Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars #4) - A.L. Jackson Page 0,3

them are currently trying to figure out how to lure me into the bathroom so they can shank me. Get me out of the way so they can get close to you.”

I pulled her closer. “You really think I’d ditch you?”

“Um…let’s see…your friend’s little sister who begged to tag along, or one of these gorgeous women who would know how to handle a man like you?”

Uneasiness flooded her expression, even though she kept her tone light when she asked it.

Trying to play and pretend like it didn’t matter and hating the idea of it, too.

I felt it.

Knew it.

Two of us were treading those treacherous waters.

Reaching out, I let my fingertips flutter along the angle of her cheek, right over that dimple that I’d been dying to touch.

Playing that reckless, greedy game.

“No contest, Mags. No contest.” I forced some levity into my words before I went and said something I couldn’t take back. “Besides, haven’t you heard it said, friends before fucks?”

I gave her a big, waggish grin.

Maggie laughed and blushed and grinned, and shit, she was so fuckin’ cute.

“No…no, I’ve never heard that said before. I guess I must be a really good friend.” She let something flirty infiltrate her voice.

I wanted to sink into it.

Slip inside.

Get lost.

Fuck.

I needed to rein myself in.

Hold myself back.

I was losin’ footing.

That high-wire I was balancing on was fraying fast.

I spun her again. Slowly this time, so out of time with the music, Maggie and I moving to our own beat. Pulling her back, I slipped an arm around her waist and murmured, “Good, good friends,” close to her cheek, wonderin’ if there was any point in hiding what she was doin’ to me.

What I was wanting.

This energy that quietly boomed. A thunder that grew.

I knew I couldn’t go there.

She was sweet and good and innocent and had been hurt enough, and the last fuckin’ thing I wanted was to be responsible for injuring her in any way.

Even if she was only looking for a good time, which was the one thing I was good for, I doubted very much the prudence of her having it with me.

Six months from now, we’d all be on Tybee Island to record. Royce would be there because he was married to our lead singer, Emily, and we were in talks with his band, A Riot of Roses, about doing some kind of collaboration, so they likely would be there, too.

Bottom line? Maggie would certainly be there, and gettin’ naked was probably the type of debris we didn’t need strewn between us.

Besides…fun didn’t make you feel like this.

Because she sighed and rested her cheek back on my chest. Though she curled her arms so tight around me there was no space left to separate us, like she was trying to find her way inside.

I didn’t think I could really hear the questions, I just felt the words that she muttered against my heart that was battering at my chest. “What do you really want, Rhys? Under it all? After the fame? After the music? After the money?”

I want to take it back.

I want to erase the pain.

I want to make it right.

Impossible.

So I gave her the next best thing. “I just want to enjoy each day. Make it better for the people around me.”

She tightened her hold, and she shifted to look up at me, her body tucked against mine.

So tight and hot.

All wrong and undeniably right.

And God, I was such a dirty fuck because my dick was hard and my breaths had gone shallow, fingers itchin’ to explore.

Feeling myself being drawn, I leaned closer.

Our noses touched.

Her sweet, seductive mouth parted, and her pulse ran wild.

Those eyes flared with a desire and an innocence that made me sure she was not to be toyed with.

Fuck.

I wanted to kiss her.

Devour her.

Show her that she was beautiful.

That she was to be cherished.

But I knew better than to go playin’ these games.

Knew better than touchin’ a treasure. One that the only thing I would ever do was turn around and taint.

Forcing myself from the haze of lust, I peeled myself from her sweet body and pinned on a casual smirk that was nothing but feigned. “Gotta piss.”

Classy.

But it was best if she took me for a thickheaded fuckwit who didn’t have any manners. There were probably about a thousand women scattered around the world who would attest to the fact, anyway.

Maggie frowned.

Yeah.

Felt like frowning, too.

I squeezed her shoulder like I was talking to a kid. “Why don’t you head back to

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