Never Tear Us Apart (Never Tear Us Apart #1)

That’s all the permission I need. I kiss her, drown in her, search her mouth with my tongue, search her body with my hands, and she arches against me. Doesn’t stop me when I should be stopped. Doesn’t tell me no when I should hear that word again and again.

What I’m doing is wrong. But it feels so damn right I know I’ll never be the same again. I’ll always want this, need it, crave it. Crave her.

Minutes pass. Long, drugging minutes filled with kisses and touches and gasps and sighs. People pass by but we don’t pay them any mind. She stiffens once, twice, aware that we’re in public and putting on a show, but we’re deep in the shadows at the back of the hall. Not out in the crowd in front of the stage.

The band is finished, I hear Jay scream out an enthusiastic good night, and the air shifts. Changes. Fills with the sharp scent of sweat and booze, perfume and cologne as the crowd disperses, many of them making their way toward the bathrooms, which we’re not too far away from.

Katie ends our kiss, her breathing erratic, her chest rising and falling against mine, her breasts tempting me. But I restrain myself, play it cool, hope like hell this isn’t it for the night.

“That was . . .” Her voice drifts and she nibbles on her swollen lower lip, her gaze almost reluctantly meeting mine. Her cheeks are flushed, her expression shy, and I want nothing more than to gobble her up.

“Awesome? Amazing? Unbelievably good?” I offer up as suggestions, pressing my mouth to hers in another lingering kiss.

I can feel the smile that curves her sweet lips. “Insane,” she whispers. “There are so many people here.”

“They didn’t notice us.” Her legs are still loosely wrapped around my hips, our bodies pressed close. I pull away from her mouth and touch her cheek, drift the back of my fingers along satiny-smooth skin. “I should take you home.”

Her eyes change color, if that’s possible, turning a deeper, darker blue. “Yes,” she agrees. “You should.”

I glance toward the end of the hall, which leads backstage. “I should go tell Jay they put on a hell of a show. Want to go backstage with me?”

She slowly shakes her head. “It’s okay. I, um, need to use the restroom before we go.”

Unease slips down my spine. I don’t want to leave her alone. Not even for a minute. Talk about overprotective. “Are you sure? I can wait for you.”

“The line is mega long for the ladies’ room.” She waves a hand at the line, which runs down the hall and out into the main room of the club. “By the time you’re done talking to your friend, I’ll barely be inside the restroom.”

I cup her cheek and tilt her head back so our gazes meet. “Are you sure?”

She nods, smiling. “I’m a big girl, Ethan. I can use the restroom by myself.”

The details of exactly how my father abducted her fill my mind. The similarity of this situation doesn’t go unnoticed, but . . . she’s right. She’s a twenty-one-year-old woman who’s fully capable of taking care of herself. Not a na?ve kid who believes every lie a creep tells her.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I kiss her, our mouths lingering. “If you’re ready before me, wait right here. This will be our meeting spot.”

She nods, her gaze stuck on my lips. The need to kiss her again is overwhelming. “Okay,” she murmurs.

I don’t move until I see her get in line for the restroom and then I slip down the hall, toward the backstage area. The bodyguard stops me and I tell him who I am, knowing that I’m on their list. He lets me back and I go in search of Jay and the rest of the guys, ready to give them a brief compliment and thank-you before I hightail my ass out of there and go back to Katie.

The change in her tonight has been amazing. Mind blowing. She’s so open and warm and sexy, willing to do just about anything I want. To the point of shocking me, if I’m being honest with myself. She should be angry with me, what with the way I ignored her. Trying to do what’s best for her never seems to work, though, not when it comes to me.

I can’t resist her. The need to be close to her, to see her smile, to hear her voice, to bask in her presence, is just too overwhelming to deny. I know it’s wrong, but I’m tired of denying myself. I’m tempted to go after what I want.

And what I want is . . .

Katie.

In my arms. Beneath me. Naked. In my bed.

Forever.





The line to the ladies’ room moved surprisingly fast and I finished before Ethan returned. I even made friends with some other women while in line, all of us chatting about the band, the girls comparing notes over how sexy they thought the lead singer was.

When I told them my date actually knew the lead singer, I thought they would explode with envy. They kept going on about it, even calling me an idiot when I said I’d turned down an opportunity to go backstage.

But I don’t care about the lead singer. The only man I find remotely sexy is Ethan.