Page 43 of Crazy Love

She stands a moment with her mouth open, contemplating. “You used my bass-line in your song.”

She’s got me over hot coals regarding that one. “You did write it on my arse,” I retaliate.

She grins, and the amusement shoots straight to her pretty blue eyes. “Is it still there?”

“Sharpie’s don’t wash off so easily.” As evidenced by the fact her mobile number is still recorded on my forearm. “So yeah, it’s still there.”

“Make it permanent and I’ll let you keep it and use it. I want a writing credit too.”

“For the song, or on my arse?”

“You don’t ask much, do you?” Dane remarks, but I can tell he’s warming to her. And actually, considering what he’s like around women, maybe that’s not a good thing. I lower my brows and fire a warning stare at him, which just makes him laugh.

Loveday grabs the front of my T-shirt and pulls me close, so that our lips are in danger of touching, and our lower limbs somehow already are. “For the song, obviously,” she says. “Honestly, Darke. If I was going to lay claim to a bit of you, it wouldn’t be your arse I’d be opting for.”

“Oh, aye?” Joel interjects. He makes a fanning motion with his hand as if to cool the heat in his cheeks.

“Tell me what you’d be opting for?” I cajole.

She angles her hips so that the seam of her leather trousers rubs against the fly of my jeans. “I would, but your kid brother and his friend are listening.”

Dane nonchalantly whistles and turns away. Joel follows, leaving the two of us centre stage, bathed in the glow of the spotlight with barely a millimetre of space between us.

“They can’t hear you now.”

Her palm strokes down over the bulge that’s now distorting my fly. “Hmm,” she groans. Then raises her hand and taps two fingers against my fore-head. “What’s in there, of course. That’s what excites me, along with this bit here.” She lays her hand over my chest where my heartbeat is thumping. “But I wouldn’t presume to lay claim to either.”

“I hope you’ll lay claim to them both.”

Her lips part and we kiss softly, entwining our bodies around one another. Somehow the gentleness makes it more meaningful than all the hot and heady stuff we’ve shared so far. We build bonds with that kiss. There’s a promise implicit in it.

Then her fingers curl over my arse, and squeeze. “I do like your beetle though,” she muses. “Especially when I get to lick it.”

“Fancy a celebratory fuck?” I ask.

She pushes me away with a sigh, though her eyes remain bright with good humour. “Nathaniel Darke, you’ve such a potty mouth and filthy mind.”

I pull her back into my arms. “Exactly as you like it, babe. Exactly as you like it. Remember, you told me yourself.”