Cover Me: A Rock Star Romance Page 11

  “And? Who was she?”

  “Ali Wilson. She’s a model.”

  The name wasn’t familiar. I guessed she wasn’t a supermodel. “What does she model?”

  “Victoria’s Secret underwear.” He twitched when he said it, like he was expecting me to freak out. I wanted to. I mean, I pictured her tall, thin, perfectly-proportioned body next to his and it fit much better than mine. And it hadn’t been a one-time deal either, which made it worse.

  “Why weren’t you in a relationship with her if it was more than once?”

  “She was always travelling for photo shoots and I was on tour. It couldn’t happen.”

  “Oh. But if she was in L.A. and you were in L.A., you would’ve been together?” A puzzle was coming together in my mind. I didn’t like the way it fit.

  He looked up at me. “I can’t say that. That’s like asking me if Unholy Union would’ve ever had a number one record. It’s in the past and over with before it ever started and there’s no way to tell. I don’t want to know, anyway. I’m where I want to be by choice.”

  I nodded, knowing what he said was true. There was never a way to predict what could’ve been.

  “What about you?” he asked. “The last person you were with?”

  I thought back to the night about six months ago after a premiere of a documentary about a wrongly accused woman sent to prison that was so dull I almost fell asleep. I was going out with the director at the time. A short-lived affair of a handful of months. He was overjoyed with the reception his film received. I refrained from commenting other than congratulating him. We drank champagne until the early hours of the morning, then spent the night at his place. A small apartment in the city with a view of the highway. His mattress was hard and he had two cats that liked to sit on the dresser and watch. They were quite the captive audience. He stuck his cock in and went to town. If I wanted an orgasm, it was my responsibility. That was his normal M.O. We broke up two days later when my less-than-glamorous review of his film ran in The Scene.

  “Tell me it wasn’t Jack Fucking Stewart.”

  My stomach clenched. Derek didn’t need to know this, but Jack Stewart wasn’t my favorite topic either. He’d seeded some deep set self-doubt in me where men are concerned. “No. Lonny Fenwick. I’m sure you have no idea—”

  “Director,” he said, pinning me with his eyes. “Did that women’s prison documentary. I saw it. It wasn’t great.”

  I let out a breath of a laugh. “It was terrible. There was potential, but he sucked the life out of it with the drug rehab angle instead of focusing on her trial and the evidence and the way the case was handled.”

  Derek lowered his chin, eyeing me. “How long were you with him?”

  “What makes you think we were together?”

  He gave me an amused, condescending grin. “You don’t do one night stands, Bess.”

  I sat up straighter, turning my body toward him, indignant. “How do you know?”

  “Okay, was it a one-time deal?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean there haven’t been others.”

  He smirked. “Fair enough. I don’t need to know the entire list of men you’ve been with.”

  Did he expect me to say the same? “Well, I at least want to know how many women you’ve been with.”

  “Okay.”

  I waited, but he said nothing else. “Okay?”

  He let go of my hand and rested his arm on the back of the bench behind me. “Were you asking me, or just telling me you wanted to know?”

  “What’s the difference? How many?”

  My simmering fury made him laugh. “More than I should’ve been with.”

  I slumped against the bench. “More than you want to tell me.”

  He nodded. “How about you?”

  My pathetic number four seemed too embarrassing to mention. “Nowhere near as many as you.”

  “Thank God for that.” He tilted his head back and looked up at the star-speckled night sky. I let the topic drop.

  “What do you think Adrian wants to talk about?”

  “I don’t know.” He pointed to the sky. “Isn’t that the Big Dipper?”

  I leaned in close to him and followed where his finger pointed. “No, that’s the Little Dipper. The North Star—which is one degree away from true north, by the way—is the last star in the handle of the Little Dipper.”

  “Really?” He squinted his eyes. “It doesn’t look much brighter than the others.

  “It’s hazy tonight.” My eyes scanned the stars and I pointed a little to the left. “That’s the big dipper.”

  “Can’t be. That looks like a rat.”

