Page 338 of Rock Me All Night
He lives with gusto. I try to imagine myself in one of his poses, confident and sexy and seizing the fucking day, but the mental image won't come together. The Willow in my imagination is awkward and stiff, afraid of what might happen if she so much as takes off her tank top, desperate to get out of the spotlight and behind the camera.
I narrow it down to ten photographs. There's no time to give each image the editing it deserves. Better be as efficient as possible. Exposure. Color. Contrast.
My eyelids get heavy. Okay. It's nearly three a.m. I can finish this in the morning. I get ready for bed, set the alarm clock to give me enough time to finish editing, and surrender to the embrace of the comforter.
It's been such a long day.
* * *
The weight shiftsas a man sits on the bed. "I've been thinking about you all night," he says. "Can't sleep."
The voice is familiar. I need it in my ears. Need him in my bed.
I shift closer, until the heat of his body warms mine. That electricity again. This time it's not a hint. I'm buzzing like a power line.
His mouth goes to my neck. Then down my chest. He pulls my tank top aside. His tongue flicks over my nipples. It's aggressive and precise at once. Nothing like with Bradley. Leagues better.
His lips trail down my stomach. Below my belly button. His hands go to my hips. He pulls my shorts down an inch. His lips press into the now revealed skin. He does it again. Again.
Until he's almost there.
Who is he? I should know, I should care.
Then his mouth is on me, and my whole body is abuzz. I thrash and tug at his hair.
My lips part and a sound escapes. A moan.
And then I'm saying something.
"Tom."
His name.
What, Tom?
There's no telling with his face planted between my thighs. His hair is about the right length. The right color.
Pleasure overwhelms me. Hard to focus on figuring out who he is. It's just a dream. What does it matter? I arch my back as my sex clenches. How long has it been since I've came?
Too long.
I tug at his hair. Almost.
His lips press against my thigh. "Not so hard, kid." He looks up at me. "Save it for round two."
Those mischievous green eyes.
Tom.
His tongue slides over my clit.
Oh, God, Tom.
Nothing else matters. Nothing but the pleasure spreading all the way to my limbs. My body shakes as an orgasm overtakes me.
I reach for him and he comes closer. His body is on top of mine, warm and heavy in just the right way. Hard. He's hard—his shoulders, his chest, his abs.
His cock.
I slides my hand below his belly button, over a soft tuft of pubic hair. My fingers brush his shaft. His tip. The hard metal of his piercing.
"I thought you had another three weeks." I groan as I wrap my hand around him.
"Not for you."
He takes my hand and presses it against his hard chest. I spread my legs as he shifts into position.
Almost.
Almost...
