Rockin' the Heart (Hot Wired) by Gracen Miller

like he’d groped her. Okay, maybe he had. Just a little. Nothing to get worked up over. Except this was Sam, and even though she was no virgin, she wasn’t the type of woman a man played with. At twenty she’d had a total of two lovers.
    T he kiss they shared had been the best moment of his life. Not even the excitement of getting the record deal for Hot Wired compared. That indicated Sam meant more to him than any fling. If she asked, he’d walk away from the band tomorrow without regrets.
    Nerves fluttered through his belly , and he put his fingers through his messy, overlong hair. Sam wasn’t on the same tarmac with him when it came to them. She required wooing, convincing they would be good together. But when he got his mouth on her and tasted her, coupled with the smell of her, he lost all sense of pacing himself. He hadn’t even realized he’d cupped her bottom and pulled her against his lower brain until she halted the kiss.
    Goddamn her ass is a perfect fit in my hand .
    He hadn ’t been smooth talking her when he said she was his crack. Who the fuck needed drugs when Sam’s taste hit his palate and yielded a natural high. He was a junkie for her smiles and laughter. All the goddamn time he overdosed on her company, finding one excuse after another to hang with her. The days of keeping his addiction bottled up inside from discerning eyes was over.
    No more. No fucking more!
    I’m making my stand for her. The band could all go to hell.
    The way she ’d melted against him when he kissed her was burned into his pores and memory. The little noises coming from her as he worked his mouth over hers… no man could maintain his sanity in the face of that. Not even one with mostly honorable intentions like him.
    His kneejerk reaction to Tab ’s farce had been to shoot it down. But the more he’d listened to their agent’s reasons for the charade and Sam’s argument against it, he’d seen an opportunity he could use for his benefit. Tab had her endgame, and he had his. If he played this mockery just right, Heath might be able to persuade Sam to give them a shot. A real shot, not one put on for the band, the fans, or Tab, but because she liked him as more than a brother. Going too fast wouldn’t aid his end results.
    Like a fool he ’d believed her when she claimed he kissed like Jase. Looking back he realized she’d been as enthralled as him, and he’d permitted her to wound his pride when she attempted to save face. The woman knew him, but she had yet to discover how persuasive he could be. Or how hard he could push when he wanted something as bad as he wanted her.
    He wasn ’t even certain when he’d decided to make a full-on play for her. Sometime between the almost-kiss in the sex-store and Tab’s intervention. Sam was his. Plain and simple. She possessed no goals for her future and straddled a turning point in her life. With any luck they’d become one another’s forever.
    He pulled his sports car straight up to the curb and tossed his key to a pimply-faced valet. Excitement scuttled along the line of hopefuls to enter the establishment. No surprise he’d been made.
    “ Mr. Fangor.” The Asian male bouncer came off his perch like a soldier at arms. “It’s an honor to have you join us.” The man led him past the line of those waiting to enter the establishment. Heath winked at the girls at the front, and they tittered like adolescents. He’d bet the proceeds from a single night’s gig those two possessed fake credentials.
    “ I’ll notify the owner immediately of your presence and acquire you a private booth. If you need anything else, just ask for me. Name’s Ace.”
    “ Thanks.” Somehow he’d coax Sam into privacy and hopefully steal a kiss or two. He wouldn’t push for more. He slipped the man a hundred dollar bill. “Point me in the direction of Sam Collins.”
    The bouncer pocketed the bill with a grin. “From what I hear”—he tapped his ear piece—“she won’t be hard