"Tell me exactly what you want."

I turned my head and met his eyes. The dark intensity sent shivers coursing through me.

"I want you to ruin me."

With a single thrust he stabbed himself into me. I choked back a shout as my folds parted around him, my insides fluttering and struggling to accept him. No matter how many times he fucked me, each and every time I forgot how big he was. He would shove himself inside me and I'd remember the delicious fullness, the sweet ache of being stretched to my limits.

Arching my back, I rocked my hips against his, wanting him to move. Noah complied with my unspoken desire, snapping his hips forward and pushing himself further inside me, burying himself deep like he said he would. Small cries and whimpers left my mouth as he did it again and again, pulling out then pushing in, penetrating me deeper each time, making me take all of him.

My mouth hung open, trying to take in gasps of air. My arms scrambled at the rough wall in an effort to keep my balance. My hair flew everywhere as my head tossed back and forth in ecstasy.

His fingers dug into my hips, bruising my skin just as thoroughly as he bruised my lips. His shifted his hips and found a perfect spot inside me, making my eyes fly wide open, making me cry out. He continued pounding me, hitting the spot over and over with long, hard strokes meant to drive me crazy. Meant to ruin me.

I pulsed and throbbed around him, close to the edge. Noah twitched and flexed inside me. He was close, too. He brought a hand to the apex of my thighs and played with my clit. My nails scratched against the wall as my whole body shook.

My climax hit me with lightning speed, taking my breath away. I choked and sobbed with the pleasure of it, bucking my hips, wanting him to keep going, to fuck me through it.

Noah didn't let up, doing exactly what I wanted, continuing his thrusts even as I felt his cock harden and twitch, spilling himself inside of me with a stifled groan.

I panted and shook, gasping for air until slowly the trembling of my body ceased. My limbs went weak. Noah wrapped his arms around me, holding me close, keeping me upright. I straightened my back, leaning against his chest. He let out a hiss as he fell out of me.

"Holy shit," I moaned softly.

"Nothing holy about it." Noah's voice was wicked. "That was pure sin."

I turned in Noah's arms, clutching his shoulders and pressing my forehead to his chest. "I'm fine with being a sinner if it means you keep doing that."

"You mean, fucking you in public?"

My head shot up, eyes darting around. "Oh god."

"Did you forget where we were?"

"For a second, yeah." I groaned in embarrassment. "I bet everyone out there knows what we were doing."

"They've heard worse. They've seen worse."

My heart clenched. "You do this often?"

"Are you asking if I regularly bring girls to this pub and fuck them in the backroom while everyone listens?"

I stayed quiet.

"No. You're the only one." I felt Noah press a kiss to my hair. "I don't often lose control like this."

Relief blossomed through me. I knew a man like Noah Hart had his share of women. I just didn't like thinking I was only one in a long line of them.

"Is there another way out of here?" I asked tentatively. "I don't know if I want to do a walk of shame through the bar."

"We can sneak out the back entrance. I don't want to get shit from Jessie either."

Noah found some spare napkins to clean up and tucked himself back into his pants. He reached out to take my hand then paused, a wild look on his face.

"You got any paper?"

"Paper?"

"Or whatever. Something to write on." Noah tore through the back room, upending boxes and tossing them around. "I need to write down some music."

"You're really going to do that here? Now?"

Noah grabbed a random pen and began scribbling on a napkin. He murmured to himself, humming indistinctly.

I used the rest of the napkins to clean myself up, righting my dress and putting my panties back on. I watched as he wrote down line after line of music notes.

I should have known better than to hope for cuddles or sweet talk. This was about par for what I could expect from Noah.

"So coming to a dive bar did help you find inspiration after all," I drawled.

Noah grunted, not answering.

I tried to keep the disappointment from welling up in my chest. I sat down on a discarded chair, waiting for the man who used my body as his muse to finish composing his latest masterpiece.

After a few minutes Noah looked up to find me still sitting there. He looked down at his napkins for a moment before shoving them into his pocket. He came over to me and took my hand, pressing a soft kiss on my inner wrist.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I get kind of carried away."

"It's fine. Your music is important."

"You're important, too."

My heart gave a little flutter. "And you said you didn't do romance."

He frowned, looking uncomfortable. "You're an important part of my process. For composing, I mean."

"Sure. Of course. Your process."

I couldn't help but smile inwardly. That emotional barrier of his was slowly crumbling, piece by piece. Maybe soon they'd be low enough for me to peek over those guarded walls.

Chapter Eleven.

"Come out to Club Harmony with me tonight."

I paused in the middle of making a note on paper and turned to Noah slowly, my pencil still hovering in the air. "Like... a date?"

"Some rich celebutant paid ungodly sums of money to have Darkest Days perform at her twenty-first birthday. I want you to come and watch. Kickstart some ideas."

"Right." Of course it wouldn't be a date. It was all business with Noah. At least, it was all business until he had his tongue in my mouth - and other places.

Even then, that was a sort of business to him, in a way.

"I need to be there early for set up and sound check," Noah continued. "You don't have to show up until later."

"So we're not really going together."

"The band's gonna party afterward." He flicked his eyes to me quickly, then looked away. "You could stay and party with us."

A feeling almost like hope rose in my chest. Maybe he did want to spend time with me without there being a work reason.