  “Oh, right, they added the rat constellation back in 2004. I forgot.”

  His arm came down and wrapped around my neck, pulling me against his chest. His faint chuckle vibrated in my ear. “Smart ass,” he said and kissed the top of my head before letting me go. “Let’s get out of here. There’s a banana split with your name on it waiting to be inhaled.”

  “Extra whipped cream?”

  Derek picked up the tackle box and grabbed my hand. “Sure. When we get back to your house.”

  I laughed as he shrugged his eyebrows, leering at me, but when we got in the car I’d make sure he got the point that I could skip the ice cream and the whipped cream and get straight to the real dessert.

  Thirteen

  Derek

  “You’re going to make me wreck your car.” I could barely get the words out—could hardly string a sentence together. My pants were open, my cock in her mouth and she’d made me drive.

  “Mmhmm,” she hummed, making my shaft and balls vibrate. “Focus on the road, Bast. I’ll focus on you.”

  The place I thought we’d go for ice cream was gone. “Where the hell do people get ice cream around here?”

  “Forget the ice cream,” she said, licking me like a cone, swirling her tongue around my head.

  “Done.” I made a quick U-turn and headed back toward home.

  She sucked and stroked, every once in a while moving her mouth over my abs. Jesus, where did she learn to suck a man’s cock?

  The thought made me tense. I didn’t want to know. Those lips, that mouth were mine now.

  She must’ve felt my muscles clench, because her hand gripped my thigh and massaged as her head bobbed up and down on my lap. I stopped at a red light and watched her, disbelieving that only about a week ago she wanted nothing to do with me. I don’t know if it was my determination, luck or fate that brought us here, but I’d never let her push me away again.

  I gathered her hair in my hand and held it so I could see her beautiful face, her wide mouth wrapped around me, her eyes shut in ecstasy. Her arm nearest the seat was bent up under her and she squeezed her breast as she sucked me off.

  “We’ve got to get out of this fucking shoe box.” I pounded my palm against the wheel, willing the light to change. That’s when I saw the hotel on the next corner.

  When the light turned green, I floored it and turned into the hotel lot with a screech of the tires. I parked and turned the car off, making Bess sit up and look around, wiping her mouth off on the back of her hand.

  “Where are we?”

  “Hotel,” I said, tucking myself back into my pants. “I can’t wait one more minute.”

  I hustled her across the lot and into the lobby, got us a room for the night and led her to the elevator. The doors shut and I grabbed her, lifted her and pressed her against the wall with her legs wrapped around my waist. “I can’t wait to strip you and have you spread open for me on the bed,” I said against the delicate skin of her neck.

  Her fingers tugged at my hair and her hips rotated against mine. She let out little puffs of breath and whimpers as I kissed and licked behind her ear down over her collar bone.

  The elevator stopped, dinged and the door opened. The hall was empty, so I carried her to our room, opened the door and rushed toward the bed. The only thing on my mind was my tongue between her legs
, something I’d been dying to do but wasn’t sure I should take it that far without her trust. Tonight though—fuck it. I had to taste her and have her squirming and writhing against my mouth.

  I climbed onto the big, king-sized bed and laid her down in the middle of the white, down comforter. Her dark hair splayed out around her head and her eyes looked up at me filled with hot desire. “I want you,” she whispered. Her anxious fingers unbuttoning my pants.

  “Not as much as I want you.” I took her glasses off, pulled her up enough to get her shirt over her head and unfasten her bra. In a second, both were on the floor. I flipped on the dim lamp beside the bed, bathing her bare breasts in warm light. “You’re like an angel or a Greek god, some mythical figure of female perfection.”

  I lifted her breasts with my fingers and thumbed her dark pink nipples feeling them go from stiff to rock hard. She tried to kiss me, but I held back. “I want to see your face when I touch you like this.”

  I licked my index finger and circled her areola, tightening the circle until her nipple was under my finger, wet and shiny. I did the same to her other breast, watching her eyes follow my finger, her mouth parted, her hands inside my pants rubbing and stroking and driving me insane.

