Perfect.

His hands roving greedily over her body aroused her just as much as his lips did. God, she loved stroking her tongue across his. Loved, too, the rough, raw, seriously yummy sound of his groan as she kissed him back just as greedily.

“There were too many hours without you today, Ash.” His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her flush against him as if he didn’t want any space there at all. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She wanted to kiss him again, but first she needed to know, “How was your recording session?”

“Really good. But it would have been better if you were there. Everything is better when you’re there.”

The next thing she knew, he was lifting her up, then placing her on the table in front of the mirror. He was so much bigger than she was, and so strong, that he was able to pick her up as if she weighed nothing at all. He slid off her jean jacket so that he could run hot kisses over every inch of the bare skin of her shoulders and arms that he’d just revealed.

She only had two dresses—the simple white one she’d been wearing when she fell into the pool and the fancier pink one Valentina had given her. When he began to run his hands slowly up from her bare calves, she was really glad she’d decided to wear the white dress tonight. There truly was nothing as good as Drew’s hands on her skin. Only his mouth could trump it.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against her lips as he slid his hands up to her thighs. “I need to taste more of you. Now.”

There was nothing she wanted more than for Drew to do just that. But the good girl still hovering inside of her couldn’t help but remind him, “You’re on in five minutes.”

“I know,” he said as he knelt on the ground in front of her and slipped his fingers beneath the sides of her panties, “but I won’t be able to make it through my show tonight if I don’t get to at least taste you now.”

She helped him lift her hips so that he could draw the fabric down her legs and off over her feet. Yes, the clock was ticking, but so was her body—a sensual bomb that was on the verge of detonation. Just as soon as Drew—

Oh God.

His mouth.

His tongue.

His hands.

Her head fell back against the mirror behind her as she tried to remember that there were people outside the dressing room who would hear her if she moaned too loudly. But as Drew’s tongue and fingers played over her sex like the maestro that he was, it was nearly impossible to keep her pleasure to herself.

“Gorgeous.” He whispered the word against her overheated skin. “Mine.”

That final word—along with the perfect flick of his tongue—was all it took for her to start breaking apart. She threaded her hands into his hair and, through her lashes, stared in wonder at the beautiful man kneeling between her legs.

“Yours,” she gasped as he drew her orgasm out with both his mouth and fingers.

After the last blissful aftershock had finally rumbled through her, Drew looked up at her with eyes so dark with heat and full of intense desire that she lost her breath all over again. She searched her pleasure-drenched brain for something to say that would let him know just how good he made her feel.

But just then, a loud knock sounded on the door. “It’s James. They’re ready for you out there, Drew.”

Drew didn’t rush to head to the stage. Instead, he threaded his hands into her hair and kissed her again. His kiss was still hungry, but alongside desire was so much emotion it overwhelmed her. Or maybe it was tasting herself on his lips, his tongue, that pushed her into overload territory.

All she knew was that, for a moment, she felt as though she were drowning. She simply didn’t have enough experience with things like this to know what to think or how to feel about everything that was happening. Especially not when it was all happening so darn fast.

Drew helped her down from the table and gently smoothed her skirt over her bare skin. When she walked out of the dressing room, would people be able to guess what had happened just from looking at her? Or would she still look like the good girl she’d been up until approximately twenty-four hours ago?

“Do you have any idea how happy you make me, Ash?”

Louder knocks sounded. “Drew,” James called, “you’ve got sixty seconds to get your ass out there before the audience starts to lose it.”

He gave her one last kiss, and the last thing she saw was his huge grin before he headed out the door to go and be a rock star.

Without his arms around her, her legs felt wobbly. The truth was, her insides did, too. Not because Drew had made her feel anything other than special and precious...but exactly for that reason. He seemed to care about her so much on all fronts—not only when they were making love, but when they were talking about business or family, too. And she’d never felt this good, or this happy, before.

But she remembered hearing her mother saying to her father once how happy she was. That happiness had quickly spun toward hatred because her parents were so different.

Standing in the dressing room, Ashley knew she should be heeding those memories. She shouldn’t be forgetting the hard-learned lessons of her childhood and giving herself so wholly, so completely to someone so very different from herself. But letting down her guard for a couple of days—or weeks—wouldn’t destroy her, would it? Their connection was intense and wonderful, and of course she hoped they’d remain friends even after the tour was over. And at least she wasn’t foolish enough to think that what was between them now would last forever.