Eric: A Clean Billionaire Romance Read online

  “I’m sure you do,” she finally offers sympathetically. “To no more men.”

  “Cheers,” I say lifting my glass toward my lips as Stacy follows suit.

  Behind me, music begins to play from the stage as the band finally returns. I listen to those first few thuds of the drums before guitar chords fly toward me like invisible arrows. Each one hits its mark, making my spine straighten and my lungs freeze.

  Slowly, I start turning toward the remarkable music just as a deep and gruff voice swells through the air. Even though I’ve never believed I was all that into rock music, the skin of my bare shoulders explodes with goose bumps like I’ve just tumbled feet first into a winter stream. The burn of the cheap shot stings my lips, but I barely feel it. I’m too entranced by the soulful voice piercing my heart.

  A lone beam of light illuminates him, the shot glass slipping from between my fingers. I don’t hear it clatter against the floor. I am entirely, completely, irresistibly, drawn toward the man singing on the stage. I feel as though I can’t even control my body, like the dance is winding its way out of my soul.

  He sways to the beat, a red guitar in his large hands. The spotlight glows upon his toned body, his head tilted back just slightly so that he can sing from the very bottom of his heart.

  I’ve never heard anyone with a voice like that.

  “I wonder if he’s Sally,” I whisper numbly, making Stacy stare at me in utter bewilderment.

  “What?” she asks, but her voice melts away behind me, fading into the background.

  All I can hear is his beautiful voice.

  His gaze sweeps over the writhing bodies of the crowd as he rocks back and forth, expertly strumming the red guitar in his hands. I can’t help but to wonder what else those hands are capable of. Then, like I’m a magnet and he’s a steel bar, he finds me. Our eyes suddenly lock in the most intense way. My breath is frozen in my lungs, my blood boiling in my veins, my heart pounding to his music.

  I keep expecting him to look away, but he never does.

  My feet pull me toward the stage. His voice slowly quiets, earning confused looks from the other two men on the stage. He continues to stare at me, his jaw dropping just slightly. I can no longer hear the beat of the drums. I can no longer see anything but his dark eyes. Those black irises are deep and endless pools with something hidden within them. Something I must discover.

  Something about this handsome man resonates in my heart. Something beyond the fact that he’s a sexy rock god. It doesn’t help that he’s just my type, the absolute personification of tall, dark, and dangerous. Tattoos curl up the tan skin of his arms, making me want to see more. I glide closer to the stage, my feet on a mission.

  The other two members of the band stop playing when their lead singer goes silent. I don’t want this song to end. I want more. I need it.

  “Please,” I whisper, as though I’m saying it right into his ear. “Don’t stop.”

  Chapter 5

  Eric

  I’ve seen many beautiful women.

  They’ve wandered in and out of my life, falling into my bed for a night or rarely two. That’s just part of being a musician. They come creeping out of the woodwork, desperate to cling to you and who you may become if your guitar leads you straight to the fame. Some women drop their panties at the first cord, sure it will lead to status and money. But not her. I can tell she’s different.

  Never in all of my life have I seen a woman like her.

  She stands there like a queen among peasants, like a glowing star among black skies, like a beautiful rose among thorns. No woman has ever caught my gaze like this. Though I’m known to my friends as a woman chaser, I’ve never once found myself shocked into silence in the middle of a performance just from one look into a pair of eyes so gorgeous they make my entire body feel like I’m holding a live wire.

  Music has always been my first love, the only thing I’ve ever been devoted to, and I’m not sure that my band knows quite what to do now that my jaw has hit the stage floor and my eyes are all but popping out of my skull at the sight of the blonde bombshell in the crowd.

  She’s all legs wrapped in a sheer white shirt that makes her look like an angel—an unbearably sexy angel that could seduce every last crumb of food from a starving man. She may not have wings, but she sure does make me feel like I’m flying.

