Crash Into Me

high five or just touch him, that need tipped over into insanity.

Because Jamison was there, pressed up against the stage. She was watching him with those crazy purple eyes of hers, her skin flushed a lickable pink and her full lips slicked with raspberry gloss the same color as the gorgeous little nipples he’d gotten a glimpse of in that San Diego hotel room. Guys were all around her, touching her, bumping into her as they tried to get to him, looking at her because he was. And because she was so damn, heartbreakingly beautiful.

He wanted to pull her up on stage with him, to bite her, mark her, take her right there in front of Jared and everyone so that the whole world knew that she was his. That she belonged to him and he wasn’t going to let anyone take her away.

The possessive nature of his thoughts confused him, as did the jealousy whipping through his blood. He never got like this over a woman, never felt this driving need to warn off every other male in a hundred mile radius. Yet crouching there, looking at Jamison, the need to do just that was a pounding in his head, a throbbing in his blood.

Leaning forward, over a whole group of screaming, jostling fans, he kept his eyes locked with hers as he touched his fingers to her cheek. She shuddered, and so did he as the tension between them coiled ever more tightly. Her hand came up, rested over his and for a second, two, they were the only people in the place.

But then Wyatt lay down the beat for “Find Me,” while Vince carried Ryder’s favorite guitar across the stage. At the same time, the girl next to Jamison jostled her out of position and grabbed for him.

The moment shattered. Jamison jerked her eyes from his, then stepped back out of range. And he was left onstage, with a hard-on to suffer through and a concert to finish.

But the second their set was done, he all but threw his guitar at Vince and took off for one of the amphitheater’s back doors. If he knew Jamison, she was already on her way back to the bus and he was determined to catch her.

To hell with his fans.

To hell with Jared.

To hell with everyone and everything that wasn’t her.

Tonight he was taking Jamison. Consequences be damned.

Chapter Fourteen

He found her in the back parking lot among the equipment trucks. She was halfway to the bus and moving fast, but he didn’t have the patience to wait for her to cover the last couple thousand of feet. Instead he caught her from behind, one hand thrusting into her hair and pulling her head back as the other wrapped around her waist.

“Don’t be afraid,” he growled as he yanked her against him. After all, he wanted to make her come, not scare her to death. “It’s me.”

The startled scream died in her throat and she turned her head so that her face was inches from his. “Ryder? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” he countered, turning her so that her breasts pressed against his chest. He’d tossed his shirt away during the encore, so that the only thing between them was the thin fabric of her bra and tank top. “Why were you running back to the bus?”

“I wanted—” She broke off as his lips skimmed over her cheek. “I thought—”

“What?” he whispered, dropping kisses along her jawline.

“Hungry. I thought you’d be hun—”

“I am. Starving.” Just not for food. He didn’t know where this need had come from, if it had always been there just under the surface or if it had simply roared to life that night in San Diego. Either way, he was done fighting it. He wanted her and he would have her.

Now.

He moved forward, moved her backward, until she was pressed up against the side of one of the trailers. For long seconds he didn’t do anything else, just stood there savoring the feel of all those lush curves of hers resting so gloriously against him. He wanted to touch her, to wrap himself up in her softness until his senses were glutted with her. Overloaded. But he was trembling like a kid, his need making it impossible to think, to breathe. To plan. He wanted all of her at the same time, needed to kiss and touch and fuck her until he was nearly insane with it.

Control, he told himself as he pressed kisses over her throat. It’s all about control.

But then she gasped, arched, and his very last remnants of control shattered like glass.

His hands went to the collar of her shirt and he yanked it apart, took a primitive kind of satisfaction in the way the buttons flew in all directions—baring her to his desperate gaze. She was beautiful, her full breasts pressed up against violet silk the same color as her eyes. It was dark, but they weren’t that far from one of the huge parking lot light poles and he could see her nipples through the lace.

He reached out, ran a finger over one hard peak. Reveled in her gasp and the need that vibrated so violently between them.

“Ryder,” she gasped, her hands clutching at his shoulders, tangling in his hair. “Are you sure?” She arched into his touch even as she asked the words that should slow him down.

But he was done with going slow, done with denying himself when everything he wanted was right here in front of him. The future could take care of itself. Right now she was hot and trembling, as desperate for him as he was for her, and he wasn’t walking away. Not this time.

He didn’t answer her, at least not with words. Instead he grabbed her wrists, raised them above her head. Then he leaned down and captured her mouth with his own, using lips and tongue and teeth to claim her in a way she wouldn’t soon forget. A way he couldn’t forget.

But, God, she tasted good. Spicy and sweet and delicious, like warm honey and cinnamon drizzled over summer ripe peaches and cream. He sucked at her lower lip, reveled in the gasp she couldn’t stop and the way her wrists jerked against his hold. His cock screamed for relief at the movement, but he shoved the need down as far as he could manage. He’d waited too long for this to rush it.

Besides, he wanted so much more than to just get himself off. This, tonight, was about Jamison. He wanted to arouse her to fever pitch, to drench her in so much pleasure she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but feel.

And, he admitted as he pulled her lower lip into his mouth and laved it with his tongue in an effort to stop the ache, he wanted to control her. To drive her beyond reason, beyond boundaries, beyond sanity until she wanted him like he wanted her. Until she needed him like she needed her next breath…the way he was finding that he needed her.

He nibbled at her lip again, and she went wild, her lush, strong body bucking against him. Once again, her wrists jerked against his grip, but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. Couldn’t let her go. One touch from her slender, capable fingers and he would go up in flames.

So he kept her pinned against the trailer, using his hand and chest and hips. Made sure that every part of her body was covered by a part of his. And then he devoured her.

“Ryder,” she gasped, her head rolling back and forth against the metal wall of the trailer. “Hurry up. Please. I’m going crazy—” Her breath broke on a half-sigh, half-sob.

“I like you crazy,” he answered, then took advantage of her parted lips to thrust his tongue inside. She was like silk. Like velvet. Softer than he imagined. Hotter than he’d ever dreamed.

She moaned, and he tried to gentle himself, to give her the tenderness she deserved. But then she sucked his tongue deeper into her mouth, and he was lost. Need exploded deep inside him, sharp and terrible and all- consuming. It raked its talons down his spine, thrust its heat deep inside of him until all he could think of was taking her, fucking her. Branding her.

For a second, just a second, he tried to pull back. To think. Jamison wasn’t a groupie, wasn’t some throwaway girl whose face he wouldn’t remember in the morning. No matter how desperate he was for her, she