She let out a frustrated little sigh that turned into a moan as my hand found her waist and pulled her closer. Her tank top slid up slightly, leaving a warm swath of skin bare at the small of her back. I brushed my fingers lightly along her spine, the way I knew she liked, the way I knew she craved, and she sagged into me more fully, parting her lips and circling my tongue with hers.

A full year's worth of longing for her bubbled up inside of me and suddenly I was a man possessed. With a growl, I swung her around, pressing her back against the wall. Snaking my hands into her hair, I grabbed the length and yanked her head to the side, exposing the curve of her neck. She let out a stifled moan as I kissed that sweet, rapid pulse, and then let my lips travel lower. I pressed against her hard letting her feel what she did to me, had been doing to me, had always done to me since the day I met her so long ago.

"We shouldn't…" I didn't let her get the rest of her words out. To hell with what we should and shouldn't do—I needed to do this. I needed to cup her breast in my hand, swiping my thumb over her nipple so that it puckered into a tight bead before I tugged her shirt to the side to take it into my lips. Her protests died away into a sharp moan.

"Make noise for me, Lily," I begged her. I needed to hear those soft sighs again, the ones that made me feel like the center of the world. "Let me know exactly what this feels like." I plunged my hand below the waistband of her jeans. "Ah, shit, I wish you knew what this felt like. You're so hot and wet for me, aren't you? Did you miss me as much as I missed you, Lil?"

"Shut up," she whispered, pleading. "Someone will hear you." She moaned as I slipped a finger inside of her.

I looked toward the staircase. There were voices downstairs, low and indistinct. "You don't want to get caught?" I was too lost to stop now. "Then you'll have to be quick, Bit. Come for me," I swirled my thumb over her clit, raking circles to draw gasps from those rosebud lips. "I want to feel you cum around my finger, right here."

She wrapped her arms tightly around my shoulders, pressing against me as hard as she could, her whole body undulating as I slipped another, and then another finger inside of her. "Shit!" she hissed, biting her lip and burying her face into my chest. I felt her tummy tighten, the muscles of her core fluttering like a butterfly. "Oh, God!"

I growled and buried my face in her neck. Her body heaved and those noises I craved hearing tore from her throat, savage little wildcat noises that nearly had me cumming along with her. "Perfect, yes, oh my God, you're perfect." I was babbling like an idiot, but I didn't give a fuck any more. I covered her mouth with mine, relishing the taste of her one last time before I pulled my hand away.

"Jaxson?" My mother's whiskey-soaked voice floated up the stairwell.

I ignored it. "Come to my show tonight," I told Lily. "I want you there in the audience."

Her eyes were shining as she stared at me for a moment. Then, finally, she nodded. I went downstairs to see what the fuck my mom wanted, feeling on top of the fucking world.

Chapter Nineteen

Liliana

There were too many people in this house. Every time a voice called from downstairs, I wanted to shrink into an even tighter ball. The shouts and sounds of scraping made me wonder what the heck they were building, but I was too terrified to go and check. I was afraid what had just happened would be written all over my face.

Jaxson's eyes, nearly black with desire. His fingers, his lips…

Any semblance of pride or self-control I could claim was blown away in a frenzy of lust.

The way my body moved, how it knew exactly what he'd do next, anticipated it like an addict jonesing for the next high.

That lily on his chest had broken me.

His voice in my ear, so confident, so cocky, telling me exactly what to do.

But I didn't need to stay broken. I rolled over in bed and pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, squeezing them shut as the memory bore down on me like a freight train.

It was his first major television interview. I recorded it on the DVR, intending to watch and then rewatch it again and again. My Jaxson was poised to become a star in his own right.

The interviewer was a tall, crisp blonde with a curve to her lips that made everything she said seem like innuendo. I hated her instantly.

Jaxson sat on his chair like a prince on his throne. I paused the playback for moment to appreciate the simplicity of the white T-shirt and leather jacket combination I had chosen for him. They had pancaked his face in too much makeup, but somehow it didn’t detract from his rugged masculinity.

I hit the play button and leaned back, snuggling down into the couch. He would be home soon and I wanted to watch it all before he got here.

The interviewer's collagen-plumped lips twisted again. "What was it like? Growing up the son of Annie Blue?"

My heart skipped a beat in sympathy. Of all the questions she could open with, she chose that one? The one Jax hated the most?

But he smiled gamely and my heart swelled with pride. "You know, to me, she's just Mom, you know?" He showed the interviewer his dimple and I inwardly cheered at how well he handled the question.

"There's been a lot of buzz around you, even before you headed into the studio. People seem fascinated by Jaxson Blue. Why do you think that it?"

He smirked that cocky grin of his. "Because they think they want my life."

"Is your life that wonderful?"

"It has its moments."

"What are the moments that make it wonderful?"

I leaned forward, already blushing.

He leaned back in his chair. "You know, kicking back with friends, making music. The simple things, really."

Okay. That was vague, but well put.

"You mention friends. Is there anyone you're particularly close with?"

Jaxson ducked his head. "The guys in my band, for sure."

That was a lie. He barely knew them.

"Anyone else?"

The interviewer was fishing. That stupid twist to her lips, I bet she thought she looked sassy or something. I wished I could reach through the TV and slap her, but this interview had been taped this morning and the damage was already done. I paused the TV again and smiled to myself. Here it was. It was about to be common knowledge.

"Close like how?" Jaxson looked penetratingly at the interviewer and she crossed and re-crossed her legs.

"A special someone in your life?" She batted her eyelashes.

When I saw Jax lick his lips, I paused the TV again. That was his tell, it always had been. He was about to lie. What was the lie? I hit play.

The Jax on the screen flicked an invisible piece of dust off his jacket. "Nah," he shook his head. "No one important."

I stabbed the off button in horror.

Was I really that pathetic, that I could forget the public heartbreak, just like that? Was one look at him all it took to strip me of my dignity and leave me a breathless ball of need?

It had been a year since anyone had touched me with the same sort of skill. Jaxson knew my body better that I knew myself, the right mix of rough and tender, the way I just shattered when he was inside of me. The aftershocks of the orgasm he had given me still trailed up my spine, leaving me boneless and breathless, a combination of complete satisfaction and the insatiable desire for more. I wanted him again, there was no denying it. I was never going to stop wanting him, pride and dignity be damned. I wanted what he gave me, that tight ball of heat that collected in my chest before exploding outward in fireworks across my skin. I craved him like chocolate. No, something more dangerous. Heroin?