He sucks in his lips and tries not to laugh.

“It’s not funny, Memphis.”

He is suddenly serious. “I wanna do all sorts of shit to you.”

“Well, you wrote two songs, or was it three? So, I think you are all straight now, you and your”—I point to his upper body—“torn up torso.”

“Wasn’t the ass I had, Tales. It was the ass I’ve wanted since that night.”

“You’re—”

“Honest? Would you like me not to be? I could lie; would that be better?” His voice raises, and I am suddenly fearful that Madison will hear us.

“Shh,” I tell him, and his eyes narrow.

“No, sweet cheeks. You and I are gonna work this out. I couldn’t give a fuck less who hears me.”

“She doesn’t know about that night. It wasn’t even a big deal, Memphis.”

“That’s not what you said while your ass was pressed up against me in my bed the other night.”

“I was drunk.”

“Then get drunk again. Press in harder this time.”

“You are something else.”

My heart is racing. His lips never looked so good, and I am sure the air conditioner is on way too low because my nipples are straining against my padded, push-up bra.

“I am something you want, and you are something I want.”

“Well, it’ll never happen.” I attempt to step around him, but my wobbly knees betray me, and I stumble.

He grabs me and pushes me against the wall. “Tell me what your doubts are.”

“Why?”

“So I can blow them out of the water.” His hands are on my waist, and his face is inches from mine as his chiseled chest rises and falls quickly underneath his shirt. “Boyfriend?” I shake my head. “So he humped you and dumped you? Fucking idiot. Does he know he’s an idiot?”

I don’t respond. I don’t want him to know he’s right. Then he’ll figure out that I am not worth even one night.

“Madison,” I say.

“She doesn’t find out until we both figure out if this is physical or more.”

Dear God, he said or more.

I close my eyes and try to slow my breathing, but it’s not happening. I feel his thumb on my chin as he pushes my head to the side. He inhales a slow, deep breath, running his nose from my collarbone up to the spot right behind my ear, and I moan. I flippin’ moan, and he does, too, at the same time.

“You’re promiscuous.”

“Ask me not to be.” He moves my head back and pushes my chin up with his thumb. His tongue lightly slides down my throat and stops at the base. Again, I moan, and again, he does, too.

“Your tour.”

“Your school.”

“I’m not ready for a relationship,” I pant out as his lips run across my jawline.

“Give me this week.”

“To be your groupie?” I shake my head.

“To be mine.” He sucks on my earlobe. “All mine.”

“Madison,” I remind him.

“After hours.”

“Fine,” I concede.

“You are not going to regret it.” He steps back and cups my jaw.

“I already do.”

“Why?”

“I’m not a whore.”

“I promise, Tales, whatever the swimsuit or underoos cover is off limits.”

I can’t help smiling as I open my eyes. He looks happy, and I feel giddy.

He pushes his forehead against mine and runs his nose back and forth across mine. “You tell me if it gets to be too much.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“I won’t hurt you. I’ve never made a girl cry yet.” He smirks that sinful grin. “Okay, maybe a few, but they survived.”

“Why?”

“Contrary to what you believe, I think it was you who gave me my inspiration back.”

“Your floozies did.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

“I won’t sleep with someone who sleeps with everyone under the spotlight.”

“I’m really not like that, Tales.” I can’t help huffing. “No, you started this. I’ve been like that little, blonde girl, the one with the bears, eating all that porridge, sleeping in all those beds until I found the one I was looking for.”

I look away from his mesmerizing eyes. “Goldilocks.”

“Low and behold, she was right under my nose. I can’t wait to kiss those lips and see if they’re the ones I have been trying to find. You know, like the glass shoe that the prince makes everyone try on ’cause the girl he—”

I spare him the rambling, albeit adorable. “Cinderella.”

“Yeah, Cinderella.”

His lips are centimeters from mine, and I am ready for him to kiss me. I want to know if it’s true. At the very least, I want him to kiss me just once without throwing up on my shoes.

He moves closer, and I close my eyes and lift my chin, giving myself to him. He kisses … my cheek.

Stunned, I open my eyes.

“Sober. Come to me sober so I know I’m not pushing you into something.”

“But you said—”

“Tales, I wanna kiss you so fucking badly right now.” He leans against me with his whole body. “My tongue isn’t the only thing that wants in.” He nudges me with his erection, and I gasp. “But sober, sweet cheeks. I won’t do you like that.”

Then he walks away, leaving me buzzed, turned on, and wanting more than ever to give everything I have to Memphis Black.

I don’t go back outside, although it’s not like I can when I am as hard as nails and feeling guilty as fuck. Tallia Annabel Priest, the sweetest girl on the entire planet, and my dick can’t keep my mind occupied enough to leave her alone.

I flop down in bed and stare at the ceiling, willing this hard-on away. I know what will do the trick—think about her father and the day he caught me staring at his little girl when I was in church.

“Do you know what happens to sinners, young man?” he asked me.

“Not really, sir,” I answered honestly.

“They burn in hell.” He scowled at me, and what did I do? I fucking chuckled. Hell, he was my minister. The one who preached God’s love was now pegging me at ten years old as a sinner. He didn’t think that shit was funny, but here’s the shit kicker: I wasn’t thinking of banging his daughter until he went on with, “If you have sexual desires for her, you best get down on your knees and pray, young man.”

Sexual fucking desires at ten? Hell, I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell that thing was there for and hating it because the shit hurt when it got all hard. I figured out really quickly after that man’s warning what a sexual desire was, and from that moment on, I spent a lot of time in the damn shower. I mean, why the fuck would he even say that shit?

I spent the next eight years tormenting her because I wasn’t hot for her. She was the opposite of hot—well, maybe not the opposite, but she was … angelic? Sweet, kind, innocent—all the things you want to protect from the little asshole tormentors who picked on her, and she just smiled in their faces.

Well, that day I flipped a switch, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be a sinner, much less want everyone to think I had sexual desires for Tallia Annabelle Priest, the awkward preacher’s kid, so then I became a pain in hers and Madison’s asses.

Forgive me, papa Priest. Now I have some hellacious sexual desires, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Hell, I can’t do shit about it now.

I look down, erection gone. Minister Priest is the opposite of Viagra, and I will use that shit to my advantage.

***

I wake up and open my eyes. Tally is standing at the foot of my bed, staring at me. She isn’t saying shit, only staring.

I look over at my phone, and it says three in the morning.

“Tales?” I sit up, and she mumbles some incoherent shit then sighs, yawns, and sits down.

“You still fucked up?”

She shakes her head.

“You wanna play around?” I ask, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to me as I sit up.

“Sleep.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” I have no clue what she is doing, but when she is dead weight, I know she’s asleep. “Tales?”