Page 86 of Dirty Rock

She blushed before she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down at her phone. When I turned to walk out of the room, I caught a glance of Presley behind the studio’s drum kit. He was watching me carefully, so I stuck my middle finger in my mouth, sucked it a few times, and then flipped him the bird as I walked out of the room.

I made it down the corridor to see a single, accessible toilet at the bottom. It was fucking huge. I stepped inside, not locking the door as I went to stand in front of the mirror in there.

It took her two minutes to open the door and close it behind her.

My reflection changed in the mirror. The straight-faced, bad boy rocker turned into the grinning idiot with a spark in his eyes and a stiffy in his jeans as I turned around, took one look at her, and slammed her up against the door. Her breath hitched in her throat as I caught her with one hand while my other cradled that delicate neck and brought her mouth closer to mine.

“Keeping you a secret is making me want to fuck you in public.”

“You’re so dreamy.” She sighed, her eyes closing as I pressed my lips to her jaw, kissing her, breathing her in, unable to control my smile.

“I thought I was a nightmare.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re the worst.”

I kissed her so hard, my tongue swept over hers, claiming it as my own. She responded with as much vigour, her hands finding the back of my hair and those nails I loved so much scraping my scalp. Every time they did that, my dick jumped for joy at the thoughts of her scratching my back, holding on tight, scratching my arms, my neck—my face, too.

Our mouths twisted together. Me, all smoke and spearmint. Her nothing but candy and honey I couldn’t overdose on.

“Why do you always taste so damn good,” I moaned against her.

“No idea,” she panted and hitched up a leg. I squeezed it, holding it to me as I gyrated my hard cock against the obvious heat between her legs.

“Fuck, I need to be inside you.”

“Why aren’t you? I want you to fuck me…”

I pulled back, blinking to try and refocus as I took her in. For me, she’d become this private, naughty girl I couldn’t control myself around. I also couldn’t have been more aroused if there were seven of her, all down on their knees, begging to suck me off.

Okay, imagining seven of her was too much.

“Do you have anything on you?”

She eyed me, her breaths heavy and chest pounding. “Condoms?”

“Yeah. Mine are out there in my fucking bag.”

“You idiot,” she sighed through a smile.

“I want you so fucking badly right now, this isn’t even funny. Do you have anything, Jules?”

She rolled her head on the door, her amusement evident.

“Shit!”I cursed, releasing her neck and slamming my hand on the wooden panels behind her.

“Sorry, pretty boy.” She reached up to squeeze my chin.

I growled and looked down into her eyes. I mean… Igrowled.The thought of not releasing soon had me feeling like I had two swollen bollocks wedged in my tight throat.

“I’d get on my knees, but I like these jeans, and this bathroom stinks.” She chuckled lightly. “You’re going to have to put me down and let things… soften.”

Dropping my forehead to hers, I closed my eyes and released her thigh from my grip, pressing that hand to the door, too, while I rocked from side to side.

“You look in pain,” she whispered.

“Agony,” I breathed back.

“Poor baby.”

---