  Among the dancing bodies, the woman stands perfectly still and I find myself unable to blink, terrified that if I do she may disappear. Surely a girl like this must be at least partially a hallucination. Maybe that tequila Donovan sent me was laced with something. Maybe I died up here on this stage and she’s here to collect my soul.

  If that’s the case, she can have me.

  She’s absolutely smoking, her golden hair reflecting the pulsing overhead lights as they revolve over the twisting crowd. Though the bar is dingy and packed, she glows like a pure beacon of light.

  Faintly, I hear James and Alex struggling to carry on the music, but I can’t bring myself to care about anything but staring at the gorgeous girl before me. I find myself thinking she belongs on a runway in Europe.

  So what the hell is she doing in a place like this?

  This girl could have anyone she wants. I bet all she has to do is wink at a guy and they fall at her feet, clinging to her ankles and begging to do her bidding. It’s all I can do not to leap off this stage right now and do just that.

  And she’s looking right at me.

  Just the sight of her makes my throat go so tight that I know I can’t sing another note. As we gaze at one another, the room spinning around us so fast that everyone else completely disappears from view, her stunned expression slowly changes. A frown finds her lush lips and it makes my heart ache. I don’t want her to be unhappy. I’ll do anything to make a smile light her face again.

  Her chin tips up as her lips slowly begin to move, forming simple words that ripple through me like ten thousand volts of electricity. Just like that, I remember that I’m standing on this stage for a reason. I’m here to sing, and now I have a muse in the audience who I can sing directly to.

  Words slowly rise up in the back of my mind, words that I penned for no one, but now seem only to fit the young Kate Moss lookalike in front of me. This song wasn’t supposed to come until later in the set, but I have to sing it now, just for her.

  “You’re like a dream,” I croon, making James and Alex clumsily shift gears as they catch up to the song change, abandoning the last one before it was finished. The crowd is slightly confused by the change, but willing to adapt.

  I belt out the next verse. “You make me want to scream . . .”

  Slowly, my muse begins to move to the beat. Her eyes remain locked on mine, her hands slowly snaking over her waist and then up her ribs.

  Sweat forms on the nape of my neck, my fingers taut against the guitar strings. “I’ve never wanted anything so bad,” I gasp into the mic, the words raw with meaning as the woman’s hands trail delicately over the curves of her breathtaking body.

  What I wouldn’t give to touch her, to feel her supple shape beneath my hands. I have wanted and I have lusted, but it’s never felt like this. I’m so captivated by this girl that it takes all my resolve not to drop Camilla and leap off the stage to take this sexy mystery woman into my arms. I bet she tastes like strawberries and champagne or hell, I don’t know, something fancy and bittersweet. Whatever her taste, I know it’s intoxicating, more so than any wine or liquor, because I’m drunk just looking at her.

  “Give me your heart, baby, and your body too,” I sing, squeezing my guitar against my body the way I want to hold her.

  She lifts her hair over her head, shimmering strands of gold spilling over her face as she dances. With her eyes gazing so deeply into my own, it’s like she can see right into my soul, like every inch of me is hers for the taking, and I would let her take me. All of me. Anything she wants.

  Camilla swings down toward my hips as I grab the mic in both hands, pulling it clos
er to my mouth. My lips brush against the rough curve of the metal, making me ache even more for those glossed lips of hers.

  She does a slow spin, her arms still over her head, her beautiful hips swaying back and forth so that the short fabric of her skirt sways teasingly.

  I bite hard at my lip, unable to resist anymore. Whoever this girl is, I need her. More than food, than water, than air . . . all that matters is her.

  Chapter 6

  Morgan

  My body moves of its own accord, my lower lip delicately ensnared under my two front teeth as I dance. Even though I’m used to attention from others, I don’t normally dance like this. But there’s something about the way that he’s singing and the way that I’m moving that feels so right, so . . . intimate. Like our souls are connected by a livewire that neither one of us can truly grasp.

  Nothing matters except sharing this moment.

