Authors: Lynne Connolly
Did he do this with everyone? Every groupie at every gig,
every fangirl who wanted his signature?
She decided she couldn’t care less. Not right now, because
he had
her
in his arms, and he was giving her the kiss of a lifetime.
She snuggled closer, rubbing her breasts against his chest. He groaned into her
mouth, then deepened the kiss for a fraction of a second before drawing away,
leaving her wanting more.
Jesus, she couldn’t deny it. The thought of a quick
against-the-wall fuck with a rock star turned her on. It always had. When she
masturbated, it was to that fantasy. So now she had her chance to do it with a
real-life rock star. The erection pressing against her told her he was ready,
and fuck, was she ever ready. Who would know? Nobody else.
Allie tried to pull herself together, but she’d never felt
more like melting. “Are you always this fast?”
He stroked a strand of hair off her forehead in a tender
gesture that took her by surprise. After the passion of a moment before, she
thought they’d bypassed tender. She’d settle for raunchy from this guy any day
of the week. “No,” he said. “But you looked so lost at the bar, and then you
stared at me as if you knew me. I wanted to know you better.
Do
you know
me?” His gaze turned intent and she knew why.
“I do now,” she replied, avoiding telling him the truth, or
all of it at any rate. Her fantasy involved her being nameless and him being—him,
but if she told him, he’d back off. Murder City Ravens wasn’t a fuck-’em-all
rock band, they were sensitive, created angsty, aching music as well as the
cocks-out kind.
He smiled down at her. He must have been a foot taller than
she was. That might create problems in the shower. Wait—who said they’d get
anywhere near a shower?
Just who did she think she was kidding? Instant, one-night
stand, pushover, she didn’t give a fuck. She’d be all of those if she could
have this man tonight. Get that fantasy nailed, so to speak. Although she’d be
the one getting nailed.
Before her stood the chance of a lifetime. Her job here
didn’t start until tomorrow and Nancy had promised not to tell anyone if her
roomie didn’t appear until the morning. Would Allie respect herself in the
morning?
Hell, yeah.
“It’s up to you, Allie,” he said. “If you want to take this
further, come up to my room. God knows I want it.” He moved gently against her,
enough to make her aware of the hard length of his erection pressing against
her belly. “You are gorgeous and sexy and very kissable.” To prove it, he
kissed her again, long, slow and luscious, as if they had all the time in the
world instead of just one night. “Come upstairs,” he murmured against her lips.
“I won’t force you to do anything and I do want to talk to you, get to know
you. But that’s not all I want to do.”
“Yes,” she said, in a breath that was hardly a whisper.
“I’ll come.”
Would she ever.
* * * * *
He’d booked a suite. A living room, bedroom and bathroom
with a kitchenette off the living room. Not disgustingly luxurious, like a
penthouse suite, but far better than her room, which up until now she’d thought
large and comfortable.
She had to say something. “Wow, you’re a star of the show?”
He turned to face her, suspicion closing the expression on
his face. “What do you mean?”
“The big authors and the organizers of the con have suites.
The rest of us have rooms.”
He shrugged. “I like to be comfortable and they had a suite
available. That’s all.”
Yeah, she’d bet. Life on the road was a real drag, sleeping
in the back of vans and traveling all night. Allie shook her head disgustedly.
He could have whatever he wanted. He’d earned it, for sure. Her nervousness was
trying to find excuses for her to leave, her conscience screaming at her,
Get
out, get out!
Allie decided to ignore the spiteful bitch.
Unable to stay away a millisecond longer, she moved toward
him. “I don’t do things like this.” Not for real. But at the thought, liquid
soaked her panties.
“Like what?” He reached out, drew her to him and as she
looked up into his face, dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We’ll only go
as far as you want to.” He smiled. “I aim to persuade you to do everything. All
of it. But I won’t force you.” The smile turned wicked. “Unless you want it.”
“Only one night,” she said.
He lost the smile. “I don’t do meaningless one-night stands.
Not these days. Gave them up a while back.”
She wondered at that. Rock stars defined one-night stands,
so if he wanted a sex life, how could he avoid it? In any case, her fantasy
didn’t involve more than that. Not that she could tell him. “My client arrives
tomorrow.”
