FALLING FOR THE ROCKSTAR (#1 ROCKSTAR SERIES)

♪ twenty-one ♪ 🔥

"I am into you, Emma."

My ears popped; my heart thumped.

Next I knew, I was dancing—with Leo, I thought. Too inebriated to tell for sure. But who else would it be? I was his, tonight.

He danced behind me, super close, pressing his junk into me. (I wasn't mad about it). He rubbed his hands up my waist, stopping below my armpits. Then his hands slithered forward, grabbing my breasts, squeezing, massaging. I let out a moan, but the music played too loud for anyone to hear. The friction turned him on, too, and my excitement grew.

It was Leo. I smelled his spicy breath, recognized his warmth, the sensation of his guitar-playing hands on me.

But was I hallucinating? Or were we dancing like that, drunkenly groping each other on the dancefloor in front of everyone?

"The moment I met you that night, at dinner."

I was at the bar, sipping through a neon straw, something bubbly and minty and delicious. Someone spoke to me, and I was speaking back, but I had no idea what I was saying.

"Deeply so."

I was on the couch, legs crossed, staring at Leo as he chatted with friends near the window. I stuck a finger in my mouth and wound it around my tongue, lusting after him, growing wetter and wetter by the minute.

Whoa—what was going on? Leo couldn't see me or wasn't paying attention to me; no one was. They were dancing, sniffing lines off the coffee table, drinking from martini glasses piled high with whipped cream over chocolaty liquid.

I was seductive, sexy; or so, I thought. Was I coming off that way? Or was I an intoxicated mess slobbering all over her own finger and wriggling about in distorted ways?

"I have been..."

I stood at a window, peering out at the sights. A different window, smaller than in the living room, and not attached to a terrace. Below was a blur of flashing lights and twinkling buildings. I rubbed my eyes, forgetting I was wearing make-up—and gasped as I sensed a presence behind me.

I dizzily spun to find Leo, sitting on the corner of a gold-covered bedspread, smirking at me. "Hi, sweetheart." His voice morphed in my ears, and I could see two of him. "You all right?"

"Oh, God," I said, traipsing over to sit beside him. We were in a dark, spacious room; I was able to visualize him because of the lights coming from the window. Was this Leo's bedroom? "What the fuck did I do?"

"Nothing to embarrass yourself, I promise." He patted my knee, still smiling. The glow from the scenery below illuminated his face, and though he appeared to have four eyes, he was gorgeous. "Everyone is gone, so I figured it was time to put you to bed."

"Put me to bed?" My palms sank into the plush bedding. "This is my bed? Our bed?"

"Your bed," he said softly, standing up. "One of the guest rooms. I assumed you'd want your privacy." He stood before me and placed a wet kiss on my forehead. How was he not stumbling, like I'd been? He drank as much, if not more, than me. Did drugs, too. All my flashy memories showed him holding a drink. Or sniffing something. Or smoking something.

Yet there he was, stable on his feet, dripping in perfection. Iridescent like some angel, his beautiful body ever more appealing.

"...into you, Emma."

I was in the fancy gold-covered bed. The pillows were propped up, and the blankets pulled up to my chest.

In a panic, I patted myself down, checking if I was naked. Phew, I was in my lingerie. I hadn't brought a change of clothes, so of course, I would have stripped to my bra and underwear to sleep more comfortably. That dress was not meant to get wrinkled under the sheets, and it would have sprinkled sparkles all over the place.