rekindles old flame while belting out an incredible duet with Raina Skye.”
“Yes, and before we know it, we’ll be dating, then engaged, then go through a bad breakup leaving us both devastated,” I said flatly.
He pointed his finger at me, same smirk in place. “See, you do still read tabloids.”
“Once I started finding my name on them, they got old. It’s not fun to see stories about yourself that are completely made up. I mean, apparently I’ve been committed twice.”
Jet waved a hand at me, “That’s a normal one. Wait until you’re overdosing and making a fool of yourself at a bar.”
I raised a brow at him.
“Okay, so that one might have been true, but it was a really long time ago.”
I couldn’t stop myself from giggling, and his smile broadened. “So she does still smile.”
“It’s easier to do when people aren’t trying to piss me off.”
“Yeah, but what fun would that be?”
My shoulder sagged. “Jet, I’m serious.”
He bit his bottom lip, tugging half of his piercing into his mouth.
“We have to do this, no matter how much you can’t stand me.”
His brows furrowed. “I thought the feeling was mutual?”
I held my breath before responding. Was it really mutual? Or was I just trying to be mad at him all of the time, so I wouldn’t be as obsessed with him?
He studied my face, his jaw flexing while he waited for me to answer him, but my lips wouldn't move. I was too aware of how close he’d come, so close I could see the stubble along his jaw. The irises of his eyes were the same piercing blue, and I was stumbling back into the same haze as when we were singing. His chest rose more rapidly, and his nostrils flared when they let out air. I wanted to touch his face, move the dark black hair from his forehead, but I resisted, knowing that if I touched him, I might not be able to stop. I feared all of the fantasies I’d pent up inside would become a reality, and that would make both of our lives more complicated.
But all of my worries came to a halt when he tilted his head and took my chin in his hand. The tips of his fingers were rough at first, no doubt from playing the thick cords of his guitar. It was a masculine grasp, yet gentle, as if he knew how to handle a woman. My body begged to melt into his, but my brain was confused as ever.
Staring into my eyes, he studied my expression, a silent way of asking for permission to continue with his intentions. It was an odd gesture. He was always so sure of himself, and right now, he seemed vulnerable, as if this was a side he didn’t let others see. It was the same look he gave me on the stage while singing our duet.
Still unable to speak, my lids closed slightly the closer his lips came to mine, not throwing a fit at our proximity.
Our noses brushed one another, his lips cautiously pressing against mine. It was so subtle and delicate, a kiss that didn’t match his cross and snarky personality. Once I kissed him back, his other arm snaked around my waist, his lips becoming firmer and aggressive. His hand slipped passed my jaw and to the back of my neck, clutching my hair while he tasted me. I groaned when his hands twisted deeper into my hair, the gentle, yet assertive tug catching me off-guard. It was exhilarating and caused my core to ache with a need that had never been fulfilled.
I was a Jet Ryder Virgin, and fighting his attempt to conquer me was becoming a losing battle. We were alone in this room, a perfect bed with time to kill before the show.
But what would it be like after? When we’d put our clothes back on and go on stage? Would he still smile the same way? Would he still drive me absolutely insane with his constant need to bicker and get under my skin?
“Jet,” I whispered against his lips.
His only response was by letting his mouth trail down my jaw.
I gasped when he sucked on my pulse point. “Jet, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“I can’t think of a reason for it to be a bad idea,” he murmured, his lips caressing back to my jaw.
His hands found the curve of my back, one hand slipping into my jeans pocket while the other