Addicted_A Good Girl Bad Boy Rockstar Romance

by Zoey Oliver

  He was the most handsome man Ayla had ever seen.

  “Do you have a room here?” Mick asked. Ayla shook her head and they reached the exit doors to a short corridor which emptied into the parking garage.

  Ayla was buzzed, and they were both lust-drunk. The blood boiling in their bodies robbed them of the rationality to slow down; to ask for names or to do anything they’d normally do. They were on fire; consumed by desire. Both so horny that it hurt.

  Mick didn’t know where he was going, exactly, just that he needed to be alone with this girl, posthaste.

  They crossed the garage and stepped through the doors and into a stairwell. Mick led them up two flights of stairs. He peered through and noticed that they were on the roof level. It was nearly empty.

  He pulled Ayla through the door and out into the cooling night air. The dazzling neon lights of the Strip stretched in both directions.

  They walked to the Strip side and he stood behind her. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and he kissed the sides and back of her neck. When his teeth scraped against the tender flesh, it sent chills down her spine. Ayla whimpered and writhed for him as he held her. She took his large hand and placed it on her breast, which he enveloped and kneaded through the dress. The breath caught in her throat as she felt his erection pressing squarely between the cheeks of her ass.

  So fucking close to where she needed it. She was soaked.

  Mick felt her begin to grind back against him and, encouraged by her response, his hands began to explore her glorious body.

  He alternated between her breasts, letting his free hand slide down Ayla’s stomach, caressing her sides and reaching down to her inner thighs.

  She could smell her own arousal; it was thick and unmistakable. Her face burned hot; she was having what seemed like an out of body experience. Her mind abandoned her, replaced by a consuming need to get fucked. To be bred. To be used by this man for his pleasure.

  “I need it so bad,” she gasped, hoarsely as he groped and ground himself against her.

  Mick straightened up and looked around. In Las Vegas, there are cameras everywhere. He didn’t necessarily mind being seen; he just didn’t want to be interrupted.

  They were near a car, and if they moved about ten feet to their right, the camera would have only an obscured view of them. “Move this way,” he instructed, and he eased her shuffling form the required direction and distance.

  Ayla bent at the waist, leaning forward, ass thrust back.

  “Tell me what you want,” Mick commanded.

  “Just fuck me. Take me. I’ll do anything. I need it so bad.” She had surrendered wholly to her lust and to this grizzly bear of a man. She didn’t recognize herself or her voice. The desperate, gnawing ache was all she knew.

  Mick dropped to one knee behind her and let his hands slide up and down her legs. Her calves popped with a diamond shape thanks to the heels she wore, and the sight of it so close, coupled with the aphrodisiac aroma of her arousal made Mick’s cock swell against his belt.

  He leaned in and kissed the backs of Ayla’s legs, the spot just behind her knees sending shockwaves directly to her core.

  Mick’s hands slid up and down her sides as he kissed her legs. He gently guided her feet together with pressure on her ankles, and he reached inside her dress to divest her of her already ruined panties.

  Ayla’s mine reeled. This is really happening, she thought, trying to focus on the lights of the sign at the Venetian down the street through her hazy eyes.

  Once Mick had assisted her in stepping out of her panties, he coaxed her legs wide apart and pressed down on the small of her back and lifted her hips, positioning her exactly how he wanted her.

  He watched a single droplet of her honey slide down the inside of her right thigh, and Mick leaned in to catch it on the tip of his tongue. Ayla moaned as his tongue traveled slowly up her inner thigh, tracing the path of the rivulet of Ayla’s most precious fluid to its source.

  Ayla shivered as she felt his tongue, and lips, working their way up and in, closer and closer to the boiling cauldron between her legs. Far below, between buildings, she could see a sliver of the street, brake lights on cars and groups of people walking, indistinguishable from one another over the distance.

  She focused on them and tried to relax. Her fight or flight response was screaming somewhere in the back of her psyche, but her, “I want to get fucked so badly; every molecule of my body needs an orgasm more than it ever has in my entire life” dial had been turned up past 10 to 1,000, stifling her good sense and typically boring, cautious approach to life.

