Page 15 of Taming His Rockstar

Chapter 7

Jake lives in a studio apartment, and even before we walk in, he’s already apologizing for the state of the apartment. Which means I’m expecting utter chaos since I know exactly how dirty some men can get. He manages to surprise me when we walk in and I find the apartment relatively neat. While he runs around picking up empty pizza boxes and returning cushions to the single couch in the living space, I find myself admiring a painting in the middle of the room. I know it’s erotic because of how it makes me feel, even though it’s not the usual depiction of naked women and blooming flowers that most erotic art is.

“It’s a cock.”

I turn around slowly and find Jake holding two glasses in his hand. I glance down at it. “I thought you were supposed to stop with the alcohol after I agreed to come home with you?”

“Just juice,” he replies. “I’m going to need you sober enough for the next part. Besides, I didn’t need alcohol to get you here tonight. We both know it’s why you came to the bar.”

I can’t argue with that, so I turn back to the painting and finally find it, buried amongst the mishmash of colors. A big and bold phallus with fountains of colors spewing out the top. I turn and point to the remaining paintings hanging on the wall.

“So, you’re a collector?”

He shrugs. “You could say that. Some of it is mine though.”

He says it noncommittally, but I know enough about art to hear the pride and devotion in his voice. This is more than a hobby to him. I look at the paintings one by one, seeing a mishmash of styles. It should have led to chaos. Yet in this apartment with its big-ass TV and entertainment center, single couch, and bachelor’s vibe, it works well. Perhaps because of the man standing in the very center of the room. He’s watching me over the rim of his glass, and I wonder if he’s waiting for me to grant him permission to approach. I hope he’s not one of those. God knows, I’m attracted to him on some whole other level. It’d be a huge turnoff if he turned out to have a submissive bend.

“This one is yours.” I point to the erotic art. “Isn’t it?”

“Why do you say that?” he asks as he walks toward me.

“It kind of screams you. It has this underlying sexual tension beneath. Like you’re trying to mask that part of you beneath layers of color.” I lick the rim of my glass and smile when I hear him hold his breath. “Still, it manages to shine through, nevertheless.”

“You’re playing with fire,” he says in a deep voice that vibrates with a million sexual thoughts all aimed at me. It’s been a long time since I got wet because of a man. This is the first time I got wet before he even places a hand on me, and I remember thinking we haven’t even kissed yet. “You want to get burned?”

I give him my laziest smile. “I’m starting to think you’re all talk and no bite.”

He returns my smile, and his has my knees buckling. “Come here,” he orders in a lazy drawl that has me moving before I can even process the actual command.

I strut toward him sexily. At least, I hope I do. It’s hard to concentrate on my gait when I can see his cock straining at his crotch. I mean literally. It pulses and jerks right in front of me. I get to him, and he wraps his hand around my hips and pulls me to him as he crushes my mouth in a kiss. Somehow, he manages to remove the glass in my hand and drops it next to his on a coffee table. A move that makes me ask just how many times he’s done that.

My fingers immediately go to his shoulders, and I grip them, my nails digging into him as I move closer into him. His tongue probes at my lips, and I part them immediately, moaning when I taste him right in my mouth. His hands on my hips are like steel bands, yet his grip on me is a light caress that feels like the whisper of the wind. I want him to hold me tighter, need to feel the strength in his hands. Not that I’m too focused on that. No, my brain is still getting used to the onslaught of his tongue in my mouth. That tongue doesn’t stay still. It strokes the insides of my mouth, an erotic wrestle with my tongue that has me getting tipsy with pleasure. I press closer to him, moving my hips so I can feel the hardness of his cock thrusting against me. Knowing I’ve done that to him makes me get drunk on my power, and I begin to move against him. He returns my thrust with a motion of his hips, and I feel the imprint of his cock even harder. I whimper. A loud sound of sheer helplessness that I can’t believe comes out of me as I begin to ride the steel column of his erection, my sex fairly dripping wet now. If only I could make the clothes between us disappear. But I figure if I do this long enough, rock against him hard enough, I can push myself over the edge I’m slowly approaching.

He suddenly bites my lip and pulls back, staring at me with a smile.

“Not so fast,” he says as he steps back and stares at me. “This is going to take a while, and I don’t need my boys arriving at this party early.”

I grin at him. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Scared? Not really. Let’s just say I want to make a good first impression.” He nudges his head at my dress. “I have half a mind to rip that off you. How attached are you to it?”

I cock a brow at him. “Very much attached. Took me hours to get this one. Besides, I don’t see why guys think it’s that easy to rip a dress apart. That only happens in cheesy movies.”

“Do you want to test that theory?”

I stare at his muscles and then think of the delicate edges of my pretty dress and decide not.

“Thought as much. So how about you take it off yourself? Wait,” he stops me when I move to reach the zip at the back of the dress. He leans against the back of the couch and folds his hands over his chest. “How about you do it slow and steady? You know, like I was a gentleman in a club, and you’re trying to get me to empty my pocket?”

“So, I’m your stripper now?” I ask, my hand cocked on my hip.

“No.” His gaze suddenly goes dark, his voice deep as he stares at me with a look that is so blatantly sexual it makes my mouth go dry. “For this night, you’re whatever I want you to be. Whatever . . .”

That should not arouse me as much as it does. For the first time, I have to admit to myself that he is very unlike every man I’ve ever met before. For one, this is not my first time having a one-night stand, and it’s very rare for one-night stands to take this long before we’re both naked and doing it. Hell, I’ve had one-night stands that didn’t last this long. Already, this is turning out to be my best one-night stand. I raise my hand and slowly glide it down my body, giving him a smile that promises him every fantasy he’s ever dreamed of and some. I don’t need to check to see if it’s working. I perfected that smile on a stage in front of millions of fans, and it’s never failed me. I keep my eyes on his as I glide my hands over my body, slowly cupping my breasts and thrusting them out at him. I hear his breathing go harsh and smile inside. Through my dress, I circle my nipples with my thumb, slowly rocking back and forth. I’m going to make him beg me to take this dress off. I’m going to make him speed this along. One hand still cupping my breast, the other hand travels down to pick the hem of my dress and slowly pull it up until it’s right around my hip. I turn and slowly push that hem between my legs, so I have one leg naked and the other covered. I rock against the hand between my thighs and keep on thumbing at my nipples through my dress. I see his hips make a small jerking motion. I’m surprised when he pushes his legs farther apart, his gaze on me. He has a bored expression on his face, and that is both infuriating and erotic at the same time. Even my hands between my legs is getting me excited. I’ve never been this excited by my touch, and soon, my thrusting motions are not purely to arouse him.

“Take as long as you need,” he drawls, his voice seeming to get ever deeper. I know it’s because he’s getting more aroused. It doesn’t stop the effect it’s having on me. “Do whatever you want to do. Just know that the first time you come, it will be with my head between your legs. When it happens, you’re going to be naked. And Kate, you come any other way, and you and I are going to have problems.”

“What are you going to do?” I want to ask him.

---