Rock Me Hard

by Casey Hagen

  “Probably. What else?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “What else is there?” Plenty, if you asked him, but he was more curious about what she thought.

  Her mouth dropped open and snapped shut. “You’re going to leave me in front of the restaurant, bloated and pasta drunk?”

  “Never,” he took a step toward her. “I’d put my arm around you and hold you close to keep you warm.”

  She rolled her eyes. “The boy thinks he can fill me with pasta and cheese and that will get him to second base.”

  He shook his head. “Nope, my hand will never move past your arm.”

  “Bummer,” she muttered.

  He reached out and brushed his thumb over the curve of her cheek. “We’d walk in Central Park and eventually, when I found just the right spot, I’d pull you into my arms for a dance in the glow of the city lights.”

  She tilted her head into his touch. “With no music?”

  “We’d make our own music,” he said quietly.

  “Have you ever done this before?” she whispered, her gaze hidden under a sweep of dark lashes.

  “No. I have personal rules against this kind of thing,” he admitted, knowing the words might break the intimate moment, but his nature compelling him to be honest no matter the cost.

  “So why are you breaking all the rules for me?”

  “I haven’t gotten you out of my head since I saw you on TV. There’s something inside you. Something you don’t let others see. I get that.”

  “Am I seeing the real you right now...in this moment?” she asked.

  “Warts and all.”

  She tapped a finger against her lip. “I don’t know...you seem devoid of flaws to me.”

  He needed to break free from the serious turn the conversation took. He had this chance, this night, the last thing he needed to do was start the long fall into love or anything resembling it. Not when he had family obligations locking him down in Stamford and she’d be making tracks all over the globe for years to come.

  He squelched that niggling part of him that wished there could be more, knowing damn well, even if he were that lucky of a son of a bitch, he’d never try to hold her back and tether her to his life. She had a limitless future ahead of her.

  He had the constant weight of responsibility sitting on his shoulders.

  Well, tomorrow.

  Right now, he had this. “Yeah, well, you didn’t hear my muttering like a lunatic at intersections an hour ago and paying fifty dollars for three condoms because I didn’t want to waste time waiting for change when I could be here with you.”

  “Condoms...bold move. Confident. And to think I didn’t know if you’d show up,” she said.

  A frisson of doubt clouded her warm eyes.

  Yeah, he couldn’t have that.

  He took her hand and drew her to him. Letting her go to cup her jaw, he tilted her head back until her eyes met his. Her racing heart fluttered under his wayward fingertip as it rested against the soft flesh of her neck.

  “Hopeful,” he said. Her warm breath danced over his thumb as he grazed her bottom lip, and her eyes drifted shut. “I wanted to be prepared, just in case. There was no way I was going to miss this,” he whispered just a fraction of an inch from her lips.

  Tilting his head, he tasted her. Her soft lips moved with his, a hint of peppermint lingering on her mouth, a taste he found a whole lot more desirable delivered by her velvety lips.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed against him, her lips moving with his, her tongue darting out to taste.

  His rough groan filled the air, mingled with the sound of their harsh breaths tangling with one another as they feasted on each other’s mouths.

  God, how he wanted to untie that belt at her waist and watch that robe fall to the floor, but he fisted his hands at her hips and held her to him, the silk bunched up in his fingers.

  Her nails scraped along his scalp, shooting fire through him as she anchored her hands in his hair. The sensual tug of her fingers kicked his heart into overdrive.

  A surge of need, so powerful that it terrified him, took over, and he knew if he didn’t take a step back, break the contact, he’d take over.

  He couldn’t do that. Still her show.

  He’d never been more sure of what he wanted, but as long as any doubt lingered in her, the ball would forever be in her court.

  Their lungs heaved as they stared at one another, her lips swollen from their fiery kiss. She reached for the knot of silk at her waist, the robe which just moments ago seemed like decent armor between them, now just one more weapon in the arsenal of their growing attraction and his fervent need.

  The fabric shimmered and danced as though it were a living, breathing part of her that shifted with her every move, gliding over her nipples with each intake of breath as they stood there, gazes locked on one another. The tantalizing fabric hugged her hips, danced over the naked swell of her ass, and grazed over her like a lover’s worshiping hand drawing out the anticipation.

  It all changed here.

  Lines blurred.

  Rules shattered, the shards raining to the floor around them.

  “Be sure, Nikki,” his words rumbled out, raw and full of need. “Because when that silk falls to the floor, everything under it becomes mine for the night. I’m a thorough man. I won’t leave anything unexplored. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”

  Chapter 4

  NIKKI LIFTED HER CHIN in defiance of his warning.

  Little did he know just how good she’d become at hiding. Being a mega star required it, and she was far more private than most.

  With a flick of her wrist, she tugged hard, the decision sending the warm rush between her thighs. She peeled the silk back and let it slide from her shoulders and pool on the floor around her. “Stop giving me a way out, Aiden. I invited you to my lair, remember?”

  His molten chocolate eyes narrowed on her, his rapt gaze taking in everything she had just revealed.

