Rocked Parts 1-4 Box Set: A New Adult Rockstar Romance (Billionaire's Obsession Book 124) (14 page)

BOOK: Rocked Parts 1-4 Box Set: A New Adult Rockstar Romance (Billionaire's Obsession Book 124)
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Chapter Twelve

Johnny

 

“We’re going to find some coffee,” I told Kevin, cutting him off before I ended up making a scene.

I stood up with Amanda and placed a hand around her shoulder as we walked to the food and drinks at other end of the lounge.

“Don’t let him upset you,” I told her.

I fixed us our coffees, and she grabbed a couple of muffins from a basket on the end of the counter.

“He’s pissed,” she finally said.

“Isn’t he always?” I mumbled.

We stayed in that section of the lounge, and Amanda settled into the seat next to me. I handed her one of the coffee cups before taking a gulp of my own.

“I guess.” She sipped on her drink, and then looked up at me. “You two are nothing alike.”

“Cheers to that.”

“You’ve been the one person in my corner for this gig. And I…I just want to say thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” I said, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ears. “I wish you were walking into a different set of circumstances.”

“You probably wouldn’t need a bodyguard and FBI protection under most circumstances.”

“True.”

She took another sip and licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. I couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by her sultry lips. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and reminded myself it wasn’t the time or the place.

“I don’t know how you do this,” she said after another couple of minutes.

“Do what? Deal with Kevin? It gets easier after a while. No, I take that back. He’s a pain in the ass and that’s never going to change.”

Amanda smiled. Seeing her relax was a ray of light in what had turned into a dark, hopeless-feeling day. “That’s not what I meant. How do you tolerate all these people telling you what to do and how to act? Those magazine staff would have had us half-naked and rolling around on a bed if you hadn’t said no. And then the never-ending questions from Lanna. That was intense.”

“It’s the business. This is how it’s always been.”

She stopped speaking and shook her head slightly. “I don’t know how you deal with it. It seems like such an invasion of privacy. Doesn’t it drive you crazy? I don’t think I could bear it over the long run.”

“I’m used to it.” I paused. Her assessment stuck with me. Everything she described was part of my everyday life. And I wanted her to be part of it. She would be forced to deal with the pitfalls of fame too, at least on some level. “Didn’t you have that too, though?” I asked. “I mean, when you were fighting, you had to do photo shoots and interviews, right?” I played it off like I hadn’t seen her photos or read her magazine interviews a hundred times.

“Yes, I did. But it wasn’t about my personal life. It was about my conditioning, what kind of protein powder I was using, what I did to prepare for a prizefight, how mentally prepared I was about my next fight.” She paused, staring off into space for a moment. “No one asked about my boyfriends or love life. And even after all that coverage after my last fight, the media never seemed this intrusive.”

“Well, you did great today,” I said.

Her eyes flicked back to meet mine. She scoffed. “I was awful! A mannequin would have made a more convincing girlfriend in those pictures.”

I laughed at the mental image. “I’m glad it was you. You’re much more responsive to the touch.” I stretched an arm over her shoulder and kissed her cheek. I whispered in her ear, “Can you feel those pretend sparks flying? I never get them with mannequins.”

“Johnny, I think—” she started to speak.

“Stop thinking. Stop fighting it,” I whispered, cutting her off. “I want us to make the most of the hand you and I were dealt. I want you right now, Amanda.”

She let out a long breath. She quickly stood up, said she needed to use the restroom and promised to come right back. The two FBI agents were in sight on the other side of the lounge, so I sat back and waited for her. I looked up a few minutes later. I made her out halfway down the lounge, peering from around a corner, signaling with her index finger for me to go to her. I followed along. She kept a distance ahead of me and disappeared into a family restroom—one of those lockable single bathrooms with the pop-down diaper changing stations. I smiled broadly. I liked where this was going. She knew how to mix things up, that was for sure.

“Get in here,” she said as I stood outside the door.

I slipped inside and she quickly locked the door behind me.

“You’re something else, Amanda. I like the way you think.”

“No. Not really,” she answered seductively. She looked up at me and reached her hands up around my neck. “You’re the one who said you wanted me right now.”

“I do.” I wrapped my arms around her waist and reached one hand down to caress her ass.

“I thought about it. Maybe you’re right,” she said. “I should make the most of…of this. And to be honest, I need a bit of a release.”

“Mmmm. I’m game for whatever you want.”

She pulled from me and stepped back. Without breaking from her sultry gaze, she slowly lifted up the hem of her dress, sliding it up her thighs until it revealed her silky panties. When it bundled at her waist, she turned away from me, facing the far wall. She pressed her hands against it, and turned only her head to look back at me.

“Fuck me from behind, Johnny,” she said, biting down on her lip. “Make me come.”

