Play Your Heart Out: A Rock Star Romance (Sinful Serenade Book 4) (3 page)

I suck down my iced coffee but it's no help cooling me off. I'm still melting. Better change the subject. "No, I, uh, I'm going to law school in the fall—" I cross my fingers. I know the gesture doesn't change the chances of my loan going through, but I'll take any ounce of luck—"and getting caught having sex in public is frowned upon."

"I'll make sure you don't get caught," he teases.

The flush spreads to my chest and stomach.

Must focus on picking out frames. That or I'm going to push him onto the couch in the corner, rip off his jeans, and take him right here.

Ahem. The pink glasses are cute. But are they too cute? I try them again and glance at Pete. "What do you think? Too librarian?"

"Sexy librarian."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like you're gonna drag me to the erotica section and read aloud until I take you against the wall."

"You're trying to make me blush."

He shakes his head. "If I was trying to make you blush, I'd explain in detail."

"Go for it."

"You sure?"

I nod.

"I'd press you against the wall and take off your cardigan one button at a time. Then I'd tug your bra out of the way and drag my hands over your tits until you were licking your lips and groaning my name. I'd wait until you were begging to finally bring my mouth to your nipples."

My legs go weak.

He smiles. "Should I go on?"

"No thank you." Uhh... It takes me a solid minute to get my wits back. God damn, he's too fucking sexy. I can barely stand. Deep breath. I hold up my glasses. "I've decided. I want these."

He nods and calls the shopkeeper.

She pops out of the backroom and waves with a smile. "I can take your prescription back here whenever you're ready."

"Sure." I motion towards the back room.

He nods
go ahead.
His lips curl into a smile. "We'll have an hour to kill waiting for her to fill your prescription."

I nod.

"I have an idea about how to fill the time. I'll tell you when you're done."

––––––––

I
never thought I'd be so disappointed to eat ice cream.

We buy scoops at a shop across the street and take them to a beautiful park. The big yellow sun casts a glow over the half green, half brown grass.

The people here are as gorgeous as the scenery. It's not like Long Island. Everyone is fit with trendy clothes, fresh makeup, and recently styled hair.

I smooth my French braid reflexively. I'm sweating and my taped together glasses refuse to stay on my nose. I push them up but it does little good.

Pete leads me to a shaded spot under a tree. He sits, his back against the trunk, his legs spread wide with invitation.

I'm tempted to slide between them, to rest against his chest and soak in the comfort of a body against mine. It's lonely out here, by myself. Work has left me too tired to accept invitations to hang out. It's easier to stay home and read. Books never ask me to lie to them or stab me in the back.

Instead of giving in to my desire to mount Pete, I sit on the grass. I take a generous bite of my mint chip ice cream. The sweet treat does nothing to refresh me.

My eyes fix on Pete. On his tongue specifically. It's fascinating watching him lick ice cream off the spoon.

He catches me staring.

I make the first excuse I can. "I've never tried that flavor. Green tea?"

He cocks a brow. "That's what you’re thinking?"

I nod. He shakes his head playfully but doesn't press the subject.

Getting close is risky but I have to know more about him. I keep my eyes on his. "You've been sleeping around a lot."

"That a crime?"

"No. I'm curious. Do a lot of women act like the brunette did, interested in the idea of you?"

He nods.

"Any reason why you're sleeping around?"

"Wouldn't put it that way." Pete digs his spoon into his ice cream. "You didn't look me up?"

"No. Seemed rude. I can't quite remember the gossip. Didn't you have a serious girlfriend?"

He nods. "We broke up a few months ago."

"Oh." That explains a lot. "Is that why you're sleeping around, to get over her?"

"Close your eyes."

"Excuse me?"

He nods to his ice cream. "I want you focused on the taste."

"Sounds like a line."

"Don't need a line. You already want to fuck me."

I say nothing to confirm this.

He stares back at me with a demanding expression.

Okay, I'll play along. I close my eyes. My lips part of their own accord. My tongue waters with anticipation. There. The spoon slides into my mouth. The cold, creamy treat is delicious. It's rich with an earthy flavor.