  Parts of her she’d never let anyone see before was right, but only what she chose to show, which was still far more than she showed others. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Something about him, about his candidness, glimpses of natural humor, and restrained yearning under ingrained manners told her that he was the right man at the right time.

  At least for this.

  “No more outs. Got it,” he said, his hands curling into fists at his sides as if it took everything in him not to touch her. “You hid a whole lot of secrets under that robe.”

  “Do they bother you?” she asked. Not that it mattered. She had no regrets.

  “I’ll let you know the minute my blood returns to my brain,” he said with a flirty smile tilting his lips as he approached her.

  “You’ll put it in a letter then, because I have every intention of keeping your blood in one particular area for the entire night.” Who was this woman inside her boldly flirting?

  Her light laughter died in her throat the minute his fingertips went to the orchid and vine tattoo covering her bicep.

  He could have reached for anything. Her breasts, her ass, between her thighs, quite literally anything—but no, he stood at her side, her every curve and swell there for his enjoyment, yet his tentative touch went to the most innocent part of her.

  And he did so as if he were touching something so delicate that it might just crumble under his attention, the gesture working its way in a warm surge shooting straight to her heart.

  “It’s like you’ve never seen tattoos before,” she said.

  “Oh, I’ve seen tattoos. I’ve seen people trying too damn hard to make it all perfect. But this,” he said, making a sweeping gesture from her shoulder down, “This is ordered chaos. It’s like you pulled out pieces of your heart and put them right there for all to see.”

  “Not quite all. These are private. They’re covered for shows. They’re for my eyes...and I guess tonight, yours.”

  His knuckle traile
d down her ribcage, landing at the tip of a vintage lady in the antique oval frame covering her thigh. “Despite the complicated outfit restrictions you’d be committing to, you saw what you wanted and went for it.”

  “You can’t be surprised. I went for you, didn’t I?” Oh God, the words were loaded. She didn’t mean for them to be, but they revealed a whole lot about her that even she didn’t know until just that moment.

  Each piece of ink represented something. A love, a promise, a reminder of the wishes she held caged in her soul, just waiting to make them come true.

  His hand stilled, and his gaze snapped to hers. His palm opened against her thigh, his other around the back of her neck pulling her to him. “I have a feeling I was more a moment of insanity, but you seem to have settled into the idea.”

  His lips grazed hers as he spoke before descending on her hot and hungry, and his hand, thank God, finally clutched her cheeks, pulling her against him.

  She squealed when her feet lifted off the floor. Without even a thought, she wrapped her legs around him and sank her fingers in his thick, wavy hair.

  Did he have any clue how sexy he was? God, he was a load of contradictions. Dark and mysterious, yet funny and charming. Guarded. Burdened with something if she had to guess.

  She hadn’t written the songs she had without having learned a little something about people along the way.

  And despite all those facets that made him, despite the low probability of a professional guy being enough of a fan for them to meet, he’d found her.

  He captivated her.

  Turning in a circle in front of the coffee table, he pulled back, the sheen of moisture from their kiss on his lips.

  Holding her tight, he glanced around. “Where’s the bed in this place?”

  “That way,” she said, tossing her arm to point behind her, the movement bringing her nipple oh so close to his hot mouth.

  He sucked in a breath, his gaze going right to the tight bud. With a low growl, his lips closed around her, his tongue laving her, the suction shooting straight between her legs and making her squirm in his arms.

  How long had it been since a spark like this lit her from the inside out?

  Had it ever?

  Her nipple popped out of his mouth, damp, the pale skin of her breast pink where his stubble grated against her sensitive skin.

  He lowered his head and kissed the irritation. “I was rough with you.”

  She held his stubbled cheeks in her hands and tilted his face up to hers. “You were just right. Now take me to bed,” she said.

  His dark look faded away with her reassurance. “You’ve gotten awfully bossy in the past five minutes,” he said.

  She shrugged. “My lair, my rules.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  Locking her hands around the back of his neck, she smiled. “Does it make me shallow that I find it kinda hot that you can carry me without sounding like you’re about to heave up a lung?”

  A low laugh rumbled from deep in his chest as he lowered her down to the bed. Bracing his hands on either side of her head, he held himself over her. “You weigh what, one fifteen? You’ve set the bar kind of low, don’t you think?”

  “About one forty, but thanks,” she said, stretching her hands high above her head, relishing the coolness of the bedspread at her back, cooling her burning skin.

  His fingers went to his shirt, drawing her gaze.

  “Meaty,” he said with a sarcastic smile, the first button sliding open under his hands.

  She clenched the thighs that still remained wrapped around him, satisfied when she jerked him forward. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” she said.

  With two more buttons popped open, he whisked away his dress shirt, revealing muscular tan arms. “Do you see me complaining?”

  His hands went to his pants, and her gaze followed, landing on the bulge behind the fabric. “Uh, no. Nope. Not at all.”

  The zing of his zipper filled the air between them. “Nervous?” he asked, hooking his fingers over his waistband.

  “Hungry,” she murmured, never taking her eyes from him as he peeled away his pants, leaving him straining against a snug pair of boxer briefs.

  “Good answer,” he murmured.