"Bring some friends. Hot ones," he added. "I need girls there to distract Cameron or he'll give me shit all night."

I let out a laugh of disbelief. "You want me to bring my hot friends so your bandmates can hit on them?"

"You've got hot friends, right?"

"I can't believe you."

"Didn't you say you had two roommates?"

"They're both taken."

"Cameron won't mind."

"Their boyfriends will."

Noah pushed away from the keyboard. "Just be there at ten. I'll make sure you're on the guest list." He made his way over to the front door, scooping up his wallet and shoving it into his pants pocket.

"You're leaving now?"

He shrugged into his leather jacket. "I need time to de-stress before performing."

"Because being with me is so stressful."

"...got no fucking clue," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." He shot me one last careful look. "You can stay and work as long as you need. I'll see you tonight."

He shut the door behind him. I turned back to the piano, staring down blankly at the keys.

Being around Noah twisted me up into knots. There had been certain points during the last few weeks when I'd almost come to believe he might actually like me. Not just tolerate my presence, but actively enjoy it.

Then he'd walk out like I meant nothing and I'd remember that Noah didn't care about me at all. I was just a means to an end for him. At that thought the roiling in my stomach intensified, those knots becoming a tangled mess.

Was he only having sex with me because he needed to, as part of his "process?" I didn't know if he actually liked me or if he would sleep with any hot girl as long as they served as inspiration.

Was I having sex with Noah Hart because I wanted to feel close to him, because I felt like there might be a deeper connection between us? Or maybe I using my body to get ahead in my career, using all the tools at my disposal to help my client with his work.

All those thoughts ran through my head constantly. I had to stop doing this to myself.

I took the time to go home and change into more club-appropriate clothing, a tight black skirt with a shimmery blue halter top. I wondered if I shouldn't wear a Darkest Days band t-shirt, but that would probably be too fangirl of me. I could imagine the disgust on Noah's face if I showed up wearing one. The thought was funny enough to tempt me, but my outfit made me feel sexy, and I needed some of that.

As pathetic as it was, I needed to feel like I, Jennifer Young, was desirable in my own right, and not just because I happened to be the only "consultant" Noah Hart could stand to be around.

When I arrived at the club, I was let in by the bouncer immediately. I had half-wondered if Noah would forget to tell them my name and I'd be left out in the cold.

It seemed like the party had been in full swing for hours. I'd shown up just in time to catch the performance. Since I didn't know anyone else and didn't bring my friends as ordered. I made my way to the front of the stage and planted myself there with a drink in my hand.

I only had to wait a few minutes before people started crowding beside and behind me. The air in the room crackled with anticipation. Squeals and cheers and shouts gave way to a wave of chanting as the crowd began yelling for Darkest Days.

The lights in the room dimmed, sending the crowd into a frenzy. Five shadowy figures made their way on stage. My breath caught in my throat. My heartbeat pounded wildly in my chest. No matter how many times I'd seen them perform, my body always responded with that familiar kick of adrenaline. Even working closely with a member of the band hadn't diminished the effect.

Cymbals crashed and lights exploded, illuminating the stage as music blasted from the speakers. As my eyes adjusted to the blinding light, I had a brief moment to ponder that Noah hadn't even said a word of greeting or congratulations to the birthday girl before starting. Typical.

Then my vision cleared and I found myself staring up at Noah Fucking Hart, Rock Star God. His leather jacket hung open, revealing a tight t-shirt clinging to every peak and valley of his abs. The tattoos of his upper chest were visible above the shirt's collar. Messy dark hair fell over his forehead, highlighting his angular cheekbones. His dark eyes were heated. My inner muscles quivered.

As Noah sang, all sense flew from my mind. I was trapped, ensnared by the inhuman talent this man possessed. It wasn't only the way he sang, or the sound of his voice. It was the words themselves, like he was digging deep inside me, exposing my soul and flinging it outward for the world to see.

Noah's gaze roved over the crowd slowly, as if making eye contact with each and every person. As if he were singing to them and them alone. Although he played it cool in person, the limelight ignited a fervor inside him. He scanned the front. He laid eyes on me. He paused, eyes flashing with heat, narrowing with a dark desire. A full body flush ran through me, centering between my legs.

Concerts were always emotional for me, especially Darkest Days concerts, but I'd never experienced this before. I felt gutted, drained, and laid bare. The band was only three songs in and I was ready to weep.

Our eyes were locked, him on stage and me in the audience, as if we were the only two people in the room. In the world. His words washed over me, words of love and devotion, words of anger and despair. It was as if I was feeling every emotion humans were capable of, all at once.

His flicked his eyes away and I was let go from the spell. I found myself breathless, gasping for air. The club was stifling hot. Bodies pressed me from every side. I had to get out.

I elbowed my way through the crowd until I found myself free. I took a moment to gather myself and made my wobbly way up to the second floor, where there were fewer people and more seating. I slumped down in a plush armchair with a view of the stage.

I couldn't do this.

Watching that band perform, watching that man perform, reminded me of all the insecurities I'd had the first moment when I'd been offered this job.

Noah's songs made me feel something almost otherworldly. His talent was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. Watching him was as enlightening as it was enrapturing.

I knew in that instant I could never create something so brilliant as to match the talent of Noah Fucking Hart.