Sheer panic sucked the air from Roxy Carlisle's lungs and burned a trail throughout her entire body.
That she was in this state rocked her more than the feeling itself. Roxy didn't panic. Ever. She stared down hardened criminals for a living and laughed in their faces while they tried to intimidate her. She was the toughest person she knew. Nothing rattled her. Nothing could.
Nothing except the six-foot tall luscious man walking straight for her.
Luke Harris, lead guitarist for the band Wicked and her ultimate fantasy, was currently sauntering across the crowded hotel bar like a walking sex god. Her mouth watered with every step he took and the sight of him conjured visions that stole her breath.
Her every dream come true, he was a sensual piece of eye candy right down to those damn big clunky boots. He wore his trademark black leather pants and jacket but he'd worn a shirt to her disappointment. She wasn't aware the man owned one. Every time she saw him, whether on TV or in magazines, those incredible abs and delicious hipbones were visible. She felt cheated as she watched him now.
That is until she looked at his face.
His long black hair hung around chiseled features she'd memorized and tumbled over broad shoulders. Those intense, pale gray eyes scanned the crowd and perfectly bowed lips curled into a sarcastic smile. The man knew every woman in the room was watching him and he was right.
It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to turn around and see if someone was behind her. Someone he was looking at instead of her. She'd die if there were. She'd dreamed of meeting this man for two years now, ever since spying him on television when they played their first live show, and nothing would tarnish this particular dream. In her mind, it was her he was stalking. Her, he'd gazed at from across the room before he stood and left a gaggle of ladies standing gaped mouth as they watched him walk away.
She sucked in a breath, tossed her hair over one shoulder and turned back to the bar when he neared her. Her heart was beating so fast, she felt dizzy. Blood rushed through her veins, thundered in her ears, and she concentrated on getting one breath in and letting it out slowly.
The moment he stopped by her bar stool, her vision clouded. His voice sounded miles away. She closed her eyes, pulling on that reserve of steady nerves she used everyday of her life before opening them, and turning her head toward him.
The smug smile on his face was gone. So was that lusty gleam in his eye. Hatred burned in those smoky depths and Roxy was taken aback by the sudden change of attitude.
Luckily his anger wasn't directed at her.
She turned her head, looking over her left shoulder where he was staring and was surprised to see her best friend, Holly Baker, and the reason she was even in New York, Devin Shaw. They were standing at the bar entrance, arms tightly around each other, kissing like the earth was ending. Her best friend had met the man of her dreams and spent every waking minute in sexual bliss, judging the look on her face.
Of course, the man of her own dreams was standing scant inches away. Roxy turned her head, a lingering gaze traveling over the tall hunk of man who'd stopped by her chair. His attention was still on Devin and Holly.
His hair fell over his right shoulder, the midnight black tresses lost in the folds of his leather jacket. He smelled of sandalwood and spicy cologne and she inhaled the scent, restraining herself from closing her eyes and savoring him.
A rustle of fabric caught her attention and she glanced up. He was staring at her again. The intense look in his eye wasn't as strong as before, but his lips curved into a smile nonetheless.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
Roxy smiled and tilted her head toward her glass. "I have one."
"I see," he said. His tongue darted out, licking his full bottom lip. "Anything else I can get for you?"
Lord in heaven, the man was sinful. Heat rushed up her neck and Roxy couldn't breathe. "Plenty," she said.
Perfect white teeth gleamed behind a smile that made her panties wet and her imagination run wild. The man was simply too gorgeous for words. Especially when he smiled like that. It promised things too wicked to contemplate and lord help her she wanted to think about them. She'd fuck him right where he stood if he'd let her. Of course, the way he was looking at her, she didn't think he'd have any objections.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked.
She smiled and tried to catch her breath, letting her gaze wander over the sinful body she knew was hiding behind all that dark material. When she spoke, a husky whisper that surprised even her caused his eyes to flare hotly. "You have no idea what I have in mind."
He leaned forward, his mouth scant inches from her own. "Try me."
)
Roxy Carlisle is on a mission. She's been in lust with Luke Harris, lead guitarist for the band Wicked, for two years. When her best friend, Holly, hooks up with the bands lead singer, and asks her to tag along to New York with her to meet the band, Roxy couldn't pack her bags fast enough. The chance to meet Luke in person was a dream come true. Even better if her ultimate fantasy of finding herself in his bed were to happen. One way or another, she was determined to have him. That is, if Holly's hair-brained idea of playing hard to get doesn't backfire in her face. Luke Harris loves women and they love him. All he ever has to do is speak to them and they fall all over themselves to be the lucky lady of the night. That all changes though when a feisty brunette comes barreling into his life and changes all the rules. She's immune to his usual charm, or so it seems, but something in her eyes tells him otherwise. Has Luke finally met a woman he can't seduce? Can Roxy follow her plan and not give in when Luke sets his sights on her? When sex is all you're after, can you walk away when your heart demands more?