“Christ,” I murmured, rushing up behind her.

I shifted her hair to the side and leaned down to kiss and nibble her neck. She moaned. I was rock hard. I reached around and placed both hands on her breasts, grinding my bulge on her almost bare ass. She pressed her ass back on my groin, begging me to come inside her. I moved a hand over her stomach, past her mound, and down inside her panties.

“I want you so bad, baby,” she groaned, tilting her hips and grinding on me.

She reached a hand between us, and then turned to face me. She fumbled with my belt, and almost ripped it out of a loop when it gave way.

“Oops,” she said, giggling.

I groaned with need as she undid the zipper, and peeled my pants and boxers down my legs. I helped her to stand up again and turned her back to face the wall.

“How much do you want this,” I groaned, slowly pulling her panties down to her knees.

“A lot, baby. God, so fucking bad,” she said.

I grabbed her hips, and pressed up against her. She tilted her hips as I positioned myself, and slid inside her slowly.

“Fuck. You’re so tight and wet, Amanda” I moaned, easing my cock deeper inside.

She bent lower against the wall, pushing back against my hardness.

“Give it to me hard, Johnny. Fuck me and make me come.”

I kept one hand on her hips and reached the other one around to her mound again. As I drove deep insider her, I matched our rhythm and pressed a finger to her clit. She groaned and writhed on my cock. I sped up the pace, and buried myself deeply inside her tight, wet pussy.

“Oh God. I’m coming, baby,” she cried. “Come with me.”

She moaned and panted, popping up on her tiptoes and bucking her hips back as she began to go over the edge. I caught a glance of us in the mirror. That image drove me to my point of no return. I gripped her ass tightly and pumped hard and fast until she groaned through her orgasm. Her channel clenched around my shaft, and I exploded my release deep inside her as she fluttered and flexed through her climax.

We stood there, panting heavily to catch our breath.

“How do you feel now?” I asked.

“Better.” She moved off me slowly, and grabbed some paper towels for me. “Here.” She pulled another handful and stood at the sink to neaten herself up.

“Just better?” I asked, looking at her as I cleaned up a bit.

“A lot better,” she said. “You’re good. You know what does it for me. And I really needed that. What about you?”

“I enjoy you,” I told her, keeping the rest to myself.

She pulled up her panties and fixed her dress, then looked in the mirror to check her hair. “Good. Let’s go. They’re probably looking for us. You go on out first. I’ll come in a minute.”

She winked at me and smiled. I could have taken her all over again with just that look, but thought against it. I stepped out of the restroom and went to sit in a free row of chairs. She joined me shortly afterward, and I put my arm over her shoulder again.

“Ama—Rachel, Johnny. Time to go,” Kevin called out a few minutes later. He cringed when he realized he had started to say Amanda’s real name.

“Come along, my love,” I said.

I stood up and reached a hand out for her to take. She looked up me with a seductive expression on her face before she did. At the touch of her hand slipping it into mine, my racing heart told another story.

 

Chapter Thirteen

Amanda

 

Kevin, Johnny and I were the last to board the private plane. The opulence took my breath away.

“Wow,” I said, taking the first few steps down the wide center aisle.

Kevin had gone ahead of me. He found a seat near Fred and Larry, close to the middle of the plane.

Johnny stood behind me, and rested his hands on my hips. “Yeah. What you did in that restroom was…wow. It was amazing,” he whispered.

I smiled. “Glad you enjoyed it too, but I was talking about how nice this is.”

He released me when I stopped at a free seat near the front. I instantly missed the warmth of his touch, but that was not something I planned to share with him. He placed his hand on the seat beside mine, and I turned to smile at him. We had an audience here. There had to be a happy middle-of-the-road way to be for us to both be comfortable. I just had not found it yet.

I looked around the plane before sitting. There were three sections. It started with the usual seating for takeoff and landings. Halfway down, there were four plush sofas in an L-shape formation, and after what may have been a restroom on one side, it looked like there was a full kitchen at the back. With all the space, there would be no snack cart jamming anyone’s elbow. This long trip would be a breeze, even with a short refueling stop at JFK Airport in New York.

“Don’t you wish there was a bedroom in the back?” Johnny growled into my ear.

I slapped his arm playfully, and laid my head on the head rest. Now that the drama of the day had passed and we were ready to kick off the trip, I started to relax. We were on a private plane, but it was very much like a normal flight. The flight attendants came on, introduced themselves, gave a safety demonstration, and did their pre-flight preparations.

Johnny started unwrapping one of the muffins he had me put in my bag when we were in the lounge. He extended the other one to me, and I took it gratefully. I was starving. Before we took off, I looked over and saw him gripping the armrests of his chair.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m cool. The muffin might have been a bad idea,” he winced, turning to me.