  She looked up at me and lifted her head, her eyes trained on my mouth. I gave in and flicked her top lip with my tongue, mimicking the motion with my thumbs on her nipples. Her chest heaved. Her back arched. It took all the control I had not to tear her shorts off and fuck her blind. Tonight wasn’t the night for that. Not in a hotel bed. Not with Bess. But tonight was the night for touching and tasting and working out pent up desires before we exploded.

  I caressed her stomach, rubbing my palms up and down from under her breasts to the top of her low-riding waistband. She stretched like a cat under me, lifting her arms above her head and closing her eyes. Ready and willing to let me pleasure her.

  My fingers went to work on unfastening her shorts and I indulged in licking and nipping her breasts, sucking her nipples hard and then laving them with my tongue. When her zipper was down, I trailed my mouth down her sternum, dipping my tongue into her belly button before rising to tug her shorts and underwear off.

  Her eyes were open and she bit the tip of her index finger, watching me. “What do you think’s going to happen next?” I asked her, spreading her knees apart and pushing her thighs up so she was open and exposed to me.

  In answer, she reached between her legs, spread her wetness between her folds and sighed before holding her finger up for me to taste. I swallowed hard. My cock throbbed. “Dessert,” I whispered and took her finger in my mouth, holding her eyes as I licked off her salty sweet goodness.

  She moaned and shifted her hips. I splayed my fingers on her inner thighs and used my thumbs to open and caress her soft red folds, her skin tinged darker on the edges. She was shaved, but had a small patch of black hair on her mons. I studied how she looked, like I wanted to be able to pick her pussy out of a lineup. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to memorize every detail about her.

  She clenched and released her opening, like a baby bird begging to be fed. I ran the tip of my finger along the rim, teasing, before pushing inside her. Her muscles tightened and she moaned as I slid in a second finger, my hand palm up, and bent my fingers, rubbing the swollen, spongy nub that would make her lose her mind.

  Her hands grasped her breasts, pushing them together, her fingers plucking her nipples. No matter how much I wanted to keep my vantage point to watch, I couldn’t hold back any longer and dipped my head between her legs.

  I ran my nose up her center, pressing the tip against her clit, smelling her scent. My mouth watered. If I could be sustained by Bess’s pussy, it would be all I’d ever eat. I gently rubbed my stubbly chin across her folds. I wanted her all over my face. Her hands darted down and planted on the sides of my head, pushing me against her. I opened my mouth and placed my lips over her, closing them together and pulling at her lose folds before letting them go and lapping her with my tongue.

  Her hands grasped my hair. Her heels rested on my shoulders and she rocked up into me. The way she moved, seeking and letting her body beg for more had me licking and sucking and lapping, pushing and rubbing my fingers inside her faster and faster. I didn’t want it to end, but Jesus I wanted to make her come so hard she came off the bed.

  Her pelvis tilted and fell against my face as fast as my mouth and fingers worked her. She panted and moaned, held my head tight, urging me on as I sucked her clit. “So good,” she cried. “Oh God, so good!”

  Her thighs began to flutter and shake. Her pussy squeezed my fingers tight. She let go of my head and ran her hands up over her chest to her flushed neck and face, her head thrown back, mouth wide open, brow furrowed. She worked her hips against me harder, faster, so close. My balls ached and cock twitched wanting to come with her.

  I moved my mouth from her pussy, pressed my free hand down on her stomach, putting pressure just above her pelvis, and rubbed my thumb in circles over her clit. My fingers worked the small swollen mound inside on her upper wall, rubbing and pressing as I thrust in and out of her lightning fast and steady. My palm was covered in wetness that ran down my fingers.

  Bess let out a small cry, planted her hands on the bed and lifted her shoulders. I found her eyes and watched as her orgasm claimed her. “Yes! Oh God. Oh God. Yes.” Her pussy convulsed around my fingers. Her entire body shook and shivered. I kept working her while she writhed and whimpered until she couldn’t take it anymore and pried my hands away.

