Free Sweet Melody (Rock & Rodeo Romance #1) by Jaye Ripley

headed,” he starts. “I mean, I know where I want to go, if you’re willing. But not right now. Not on the couch. But, yeah. Maybe? Shit, I’m fucking this up.”
    Hot damn, look at the effect I have on the domineering sexy singer. One second, he has me submitting. The next, I’ve got him flustered. When we finally come together, it’s gonna be one hell of a ride.
    “No worries. I wanted to thank you in the best way I knew how for tonight, and words didn’t seem like enough. It was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience.” I kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
    His face softens, and his eyes finally meet mine. “The feeling’s more than mutual. And thank you for going with it. My God, woman, you can sing.”
    My turn to feel self-conscious. “I didn’t know I could. Not like that at least. I think it’s the effect of a sexy man giving me commands.”
    “And some bourbon,” Hunter adds. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
    My snort surprises us both. His good lie breaks the spell surrounding us. “Yeah, right. This is my work uniform, and I’m a walking mass of sweat. Nothing beautiful or sexy about it.”
    The space of the room swallows his genuine laugh. “I think we both have good reasons to be sweaty tonight. Being the front man of a band is hard work.”
    “Oh yes, I’m sure being a sex god in front of all those screaming women works you hard , sir.”
    My smartass remark earns me a light spank from him.
    “Anyway, would you mind terribly if I took a quick shower in the locker room? I mean, if you need to go…you don’t have to stick around.” I give him a clear out—a last chance to stop things.
    “That’s right. I forgot there are showers here. I could use one myself. Except I didn’t bring a change of clothes or even a clean T-shirt with me.”
    I offer him my hand, and move us in the direction of the locker rooms. “We’ve got extra work shirts here.”
    It takes no time to rummage one of the old logo shirts from a box in the storage room.
    “You bad girl,” he rumbles in my ear after I give it to him.
    “Damn straight.”
    “Meet you at my truck in 10.”
    And he’s back to being bossy again.
    “Give me like 15, and I’ll see you there, sir .” With a short salute, I leave to take my shower.
    Moving on from the Tilt-A-Whirl to the Zipper. My stomach flips at the rush of adrenaline of what comes after the next fifteen minutes.

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    T he shower offers more than a chance to clean myself up. It refreshes me, and gives me the space to clear my head. No point in denying that Hunter’s still dangerous. But if I play my cards right, the two of us can have an incredible time tonight and maybe into tomorrow. Then he can go on his merry way to Nashville, and my body can go back to its deliberate celibacy having rebooted itself with a little booty.
    Walking out of the club, my hand checks the placement of the red bandana one more time, making sure it still holds my hairstyle, looser now after my shower, in place for now. The bag full of condoms, thanks to Bee, rests on my shoulder. Each step toward Hunter solidifies my choice for tonight.
    It doesn’t take me long to see his huge black Ford F-150. The motor runs while he waits for me, so he doesn’t hear me approach. When I knock on the window, he jumps a bit, dropping his cell phone into his lap.
    “Caught me off guard,” he says as he steps out of his truck with a sheepish grin.
    “You were expecting someone else? Okay, goodbye.” I turn on my heel, but he catches my elbow.
    He pulls me in for a strong but quick kiss. “Not so fast. No turning back now. And look. I’ve got something to show you.” He hands me his cell phone. “Somebody already posted a video of us singing the last song.”
    There we are on a shaky but clear video singing to each other a musical foreplay, oblivious to the world. The playback lasts until the final kiss, but I don’t want to watch the dull copy. I want to experience the real thing.
    I hand