I swallow the dessert, blink my eyes open, and stare back at Pete. He's trying to hide the pain in his expression but it's there, clear as day. As clear as mine.

What would it be like if we let the walls around our hearts down and had an honest conversation? I've never done that before. Not even with Madison. I was always trying to protect her from how bad things were with Dad.

I deflect or throw out white lies without thinking about it.

It's scary, telling Pete the whole truth and nothing but the truth. But there's something intoxicating about it.

I finish my ice cream and stare at the big, bright sun.

A voice breaks my concentration. It's high pitched, a girl about twelve or thirteen.

"Oh my Gosh!!! I... Are you really Pete Steele?" she squeals.

Pete is a good sport. He nods hello and extends his hand. "What's your name?"

"Alexandra." She smiles at him and thrusts her phone into his hand. "Will you sign this?"

"You get permission from your mom?" He nods to a twenty-something woman sitting on a park bench and staring at us.

"That's my nanny," the girl says. "And it's fine. Please."

He pulls a marker from his jeans, signs her phone case, and hands the device back.

The girl stays put. She motions to me, clasps her hands together, and squeals. "Is this your girlfriend?"

Pete's lips curl into a smile. He looks at me and raises an eyebrow.
Play along?
The girl is excited. I'll play along.

I smile at the girl. "Yes. But it's a secret."

"Why?" she asks.

"Her father doesn't approve," Pete says. "You can keep a secret?"

"Of course," the girl squeals. She continues to stare at us. "She's really pretty."

My cheeks flush. Kids her age are not usually so complimentary. "Thank you."

"If she's your girlfriend, you should kiss her," she says.

Pete laughs. "Alexandra, you should be a lawyer one day. Like Jess. She's going to law school. And she's shy."

This does not please Alexandra.

"No, she's right." My cheeks flush. "You need evidence to support your claim."

"Future lawyers have to stick together?" He raises a brow.

I nod. Yes, that's my testimony. It has nothing to do with how badly I want him kissing me.

My heart thuds against my chest. My stomach flutters.

His hand slides around my neck. He's actually going to kiss me.

Pete's fingers dig into my skin as he pulls me closer. The strength of his touch erases every other thought in my brain.

His lips brush against mine.

Every nerve in my body fires at once. His lips are soft, sweet, and slightly sticky. He tastes like that green tea ice cream. And underneath that is something that is just Pete.

My hand digs into his thigh, into the fabric of his jeans. Heat collects between my legs.

But he pulls back. It's nothing. Barely more than a peck.

I want more.

I want him kissing me again, kissing me like he means it.

A lightness spreads through my chest. It's a terrifying thought—asking him to go home with me—but it's exhilarating too.

Alexandra blushes and runs back to her nanny.

He shifts back into his seat. "You made her day."

"
You
made her day." I play with my spoon, stirring the melting chocolate into the melting ice cream. "My friend back home, Kathryn, she has a lot of boyfriends. A new one every few months. Once I asked her why and she said 'the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.'"

"I'd rather be on top."

My cheeks flush. "Really?"

He nods. "I can list my favorite positions if you'd like."

He smiles, reveling in my nervousness.

God, it's hot today. I shift into the shade but that puts me six inches from Pete. It doesn't help cool me down.

"Your friend sounds like Miles, our singer." Pete shakes his head. "You'd like him. He was going to be a lawyer."

"He's the one who tattooed his girlfriend's name on his chest?"

Pete sticks his tongue out in distaste. "You secretly a stalker fan?"

"My sister cried for a week."

"I thought I was her favorite." He winks. "Don't tease me like this, Jess. You're going to wound my fragile ego."

"Would you get a tattoo of a woman's name?"

"No." He leans towards me. "You have any tattoos?"

"None."

"Mine, I felt them, here—" He presses his palm against his chest, over his heart. "Knew I needed them. Felt it in my soul."

"You didn't feel your ex in your soul?"

"Never." His eyes cloud with something I can't place. His gaze goes to the grass, his brow furrowing with concentration. Then he's looking at me again. "You know all this gossip because your sister is a fan?"

