Read You Really Got Me (Rock Star Romance #1) for Free Online

sense that she just wasn’t sexy enough.
    He’d struck her where it hurt the most. In her core—her femininity. She’d always suspected she wasn’t all that sexy. His behavior—his
words
—had only reinforced it.
    She wasn’t
hot
.
    Okay, okay.
Stop this.
She’d made her checklist, for goodness’ sake. She was
working
on it.
    She’d get in touch with her sensuality. Ignite that flame that surely glowed deep within.
You can’t be sexy if you don’t feel sexy
. And then she’d meet the right kind of guy. No more musicians. God, never again. No, a good guy. A solid guy. A guy she could
trust
. She could let herself go with someone like that.
    Coffee ready, she poured herself a cup, then looked into the fridge for creamer. Yuck. Crud caked the shelves—probably spilled milk, leaked sauces. Other than some decaying take-out boxes, she found beer bottles . . . and more beer bottles.
    Okay, she needed to talk to the guys. While she wasn’t going to become the housekeeper, she did need to eat. She wouldn’t do their laundry, but she would happily cook for them. Because she needed food. And not crap. She’d talk to them. Maybe they’d all put money in, and she’d do the shopping and cooking.
That
she could live with.
    She didn’t drink her coffee black, so she dumped it in the sink and opened the sliding glass door. The heat felt wonderful, and the air smelled fragrant, so she stripped off her T-shirt and shorts, setting them on the counter. Then, she stepped outside in her red bikini.
    On to the first challenge on her list: skinny dipping.
    Checking out the backyard—a concrete patio, a small kidney-shaped swimming pool, a tall wooden fence, and all kinds of weird foliage that looked like elephant ears towering over it—she made very sure no one could see her.
    The bathroom window looked out onto the backyard, so if Slater got up to use it, he would definitely see her. But how likely was it that he would wake up this early? Four hours after crashing?
    Come on
. She was safe. No excuses.
    She pulled the tie at the back of her neck, but the cups of her bikini remained stubbornly over her breasts. All she had to do was yank on the bow at her back, and the girls would spring free. Instead, though, she stripped off the bottoms. Okay, so, halfway there . . .
    Just do it.
She was sick of herself already. She tugged the last tie protecting her modesty, flung the bikini top aside, and dove right into the pool.
    The shock of the cold water made her eyelids snap open, and she watched the bubbles swirl around her as she pawed her way to the surface. She broke through, gasping for air.
Oh, God, that’s cold.
She clung to the wall, and her legs fluttered. Scraping the hair off her face, she watched the ripples arc across the pool.
    When her body got used to the temperature, she started to notice how the water felt as it churned around her. It rumbled between her legs, creating shock waves across her skin. Her nipples hardened, and she pushed off the wall, enjoying the rush of sensation. She kicked, doing a butterfly stroke, loving the cool water gliding across her skin.
    Oh, I like this.
    *   *   *
    Not ten minutes into the set, and Snatch’s energy electrified the club. Emmie stood in a sea of moving, shrieking bodies, her gaze fixed on Slater. Holy smokes, the man was hot. Not just his hard, sculpted body, but his whole look. He kept his thick dark hair cut short but stylish. His tight black T-shirt stretched across well-defined muscles and a broad chest, and his worn jeans hugged an extremely tight and perfectly round ass.
    But he was more than just an incredibly hot guy. He had presence. He didn’t just sing. He sang to
someone
. Well, several someones, since he shifted his attention from one girl to another, holding long enough with each to make her feel singled out.
Noticed
.
    Something about Slater just . . . riveted. That man could sing.
    She’d watched a couple of bands on Facebook earlier in the