Opposites in temperament, success, and genre, two artists find they literally make beautiful music together...
The Hoolabaloo Musical Festival is one of the summer's biggest events, but country artist Macaulay Jensen isn't there for the much-needed career exposure. He's there to see one woman - rock and roll superstar Wendy DeMartino. Beautiful, wild, and wildly successful, Wendy is out of his league. So Macaulay is shocked when she agrees to an after-concert date.
Wendy has always been attracted to Macaulay, and she's thrilled when he asks her out on a date. But the reality of their lives is too pressing to ignore, and the most she hopes for is one perfect day...
...He stopped himself from dragging her out of the tent, but he did set a course for her bus, and he didn’t let anything get in his path. He didn’t want an enterprising journalist try to steal a second of their time. He didn’t want to get caught in the path of a flashing camera. He just felt the overwhelming need to be alone with her. Maybe to get even more confirmation he was right, and she did like him as much as he liked her.
Macaulay squeezed her fingers as they crossed the parking lot. “Now you’ve announced our collaboration, I guess we better get a song or two done this afternoon.”
“Did you mean it?” Her inquisitive eyes fixed on his. “You don’t think I’d fuck with your image or anything by singing something with you on your next album?”
“Why would that fuck with my image?”
She shrugged. “Some people just see the stage. Jill might have a problem with your music getting ties to mine. My audience is a little more…raucous than yours.”
“I don’t care. It’s all just music to me, Wendy. That’s why I love Hoolabaloo. Because I can pretend for a few days that we don’t all have our ridiculous little genres and niches, and we can just celebrate making music together.”
They reached her bus, but she paused on the first step to gaze back at him. It put them eye to eye, only a few inches apart, so there was no missing the way her sooty lashes ducked.
“You know, this is exactly why you amaze me, Macaulay Jensen. You have the purest soul of anyone I’ve ever known.”
Macaulay flushed with pleasure and resisted the impulse to look away from her—even though she didn’t mind his occasional bouts of shyness.
“Unfortunately, I can’t name any one reason you amaze me. It’s a whole bunch of things.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I think I want to kiss you again.”
“Better do it here then.” Her head tilted, her mouth grazing over his. “We do it inside, and neither one of us will pick up a guitar.”
For the first time in his life, Macaulay thought he’d found something that could keep him from his guitar. He kissed her slowly, feeling no need to rush through the moment. He just wanted to explore her mouth, to remind himself of the way she tasted, and the way her breath felt on his skin. He put both hands on her back, pressing her into his body. When she had stripped her shirt earlier, his mouth had watered at the first sight of her creamy skin, and now his cock hardened as her breasts brushed against his chest.
The sun beat down on his shoulders, but the slow flush spreading over his skin had nothing to do with that and everything to do with the sure slides of Wendy’s hands along his arms. She kissed him back like she meant it, like nothing else in this world mattered more to her than his caress. When his tongue touched hers, she even whimpered, drawing him deeper until his head swam. By the time she pulled back, she wasn’t the only one panting for breath.
“We better get to work if we don’t want to make a liar out of me,” she said.
Macaulay didn’t know how he could possibly concentrate on music when he could still taste her on his lips. He’d mis-finger a chord, or suggest they rhyme “moon” with “June,” and embarrass himself completely. But he nodded and released her, allowing her room to turn around and escape into the much-cooler bus...