"Yeah."

He raises a brow, assessing the veracity of my claim. He must believe me because he nods. "You want to make her jealous?"

"We're not on speaking terms."

"Why?"

"That's personal." My stomach tenses. I want to stop thinking about her. I want my old life to feel like it's three thousand miles away.

He pulls his phone from his pocket. "You don't need to speak to her for this. You just need to trust me."

I scan his face for a clue to his intention but he's still a mystery.

"Jess, Jess, Jess." Pete shakes his head in mock outrage. "You seem like such a nice girl, but I see it in your eyes. You want to make her green with envy."

"Maybe."

"Do you trust me?" he unlocks his phone and opens the camera app.

I don't know him. I shouldn't trust him as much as I do.

The intensity in his eyes spurs me on.

I nod. "Yes."

Pete turns the phone to selfie mode and angles it towards us. His other hand goes behind my neck. This time, he's not delicate. He's not holding back. His fingers dig into my hair. They press against the back of my head as he pulls me into a kiss. His lips brush mine. Then his lips are parting, and mine are parting too.

His tongue slides into my mouth.

Then he's pulling back. It's only a taste. A hint.

It's not enough. I need more.

He looks into my eyes. "Here." His fingers go to my temples, curl around the edges of my glasses. He pulls them off and sets them on the ground behind him. Then his eyes are back on mine, staring into mine.

My eyelids press together. Yes. More. Now. Please. I need this tall, dark, handsome stranger erasing every worry in my brain. I need his lips on me, his hands on me, his cock...

One thing at a time.

He pulls me into his lap. My knees plant outside his hips. They're muddy instantly, but I don't care. For once, I don't care about consequences. Only about how intoxicating Pete is.

He presses his palm between my shoulder blades. Heat floods the spot. Then his lips are on mine, his tongue is sliding around mine, and I'm hot everywhere. I clutch at his shoulders. My fingers dig into the cotton fabric of his t-shirt.

I was with Nathan for three years. We kissed a lot. And there were guys before—boyfriends in high school.

It was never like this.

Never close to this.

I'm panting and desperate when Pete releases me. His hands go to his sides. He leaves his phone on the ground. All of his attention is on me. The intensity of his deep brown eyes makes my thighs shake.

If that's how he kisses...

Having sex with him might actually kill me.

He brushes a stray hair behind my ear. "You want her even more jealous?"

Invite me back to your place. Hell, invite me to the backseat of your car. To the bathroom at that coffee shop. Tell me to skip work and spend the night coming with you. Anything. Anywhere.

I nod. Yes. I need this, need to forget everything except our bodies for a while.

If he doesn't ask, I will.

He stares into my eyes. "Play my girlfriend."

––––––––

P
lay my girlfriend.

The sun is still shining. The breeze is still blowing. The air is still warm.

And Pete's eyes are still intense and impenetrable.

Play his girlfriend... that's ridiculous.

"You don't need anyone to play your girlfriend." I grab my glasses and shift off of him, suddenly apathetic to staining my dress with dirt or grass. There. I stare back at him as I slide my frames on. "You're rich, famous, and handsome. You could find a girlfriend in thirty seconds flat."

"I don't want a relationship."

Okay... "Why not hire a professional?"

His expression gets intense. "I'll make it worth your while."

My head is spinning. I try to tell myself to run a million miles away but my legs won't move. "What would it even mean? How would I play your girlfriend?"

"We tell everyone we started dating a few weeks ago, that we're just now making it official. I'll take care of everything you need. You'll come with me to all the events where I have to make an appearance."

I try to think up a response as he pushes himself to his feet. Nothing comes. God, he's so tall. I rise to meet him. Even in my wedges, I have to look up at him.

He moves close enough to whisper. Instantly, my senses are overwhelmed. All the nerves in my body make the same demand for his lips.

His breath warms my ear. "Tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen."

My thoughts crash together. Every night, I fall asleep worried about how I'll pay for law school. Then there's rent, food, transportation.