“So what happened to change that? How’d you wind up here, at Haven?”

“My dad. He’s friends with Tyler through a music program they both support. One for classical pianists. That’s what I was supposed to be. A classical pianist. At least, that’s what my parents thought I should be.”

“I understand you were something of a prodigy.”

He nodded, grimacing. “My parents are both academics. Mom teaches high school, and Dad teaches college. He’s pretty damn far up the tenure track at Wilkes-Barre University. My mom teaches AP math, physics, and chemistry. And they had this musically inclined son, who they figured was going to go to a renowned music school and make them proud. And they wound up with a kid who wanted to play loud, filthy music with a group of guys who barely finished high school.”

Yep, this had all the makings of a Shakespearean tragedy. Or a John Hughes movie.

“We can’t help what we love.”

He shook his head, breaking their stare to look down at her hand on his. “Sure we can. At least, we can choose not to pursue it. To throw away all the scholarships and the competitions and the hours of practice and the thousands of dollars on private tutors and music lessons.”

“But your parents support you now.”

“They came around, yeah. But that doesn’t mean they don’t still wish I was holed up in some conservatory auditorium having champagne after a concert instead of drinking beer and Jack Daniels in the green room of a stadium they’ve never heard of, where fifteen thousand people screamed for an hour and a half holding their middle finger in the air and left the pit bleeding.”

The image made her smile for some reason because she could see Sebastian onstage, playing, riling the crowd into even more of a frenzy.

His expression changed in a heartbeat, from self-mocking to that intense concentration she’d come to recognize.

She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to focus that concentration on kissing her. And possibly on throwing her up against the nearest wall and—

“What just went through your head?”

His low tone made her swallow and try to draw in a deep breath because, once again, she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen.

And those blue-green eyes saw exactly what she didn’t want him to see.

“I’m gonna give you an out tonight, Tru.” He sounded so reasonable right now. Steady and calm. “One I didn’t give you last night. I’m not sorry about that because I wanted to kiss you. Hell, I wanted to do a hell of a lot more but I’d never force you into anything.”

And he hadn’t forced her last night. Not at all.

“But you’re gonna have to say it, Tru. Last night,” he paused and shook his head, as if searching for the right words, “was fucking amazing. But I should’ve asked.”

She shook her head. “If you’d asked, I would’ve told you no. And that would’ve been a lie.”

His fist relaxed and his hand twisted in hers, lacing their fingers together. His other hand lifted to cup her cheek, fingers brushing along her skin just as she’d imagined him doing earlier.

“Then, what do you say now?”

She swallowed hard. “I want you to kiss me.”

She could barely hear her own words, and she hoped like hell he had because she wasn’t sure she could get them past the dryness of her throat again.

When his mouth quirked into one of those smiles she was beginning to crave, the ones she’d only seen him give her, she knew he was going to do exactly what she’d asked for. And more.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He leaned down, so slowly she couldn’t wait. Instead, she lifted up onto her toes and sealed their lips together, as if another millisecond would be too long to wait.

But where she would’ve rushed, he refused to allow it.

The hand cupping her cheek slid back into her hair, cupping her head and tilting her so he could get a better angle on her mouth, controlling the pace of the kiss. When he had her where he wanted her, he slipped his tongue between her lips and proceeded to dominate her.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know he was going to do it. Hell, she was looking forward to it.

All that control she exercised all day melted into submission when he had his hands on her. And he knew exactly how to make her beg for it.

He kissed her even more expertly this time, as if he was learning exactly what she liked, what made her sigh and squirm. Which was anything he did to her.

She craved it all. The way his hand cupped her head, then moved to wrap her hair around his fingers. The way he tugged back her head, making her scalp sting and her skin flush with heat. The way her body felt electrified at every point of contact.

Moaning into his mouth, her arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, until the ridge behind his zipper pressed against her lower stomach. Already hard and throbbing, his cock encouraged her to rub her pelvis against his, making him groan and kiss her hard enough that their teeth clacked together.

He seemed to lose a little more of his control with each pass of his tongue against hers and she liked that, too.

His free hand roamed the expanse of her back, stroking along her spine until she wished like hell that he’d stick that hand under her shirt and touch her bare skin. Or better yet, strip off her shirt and her bra and put his hands all over her.

She shuddered just thinking about it. Which made him tug her closer.

Not bad, but not what she wanted.

She’d need to show him. No problem there.

Her hands slid to his waist, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up until she had her hands on his skin. Warm flesh that she knew was covered with ink. An allure all its own.

Later, she wanted to explore that ink with her hands and her tongue but right now she wanted to feel his naked skin pressed against hers.

She kept pulling his shirt up until he drew back and stared down at her.

“You want that off?”

His tone held a hint of humor but his expression was all lustful intent. When she nodded, he reached a hand behind his back and tugged the shirt over his head in one smooth movement, taking her breath away.

My god. He was gorgeous.

Her gaze fell on his chest, now completely bare. Even more muscled than she’d expected. And with beautiful art decorating the skin.

She immediately reached out to trace the words written in script across his left pectoral.

“Lyrics.”

She hadn’t asked a question but he answered anyway. “Yes. To the first song Nik and I wrote.”

Fallen angels, black wings

Where the light meets the dark

Never falter, never fail

Never will we part

On the right side of his chest, a pair of black angel wings shed their feathers down over his ribs and one lone feather peeked out of over the top of his waistband. Her gaze stayed on that for several seconds before she saw the ink that curved around his left hip. Tread marks, as if someone had run over his body.

Stepping around him, she followed their path. He’d released his hold on her so she could move, and now she stood at his back, trailing her fingers over the complete set of piano keys inked diagonally across. She wished she knew how to play because she so wanted to run her fingers along his skin in some meaningful way.

Around the keys, swirls and patterns in brilliant color made the stark black and white stand out even more. Mixed into the pattern were more angel feathers, a guitar, and musical notes.

“This is beautiful.”

She ran her fingers along the ink, practically hearing the tinkle of the keys.

“I go to the same artist for all my ink.”

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to the center of his back, right over one of the feathers.

“Aw, fuck.”

Bending forward, he put his hands on top of the piano and went still, as if waiting for her to continue.