"Then you default, fucker, if you knew he could sing," Nolan said, trying to take the money back.
I let them bicker and refocused on Jensen. He was completely into the music, not paying attention to us at all. So when he finished and saw me on my feet cheering for him, he smiled shyly. His face turned a little red when others in the bar started to chant "Encore, encore!"
Even Simone wolf-whistled.
He nodded at the DJ, who had the next tune already lined up. I didn't recognize "Rock Me Gently" but it had a very 1970s, Neil Diamond vibe to it. I wondered how Jens knew the song and remembered him talking about his parents' eclectic musical tastes. But at that point how he knew it didn't matter; I was fully under the spell of Jensen Lund's voice. The smooth style with a rock edge just . . . fit him.
I cheered louder for the second song than I had the first.
So did the crowd.
As awkward as he initially appeared, now the man looked as if he owned that stage.
He'd suckered me and his cousins big-time.
I could hardly believe he picked "Gettin' You Home" by Chris Young as his next song. How had he known it was my favorite?
Of course. Calder.
As I watched him moving side to side, giving his performance his all, the words he sang to me hit me hard. The longing in that sexy growl promising the ultimate sexual satisfaction. I nearly had a mini-O right there, with Jensen's mesmerizing eyes staring into mine as if I were the only woman in the room. Heck, as if I were the only woman in the world.
After he finished the song, he took a half-assed bow and started toward the table. Slowly. Never taking his eyes off mine.
I couldn't wait for him to act on that wicked, sexy, dirty aura vibrating off him.
When Jensen reached us, Ash said, "Quite a performance there, cuz."
"Thanks." Still keeping his gaze locked onto me, he dug his hand into his front pocket, pulled out some folded bills and tossed them on the table. "Great hanging out with you guys, but we've gotta go."
I didn't question him-neither did his cousins. He held out his hand to me and I took it.
Then we were booking it out of the bar at breakneck speed.
Once we reached his car, Jensen slowed down. He turned and gifted me with a sweet kiss. A brush of lips, a soft flick of his tongue. Not the openmouthed hunger he'd shown me in the bar.
"Rowan," he murmured against the corner of my mouth. "Need you naked in my bed. All night."
"You can have me naked on the couch, against the wall and in the kitchen too."
He devoured me.
Hands on my ass. The lower half of his body grinding against mine in the way that broadcast he'd rock my world when we were finally skin to skin.
When we paused to catch our breath, he said, "Let's go before I lose what little willpower I have left and get even more reckless."
I'd forgotten I was playing grab-ass in public with The Rocket and it'd be newsworthy if the press caught us lip-locked and dry-humping in the parking lot of a dive bar. He'd already dodged one bullet tonight. "Sorry."
He tipped my head back to stare into my eyes. "What?"
"I forgot." I ran my fingers down that infamous chiseled jawline. "In the weeks we've spent together I've forgotten you're this super athlete with celebrity status and a major media presence. Now I think of you as just a normal guy who lives across the hall from me." I think of you as mine.
"Saying sweet shit like that will get you fucked right where you stand."
I blinked at him. "You're not mad?"
"I'm relieved." He moved his lips to my ear and whispered, "Get. In."
On the car ride home, Jensen's hand rested on my thigh when it wasn't on the stick shift. Every time I took a breath inside the tightly enclosed space, the scent of his cologne filled my lungs. At every stoplight he curled his hand around the side of my face, bringing my mouth to his for another hot and hungry kiss.
At every stoplight.
Jensen didn't talk. In another circumstance I might've been worried I'd said or done something wrong. But his silence indicated he was as focused on what came next as I was.
The complex gate came into view. Jensen paused long enough for the digital reader to register the bar code in his window, and the gate opened.
Immediately after he helped me out of the car, he framed my face in his hands. He wore the oddest look.
"What?"
"Have you changed your mind about tonight?"
"No. Why? Have you?"
"No." He traced my bottom lip with his thumb. "We've lost some momentum."
"How do you plan to get it back?"
"I'm more of a ‘show' guy than a ‘tell' guy."