I was living my dream. Getting clean. Making money. Making music. But the minute I caught his eye across the hotel room, I knew that I would give it all up, willingly, to be *that* important to him.

I didn't fool myself that it was going to be more than a one-night stand. I knew Brian's penchant for indulging himself at other people's expense. It was his way. He wanted something, and he got it. Whatever it was.

I could make him want me. I was good at that. But I didn't want that. Or not *just* that. I wanted him to feel as intensely about me…as I already felt about him. I was desperate…and I think it showed a little bit in my eyes.

But to my surprise, he didn't turn away. Or run. He pretended to be interested in the two girls who surrounded him, but I could tell the exact moment that his eyes slid back in my direction. God, that sent me into a full-body shiver. I almost stumbled over Jerry's little whore. What was her name? Shannon something?

There weren't any words in my vocabulary to describe him. He was fucking beautiful, and he knew it. Christ, he made me feel like I was headed out into a thunderstorm. Y'know? The way the air gets all heavy right before the skies crack open and splinter apart with lightning?

It was going to be that explosive between us, I could tell. But it wasn't going to be the major romance that Jerry wanted either. He thought that pushing the two of us together, we'd be so hopelessly infatuated with each other, it would be good for selling records.

Well, it was. It was *great* for selling records. It would definitely get me into his bed. The only problem was…I wanted to get into his heart. In spite of the way I was raised, in spite of everything I'd been through, I still believed in love.

Fuck. I wanted him so bad, I could taste it. But if I let him have me now…I was afraid I would never be able to hold onto him.

I edged my way towards the door, never taking my eyes off him. By now I knew he was watching me. The tension between us was so thick, even what's-her-name noticed. Jerry would have been disapppointed if he'd actually made eye contact with the girl he was fucking. She wasn't just bored. She was preoccupied. And not with him.

Nah, she was watching Brian…watching me. I don't know how she knew. But she did. I'd bet money on it.

I think if Jerry hadn't been screwing the life out of her, she would've tried to follow me. I don't know what I would've done then. Maybe the idea of Brian and me getting it on scared her. Maybe she didn't want to see her idol, and I knew for damn sure that wasn't *me*, get corrupted. Yep, that was the part I was born to play.

Wouldn't she be fucking amazed if she found out that I was really more of a hapless victim?

I glanced at him over my shoulder as I went through the door. His eyes burned a hole into my back, and I wondered what the hell was I thinking, starting this. I raced down the dimly lit hallway and ducked into Brian's bedroom before I could lose my nerve. I stripped my pants off and practically threw myself under the covers. I closed my eyes and thought, wouldn't it be funny as hell if he never left the fucking party and I fell asleep in his bed?

Yeah, that's what I thought, too. He might not leave the party, but there was no way on earth that I was going to sleep. My whole body was wired for action, and maybe I was going to have to take him any way I could get him, but that wasn't such a bad thing, was it?

The fact that I'd had to take way too many things on faith so far shouldn't matter. What was one more time, right?

He couldn't know how afraid of fucking this up I was. I huddled underneath the comforter and inhaled his scent. Bad idea. That provoked such an overwhelming wave of desire that I instantly forgot my nerves. I was rigid with need, something I've heard happens only in fucking romance novels, but it turned out to be true. I wished he would hurry, then I worried that he wasn't coming at all. I began to think that I'd misread his signals.

That's when I realized how bad I had it. It was every gay guy's nightmare. To fall in love with a straight guy. Someone who not only loved women, but married one. Someone who not only couldn't appreciate how you felt, but laughed at you behind your back. Played psychotic head games with you. Made you think he *could* love you, he just *didn't*. Because you weren't worth it. You couldn't be. Could *never* be.

This was the kind of thing that got me into trouble. I didn't know where I stood with Brian, and it was driving me crazy. Except I'd already been there a couple times, and I couldn't say that I liked it. I wanted a cigarette. I wanted a drink. But more than that, I wanted a hit. Coke, heroin, it didn't fucking matter. I had all these feelings and no one wanted them.

I could feel a scream bubbling up in my throat, and I thought, Jesus, Curt, you are the most pathetic thing walking around on two legs. Why can't you learn to settle for what you get? Why do you always have to want to be happy?

That didn't used to seem like too much to ask out of life. But life went on, lovers came and went, and I was still fucking alone.

I swiped a hand across my face, only mildly surprised to find out that I had tears in my eyes. I never cried. It opened me up in a way that was so fucking uncomfortable, I refused to go there. But that didn't stop my body from trying to betray me anyway.

I buried my face in Brian's pillow and thought, I'd rather die of frustration than fuck someone who doesn't really care about me. Brave words. But it was hard to have the courage of your convictions when temptation was standing on the other side of the door.

Why didn't he come in? What did he have to be scared of? Or shy about? Brian Slade was charming to a fault, but he hid his aggressions well. He was ambitious and self-centered and totally opposed to everything I stood for.

