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"Somehow I doubt that was your only option for prom night."

She smiles. "Let's just say I've always been more comfortable with test tubes than people."

"And yet here you are, at a party full of strangers."

"Here I am," she agrees. "Talking to the last person I expected to connect with tonight."

The air between us shifts, and I move closer, drawn to her like a magnet.

"What did you expect?"

"I expected the typical rock star. Arrogant. Self-absorbed. Living for the spotlight."

"And now?"

She tilts her head, studying me like I'm one of her science experiments. "Now I'm not sure what to think. You're... different."

"Different good or different bad?"

"Just different." I'm so close that I can smell her perfume. It can't be a pheromone unless she's an omega. Is she? "There's something about you that doesn't fit the image you project on stage."

"Maybe that's just the image you had in your head."

"Maybe." Her eyes drop to my mouth for a split second before returning to mine. "Or maybe you're just very good at hiding."

I swallow hard. No one has ever seen through me so quickly. It's terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

"What if I don't want to hide?" I close the distance between us. "Not tonight and not with you."

She doesn't back away. "Then don't."

That's all the invitation I need. I lean in, giving her time to pull back if she wants to. She doesn't. Instead, she meets me halfway, and when our lips touch, the world falls away.

The kiss starts soft but quickly deepens as she makes a small sound in the back of her throat that drives me wild. Her lips are soft and full, and she tastes like mint. I cup her face with one hand and angle her head to deepen the kiss.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.

"Fuck," I rest my forehead against hers. "I want you… Can I fuck you?"

"Yes," she nods. Her eyes are dazed and hungry.

I take her hand and lead her back inside through the crowd toward the hallway that leads to my private rooms. My heart pounds a rhythm in my chest that is more urgent than any drumbeat I've ever played to.

The hallway seems endless, but finally, we reach my room, and I take her into the bathroom for added privacy.

I close the door behind us, and the music from the party becomes a distant thump. My bathroom is massive, with a walk-in shower, soaking tub, and double vanity.

"Is this, okay?" I ask, suddenly worried she'll think this is tacky or desperate.

Her answer is to pull me down for another kiss. Her hands tangle in my hair, tugging slightly.

I back her up against the vanity, my hands roaming her curves through her dress. She arches into my touch, making soft noises that drive me crazy.

"God, you're gorgeous," I mutter against her neck, as I trail kisses down to her collarbone.

"Less talking, more doing," she commands, and I can't help but laugh.

"Bossy. I like it."