Slow Body Rock (Rockstar Romance) by Nora Flite

into the crowd, another writhing body.
    I had a funny thought about human wallpaper. I couldn't indulge in it, though; Drezden hadn't stopped staring at me. “I didn't start that,” I said, expecting him to be snippy. “And I could've handled it myself.”
    “The drink stain on his shirt says you did.” Cocking his head like a hawk, a smile tugged at one side of his lips. “If I get too close, will you do the same thing to me?”
    Tobacco and salt filled my nose, replacing the sourness of the stranger. “You'd need to get me a drink, first.” Drezden threw back his head, laughing. If he thought I was being funny, it was fine. I honestly didn't know what I would do if he got too close.
    His green eyes became black smoke. “And if I don't give you a drink at all?”
    “You think I've had too much already.” It was a flat statement. I was half-way to drunk, but not there yet. Things were fuzzy and fun and my head could have floated away. But I wasn't smashed, I held my own feet. I knew when some creep was getting too interested.
    Probably.
    Drezden isn't a creep. I ran my eyes over his torso in that tight fitted ribbed top, a clean replacement after our show. It's possible I'm the creep.
    The singer was quiet. We stood there in the middle of a war, fists and knees punching all around us. Magically we were untouched. Always, he and I managed to escape in a bubble no one dared to break. What did others sense around us? What kept them at bay?
    His fingers glided up my outside wrist before I thought to stop him. By then, it was too late. “It's not that. You can drink as much as you want. It's just hard to dance with a glass in your hand.”
    Heat twinkled like stars in his face; I wanted to gaze forever and vanish into his galaxy. It was so easy to just fall into him. If I tumbled headfirst, I'd float forever and never return. “You want to dance with me when every girl here is clawing her eyes out to get your attention?”
    “Why would that matter?” He tugged me, guiding me closer to his chest. “I want to spend more time with you.”
    More? The music rolled in my belly, coaxing me to give in. “We spent the last two days on a bus together, then played a show tonight. How can there even be more time to spend?”
    “Whatever time there is, I'll find it.” Drezden's hands dug into me. It was a beautiful pain, begging me to crush myself against him. “Guess I'll just spend less time breathing.”
    My fear warned me not to get closer; if we touched our bodies, we'd both burn up. But would it be the worst way to go? I looked for my tongue, tried to make it wet my dry mouth. Nothing was in my control anymore. All my pieces wanted to obey the ache Drezden was creating. “Suffocating over me sounds ridiculous.” When did my hips start rocking to the beat? “Normal people just cut out activities they can afford to stop.”
    He made a path up to my shoulders, tracing the outside edge of my sleeves. “Advise me.”
    Boldly, I reached behind him. His nostrils flared wide. The spike of pleasure I got from surprising him was... thrilling. Especially when I closed my grip on his back pocket; the pack of cigarettes crinkled. It was scant millimeters from a straight up ass-grab.
    Drezden's expression darkened. “This,” I said softly. We were close enough that the music didn't blur me out. “How about you try smoking less? Earlier today, all the time you wasted when you stormed off to—”
    “I know.” His palm closed over my fingers, trapping me against his pocket. “It's just something I do when I'm stressed.”
    He'd told me he didn't get scared over shows. My gut prickled, knowing there was only one other thing that could make sense. “Then why not just quit?”
    Thumbs squeezed, I worried he'd leave his fingerprints. “Withdrawal is soul sucking.” In his pause, there was something unsaid. Watching me with a dangerously dark hunger, he bent down. His whisper clenched around my lungs. “When did you become my