And I loved him. I was fucking crazy to think I could indulge myself like this. I needed to get up, get out, and forget I'd ever been in his bed. There was no way this could end in anything but heartache for me. I should have just cut my losses and run.

But I couldn't leave for the same reason I couldn't stay.

I loved him.

I didn't see him come in. I didn't hear him either. The first clue I had that he was there was when he slid into bed behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Hi," he said in that husky voice that I loved.

I tried to hide my reaction to that sputtery whisper, but it was impossible. I was as aroused as I was frustrated, and I was beginning to fray around the edges.

"I thought I'd never get here."

"Me, too." I hated that I sounded so needy. I hated that he could hear the longing that I didn't have the strength to disguise anymore.

"Mandy gave me this look and I—"

"I don't want to hear what she said."

"It's just—"

"I don't want to hear about your fucking wife!" I shouted. It was a good thing I had my back to him or I might have given in to the impulse to hurt him the way he inadvertently hurt me. He didn't even *know* he was doing it. And he probably didn't even *care*.

"Okay," Brian said quietly. I didn't give him nearly enough credit. I know *I* couldn't have been so fucking restrained if someone got up in *my* face and confronted *me*. Especially if that someone was so fucking *jealous* that he couldn't see straight.

"You don't understand," I whispered.

"Make me."

"I can't. You'll hate me."

"I won't *hate* you, Curt. I—"

"Don't."

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"I know."

"No, you don't."

"Stop," I sighed into the pillow and tried to get away from those hands that seemed to know my body better than I did.

"Why do *you* think I'm here?" he demanded. For a second, I faltered because he sounded almost…*indignant*. Then I took a deep breath and forced the words out.

"To fuck me," I said hoarsely, figuring any minute he'd decided that I was too fucking high-maintenance to bother with.

"I guess I deserve that. The way things have been between us. But I thought—"

"What? What, Brian? You want to take this thing we've got where it's supposed to go or not?" I hissed, unable to keep the deep, unrelenting bitterness out of my voice.

"You think this is easy for me?"

"I *think* you don't *think* at all!"

"God, Curt, you missed your calling on the stage. You're such a drama queen, always turning everything into a fucking opera."

"*I* am? You're the one who turns everything into a fucking production number. The only reason I'm even here is because Jerry Devine thought it would be *good publicity*!"

"That's—"

He couldn't deny it. He wanted to, but he couldn't. It was the truth. Whoever said the truth hurts was right on the money.

"Then allow me to get my unwanted ass out of your bed!" I shouted. I didn't care anymore if anyone could hear us. Not even Mandy. Or I should have said, *especially* Mandy.

"Why can't you *listen* for once?"

"Why can't you fucking *hear* me?"

"Because I didn't think I needed to state the obvious, Curt! I'm *in love* with you!"

I had to say one thing about Brian's timing. It always stunk. But I couldn't fault his passion. He jumped into things with both feet even if he should've looked first.

"You don't have to say that—"

"Of course I don't. But—"

"I'd let you fuck me anyway," I added, a creeping sense of numbness making its way over my body.

"Jesus, Curt. I don't want to *fuck* you. I want to…make love to you. If you'll…let me." Pause. "Please let me."

I had to smile. As lousy as I felt, I couldn't help but respond to that. Okay, so it was what I wanted to hear, and Brian was the master of telling people what they most wanted to hear. But that didn't make me invulnerable. Sometimes there was such an innocence about him that you couldn't help but be sucked into whatever lie he happened to be telling.

But this was such a pretty lie, and I wanted to believe it so bad.

I think…maybe just a little…Brian wanted to believe it himself. Cause he kissed me. He didn't have to do that. God knew I didn't expect it. I thought that kiss we shared was strictly for show, that this was when we'd really get down to what he wanted, good old-fashioned fucking.

Instead he kissed me. Not just my mouth. My forehead, my cheeks, even my fucking eyelashes. Like I was something precious. Like he really did love me.

Damn him.

I wanted to hold back some part of myself. I didn't want to get lost in him. But I was afraid I already had.

"What do you want, Curt?" he whispered against my lips. Fuck. No one ever asked me that. I wasn't sure I knew the answer till I heard the words come out of my mouth.

"You. I want you." Any way I could get him. I heard that in my head, and I wondered if I'd said it out loud.

Maybe he did hear me. He pressed his mouth to my neck and sucked till he managed to raise a fairly large welt. How did he know how much I wanted to be marked? Did I say that, too? Was he reading my mind?

Or my heart?

He took his time moving down the length of my body. He knew where I wanted to be touched, and he withheld that touch like a man hellbent on total possession…or nothing. His fingers, always so long and elegant, tickled the insides of my thighs, and I arched off the bed. "Please…"

"We have all night," he whispered with a faint smile.

