew slaps two twenties on the bar. "Keep the change." He hands me my drink and presses his palm into the small of my back. His eyes get serious. "Tell me it's not something awful."

I clear my throat and offer my perfect calm smile. "I thought you could read my mind."

"Usually."

"You're so obnoxious sometimes, you know." I take a step toward the dance floor. "Ever consider that I have something on my mind that I don't want to talk about?"

"No."

"Or that I'd rather not talk at all?"

"No." He slides his hand around my hip. "I have to know everything about you. I have to know every part about you."

"What about the ugly parts?"

He runs his fingertips over my cheek. "There are no ugly parts."

I bury myself in my drink. Sugar and citrus and loads of tequila. But this isn't coming out easier. "You've really hurt your bargaining position by admitting how badly you want to fuck me."

He grabs my ass and holds my body against his. "I see that hint of desperation in your eyes. You want it even worse than I do."

I shake my head.

His lips close over mine and he kisses me so I almost topple over.

Fuck. That's amazing.

The kiss breaks. I go back to my drink like I'm not even fazed, but I'm not selling that story. I'm flushed and panting. My legs are shaking. My arms are riddled with goosebumps.

I don't know who wants it worse, but I want it so badly I could kill someone.

Drew, I have to warn you about something. It's not a big deal, but I have some scars on my thighs. Who am I kidding? It's a huge deal and I wouldn't even consider letting anyone else touch them.

I will the words to form in my throat, but they don't. Drew's expression gets serious. If I don't act fast, the next thing out of his mouth will be something about not fucking me until I tell him what's wrong.

I take a deep breath. "I should probably tell you something."

"Is it important?"

"It might be."

He raises a brow. "Kendrick, you know if it's important."

"It is." I take a long sip. "But I'm terrified it's going to change the way you feel about me."

"There's nothing you can say that will talk me out of fucking you." Drew finishes his drink and sets it on a side table in one smooth motion. He moves back toward me. His hands skim the hem of my dress. "But first, I want to have you here."

My breath catches. Here as in on the dance floor here? That's so... I can't even...

I can't even believe I'm considering this.

Drew grabs my wrist, the left. I go to pull my hand to my chest but stop myself. He looks at me funny for a second but he shakes it off.

We move to the middle of the dance floor. No pretenses. No waiting. No conversation. His lips slide over mine. His hands go to my hips and he grinds against me.

My body is buzzing already. I hold his head against mine so I can suck on his lips. He tastes so good. Like Drew. The word dances around my brain. It's better than the music. Better than anything I've ever felt.

I rock my hips against his in time with the bass line. He's hard and he groans with every brush of my body against his. I turn and press my back against him, my ass against his crotch. He sinks his teeth into my neck. He drags his hands to the neckline of my dress.

I arch my back to press my crotch against his. Drew lets out a low groan. He sucks on my ear so hard I almost scream. His hand trails over the jut of my hip bone, until his fingers are right over my clit. The dress is in the way, sure, but there's no mistaking the pleasure flooding my body.

My cheeks flush. I'm suddenly aware that we're in a crowded club, surrounded by other people. I straighten my back and turn around so I'm facing Drew.

He sucks on my neck. Then my ear. I dig my hands into his hair. I let out a low moan.

We're barely dancing now. I'm too caught up in the sensations in my body to tune in to the music. I only shift my hips to press my body against his, so I can feel his cock straining against his jeans.

Every shift of his hips sends a wave of pleasure through my body. I relax into his touch, utterly powerless to feel anything else.

He traces the neckline of my dress then slides his hand under it. His fingertips brush against my nipples. A shock of pleasure rushes straight from my sex to my toes. I'm going to go mad if he doesn't fuck me properly.

He plays with my nipple until I'm panting. His lips sink into mine. His tongue plunges into my mouth. I hold onto his arms for dear life.

Drew breaks our kiss. He brings his mouth to my ear and adjusts my dress so I'm fully covered everywhere. "Follow me."