  She lay sated on the bed. I lapped her opening and licked my fingers for her to see. Underneath her was a giant wet spot I helped her create. It was crazy how I could bring this part of her out. Bess—my Bess next door.

  I crawled up beside her and took her in my arms. “You’re amazing.” I caressed her flushed stomach and breasts.

  “You’re a god,” she said, smiling with her eyes closed. “If this music thing crashes and burns, you can always be a porn star.”

  “As long as I’m making videos with you.” I kissed her breathless mouth. “I can’t believe the way you respond to me.”

  She rolled over and lifted my shirt, planting kisses on my chest and down onto my abs. “Time for you to respond to me.”

  “I don’t want you to have to work for it. I’m close already. I’ve been on the verge since the car. Why don’t I give it to you?”

  Between my legs, she gave me an evil grin and opened her mouth.

  I leaned back against the head board and took my cock in my hand and began stroking. She gently kneaded and tugged my balls, let her finger travel behind them and rubbed and pressed the no man’s land she found there.

  “Fuck, Bess. I’m already there.” I jerked my cock faster. My hips tightened and twitched. She put her face down and licked my balls and that was it. “God damn.” I throbbed and pulsed. She lapped it up and sucked me dry.

  Licking her lips, she sat up. “I’ve dreamed of doing these things with you for so long, I can’t stop thinking this isn’t real.”

  “It has to be real,” I said, catching my breath. “I can’t make up anything this good.”

  She climbed up my body and lay on top of me. I pulled the sides of the comforter up over us and held her. My eyes were heavy and no matter how much I wanted to stay awake and enjoy Bess naked in my arms, I fell asleep in minutes.

  Bess

  Lulled into a peaceful state by the rise and fall of Derek’s chest, I replayed the way he touched me, how he manipulated my body to take my orgasm to a new level of off the freaking charts incredible.

  There was something to be said for an experienced man. All the women before me didn’t matter as long as I reaped the benefits of coming after them. If oral sex was this good, I couldn’t fathom what it was going to be like when we made love. I didn’t want to wait any longer. I knew it was up to me to leave the past in the past. When I trusted him completely, he’d be with me completely.

  I laid there thinking about
who I was at eighteen and what I wanted from him, why I didn’t tell him, why I wanted him to inherently know.

  Because I wanted him to know me. Really, truly know me and how I felt and what I needed. Was it fair of me to expect that of him at our age? Did I expect that of him now?

  I wanted it. I wasn’t sure I could or even should expect it.

  Emmy was always preaching to me. “Don’t expect people to read your mind, Bess. If you want something, you have to ask for it. If you don’t, you have no right to bitch and be mad.”

  She was right. I knew she was, but it would’ve been nice if Derek had considered—just for a moment—what would make me happy. Or even, what would piss me off and then not do it. But he didn’t. It was like I never existed and it was him, alone, becoming a big star.

  So, I figured he could be alone. Or at least without me since he didn’t seem to care anyway.

  Now, here he was a full nine years later. A man who’d seen the world, lived a life I glimpsed from covering bands on tour—one of exhaustion and alcohol, different cities and different women every night, busses and planes, hotel rooms and food on the run—and I wasn’t sure I could trust him any more now than I had back then.

  I rested my chin on my hands over his chest and studied his sleeping face. He was breathtaking. He always had been even when he was younger, lanky and had more ego and less confidence.

  Powerful, bittersweet emotion surged through my chest.

  I was in love with this man. I always had been. I always would be.

  Before he was anyone else’s star, he was mine, singing in his bedroom at night for me to hear. I kissed his chest over his beating heart and laid my ear against it, closing my eyes to the rhythm, wishing to fall asleep like this every night.

  Like déjà vu, I woke to my cell buzzing and chiming, alerting me to calls and voicemails. I’d rolled off of Derek during the night and we slept like spoons, his hand snug between my breasts, my butt planted firmly against his crotch. I could feel the poke of his zipper, still down, and wondered why I hadn’t insisted on him taking his clothes off last night. It would be much nicer to wake up to him naked.