“You don’t look too good,” I said.

“I’ll be okay in a minute.”

“Just don’t throw up on me,” I joked.

“I won’t. It’s not that bad.” He winced. “Although, that would be a whole other way to get you naked.”

“Ugh,” I said, laughing. “Not a good way at all.”

Shortly after takeoff, Johnny seemed better.

He undid his seatbelt and stood up. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

“Sure.”

Johnny and I nodded politely as we walked back past the men, all the way to the kitchen. The agents nodded back. Kevin sat across the aisle from them, looking out his window. He didn’t notice us. We got to the large kitchen—large for a plane, anyway—and I looked around.

“This is nice,” I told him. “No bedroom, I’m guessing.”

“No,” he answered, leaning back against a counter.

“Well, that’s a relief. So you wanted me to see the kitchen?”

“No. That’s not all. I wanted to be sure you’re feeling better. Today was not an easy day.”

“Yes. Much better, thanks. I was a bit overwhelmed at the photo shoot.”

He nodded. “Understandable. I’m sorry you have to go through all this on my account. I know it’s not what you signed up for.”

His words dug up a reminder about something Kevin said—that Johnny was the one who arranged for me to get this security job in the first place. I had not thought about it much in the chaos of the day. I was tempted to ask him about how he learned I was looking for a job. I couldn’t come up with the right way to ask. No matter how I phrased it in my head, it sounded like it would come out as some type of unnecessary probing, or worse, as an accusation.

“We should get back to our seats and try to get some sleep,” Johnny said, interrupting my mental rehearsal. “The jetlag from flying from LA to Europe is brutal.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I am. About other things too,” he teased, pulling me into his strong chest as he brushed by me. “Besides, if we get to Greece well-rested, we’ll have more time to…play.”

His suggestion sent warm tingles through my body all over again. A lot of my rigid behavior at the photo shoot had to do with not wanting to let myself get carried away in front of the cameras. The other part had been due to the dozens of pairs of eyeballs watching our every move, but that was not nearly as alarming as the sensual need that had taken hold of me. It had gotten to where I was aching for him all the time. Being in front of the cameras in such an intimate position with him earlier, with him nuzzling and kissing me for the poses, had only made me want him more. And our time in the airport restroom…all it did was ratchet up my desire.

But now, we were more or less alone back here. As I looked into Johnny’s eyes, I knew that if he had said the word, I would let him take me right here. I glanced up at him. He seemed tired, so I let it go. The truth was I did not want to be the one initiating things. It would only lead him on and give him the wrong message. It was clear as day to me that he wanted a lot more that something physical.

All the half-dressed dates and nearly-naked music video girls they put out to bolster his public image was just that—an image. I could only see him in serious relationships. He was not a casual sex kind of guy, and I should have made that assessment the first time I slept with him. And I was falling for him.  Now
I
was the one playing with fire. At the end of this contract, I had to burn him and hope he wouldn’t take it too hard. After that, I had the extra task of nursing my own heart back to its usual emotionless place.

Johnny stepped away and I followed him back to get some rest. He leaned back in his seat, reclining it back to almost a flat position, and popped up a little footrest as if he had done it a million times before.

“Have a good nap,” he said. He plugged in his earbuds and I could hear him turn on his music.

I turned to the window, staring out into the clouds. The flight was going to be nearly sixteen hours long, including the quick stop to refuel in New York. With the time difference, we would get to Athens in the morning, and take a helicopter to the private island for his performance. As I ran through the travel plans, it seemed surreal ending up here. I was sitting among a group of individuals who were just as comfortable on a private jet as most people were in their favorite La-Z-Boy chair. And nothing about the day had fazed Johnny. I looked over at him. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was even. I watched him sleep for a while. At some point, I nodded off.

When I opened my eyes again it was dark outside my window. I glanced over at Johnny.

“Hey,” he whispered.

He stood and stretched his arms forward. He was too tall to manage an upward stretch. His back popped, and he grimaced.

“Sounds like you’ve been sitting too long,” I said.

“No doubt. Let’s go stretch our legs in the kitchen.”

I nodded and stood up to stretch as well. When I turned to follow him down the aisle, he had disappeared. I assumed he had gone into the restroom. The cabin of the plane was dark. All the overhead lights were turned off, and the only illumination was the small LED lights on the floor along the aisle. I followed the lighted path to the back of the plane.

“Can I get you something, miss?” a flight attendant standing in the kitchen asked.

“No, thank you,” I said.

I turned and walked back to the restroom door.

I was about to knock when the door opened. Johnny stepped out, smiling broadly. “This plane doesn’t have a private bedroom, but check this out. And don’t worry. If you let me take you in here, bathrooms can be our special thing.”