His caressing hand stilled. “What kind of client?”
She stared up at him and her heart quickened when she
understood what he thought. Client, hotel, duh. “I’m an Assistant Editor with
Casterbridge. A new author is arriving tomorrow and it’s my job to look after
him. He’s nervous because he’s hit big with his first book, so I’m babysitting
him.”
A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. It made him look
sexily mischievous. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” His apology and her acceptance, so easily
done, as if they knew each other well. A guilty pang hit her when she recalled
that she knew more about him and he didn’t know that. He thought she hadn’t
recognized him. It wasn’t as if Murder City Ravens was a teenage sensation kind
of band, on every reality singing show around, but they’d still received a lot
of exposure. If she didn’t watch talk shows or watch video channels, she
supposed she could have missed it. Or she might have heard of the band but not
know them by sight.
Should she tell him? It might be best. Before she did, he
went first. “I guess I jumped to conclusions. Can we be just this, Donovan and
Allie? Nothing else for now?”
She swallowed her confession back because she wanted him
more than she wanted the truth right now. “Okay. Just us.”
“I like that.” He lowered his head to kiss her. She met him
halfway, going on tiptoe and holding on to his shoulders.
He took possession. No hesitation, no doubts, he took her
and, with a single-mindedness that matched his, she followed him into the
abyss.
She had no idea how long they kissed, but it was so
delicious, she didn’t know if she even wanted to move on. Ideally, they’d kiss
for a week, then caress each other for another, and ease into lovemaking, but
they had no time for that. They only had one night. Already she was going
beyond her own personal fantasy and thinking of two, if her author decided to
give her a break and get an early night and Donovan wasn’t busy. Too many ifs
to rely on that happening. All she could guarantee was now.
He broke the kiss and stared at her with a wonder that
mirrored her own. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” She fought to regain her breath, and then he took it
away again.
“Bedroom?”
She nodded. He took her hand and led her to the other room.
If she’d known where it was, she’d have done the leading, but once there he
didn’t stop until they reached the wide, inviting bed. Its cover was the same
color as the one in her room, a dusty gray, but the fabric looked better and
the bed much larger. Not that she cared overmuch. Against the door, on the
floor—as long as they fucked, and soon. She tugged at his T-shirt. He brushed
her hands away and ripped it over his head.
Oh shit, he was perfect. Smooth muscle responded to his
movements, his skin lightly tanned, and he had a small tattoo on his left
shoulder. She didn’t have to stare at it to know it was an eagle in flight. He
had a bracelet on his upper left arm, barbed wire in black, which was
emphasized when he played wearing short sleeves. He rarely went topless on
stage, but Allie wasn’t too proud to admit that she lived for those few times.
She even had some shots on her computer, shaky videos captured by fans and one
memorable studio photo, when the whole band went topless. The only one she knew
about, and she’d searched thoroughly.
Now she had all that deliciousness to herself. Without
stopping to rationalize, she leaned into him and licked the eagle. It tasted
wonderful.
Donovan stepped back. “Hey, that tickles. How about it being
your turn? You can lick George all you want later.”
The promise gave her thrills. She paused. “George?”
He gave a self-conscious laugh. “Yes, how about that? My
sister claimed it had to have a name, so I called it George. Out of the blue.”
“I think George is a perfectly wonderful name.”
He gestured to her, flapping one hand. “Off.”
Swallowing, she obeyed, unbuttoning her silk top in record
time, then stripping it down her arms and letting it fall.
A half-smile curved one corner of his mouth. “Very nice. But
you’re still behind me.”
He was topless, she wasn’t. Her mouth went dry as familiar
anxiety clawed at her. She’d never felt fully happy with her body, especially
since sharing the room with Nancy, who’d kindly suggested a surgeon last night.
B-cup breasts didn’t cut it with men these days, apparently.
When she removed her bra, she realized Nancy had got it
wrong, with this man anyway. His gaze fixed on her nipples, already hardening
without any stimulation other than his greedy gaze.