  When Mick’s tongue finally reached her sexual vault, slowly covering her opening with a long, luxurious lick, she stiffened and bit down on her forearm to stifle a scream.

  Mick lapped at her pussy, savoring the flavor of her need. His hands circled her thighs, palms softly caressing her legs as Ayla’s hips softly rolled and bucked back against his handsome face.

  She was being worshipped by his mouth, slow, passionate swirls of decadent ecstasy. She found herself making guttural, hedonistic sounds of satisfaction from a place she didn’t know she had; rutting herself on him.

  Mick’s mouth had coaxed her open, and now he was inside her, probing, thrusting in deeper and deeper. She could feel his nose between the cheeks of her ass, bumping up against her most private place each time he went deeper with his tongue. Goosebumps covered her flesh.

  As her climax drew near, Ayla even reached back with her hand to find the back of his head, pulling him in tighter so that no mistake would be made in the approach to her orgasm.

  She needed to come more than she needed to breathe.

  Mick felt the urgency in her hand, clutching at his head, tangled in his hair, and he consumed her, redoubling his efforts to reach her center.

  All her muscle tensed and she undulated like a snake, her body gone liquid as she came greedily, wantonly smothering his face.

  The eruption did nothing to dissuade him; rather it inspired him to extend and intensify Ayla’s pleasure. He took hold of her hips and pulled her back, French kissing her sex throughout the climax, as it rolled from one into an immediate second.

  Her knees buckled, but he was there to help her maintain her balance, lifting her gently back into position. She looked down and back, at her own right leg and behind, and Ayla watched him rise to his feet, the stranger’s brown pants pooling around his shoes, followed by his black boxer briefs.

  Her insides were still twitching with post-orgasmic contractions when Mick entered her. The silken heat of her body stretched to envelop his powerful cock, causing Ayla to yelp as she adjusted to the fullness.

  He slid in slowly, once, twice, then on the third thrust he went fast and hard. Mick licked his lips, throbbing hard as he tasted her anew.

  There was nothing gentle about the way he pounded her; it was done by virtue of pure, animal instinct.

  Mick Merryweather fucked her like some great beast who had selected the female in the jungle that would sire him the best offspring. He chose her, separated her from the pack, and took her. He bent her body to his will and claimed her. She wanted it, craved it, but ultimately her desires were secondary to his. To his cock. He needed to fuck her, and that was that.

  Ayla was a limp, sweaty, aching ragdoll. The world around her was out of focus and irrelevant. All that mattered was a place deep inside her that was being battered by her lover’s long, thick cock. His hands held her hips in place, pulling back as he thrust forward, his cock punishing her.

  Ecstasy shattered her, orgasms overwhelming Ayla Murray in a way she’d never known or dreamt of. Her head hung in complete sexual submission to the powerhouse who was fucking her, and she hissed encouragement at him.

  “Never. Stop. Fucking. Me!”

  Mick certainly didn’t want to, but the way her inside clutched at him and massaged his shaft every time she climaxed was driving him inevitably toward his own orgasm. He’d never felt anything like the way sh
e clung to him; the tight grip of her young, clenching pussy around his cock.

  He was helpless to resist what her body was urging him to do. Her voice begged him to keep going, to pound and pound her delicious body, but her body sent a different message. A clear, primal desire to receive him fully; for him to cement their bond by releasing inside of her. Becoming part of her.

  Mick’s thrusts became jarring, a runaway freight train slamming into her again and again. The breathless groans he made were the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. As she neared the pinnacle again, she felt the first jets of him emptying himself into her. His orgasm triggered her most powerful climax yet, and they quaked, pulsed, and flexed together, their hearts jackhammering as one.

  He leaned over her, arms extended past her shoulders, his hands landing atop hers. He was still inside her, gently thrusting, his orgasm slowly subsiding.

  Ayla felt his kisses on the back of her neck between his ragged breaths. Her entire body felt like a raw, open nerve ending. She needed to be very still as she recovered. A trickle of sweat rolled down her left cheek.

