Rock Starred: Love My Way

by Karen Booth

"You didn't leave."

  "Katie, honey, I told you." He took my hand. "I messed up with the only other girl I ever loved. I'm not letting you go unless you tell me you don't love me too."

  My pulse steadily thumped in my ears. "The only other girl you loved?"

  He smiled. "I love you, Katie."

  His words lifted a weight. That stupid heart of mine? The one too heavy to carry around anymore? It felt different now. Patched up and perfect. "I love you too, Peter. I'm so sorry." For the first time ever, I could feel my past stepping away from me, dropping back, as if it was an unwelcome dream I might someday remember only in bits and pieces.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist. "You love me?"

  I took a deep breath. His warm and woodsy scent was intoxicating, the way I wanted my sheets to smell every morning. Every nerve ending in my body was now raw with anticipation. "I do. I love you."

  "That's all I needed to hear." He pulled me against him impatiently and my fingers combed into his thick hair. His mouth descended upon mine with a tenderness that only made me want to melt into him.

  We kissed as if we were discovering each other, but it was different than that first night in Miami, now that there was love between us. Our lips moved together in perfect sync as he pressed his palms into my lower back, as though he couldn't stand any distance between us at all. He slid his hand to the back of my thigh, raising my leg until it was hitched around his hip. I wrapped my other leg around his waist as he lifted me and motored us to the other side of the room still kissing. Standing before the bed, he carefully lowered me to the mattress. Max was asleep on the pillow.

  "Sorry, little man," he said, picking up Max and gently setting him on the floor. "I get her all to myself right now."

  He unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes feeding the need burning inside me, the look an ethereal combination of pure, sweet love and unfettered desire. My breath escaped slowly as he rolled his shoulders out of the sleeves while his hair swept across his forehead. I would never, ever, tire of watching him do that.

  I arched my back, settling my hips into the bed. Heat blazed in my belly and chest. All I could think about was his hands and lips and every other part of him all over me. I hooked my thumbs beneath the waistband of my silky pajama pants.

  "Stop," Peter said. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, but he never took his eyes from me. "That's my job." He dropped his pants and shed his boxer briefs, my lips quivering with the deep need to please him.

  Peter sat on the bed next to me and I rolled my head to the side to watch him. He liberated me from my pajama bottoms and cocked an eyebrow when he saw that I wasn't wearing any panties. He stretched out next to me, on his side. His fingers raked lightly up one of my thighs, starting at the knee. I sank into the moment, lost in his eyes, needing our connection. My breath caught up in my throat, leaking out in silent gasps with every inch he traveled closer to the apex between my legs. He stopped short, smiling when I squirmed. He reached across to the other leg, this time exercising inhuman patience as he repeated his glorious torture.

  "Touch me," I said. "Please."

  "You're so impatient." He sat up and shifted, kneeling between my legs. He slid his hands under my tank top, warm palms flat against my belly. He skimmed my skin, peeling back the garment, cleverly maneuvering around my breasts as he lifted it over my head.

  I held my breath as his hands bracketed my ribs and his mouth drifted closer to my chest. The anticipation of his tongue lapping my sensitive skin left my breasts full and warm, my nipples rigid and tight. He opened his mouth and huffed hot air against them. The gentle rush of his breath alone made me feel like I might explode.

  "Peter, honey, touch me. I love you. I want you."

  He grinned and his eyes flashed with satisfaction. He not only knew how to set an inferno inside me, he knew exactly how to stoke it. "Like this?" He pursed his lips around my nipple. His tongue flicked and rolled against the taut skin. The sensation came as a flood, hot and wet, coursing through my chest, snaking its way the length of my body.

  "Yes." My hands followed the contours of his back, along his spine, to the curve of his ass.

  He switched to my other breast, slipping his hand between our bellies. My head dropped back when he ventured between my fevered, tender folds. He moaned, exploring the slickness, expertly seeking the apex, and rocking gently with his fingers.

  "Oh God," I muttered. "Like that." I arched my back to be closer to him, reaching between his legs and wrapping my fingers around his cock. He'd been hard before, but it was like trying to squeeze granite. "Kiss me," I whimpered as I pumped his smooth skin. "Please."

  He tugged on my nipple with his lips before releasing the suction. His mouth and tongue rode along my jaw, to my chin and back to my ear, where he nipped and nuzzled. "I could spend my whole life with you like this and be happy."

  My chest heaved with a weakness for his words. "Kiss me. Please. I need you."

  He pecked the corner of my lips, sending a soft sizzle across my mouth. "Good. Because I need you too." His tongue rode delicately along my bottom lip before he ventured inside, our mouths became one, tangling in the heat.

  I rubbed his calves and ankles with my feet as we kissed, my hands washing over his back, every molecule of my body starving for him. "Peter, honey, now."

  He rolled to my side and reached into the drawer of the bedside table, handing me the foil packet. I opened it as he smiled and stretched out next to me, softly brushing the side of my breast with his fingers. I dipped my head and rolled on the condom, immediately hooking my leg around his hip and muscling him closer. Peter eased me to my back and I welcomed him, kissing him eagerly as he began to stroke inside me.

  We rocked in perfect unison, eyes connecting, everything else in the world falling away. I marveled at him, stunning on the inside and out, thinking that if the planets aligned and if I let life happen, we could be blissfully happy together for a very long time. The future, the one I'd feared, was everything I now welcomed. I had him.

  He leaned down to kiss away the tear that had rolled down my cheek. "I don't want you to cry. I love you. I want you to be happy."

  "I am happy," I said. "More than you'll ever know."

  Peter and I dozed off after we made love, both of us stirring when the sun began to stream through the windows.