  I am not a woman who believes in love at first sight or that such a deep connection can be formed so instantly, but I can’t even begin to wrap my head around the depth of this bond I feel with this handsome mystery man. I know nothing about him other than he has the most beautiful, soulful eyes and a voice that seizes my heart.

  It has nothing to do with him being on a stage or the spotlight swathing him in golden light or the people cheering for him, and everything to do with the way he seems unable to break his gaze from mine. In one moment, I feel that he truly sees me, the way no one else ever has before. And all I want is to bathe in his gaze forever.

  The heat of his eyes on my body makes me feel bare and beautiful. I can feel him mentally peeling back the layers of my clothing as I dance. My fingers play with the hem of my shirt, lifting it just slightly up over my belly button, exposing tan flesh that I want so badly for him to touch.

  His eyes remain locked on me as though his words are only meant for my ears even though the small rock bar is gridlocked with bodies. His voice has drawn them in, each person eager to find the source of his alluring voice.

  The crowd comes alive around me, twisting and moving faster with each perfect strike of drums. It’s as though we’re all sharing the same breath, as we sway to the rhythm making my heart pound faster against my ribs.

  “You make me wanna do bad things, baby,” he crones in that effortlessly deep voice of his as the drum takes off into a solo, making the crowd go wild with excitement, but I’m just dying to hear more of his voice.

  I couldn’t care less for the drummer or the man playing the bass, all I want is more of him—my mystery rocker god.

  His head bobs slightly with the beat as the bass player edges forward, his fingers flying over his instrument so quickly they seem to blur. I can feel the singer’s dark eyes still locked on me, following the swirl of my hips as I rock back and forth to the song. I’ve never thought of myself as particularly graceful, even for a model, but the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like I’m the one on stage—and I love it.

  I’d dance for him forever just so that he never had to look away.

  No one else seems to notice the way we can’t take our eyes off each other. It’s like we’re the only two people in this bar. I soak up his interest like a sponge, allowing the warmth of his hungry gaze to wash away the memory of my terrible day. While I’d been desperate to shake away the remnants of my wannabe photographer, when it comes to the rock god, I can’t get enough of his gaze. He can look all he wants.

  Suddenly, he’s moving.

  Light refracts off his swinging guitar and the muscles of his lean body are briefly illuminated by the overhead lights as he bends down on the edge of the stage in one fluid motion. The crowd gasps as he crouches, his hand extending toward me. I freeze in confusion, watching as the crowd parts like the Red Sea as the rocker beckons me.

  Startled, I simply stare at his outstretched palm, my hands still in my hair, my hips still mid-sway.

  “Come up here,” he says, his voice husky with something beyond the strain of singing all night. “Come dance with me.”

  A need seeps through his voice, planting itself somewhere deep in my core. Now isn’t the time for doubt. All I’d wanted was to be closer to this man and now I finally have my chance.

  Hastily, I let my palm fall against his. His fingers are coarse as they wrap around mine, drawing me toward him. His tattooed hands wrap around my small waist with a strength that leaves me trembling. Effortlessly, he lifts me onto the stage so that I’m standing at his side, his fingers gripping my hip in a way that makes me bite back a moan.

  “Do you like the music?” he whispers into my ear, the drummer and bass players still reveling in their solos.

  When I nod, he lifts my hand over my head to spin me around to the tune of the song. I twirl easily on the silver heel of my stiletto so that my back is facing him. He tucks my spine against his chiseled abs, his arm draping around my waist. He finds my hips again, daring fingers skimming the skin just below my shirt. I bend just slightly to the side, allowing him as much access to my flesh as he could want.

  There’s just something irresistible about this guy. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never wanted anything like I want him to touch me, to whisper in my ear, to hold me.

  “You’re a good dancer,” he murmurs, the heat of his breath tickling the lobe of my ear. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you out there.”

  When I try to respond, that same moan gurgles up in the back of my throat and I have to bite down hard on my lip, choosing to nod rather than risk speaking, though he probably wouldn’t even hear my lustrous sounds over the raging crowd.

