Blackthorne: Heart of Fame, Book 8 Read Online Free PDF

Iron Man shirt of hers up her ribcage with the other, seeking breasts he knew would be full and round and glorious in his hands.
    His cock throbbed, thoroughly okay with that scenario.
    A few more interruptions of his search, a few more gropey fans and a few more denials of who he was later, he saw her. She was standing by the DJ’s station, arms crossed over her amazing breasts, jaw set, gaze taking in everything around her.
    “Booyah,” he murmured, echoing his bass player’s exclamation for when things were going exactly as they should.
    He weaved his way through the crowd, doing his best not to limp, coming at her from the side. He didn’t want to risk scaring her off before he had a chance to make his first move. If he didn’t count showing her up outside with the phone call to her uncle as his first move. It hadn’t exactly been a move, but it had been lots of fun.
    Drawing to a halt on her right, he lowered his head to hers and brushed his lips against her ears. “Hey.”
    She let out a yelp, spun to face him and punched something hard up into his solar plexus.
    “Fuck!” he choked out, staggering back a step. Pain lanced through his body. His breath squeezed from him in a wheezy gasp. Whoa, she’d hit him.
    “What the hell are you doing?” Incredulous anger shone in her eyes. Visible tension claimed her shoulders.
    Josh pressed his palm to his chest and gave the point of unexpectedly violent contact a rub. “Trying to get your attention?” Damn, he could hardly breathe. “What did you hit me with? A sledgehammer?”
    She narrowed her stare at him. “Yeah, I keep a sledgehammer on me at all times in case arrogant rock stars try to hit on me.”
    He let out a wheezy chuckle, rubbing at his solar plexus again. “Damn, you’re a prickly one, aren’t you? And who says I’m trying to hit on you? Can’t a guy just say hello? Given that he knows your uncle?”
    Uncertainty flickered over her face. Cautious doubt swam in her eyes. Her eyebrows, straight and dark and oh, so serious, dipped. The tension in her body remained. A tickle of intrigue stirred in Josh’s gut. In all the photos he’d seen of her in her uncle’s LA home, she’d been laughing and smiling. There’d been a cheeky mischief about her. A relaxed playfulness. Where was that Caitlin?
    She caught her bottom lip with her teeth for a second before frowning deeper. “You weren’t trying to hit on me?”
    “Actually, I was,” he answered with a smirk, determined to make her laugh. He’d spent more than one extended length of time in the shower thinking of her laughing image in those photos, his hand taking care of the steel in his groin as he did so. “But I was going to do it with charm and subtle grace.”
    Flinty anger fell over her face again and she turned away from him, showing him her profile. Not her laughing profile or her smiling profile. Her disdainful profile. Crossing her arms over her chest, she studied the writhing, dancing, drinking people crammed on the dance floor. “I’m not interested. So you can stop right now.”
    “Can’t I just buy you a drink?” he asked, risking physical injury again by leaning a little closer to her.
    She shook her head, her gaze fixed on the crowded dance floor. “No.”
    Josh narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t used to a woman saying no to him. They rarely did nowadays, not counting his mother and his kid sister that was. Chloe said no to him often, usually when he told her on the phone he had to end their conversations. Telling a five-and-a-half-year-old who loved him beyond measure he had to hang up always resulted with a stubborn, adamant no before she continued their conversation as if he hadn’t dared try to bring it to an end. Chloe was allowed to say no to him, however. Josh loved her for doing so.
    Caitlin Reynolds saying no to him now, even though she knew who he was, was…an interesting experience. And a stimulating one. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was