  "Morning, beautiful," he said after he'd plucked his glasses from the nightstand.

  I rolled closer and nuzzled his chest with my nose. "I love the way you smell in the morning."

  He chuckled. "I assumed I smell bad." He scooted closer to me as a comically confused look crossed his face. "Did you forget to shave?"

  A lump between us began to move beneath the comforter. "I think somebody's jealous."

  Peter ducked under the covers and returned with Max. He stroked his head and rubbed his ears. "I know it's hard, buddy, but we're going to have to learn to share her."

  Max wriggled free and stretched before settling in again at the foot of the bed.

  I brushed Peter's floppy hair from his forehead. "What time do you have to leave for Boston?"

  He cleared his throat and took my hand, playing with each of my fingers. "I need to call the car service and see what they say. Eleven. Noon at the latest is my guess."

  I fought the drag at the corners of my mouth, not wanting to think about him leaving. "What day do you want me to fly out to meet you?"

  "Excellent question. See, I had all of this extra time last night where I was standing out on the sidewalk with nothing to do, so I finalized everything with the bus company."

  "Even when you didn't know if I was going to let you into the apartment?"

  "Even when you left me alone on a dirty New York street."

  I hid my head in my hands, cringing at my behavior. "I'm so sorry."

  "Don't be sorry. It'll be a fun story to tell our grandkids one day." He winked when I spread my fingers to look at him and he peeled my hands from my face. "They can get us the bus I want in
Toronto. That show isn't until Wednesday, but you could fly up Tuesday. We have a day off. We can play tourist and stay in a swanky hotel and order room service."

  I hummed at the mention of the two of us stealing away, spending hours in a cushy bed, alone. "Sounds incredible."

  "Will that give you enough time to get packed?"

  "I think so." I popped up on to my elbow. "I guess I probably don't need anything more than jeans and t-shirts, huh?"

  "Whatever is most comfortable. Don't pack a lot of bras."

  "Ha, funny."

  "Although you should probably wear one when you meet my parents."

  "Your parents?"

  "Yeah, at the Chicago shows. It's Boston, Toronto, Detroit, then Chicago," he counted out the cities on his fingers. "Five nights. All sold out. I can introduce you to my old buddies. They'll all be jealous."

  What a sunny proposition—making a connection with his past, having him fold me into his life. "I can't wait. I hope your parents like me."

  "Are you kidding? They're going to love you."

  "I’ll have to come back to New York after Chicago. What happens after that?"

  "Minneapolis, St. Louis, Denver, then out to the West Coast. We finish the middle of September."

  "Then back to Chicago?" I wished I could disguise the anxiousness in my voice, but this was my sole remaining doubt.

  He tilted his head and put his finger under my chin, looking at me with sweet but prying eyes. "Are you worried about the Chicago versus New York thing?"

  "I'd be lying if I said I don't think about it."

  "Come here." He pulled me into his warm embrace and traced his fingers across my back. "You know what? We're lucky to have jobs where we travel all the time. Money isn't an issue for either of us. I figure we just work around our schedules. We can spend time in Chicago, but I'm cool with spending lots of time in New York too."

  My heart skipped. "Really?"

  "Max and I already discussed it. He's fine with me staying here as long as I don't hog the bed."

  I smirked and snuggled closer to him.

  "The band is going to take some time off next year. As long as we talk about it and are both willing to make some compromises, I think we can make it work until then. Scratch that. We have to make it work. Phone sex only gets me so far."

  "I don't know. You're pretty good at it."

  "Uh, correction, I'm good at it with you." Peter pressed his hand against my lower back, urging my hips closer as he nibbled at my ear. "I'd still rather have the real thing."

  "Mmm. I like where you're going with this." I hooked my leg around his and stroked the back of his calf with my foot. "Do we have time for the real thing before you have to go?"

  "Katie, honey." He dug his fingers into my hair as his tender lips skimmed the base of my throat. "We'll make time."

  * * * * *

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  If you’re looking for more rock star romance, check out

  these other books by Karen Booth:

  Bring Me Back

  Claire Abby was seventeen when she fell madly in love with British rock star Christopher Penman. More than twenty years later, it’s about to happen for real.

  “Hang on for an exciting, sexy, humorous and convincing dream-come-true read…It’s one for my keeper shelf.”—Manic Readers

  Available from your favorite eBook retailers.

  Hiding in the Spotlight

  David Callahan wanted a career in rock music and a life with Alex, the girl he’s loved since high school. He got the chart topping success. His best friend got it all.

  “Readers who crave musicians with some life and living under their instruments will surely fall under the spell of Ms. Booth’s handsome, down-to-earth rockers.”—Ms. Ivy’s Book Nook

  Available from your favorite eBook retailers.

  About the Author

  Karen Booth is a Midwestern girl transplanted in the South, raised on 80s music, Judy Blume, and the films of John Hughes. An early preoccupation with rock ‘n’ roll led her to spend her twenties working her way from intern to executive in the music industry. Now she’s a married mom of two, and instead of staying up late in rock clubs, she gets up before dawn and writes sexy contemporary fiction. Rock star romances and big city love stories are her specialties.

  When she isn’t creating hunky fictional men, Karen is busy honing her Southern cooking skills (she makes some mean collard greens), listening to everything from Duran Duran to Otis Redding with her kids, or sweet-talking her astoundingly supportive husband into whipping up a batch of cocktails. You can find out more about Karen and her books at karenbooth.net.

  Also by Karen Booth:

  Bring Me Back

  Back Forever, the sequel to Bring Me Back

  Hiding in the Spotlight

  For Keeps

  London Calling with Karen Stivali

  Love Plus One

  Forever Now

  That Night with the CEO, coming August 2015