  She pushed herself up and reached for him. Dancing her fingertips over his narrow hips, she tucked them in the waistband of his underwear as she slid them back to force the fabric down over the tight globes of his phenomenal ass.

  He let out a grunt and buried his fingers in her hair as he sprang free. The tugging against her scalp reached right through her, making her moan with the force of it.

  Two could play that game.

  Leaning forward, she pushed the fabric down his muscle-corded thighs, dusted with just the right amount of soft, dark hair.

  The glistening tip of him bounced titillatingly close to her mouth. She temporarily resisted the urge to lave the head with her tongue so she could make sure his eyes were on hers for when she finally sucked him into her mouth.

  “You paying attention?” she asked in a flirty voice, her gaze locked on his as she rubbed her cheek along the side of his hard length.

  “A ninety-year-old woman could unicycle past me with a lemur on her shoulder, pasties on her tits, eating a corn dog right now, and I wouldn’t even flinch,” he said.

  She tried to keep her focus, she really did, but he made the ridiculous statement in such a serious tone that she dissolved into a fit of belly laughter, the kind that had all sorts of lady bits shaking uncontrollably, tears springing to her eyes, and her lungs wheezing.

  She slapped a hand on her thigh as the giggles subsided and went to wipe her cheeks when she realized that the only reason she hadn’t fallen over on the bed was because she’d grabbed on to him to keep herself upright.

  Specifically, his dick.

  “Oh. My. God. I am so sorry,” she said, swallowing a nervous laugh and letting him go. Mortification filled her from head to toe, leaving her face burning.

  This right here is why you make sure you have somewhat regular sexy times. So this kind of shit didn’t happen. What the hell was this guy doing here with her...and how long would he stay in the wake of her anchoring herself with his hard-on?

  He, on the other hand, looked like he knew just what he was doing.

  How long had it been for him? Did it even matter? He looked like a guy who would know just what to do in the bedroom whether it had been six months or five years.

  Guessing him to be somewhere in his thirties, despite his rules about one-night stands, he’d likely had a serious relationship or two under his belt with plenty of regular intervals of sex included.

  Because seriously, who the hell could look at this guy and not want to strip him down and climb all over him with his swoon-worthy looks, alluring smile, and strong, solid body?

  He took her hand right back and wrapped it around his velvety skin. “Don’t be sorry. We’re having fun. Besides, I love your laugh,” he said, his voice dripping with playfulness and heat.

  What was it about a guy and the word love slipping from his lips? Not that he directed it at her. That would be ridiculous. Still, hearing him say it had her heart tripping over the way his deep voice sounded and the way his lips moved. “Did I hurt you?” she asked, stealing a glance at the appendage in question.

  “God no,” he said with a gruff laugh. “As a matter of fact, I’m waiting to see what you do next.”

  “Hmmm.” Unlocking her legs, she lowered her toes to the floor and scooted to the very edge of the bed, pressing every last bit of skin she could against his thighs.

  The idea of tasting him still intrigued her, but something else, something a bit more torturous and slow tempted her.

  With her eyes on his, she leaned in oh so slowly, and right before her lips met the sensitive skin of the base of his dick, she turned her head ever so slightly and pressed her lips to his inner thigh, her cheek grazing his balls.

  His mouth pinched with
tension before his lips parted on a hiss.

  She did it again, this time on the other side, and smiled at his lusty grunt.

  “Nikki,” he growled.

  “Shhhh,” she said against him before pressing the flat of her tongue on the underside of him and dragging it up the hard, hot length in her hands. The salty tip hit her tongue, and she sucked him between her lips.

  Well, as much as she could. She still had a few inches that she couldn’t begin to imagine fitting in her mouth and instead used her hand to work him back and forth in time with her lips and tongue.

  She could stay here for a while. Tasting him, enjoying the ridges of him as they dragged against her tongue, the feel of his fist coiling even tighter against her scalp—snap!

  The elastic holding her mass of hair on top of her head popped, slapped against rigid stomach muscles dusted in dark hair, and fell onto his dick, before dangling over it.

  He snorted, grabbed the elastic, flicked it to the floor, and buried his hands in the strands as they cascaded over her shoulder.

  “Better,” he murmured, his hips flexing, leaving him pushing into her mouth, a look that could only be described as sexy desperation coming over his face.

  Over and over she licked and sucked, her head moving in a rhythm with his hips until he gently tugged at her hair, pulling her away from him.

  “My turn,” he said, lifting her right off the bed with his hands under her arms and tossing her onto the pile of pillows.

  A breathless laugh escaped as he crawled toward her, his hands going to the inside of her knees and opening her to his gaze.

  He wiggled his eyebrows at her, his teeth biting into his lip, and his face disappeared between her thighs.

  Heat surged through her blood, leaving every last inch of her skin tingling as his warm, wet, absolutely delicious tongue dragged along her slit with demanding pressure.

  He nuzzled and nipped, increasing the pace, while her skin sizzled and broke out with a sheen of sweat.

  Pressure built, filling her to the brink. On the verge of pain if something didn’t give, she thrashed against the pillows, twisting her hips and lifting them against his mouth, searching for relief.