He didn’t touch her, as she expected. Instead, he kept his
attention on her while he unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and shoved them down
his legs, peeling off his underwear and socks, kicking off his shoes before
removing them.
Completely, utterly buck-naked. So beautiful. Legs that
powered his stage performances now planted firmly apart, toes gripping the soft
carpet while he raised a brow and stared at her. “You’re dawdling.”
Not for long. She wore black tailored pants, obedient to the
smart-casual dictate of her boss, but she lost them now, as fast as he’d lost
his, and without giving herself a chance to chicken out.
They joined his clothes on the floor. His smile broadened.
“Better. Much better.” He took the step that separated them, his warmth searing
her as he took her into his arms and hauled her close. At the same time, he
lowered his head to join their mouths in another of those soul-destroying
kisses. She didn’t know how she would stand it, but sure as fuck she would.
He lifted his head, smiled down at her. “Damn, that’s good.”
After turning her, he reached behind him to the bed and swept the covers aside,
revealing crisp white sheets, and then tugged her so she lost her balance and
tumbled over him as they both went down.
His firm body cushioned her, his arms supporting her,
tightening around her as they fell, laughing. Her hair fell over her face but
he released her to sweep his big hand over her, tucking her hair behind her
ears and then cupping the back of her head so he could bring her close for his
kiss. He tasted her, taking his time in that way she already enjoyed so much.
Sweet and sure, his kiss told her how much he wanted her and she gave that
desire back to him.
His hard cock pressed between them and when she moved she
felt the trail of dampness on her stomach. “You feel marvelous,” he murmured
against her mouth. “Like a Sunday treat.”
Nobody had called her “marvelous” before. Allie thrilled to
his words, arching her body into his, trying to come into contact with every
inch of him. He chuckled and rubbed his muscles against her. “That’s how I feel
too. I want it all and I want it now.”
“So what are we waiting for?”
“We’re savoring each other and enjoying the moment. Don’t
think about what’s coming next or what’s been. Just enjoy now.”
She liked that. “Is that your philosophy of life?”
“Pretty much.” His eyes clouded almost imperceptibly.
“Sometimes it doesn’t work, but most times it does.”
“I’m all for that.” She chuckled, sending reverberations
through them both. “And if it doesn’t work, I can blame you.”
“Blame me all you like.”
Without warning, he rolled, taking her with him so that she
was now on the bottom. He reached out a long arm and found the bedside table,
grabbing a packet. She’d noticed the orange wrapped squares on the nightstand
somewhere between upright and flat, and felt nothing but gladness that he’d
come to the conference prepared.
The nightstand contained a jumble of books, papers, receipts
and the condoms, no real order to any of it. “You always carry that many around
with you?”
“I just buy them when I think of them.” He followed her gaze
and chuckled. “There are quite a few. What do you say we go for the record?”
“I have to be up in the morning,” she reminded him.
“How about just up?” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Remember,
think for the moment. If this feels right, then we should do it without
regrets.”
“Will you stop fucking philosophizing?”
Conversation stopped when she reached down and folded her
fingers around his cock.
He groaned low in his throat, almost musical, and retaliated
by bending to take her nipple in his mouth.
He sucked hard, then released it to the cooler air, forcing
sensitivity to increase, making her gasp in shock. Her fingers stilled in their
exploration and her mind froze. He kissed around her nipple, then touched the
tip of his tongue to one peak. She felt that soft touch in every part of her
body. He lapped and tickled, making her nipple more responsive than she’d
imagined it could be, until she recalled where she had her hand.
The tip of his cock was wet, his body preparing for her by
providing copious natural lubricant. She spread it around the silky skin with
her thumb, exploring him, then traced the ridge under the cap, nicely indented,
ready for her tongue, if she could get there. He was bigger and he was proving
it, holding her bracketed between his arms while he enjoyed her body.
She enjoyed him enjoying her. He was right—now was all that
mattered. If he appeared in the bar tomorrow, telling everyone that he had
fucked her, she could retaliate. She knew who he was. But deep down, she
trusted him. He wouldn’t tell. In her fantasies, her hot rock star told
everyone and offered her to everyone, but she knew the difference between
fantasy and reality. Reality was turning out a whole lot better.