Page 93 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

He kissed me then, taking my breath as always. I felt his heart beating fast against mine.

“Are you ready for yours?” he whispered near my ear.

“My what?” I was still dazed from his kiss.

“Come on.” He led me back into the living room. I sat on the floor while he dug around under the tree, pulling out a long black velvet box. My heart sank at the sight of it. He came to sit next to me.

“I know we talked about it and you said you weren’t ready to make a real commitment, because of college and Tyler Vincent and me trying to make it in the music business,” he started, holding my hand and the box in the other.

He paused and I looked at him.

Don’t do this, I pleaded silently and he smiled a little sheepishly.

“But—?” I said for him.

“I want you to know this isn’t like that. This is... this is to show you I understand... about your feelings for Tyler Vincent. And me.”

I took the box from him and hesitated before opening it, a little afraid. It creaked open and I gasped aloud, lifting the heart-shaped locket, holding it up on tented fingers. The gold shone in the light and a diamond sparkled in its top left corner.

“Oh, Dale,” I whispered, holding it in my palm.

“Open it,” he encouraged.

“There’s more?” I lifted the tiny latch and opened the heart. On the left side was a picture of Dale, looking a little younger but much the same. On the right side was a picture of Tyler Vincent. I felt tears well and couldn’t keep them from falling.

“Hey, don’t cry. Don’t you like it?” he asked, concerned, touching my cheek.

I hugged him hard and fast, surprising him.

“It’s lovely,” I whispered against his shirt. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve a great deal more than this, beautiful, and I intend to give it to you.” He clutched me tightly.

“Will you put it on me?” I pulled away to hand the locket to him and lifted my hair. He put it around my neck and took a moment to do the clasp. I felt his breath touch the tiny hairs on the nape of my neck. I let my hair fall and turned to look at him.

“Dale.” I said his name quietly, running my hand along his jaw. “Thank you. For this. For understanding. For everything.”

“Do I have to say you’re welcome? You’re always welcome.” He opened his arms and I went to him, snuggling in close, closer.

“We need some mistletoe,” I murmured.

“What for?” His eyes were closed.

“So you’d have an excuse to kiss me.”

He smiled, flashing that sweet dimple and looking at me. “I don’t need an excuse.”

His mouth found mine and I found myself wrapping myself around him, limbs twining around his neck, his waist. Dale shifted his weight, rolling me into the floor, both of us rocking together, him on top of me. His mouth slanted across mine, drawing me into him, and I was completely lost in the sensation. I gasped when his tongue touched mine, teasing, probing, exploring.

I’d never been kissed like this man kissed me.

He took me places I didn’t even know existed in my own imagination.

Then his mouth moved down my neck, hands pushing at my sweater, seeking the skin of my belly, kissing my navel. He paused there to lick it, using my belly button and his tongue as mini-models, dipping in and fucking it a little, making me moan with anticipation.

I peeled my sweater off over my head and his gaze fell onto my black bra, moving over the tops of my breasts, pressing upwards like an invitation.

I reached for him, and we rolled again. This time, it was me pushing his shirt up, peeling it off, seeking skin. I wanted to feel him against me. He didn’t object, tossing his shirt over to join mine as we kissed and groped each other in the dimness.

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