Page 85 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

We swayed with the crowd—it was impossible not to. Aimee leaned back in Matt’s arms, smiling. Dale put his arm around me. I nudged him and he looked at me quizzically. I just shrugged and smiled.

“You and your obsessions,” he said close to my ear.

“You’re just as bad,” I told him, realizing it for the first time myself. “You want to be the object of obsessions.”

He looked at me for a long moment and I could tell he was thinking.

Then he grinned and said, “You’re right. We make quite a pair, don’t we?”

“Are you ready for your surprise?”

The limo dropped Aimee and Matt off at Aimee’s house, and while I expected it to head west, toward the apartments, instead it headed north. The driver seemed to know exactly where he was going.

“Is it Tyler Vincent wrapped up in a big bow?” I teased. “Because I don’t think you could top tonight otherwise.”

“Ouch.” Dale put his hand over his heart, pretending to be mortally wounded. “I rent a room at the Waldorf Astoria so we can spend the night together, and you want Tyler Vincent instead?”

“Oh Dale.” I immediately regretted my words. Besides, even though I was on a high from the concert, my mind hadn’t exactly been on Tyler Vincent. It had been on Dale. “Oh my God. You’re kidding me?”

He grinned, shaking his head and holding up his first two fingers. “Boy Scouts honor.”

“You were never a Boy Scout.” I laughed, sliding across the seat and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I was too!” he protested. “I even got my merit badge!”

“We’re really going to New York?” I whispered, looking out the tinted windows at the world going by. I’d only ever been into New York City itself once before, on a school field trip. Although I had a feeling I wouldn’t be doing much sightseeing on this one. Not that I cared.

He nodded, looking at his watch. “Should be there in about forty minutes.”

“Mmm then maybe we should start now,” I murmured, sliding my hand up under his shirt, feeling the hard ridges of his belly. “That’s a long time, and there’s a lot of room back here.”

“I’m not objecting.” He slipped further down on the white leather seat, his hips at the edge, pulling me into his lap.

I straddled him, leaning down to kiss him, the soft, familiar press of his lips meeting mine, his hands moving up the soft skin of my bare thighs. My skirt was short, far shorter than I was used to or allowed to wear, but I’d changed at Aimee’s, both of us doing our best to draw all of the masculine attention, and of course, one male in particular—Tyler Vincent himself.

It had been quite successful, at least on the first count. Dale had given me his jacket, insisting I tie it around my waist during the concert, and I’d humored him, but he didn’t seem to mind the shortness of my skirt now we were alone. His hands stroked my thighs as we kissed, a slow rhythm, up and down, driving me crazy. His tongue made lazy circles with mine, teasing, playing with me.

“I’m not sure I can do this for another half an hour,” I whispered against his neck, feeling his hips grinding into mine. I felt how hard he was for me.

“I could do this for days,” he whispered back, hands on my hips, moving me in circles against the denim crotch of his jeans.

I moaned, shaking my head, but he captured my mouth again, kissing me as he rolled me onto the seat, on my back, his thighs spreading mine, forcing them to open around him. His lips grazed my throat, tongue bathing my collarbone, tracing the line of it to the hollow of my throat, making delightful circles there.

He was so hard, God, so damned hard. I wanted him so much I couldn’t stand it. I reached for him, feeling the hot denim rub of him against the crotch of my panties, but he grabbed my wrists like he always did, pinning my arms above my head and kissing me dizzy.

“Please,” I gasped, cupping his face in my hands and sucking on his lower lip.

Dale shook his head, not giving me what I wanted, but giving me a little more, his tongue teasing the seam of my lips open, flicking the slide of my mouth again and again until I was writhing beneath him, another matching set of lips between my legs swollen and wet for him, aching for more. Then he slipped his tongue into my mouth, forcing my lips to open to him, making his tongue hard and thrusting it in and out, slowly and first, then faster.

I moaned, sucking gently on his tongue, my hips matching his driving rhythm, grinding and rolling under him. I lost all sense of time or even location. I was just pure sensation, feeling everything, the heat of his body, the way the leather of the seat stuck to my skin, the pull of my hair trapped under my back as we rocked, our mouths locked tightly together.

I wanted him, but I knew what he meant. I could have kissed him like this forever and done nothing else at all except this. We kissed and kissed, like it was our first time making out and we were too afraid to go any further, afraid not only of maybe our parents walking in or being caught doing something naughty, but afraid of what came next and how it would change things. Everything.

“We’re here, Sara,” Dale whispered as the limo pulled up to the Waldorf Astoria. I let him lead me. I couldn’t see straight. My mouth was swollen from his kisses, but my sex was even more so. I was so wet it was embarrassing. If I’d been a guy, I probably would have knocked someone over with my erection. Thankfully I didn’t have to deal with that, but Dale was smart, keeping me in front of him, leaning up against me from behind as we checked in so I could feel how much he wanted me, but no one else could see it.

“No bags, sir?” the desk clerk asked as Dale signed for the room.

“No.” Dale nuzzled my ear, whispering. “We’re not going to need clothes.”

---