Play Your Heart Out: A Rock Star Romance (Sinful Serenade Book 4) (33 page)

"Technicalities." I pull the zipper to my waist and pull the dress over my head. It's difficult positioning myself so Pete can see the tattoo on my shoulder blade. It's my half of our couples tattoo—an arrow with the words
real or not real
in the center.

He traces its lines again and again. "How did I get so lucky, you falling in love with me?"

I turn so we're face to face. "I'm the lucky one." I lean in to kiss him.

Affection flows from his lips to mine and back again. It's still overwhelming, how lucky I am, how amazing this relationship is, how much he loves me.

I don't have a hint of patience today. I've been busy with school. He's been busy with work on the new album. We're both adamant about putting nose to the grindstone Monday through Friday then spending our weekends together.

It's Thursday. I haven't touched him properly since Sunday. Even after months together, four days without touching feels like an eternity.

I unhook my bra and let it fall aside. The starlight flows in through the windows. We're as good as alone here. It's safe to do this, to do whatever I want to him.

His hands go to my hips. He pulls my panties to my knees.

I'm not waiting. I unzip his hoodie and slide it off his shoulders. Then the t-shirt. His jeans prove more difficult. I can't manage to get the button.

He takes my hands and brings them to his shoulders. Then his lips are on mine. His tongue is in my mouth. His kiss is greedy. Mine is too. I run my fingertips over every inch of his skin I can—his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, the back of his neck.

My hands find his hair. I hold his mouth against mine, kissing him hard and deep. The intimacy of it takes my breath away. I have to pull back to stare into his eyes.

That look in his eyes—that's love. It pours into my soul. It fills the car.

This space is ours.

The world is ours.

He's mine and I'm his.

Our bodies need to be joined. Now.

"I want you inside me," I breathe.

His eyes cloud with desire. He shifts off his jeans and boxers. In one swift motion, he pulls my body onto his.

I let out a sharp gasp as he plunges deep inside me. His mouth goes to my nipples. His hands go to my hips, guiding me over him.

He knows exactly how to play me, knows my body better than I do. I dig my fingers into his shoulders and surrender to his guidance. The car isn't exactly roomy—I bump my head against the roof a dozen times—but I don't want anything else.

This moment, right now, the two of us together, is perfect.

The motions of his soft, wet mouth send pangs of desire to my core. I get closer. Dig my nails into his skin. My lips part with a sigh.

"Look at me," I breathe. "Watch me come."

He groans as he kisses his way up my chest, neck, lips. After one long, deep kiss, he pulls away.

His eyes fix on mine.

His hand goes to my shoulder blade, right over the lines of my tattoo.

I hold his gaze for as long as I can. His deep brown eyes are as intense as ever. They're wide with desire, affection, love.

Pleasure wells up inside me. I dig my nails into his skin. I let a sigh fall off my lips. Then it's his name.

Still, I keep my eyes glued to his. Damn, I love the way he looks at me like he's never seen anything better.

With the next thrust, I come. I groan his name as pleasure spreads to every inch of my body.

Pete presses his lips against my neck. His kisses his way to my ear. Then he's sucking on my earlobe.

He moves faster, harder. I can tell from the way he's groaning that he's almost there. I can see it in the shaking of his shoulders.

I dig my fingers into his hair and take in every second of his orgasm. The way he groans against my skin, the way his nails dig into my back, the way his muscles tense and relax.

There. He moans my name as he comes.

We collapse into the slightly reclined seat. It's messy and it's cramped, but it's perfect.

Whenever I'm with him, life is perfect.

***

I
take Pacific Coast Highway back to Los Angeles. For miles and miles, the road curves along the ocean. I roll the windows down and let in the cool evening air. We're going so fast the rushing air leaves no room for conversation.

But that's okay. Pete squeezing my hand is all the communication I need.

I'm about to turn onto the 105—taking it to the 110 to the 101 is the fastest way back to Hollywood—but Pete stops me.

"Stay on Lincoln." He calls the highway by the name of the street it turns into.

"But this isn't where you live."

"Trust me."

My heartbeat picks up. A lightness passes through my chest and stomach. This is a surprise. And it's something good.

I check his expression just to be sure. He's smiling ear to ear. I'm not sure I've ever seen him this happy and free.

He motions to the dash. "Eyes on the road. Don't want to die before we... you'll see."

I nearly squeal. It's hard to maintain an even grip on the steering wheel. Somehow, I manage it. We stay on Lincoln/Pacific Coast Highway though Marina Del Rey. We're just into Venice Beach when Pete tells me to turn onto a side street.

What the hell is he up to? We're near Tom and Willow's place. Half a mile away, less even. Are we going to see them? It's possible. For a while, we take the route that would lead us to their house. Then we're turning south instead of north.

Not their place.

The streets are narrow and they're packed with cars. I give up on figuring out exactly what it is we're doing so I can focus on navigation. After a few turns, we're there.

