Love's Rhythm by Lexxie Couper Page B

shirt her skin could be touching his skin now. In fact, she should remove her own shirt. Share her body heat with him. Let her warmth heal him. Let her body soothe the pain she’d caused him. It was only right.
    She tried to pull away, tried to disengage herself from the kiss. The need to strip naked was too powerful to ignore, but Nick wouldn’t let her. His hands raked down her back, his arms cinching around her, as if he feared she was going somewhere. Ha! She wasn’t going anywhere. Why would she, when Nick was kissing her with such ruthless abandon and greed? When his erection ground against her belly, an undeniable testament to his desire for her? She moaned again, her innermost muscles clenching, wanting that which her body and her heart remembered all too easily—Nick inside her, possessing her. Filling her. Fucking her.
    Making love to her.
    Like he used to.
    Used to.
    The thought slipped through the rising pleasure consuming her mind. Used to. Past tense. There was a reason for that. He’d left her. For something else. For the groupies, the starlets.
    She tore her lips from his, turning her head away. She had to stop this, fight it.
    Nick’s fingers found her chin, returning her face to his, at once determined and refusing argument. His mouth captured hers again, his tongue and lips growing fierce. Arrogant.
    Fresh pleasure crashed through Lauren. How was she to resist this? No one had ever kissed her like Nick, with such single-minded purpose and hunger. With a hunger that made her feel worshipped and sensual and wanton and desired beyond reason.
    No one else had ever made her ache for more like Nick. No one had ever made her very soul sing.
    Oh Lord, she was still in love with him. Still in love with the man who’d broken her heart and killed the song in her soul.
    A chill razed through the heady pleasure trying to consume her. She stiffened, her stupid, foolish heart leaping into her throat, her intoxicated brain finally catching up with her sanity. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this again. It was no good for her. No good for Josh. No good for anyone.
    She flattened her palms on Nick’s chest and shoved. Hard. Hard enough to force him back a stumbling step. He stared at her, chest heaving, eyes smoldering. He looked gorgeous and sexual and dangerous. Oh fuck, if he reached for her again…
    “No,” she croaked, shaking her head. “I can’t.”
    “I bet Josh doesn’t kiss you like that, Lauren,” he said, his voice as strained as her own. He pulled a ragged breath, his eyes half-lidded, his pupils dilated. “Tell me he does and I’ll walk away right now, but I’ll know if you’re lying. I always did. I don’t want to compete for you, babe, but I will. I will show you what this Josh can’t give you, I will reawaken the pleasure I gave you all those years ago until you can’t think of anyone else but me. Until you forget all about Josh and let me make you mine again.”
    Hot, tight tension speared into Lauren’s core at Nick’s statement. Her sex contracted, grew wet. Her breath caught at the naked desire in his eyes.
    Her chest squeezed at the arrogant conceit of his words. Nick the rock star. The man used to getting exactly what he wanted. Damn him.
    She clenched her jaw, tilting her chin to fix him with an unwavering glare. “I will never forget about Josh, Nick Blackthorne. I’ll forget about you the minute you walk away from me—again—like I did fifteen years ago, but I will never forget about Josh. Ever. And you’ll never, ever compete with him.”
    Nick’s eyes flared grey fire. “I beg to differ. And by the smell of your pleasure on the air, so does your body.”
    Lauren balled her hands into fists. “You will never compete with him.”
    “And why not?”
    “Because he’s my son. Now leave me the fuck alone.”
    A calm stillness fell over Nick. His nostrils flared again. His Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. “You do have children.”
    His voice