  A feeling of bliss like she’d never known washed over her.

  She turned her head just enough to catch his eye, and both of them broke into silly grins and laughter. He squeezed her hands and eased himself deeply back inside, as far as she could, and felt him throb powerfully. Each time Mick’s thick cock did that, she squirmed and whimpered. From the inside out, he owned her.

  She was already hopelessly addicted to his body.

  He withdrew and she stretched like a cat and turned, straightening her dress before standing up on tiptoes to kiss the man who’d just gifted her with ecstasy beyond her wildest dreams. The kiss he gave her was rich and full. When it broke, they just stared into one another’s eyes.

  Mick leaned down and rested his forehead gently against Ayla’s. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, do you know that?” he asked.

  Ayla blushed and struggled to meet his gaze. “That…wow. That was…”

  Mick finished the sentence for her. “Bloody incredible, by my estimation. I don’t have the words…”

  Ayla started to reply, but as her lips began to move, they became aware of voices, people approaching from the direction of the elevators.

  Mick reached down and pulled up his briefs and pants, forcing his still-half-hard cock into a position where his arousal wouldn’t be quite so obvious. Ayla picked up her panties and shoved them into the small purse she’d had slung over her shoulder. They were still composing themselves when flashlight beams illuminated the spot where they stood.

  “Oh my God! Are you okay?”

  The voice belonged to Ayla’s best friend, Tara.

  Ayla was struck dumb by surprise. Tara, Natalie, and three members of the hotel’s security team stood staring at Mick and Ayla.

  “I’m…” Ayla was panicked.

  “You’re under age. Just like your friends.” The oldest of the security guards said, stepping forward. “You can’t be here.”

  Ayla look at Mick, then at Tara, and finally at the security man. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

  Mick looked confused.

  “Tara, I’m fine,” she assured her friend, who was eyeing Mick suspiciously.

  “Well, we have to go,” Natalie said. “They’re kicking us out. Just kicking us out. We have to go before they change their minds.”

  “If you’re caught in the casino, we call the police,” the security captain said. He turned his attention to Mick. “We have some questions for you, if you’ll just come with us.”

  “What’s this all about?” Mick asked. “Under age?”

  “Don’t worry, stud, she’s eighteen. But whatever her age, and yeah, this is Las Vegas, you still can’t have sex on the roof of the parking structure.”

  The word “sex” made Ayla cringe. It made Tara stare in slack-jawed shock. Mick scratched his head and shrugged. “Victimless crime, eh mate?”

  A second security guard spoke up. “We can let that go by escorting you off property. You assaulted two of our patrons in Scald, so we need to talk about that.”

  “Hush, Bobby,” the captain said, cutting off his junior officer. “You three skedaddle. And don’t come back until you’re twenty-one. This was your one free pass.”

  Natalie took Tara’s hand and reached for Ayla’s, pulling her away from Mick. “Let’s go, girl.”

  Ayla paused, but saw the wisdom in taking the route that didn’t include getting arrested or having her parents receive a phone call from hotel security. They’d be totally mortified. She looked back at Mick longingly, and he gave her a nod. Fuck, he was handsome.

  After just a few steps, Ayla could feel everything Mick had left inside her shifting around, threatening to spill out. She had the most wonderful ache deep inside.

  As soon as the elevator doors closed, Tara began to speak so quickly neither Natalie nor Ayla could understand a word.

  “SpillthebeansyoubitchwhowasthatwhatdidyoudoohmygodareyoukidingmeIamfreakingouthere!”

  Natalie intervened. “T, slow the hell down! Look at her. You can tell what she did just by looking at her! Nobody has a glow like that unless…Well, you know. But anyway, who was he? Some model or something?”

  Ayla looked at the floor of the elevator, feeling bashful. “I…I don’t know who he is.”

  “What?” Tara and Natalie said in unison. The elevator stopped at their floor of the garage, but Natalie put her thumb on the “close doors” button and held it.