I wanted to laugh out loud at his tease, but the flight attendant passed by us. I waited for her to walk back to her seat at the front near the cockpit. When she was out of sight, I stepped inside. The restroom was larger than most coffee shop bathrooms. It was lined with granite and tile, and had a standing shower, double sink, toilet, and even a bidet. A bidet up in the air? I huffed out a short snicker. It was not rational. Trust the rich.

“Okay, it’s official. Get rid of the bidet and this could be the best airplane bathroom ever.” I pressed my heel down, and lifted it back up off the floor. “The ground isn’t even sticky.”

I tore my eyes away from the tile pattern framing the sink and looked back at him. He was smiling. The door had swung shut behind us, and I became aware of how close we were standing. Johnny’s eyes darkened as he watched me intently. He stepped in closer, his body heat radiating into me, and my skin warmed. I breathed in his scent. Another flash of heat ran through me.

“You’re so beautiful, Amanda,” he said, gently placing one hand in the side of my face. “And before you try to run off, please just trust me.”

That was all he said before he stepped closer again. I searched his eyes, frantically looking for an excuse to turn and leave. I was too far gone. My body responded to him before my mind could reach a decision. His arms instantly circled around me, his fingertips pressing into my back, pulling me close with an aching desperation that undid any remaining resistance I had. My hands ran up his chest and wove around his neck to grasp the hair at the back of his head. He pressed his body tightly onto mine. I closed my eyes when his head drifted down to me, and I waited one long second before his lips were on mine.

I melted into his hot, hungry kiss. All my anxiety faded away as his tongue parted my lips and explored my mouth; our tongues connected, sending my arousal spiraling upwards. He wove his fingers through my loose hair and gently pulled my head back. He eased from the kiss and nibbled the tender skin along my collarbone, and up my neck until his tongue flicked my earlobe.

I groaned, allowing my hands to explore his broad shoulders, enjoying the movement of his muscles under my fingertips. He ducked down to my breasts and kissed my nipples through the fabric of my dress. His free hand slid down my body and reached under the hem of my dress, tracing tenderly up my thighs to hint at his next move. He pulled away just enough to turn me around and slowly undo the zipper of my dress, trailing the path of the zipper with his soft kisses on my back.

The dress fell to the floor and I was tingling with need. He turned me back to face him and kissed me again while his fingers drew a line down my back. I hissed, pressing myself against him. I arched back, feeling his hardness on my stomach.

“I want to taste you,” he murmured, dropping to his knees before me. He kissed down my stomach until he reached the line of my G-string panties. He stopped, and when I looked down, his eyes were staring up at me. “I’d better tell you sorry now, because…”

His fingers looped under the straps of my panties and sharply ripped them off me. My breath caught at the feel of cool air on my throbbing clit. I smiled briefly—that was why he apologized. His lips moved in, kissing along my hip bone and down my thighs. I spread my legs and held on to his shoulders, already undulating my hips, impatient for him to make his way to my mound. I was panting as he skimmed by.

I was ready to beg if I had to. He stood up and backed me up against the wall behind me, and kneeled before me again. I braced against the wall and looked down at him, watching as his lips met the hood of my pulsing, wet pussy. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, gasping as he increased the pressure, and he placed two fingers against my opening. I already felt like I could come. I whimpered and begged him to take me. He looked up at me.

“Say my name,” he growled.

“Make me come, Johnny,” I repeated.

He shook his head softly against my bush. “No, say my real name.”

My eyes flew down to his. His eyes were dark with arousal, and had a hint of something else; something softer as he waited for me to say it.

“Lorne?”

He returned to continue his assault on my pussy. “Again,” he instructed.

“Make me come, Lorne,” I said, pressing into the wall harder.

His fingers slid between my folds, and my legs buckled. His free arm came around my hips to hold me upright against the wall. I rocked on his fingers as he slid them deep into my wetness, still licking and sucking my clit.

“Oh God, Lorne,” I moaned. His tongue circled under my hood and he drove his fingers deeper each time, bringing me closer to a climax I knew would be powerful. I shivered, and started to buck against his fingers as they hit my G-spot. He pulled them out all the way, stretching out my pleasure, taking his time. It drove me crazy. My fingernails dug into his shoulders as I stood there, weak, practically shaking, almost ready to explode.

“Please Lorne. Make me come,” I begged.

He thrust two fingers deeper inside me. He moved them in and out, and I ground down on them wildly until I could not contain that explosive climax anymore. I came, convulsing along the wall for what seemed like minutes before melting against him. He stood up and picked me up, carrying me across the room. He set me down atop the counter near the sink. He slid his jeans down and I gasped when he released his thick, raging erection.

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