Free Crash Into Me by Tracy Wolff

his performances were loaded with expectations—from the fans, from
     the other members of Shaken Dirty, from the concert promoters, their managementand
     the record label. And from himself most of all. The worst part was that he felt like
     he rarely met those expectations. How could he when he spent so much time wondering
     how and when and where he was going to fuck everything up? It was his legacy from
     his father, and from Carrie.
    But being with Jamison wasn’t like that. At least not after she’d made it clear he
     hadn’t screwed anything up with his little escapade on the couch. That he hadn’t hurt
     her or scared her or… He shut his mind off before it could go where he didn’t want
     it to. There was no need to dredge up all the things he couldn’t change. Not here.
     Not now.
    “Okay, so I have a very serious question for you,” Jamison told him as she twisted
     her crazy mess of hair into a makeshift bun at the top of her head. She secured it
     with a couple of pencils she’d found in her purse, but within seconds it started to
     break free of the confinement, locks tumbling with abandon over her cheeks and the
     back of her neck.
    With a sound of exasperation, she started to tuck them back into the bun. She hadn’t
     gotten very far when he reached over and plucked all three pencils out of her hair.
     He threw them across the room before she could demand them back, then watched as all
     that glorious hair came tumbling down around her shoulders. It was like a flame, beckoning
     him, and for a second—just a second—he imagined what it would feel like to fist his
     hands in those curls while he was inside her. To have them sliding over his shoulders,
     his chest, his cock—
    “Are you kidding me?” she exclaimed in obvious exasperation. “Now I have to start
     all over again.” Her hands were back in her hair, this time twisting it into some
     kind of knot at the base of her neck.
    “Leave it.” He brushed her fingers away, tucked a few errant curls behind her ear.
     “It looks good the way it is.”
    He was playing with fire. He knew he was. Just like he knew he was going to get burned—this
     was Jared’s sister, after all. Little Jamison, the same girl he’d helped teach self-defense
     to before her first date and how to drive a car when she turned sixteen.
    Only she hadn’t felt so little when she’d been on top of him, her glorious body pressed
     to his. She’d felt like a beautiful, sexy woman he wanted more than he wanted his
     next breath. Even now, part of him desired nothing more than to pull her beneath him
     and make love to her the way his cock was screaming for him to.
    If she had been any other woman, he would have taken what she was offering without
     a second thought. It wasn’t like he was in the habit of self-denial and he wanted
     her, badly. He wanted to hold her. To touch her. To kiss her right now, with nothing
     between them but the desire that throbbed in the air like the final notes of a love
     song.
    He wanted to pull her body against his and explore the sweet recesses of her mouth
     without worrying about his past or her brother or any of the other things that were
     just waiting to ambush them.
    But this was Jamison and she deserved more, better, than anything he had to offer
     her. No matter what she thought.
    “Ryder.” Her breath broke on his name and heat flooded his cock.
    He closed his eyes for a few seconds, deliberately severing the forbidden connection
     between them. Then he forced an easy smile, forked up his last piece of waffle, and
     offered it to her like he had a million other times through the years. For a moment,
     she looked like she wouldn’t accept it. As if she knew doing so was one more step
     away from the strange and unsteady ground where they currently found themselves.
    But in the end, she must have known he needed her to make that step, because she leaned
     forward to take the bite, her soft pink lips closing around the fork