Page 86 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

I barely registered the ornate lobby, the chandelier hanging from the ceiling high above us. I knew he’d picked this place so I would remember, so it would be special, but I couldn’t focus on or think about anything else but him. I couldn’t wait to get to our room, not so I could see the amazing view from the forty-seventh floor, but because I couldn’t wait for him to strip me down and take me and make me his. Finally.

Finally.

Dale slipped the key cards into his back pocket as we walked to the elevator.

“How did you pay for this?” I whispered as we got in. He couldn’t afford to get a set of wheels or a new amp, but he could afford a limo and this hotel room?

Dale smiled, putting a finger to his lips. “Your fairy godfather.”

“But I don’t—”

He kissed me quiet, pinning me to the back of the elevator with his hips, his studded belt leaving red patterned marks on my thighs because my legs were wrapped around him so tightly. I was sure the security cameras were filming us but I didn’t care.

We kissed for forty-seven full floors, both of us groaning when the bell for the elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open.

He grinned. “Race you.”

He got a head start, but I made it to the door first, panting and leaning against the door frame, waiting for him to catch up with the key card. He was just seconds behind me, sliding the keycard into the slot, his eyes dark with lust at the metaphor as he slipped it back out and opened up the room.

It was a suite with a living room area, the bedroom through that. Dale shut the door behind me and I saw strawberries dipped in chocolate sitting on the table, along with a dozen roses, a card tucked into their stems.

“You thought of everything.” I thought I wouldn’t be able to focus on the room or anything but Dale, but the cool air over my skin, the strawberries and flowers, the big, mahogany canopied bed, and oh my God, the view! Looking north, down on Park Avenue, toward Central Park, you could see everything, including the Empire State Building, all lit up.

“Look at this!” I cried, standing at the window, the city all neon below us.

“I can’t think about anything but you.” He slid his arms around me from behind and I felt him, still hard, reminding me how wet I was for him. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else for months. Everything I do, I’m thinking about you.”

“I know.” I sighed, wiggling back against him, hearing him groan.

“Sara, I have to warn you,” he murmured, his teeth raking my earlobe. “I’m going to come like a teenager, the minute I slide inside of you for the first time.”

I moaned, reaching back for him, finding the edge of his belt, and pulling on it, grinding his hips harder against me.

“It’s okay,” I panted. “Oh God, I just want you inside of me. Please. Please.”

He turned me around, his mouth slanting across mine, lips parting as we kissed, tongue making long, deep thrusts as he urged me toward the bed. And oh, what a bed. If I’d thought Dale’s bed was big, this was like a cloud floating in an infinite sky. I leaned back, letting him kiss me down onto the mattress, then got up on my elbows so I could watch him peel off his t-shirt. He was so beautiful, his shoulders broad, belly flat and ridged, a dark line of hair running down from his navel and disappearing below that flashy, studded belt.

He reached for his belt, his gaze never leaving me, stretched out on the bed, still fully clothed but wanting him, waiting for him, and I couldn’t resist. I sat up, squeezing him between my thighs and grabbing onto his belt, quickly unbuckling it. He watched me, a half-smile on his face, as I unzipped his jeans, pushing them down his hips and letting him spring free.

But then I took him in my hand, stroking him gently, and his mouth fell open in a soft “o” of pleasure, his eyes closing as I pumped him in my hand, an easy rhythm, not too fast, not too slow, watching his face the whole time. His cock was just as beautiful as the rest of him, straight up hard, circumcised, the tip wet with pre-cum.

Dale gasped when I leaned forward and licked it off. I couldn’t help it. I had to taste him. I wanted all of him. He moaned when I slid to my knees off the edge of the bed and slipped the head into my mouth, rolling my tongue around the tip, teasing him, and his hips rocked forward to meet me, slipping his cock further down my throat.

“Sara,” he cried, grabbing a fist full of my hair and pulling back, the length of him sliding out of my mouth with a thick “popping” sound. “Oh God, wait. Nnn. That’s too good.”

“No such thing,” I whispered, nuzzling his thighs, working his jeans further down his legs until he could step out of them, leaving him completely nude.

“Your turn,” he insisted, pulling me up to standing in front of him.

There wasn’t much to take off, but he took his time, peeling off my shirt first, kissing my shoulders and the tops of my breasts in my bra before unhooking it in front and freeing them. The look on his face was almost pained the first time he saw my breasts, my nipples pink and hard as pebbles under his thumbs. Then he was licking them, making me moan and arch against him, aching for more.

My skirt had an elastic waist and he slid that down my hips, leaving me only in panties. I’d already lost my heels and my purse somewhere near the front door of our suite. He grabbed my hips, pushing me up onto the bed and sliding me back, back on the endless mattress so he could stretch out between my thighs, kissing his way leisurely up them, first one, then the other, skipping over my sex, so wet the white crotch of my panties showed it entirely.

ayed 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.”

---