  “These weird guys were hitting on me. You two had disappeared, and these guys came out of nowhere and were being really aggressive…”

  “He has a friend?” Tara asked. “Hello!”

  “No,” Ayla corrected. “Two other guys. And then he stepped in and told me they had put something in my drink. Tried to roofie me, or whatever, you know?”

  Natalie nodded.

  “He saved me from them, but they were pissed and they both tried to jump him. But he kicked their asses.” Natalie and Tara stood at rapt attention. “Then we wound up on the dance floor, and he started kissing me. And I mean, really kissing me. Next thing I know, we’re up here on the roof, and…”

  “What’s his name?” Natalie asked.

  “Shit,” Ayla replied. “I have no idea.”

  Tara was apoplectic. “What do you mean? You got his number, right?”

  “Not exactly,” Ayla confessed.

  “I’m totally lost,” Natalie replied. “You just met this guy, who’s, hey, hats off to you, he’s like, mega-hot, but how do you not know his name?”

  “It all just, sort of, you know happened? I guess?” Ayla said. She was starting to have regrets. Big ones. As fantastic as the sex was, she couldn’t blame it on being drunk. She hadn’t had that much to drink. Was the whole thing a set up?

  And they hadn’t used any protection. How could she be so stupid?

  “Shit,” Ayla stated, plainly.

  “What?” Tara asked, putting her hand on her best friend’s shoulder.

  “I’m not supposed to start for,” Ayla started counting backwards in her head, assisted by her fingers. “Another two weeks, give or take. Fifteen days. I’m right in the middle of my cycle.”

  Natalie’s face was ashen. “Yeah, but you used…wait a minute, you didn’t use anything?”

  Ayla slowly shook her head.

  “There’s no way,” Tara interjected. “My cousin and her husband have been trying, and I mean really trying to have a baby for forever now. Seriously, one time isn’t going to get you preggers. No way.”

  “It only takes one time, you idiot,” Natalie said. “Did he like, pull out or anything? He for sure finished inside you?”

  Ayla nodded. Her eyes became wet with tears. “Stupid. So, so stupid. Ugh! What was I thinking? Yes, he finished inside me. Like, a lot.”

  “Morning after pill,” Natalie said, matter-of-factly. “We’ll go get you one first thing. That’s what it’s for. Everybody makes mis
takes.”

  Ayla was crying, and both friends embraced her. “One to ten, Ayla, how was he?” Tara asked.

  “One million,” Ayla replied.

  Chapter 6

  Security escorted Mick Merryweather to an office just off the main casino floor. Once he explained who he was, who he worked for, and what had happened to cause the scuffle, the captain released him without notifying local law enforcement.

  On his way out, he paused to ask about the beautiful stranger with whom he’d enjoyed the evening. He could still taste her faintly.

  “Those girls were all eighteen. This was a ‘high school graduation party,’ of sorts, I guess. When two of them lost their friend, the one you were with, they asked one of my officers to help them find her. They were so panicked they confessed about being under 21. We reviewed the surveillance and watched the two of you go to the parking garage, and we watched you exit out onto the roof. No vehicles left, so we figured you must be in some sort of blind spot. Happens more often than you might think.”

  Mick started to ask for a name, any one of their names, but he reconsidered. Eighteen? Thank God she was eighteen, but still. That was the sort of scandal he, and Watterson Gaming, didn’t need.

  Better to drop the entire thing. No matter how indescribably good she looked, and felt. He was almost old enough to be her father.

  “How old do you think he was?” Tara asked. She seemed more obsessed with the mystery man than even Ayla was, as they lay on the sectional in Ayla’s living room late the next morning.

  “I have no idea,” Ayla answered. Maybe thirty?”

  “You are so bad! Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” Tara teased.

  “I think he might be from England or Australia or something. He had a little accent.”

  “Stop. Stop it right now. Just how jealous do you want to make me?”

  “I know it’s dumb, and I know there’s no way in the world that I’d know yet, but I think I am,” Ayla said. “Pregnant that is. Shit.”