Pete points to a reserved parking spot next to a black luxury car. No, it's a black Tesla.

It's
his
black Tesla.

And it's in front of a beautiful two-story house on the beach. It looks a lot like Tom and Willow's place, only it's more rectangular, more modern. The walls are white, the roof is flat, the blue tinted windows are wide.

There are succulents everywhere. The gated garden is lined with them. And the balcony.

Pete laughs. "Of course you're looking at the cacti."

"I like them." I turn back to him. "That's your car."

He nods.

"So this..."

"It's ours."

It's ours. I practically jump out of the car. "Give me the keys."

He laughs again. "There are more cacti on the rooftop deck."

There's a rooftop deck.

And there's the beach. It's right there. Ten feet away. Less. The backyard is on the sand.

It's the last thing I wanted, a house on the beach. My eyes meet his. He smiles and nods.

He bought me a house on the beach.

I have everything I want.

He locks the car and leads me inside. It's beautiful and clean and furnished with just enough.

"There are three bedrooms. One is ours. One is your office. One is my practice room." He presses his lips to my forehead. "Of course, you're always welcome to listen."

I nod. It's still overwhelming. He bought me a car and a house on the beach. "This place looks expensive."

"Real estate is an investment."

That's true.

"I know what you'll say, Jess. You'll say it's mine. And you're partially right. According to the state of California, this place is mine." He stares into my eyes. "But the second we get married, then the state will recognize it's ours."

Pete's talking about getting married. Am I dead? Is this heaven? It doesn't seem possible for this to be happening.

"That something you want?" he asks.

"If you're proposing you better get down on one knee and pull out a giant rock."

He laughs. "Since when are you showy?"

"Since all my classmates rolled their eyes at how my boyfriend is in a band."

"You ever tell them the band?"

"No."

He runs his fingertips through my hair. Then his lips are on mine. Mmm, he tastes good. All the excitement in my chest pours through my lips to his.

I feel steadier when he's around, like I can do anything.

He pulls back and looks into my eyes. "That's petty, wanting to make your classmates jealous. I expect better from you."

"Please, you'll pick out something at least four carats if I don't guide you."

"Maybe." His smile spreads ear to ear. "Is that what you want?"

I nod. That's everything I want.

Good. He drops to one knee.

No.

He's not...

He looks up at me, an ocean of affection in his eyes.

Oh my God, he is. He's really doing this.

Pete takes my hand. His eyes fix on mine. "I don't ever want to run away from my feelings again. I love you more than anything. I know I want you forever." He pulls a ring box from his pocket and flips it open. "Jess James, will you marry me?"

"Yes. Of course."

He slides the ring onto my finger. It's a round solitaire on a platinum band. It's huge but it's elegant and classic too.

It's perfect.

He smiles. "Now,
I
have everything I want."

S
inful Ever After, book five in the Sinful Serenade series, follows all four Sinful Serenade couples. The book is a collection of four novella length epilogues, one for each couple.

The Sinful Serenade guys will also be appearing in the spin off series,
Dangerous Noise
, coming late 2016.

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Sinful Serenade
Sing Your Heart Out
- Miles
Strum Your Heart Out
- Drew
Rock Your Heart Out
- Tom
Play Your Heart Out
- Pete
Sinful Ever After
- Summer 2016

T
hank you so much for reading
Play Your Heart Out
. I hope you loved Pete and Jess's story as much as I did, and I hope you love Sinful Serenade as much as I do. They (and the rest of the Sinful Serenade couples) will be back in
Sinful Ever After
, coming summer 2016.

If you enjoyed the story, please help other readers find it by leaving an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads.

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You can find more of my books here.

M
y first thanks goes to my husband, who not only tolerates but loves all my weird quirks (even my rants about grammar). The second goes to my father for always encouraging me to follow my dreams and especially for taking me to the book store when I was supposed to be grounded.

Skyla at Indigo Chick Designs, thank you for the lovely covers! Tonya, you are the best developmental editor out there. Thank you for always pushing me to take the draft to the next level. To my critique partner and fellow rock star addict, Athena Wright, thank you so much for the notes (but thank you even more for listening to my terrible song title puns and telling me they are comedy gold). And, of course, thank you to Giselle at Xpresso book tours and to all the bloggers who are helping to promote this book. And to all my beta readers and my ARC team, a million thank!

Karine, I don't have the words to thank you, and not just for fostering my obsession with
that
band and
that
musician. You were a great friend at a time when I desperately support. Sinful Serenade would not exist without you, and I wouldn't be the person I am today without our friendship. I will always wish you the best. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I hope you are happy and fulfilled.

As always, my biggest thanks goes to my readers. Thank you for taking a chance on Sinful Serenade. I hope you'll be back for
Sinful Ever After
. I know I'm not ready to let go of Miles, Drew, Tom, and Pete yet.