That brought me back down to earth with a thud. All night. Not always. Not forever. Just a one-night stand. Like I thought. But that didn't help. I was devastated, and there was so much pain, I couldn't make a sound.

He must have felt my body tense. He looked up at me through those curiously dark eyelashes and I couldn't read his expression. I knew I was still alive. I was breathing. But that was all I knew.

"Are you okay?"

I shook my head, my breath catching in my throat.

"What is it? Curt?"

"I c-can't."

"Can't what?"

"Do this."

"Why?"

I closed my eyes. I didn't need to open them. His face was etched on the backs of my eyelids where I would see it for the rest of my life every time I went to sleep.

I said it then. I figured I owed him some kind of an explanation. Even if it wasn't the one he wanted to hear.

"I love you."

He made a little noise that could have been a snort. "I know."

I opened my eyes again. "You know?"

"Well, yeah. Do you think I spend this much time coaxing *everyone* into bed?"

"Yes."

"You're a bloody pain in the arse, Curt. Have you ever seen me waste my time on something I didn't want to do?"

"You did the press conferences for Jerry," I pointed out.

"So I did. Do you know why?"

"Cause you wanted to sell lots and lots of records and be remembered forever?" I asked sarcastically.

He continued as if I hadn't spoken. "I wanted an excuse to kiss you." He leaned closer, and I was mesmerized by the expression in his eyes. "I wanted things to be magical…"

"Let me be your magician, Curt."

He was inches away from kissing me when I whispered, "But I don't want magic."

He frowned. "Then what do you want, Curt?"

"I want this to be *real*."

Now it was his turn to back off. "I'm not real good at that, Curt."

"I know," I murmured. "But if you really loved me…you'd try."

"What if I hurt you?"

"What if I don't care?"

"Dammit, you *should* care," he snapped angrily.

"I will if you will," I dared him.

"I do," he admitted. "Do you? Do you really?" That was the first time I saw Brian actually reveal how unsure of himself he was. I must have been crazy, but that gave me hope.

"Yeah." I know I was grinning from ear to ear. I must have looked like a fucking loon. But you know what? He was, too.

"Can we make love now?"

I flipped him onto his back and kissed him, my knee not so gently nudging his dick. He wrapped his arms around me and rolled me over. I blinked and blew the hair out of my eyes. He laughed, and I thought, this is what it feels like to be in love with someone who loves you back.

He wasted no time getting straight to the point. He licked a path down the center of my body before swallowing me whole. I gasped. There was something so incredibly hot about the way he did everything. Even this. I had never had anyone's complete attention before, but I quickly decided that I could get used to it.

I struggled not to come right away, but he was relentlessly applying himself to the job. I sank my hands into his hair, marveling at the silky feel of it even as I thrust my cock into his eagerly devouring mouth. He pulled on my hips, forcing me deeper and deeper, and I resisted at first. No one wanted you to do that. Not even when they said they loved you.

But he was reading my mind again. He let my dick fall out of his mouth with a soft wet sound and licked the tip. "Come for me," he whispered, a faint half-smile playing about his lips.

That was all I needed to hear. I went over the edge with a loud groan, and much to my embarrassment, I came all over his face.

Damned if he didn't look hot swiping his tongue over the corners of his mouth.

He slid up my body and kissed me. I could taste myself on his tongue, and that thought, as impossible as it seemed, made me hard all over again. I could feel his cock rubbing against my stomach, and I realized that he hadn't come yet.

I dug my fingernails into the cheeks of his ass and the rubbing became more rhythmic. Flushed with my own power, I gently circled his hole before daring to insert a wet fingertip. He jerked in my arms and came, his hot wet skin pulsating against me like some wild thing before it finally settled into a dull throb.

I massaged his nipples with damp, quivering hands and he kissed me with such abandon that I had to believe that I'd pleased him. We made love all night and into the dawn and beyond, finally falling asleep when all our energy was spent.

The sun had been up for hours when we heard the door creak open. We were lying on our sides, facing the door, and my fingers fanned out possessively over Brian's hip.

It was her. That strange one. The one that Jerry screwed with such enthusiasm the night before. She didn't realize that we knew she was there. Brian didn't open his eyes all the way till she was gone. Then he turned inside my arms and brushed his lips against mine. "We've got to go."

"Go where? When?"

"Anywhere. Now," he said, already halfway out of bed.

"Why?"

"They'll ruin it. Get dressed. Please."

"But how? They don't even kn—"

"They'll know. She'll tell them."

"But we weren't doing any—"

"I want to take you away from here. Somewhere we can be alone. Just us. Don't you want that, too?"

"Yeah, but—"

"If you love me—"

I often wondered what Mandy thought when she read Brian's note. We weren't gone that long. But it was the first time that Brian chose me over anyone else.

I didn't know it would also be the last time.