His hand slides to my hip. He leads me off the dance floor and toward the back of the club. There's a small hallway and a door marked Crew Only.

Drew opens the door carefully. The room is black, almost dead black, and it's stuffed with equipment for shows—costumes, amps, vanity. It's a tiny room, but it's empty.

He pulls me inside, pushes the door closed, and presses me against it in one smooth motion.

I open my mouth to speak, to really warn him, but before a word can form, Drew is kissing me.

He pulls the straps of my dress off my shoulders and pushes it to my waist. I'm not wearing a bra, thank God. To torture him and maybe myself.

He kisses his way to my breast and flicks his tongue against my nipple. My hands go to his hair. I press my back against the door. God, he feels so good.

"Drew," I gasp. "Now."

He brings his lips back to mine and kisses me hard. I lift my dress enough to kick off my underwear and then I pull it back in place.

Drew pulls the condom from his pocket. I unzip his jeans and push them off his hips. Then the boxers.

Holy shit.

He's huge.

I wrap my hand around his cock and rub him until he shudders. He bites my neck hard, groaning into my skin.

I unwrap the condom and slide it over him.

He grabs onto my hips and lifts me. I take a deep breath and hook my legs around his waist.

There's that sharp tug of rubber as he slides inside me.

He thrusts into me. It's deep enough to hurt. I gasp, digging my nails into his shoulders until the pain turns to pleasure.

This is exactly where I should be.

He holds me against the door and thrusts into me. "Fuck. You feel good."

I attempt to verbalize some kind of agreement but it comes out as a loud moan.

Drew brings one hand to my mouth and slides two fingers between my lips. There's something magical about those hands. They do something to me.

I suck on his fingers, pressing my tongue against their soft pads. He holds me against the door, thrusting into me harder and harder and harder.

Every muscle in my body is awake and alive. Hell, every nerve is tuned to the same frequency and they're headed straight to an orgasm.

I suck on Drew's fingers so I won't groan. It's not enough to contain the pressure building inside me. His hands dig into the delicate skin on my hips. A few inches from my scars, but right now I don't care.

The only thing that matters is him inside me.

I pull my mouth off his fingers and kiss him as hard as I can. He plays with my nipples. It's just soft enough to send pang after pang of desire shooting through me.

My body buzzes. I hold him tighter. Kiss him harder. Buck my hips to drive him deeper.

He groans into my neck. His nails sink into my skin. He's close. I'm fucking Drew and he's close.

I must have died and gone to heaven.

He rubs his thumb over my nipple. There. I break our kiss to let out a low groan.

He does nothing to keep me quiet. He rubs me the same way. He thrusts into me until I let out a scream. And then he keeps doing it. Just. Like. That.

The pressure tenses and tenses, until it's almost too much to take. I hold him tighter. Groan louder. Rock my hips to push him even deeper.

There.

An orgasm rises up inside me. Tighter and tenser and harder.

He thrusts into me again and I teeter over the edge. I come in spasms, all that delicious tension releasing into pure ecstasy.

"Drew," I groan.

His name is still the best thing I've ever heard.

Drew kisses me deeply. He shudders. Almost there.

Almost all mine.

I lose myself in the feeling of him inside me. Drew is about to come. I pinch myself to check if I'm dreaming.

Wide awake.

He groans into my mouth. There's this desperate need pouring from him to me and back again. I've wanted this for so long. And he has too.

And it's perfect.

He releases the kiss and groans my name into my ear. "Kara." His nails dig into my skin as he thrusts one last time.

And he comes. I can feel his cock pulsing, even with the condom. I can feel it in his breath and his hands and the muscles in his chest.

"Fuck." Drew releases me.

I unhook my legs, plant them on the ground, and pull my dress back on.

He shifts back into his jeans and discards the condom in a trash can on the other side of the room.

And then he's back to me.

He's mine.

He squeezes my hand. "You're amazing."

"Drew." I wrap my arms around him. "Take me home so we can do that again."

"I thought you'd never ask."