  I glance out over the people below the stage, just barely registering Stacy in her cardigan sipping from a neon blue martini at the bar. She winks when she realizes I’ve spotted her, lifting her glass playfully toward me and hiding a sly grin.

  Then my attention is again drawn back to the man swaying behind me when his palm presses against my stomach so that my hips grind back against his. Our bodies seem to fit perfectly together, my eyes pressing shut as his hand slides over the smooth flesh of my hip, playing tauntingly with the hem of my skirt.

  He knows just what he’s doing, I realize. He’s teasing me . . . and it’s working. My body feels so hot that I can hardly breathe and when I crack open my eyes, everything seems to glow a passionate red.

  Just before I’m about to beg him to strip me despite all these people watching, he again lifts my hand and twirls me so that I dizzily crash against his chest once more. His hand is firm to keep me steady. My breath catches in my throat, chest rising and falling in a shallow pant of desire.

  Up close, his eyes are even more mesmerizing, the dark irises freckled with silver. I gaze into them, wishing that I never had to stop.

  That same magnetic pull from earlier ignites in my blood and I lean up onto my toes at the same time his face descends toward mine. Our mouths crash, my arms slipping around his neck to draw me closer to him. His guitar knocks against my side, but I don’t care. All that matters is him and me and this moment—a moment that’s over all too soon when the music begins to change to a new song.

  Only then do we part, my lips left swollen and bruised, my lungs gasping for air. He grins down at me, the tip of his tongue tracing his upper lip as though he were savoring the taste of me.

  I can feel the expectant stares of his band before he slowly moves to help me off the stage once more. Every inch I edge away from him is painful. Before I can take a full step away, his hand shoots out again to grab mine, pulling me toward him. His mouth brushes my ear, his words so soft I have to strain to hear. “After the show, meet me backstage,” he insists, not leaving room for an argument I never would’ve been able to give.

  While I’m left stumbling and dazed, he lifts his guitar once more for their final song, leaving me wondering if I’d just dreamt up that entire interaction.

  As terrible as this week had been, suddenly things are a whole lot better.

  How could they not be after that kiss?

&nbs
p; Chapter 7

  Eric

  “Dude, that was the best show we’ve ever played!” Alex exclaims, taking another swig from a flask that I suspect he’s gotten refilled at the bar.

  We’ve all taken turns passing it around until my toes are tingling and my fingers are numb—just the way I like it.

  “We totally killed it out there,” James adds. “Those people were going crazy. I bet we’re gonna have shows lined up for months after this.”

  Still dazed from my encounter with the beautiful blonde, I give a distracted nod while trying to pretend to be interested in what my bandmates are saying. In reality, all I can think about is that kiss!

  Though it’d been fleeting, it was like a sucker punch to the gut. Every inch of me is still yearning for her.

  As I’d expected, she tasted as divine as she looked. Lyrics already begin swirling in my mind as I think of her. A shiver rolls up my spine, my lips dry and tongue thick with desire. I’ve never felt anything like this, not in all my time as a flirtatious Casanova.

  “I know, right?” Alex says in agreement, pausing to shoot a grin at me that barely penetrates the haze of my lust. “Even with you almost bailing at the end there. What was up with that? A pretty girl caught your eye, Easy E?”

  The nickname irritates me, but I put on a forced smile anyway. If I argue with them, they’re just going to lay it on even thicker. “Would you expect anything else?” I smirk, playing my part.

  To be honest, I’m counting the seconds until I can push them out of the dressing room so I can meet my gorgeous mystery girl. My entire body feels off, like I left part of it behind with her when I had to let her back off the stage. I hadn't wanted to. In fact, I could’ve played the rest of the show with her in my arms, but I know it would’ve pissed off my band.

  My muse had stood there for just a moment longer to watch me start the last song, her eyes churning like blue fire over high cheekbones, before she vanished into the crowd. I blinked and she was gone. Hopefully my mysterious angel hadn't fluttered off to some distant cloud. If she doesn’t come to my room tonight, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to recover.