Taming His Rockstar

by Morgan, Samantha

  “Fuck,” he swears, his legs spasming under me. “Honey, you’ll need to stop doing that if you want me to be in you when I come.”

  I respond to that by raking my fingers over his balls before I tug again and slurp at his erection. My spit coats every inch of it, and it makes it easy for my hand around the base to stroke him. I can feel the veins on his cock throbbing in my mouth, and I swear it’s like his cock becomes ever harder every time I suck. I shift and suddenly feel my bare pussy lying against his thigh. I immediately begin to ride him as I suck, moaning silently against his cock. I lick his balls and love the way he flinches. I wish I had the self-control he has to hold back his pleasure the way he has done mine. But I can’t take it any longer. Pushing myself up, I move above him, and with my gaze on his, I lower myself onto the stiff length of his erection.

  I moan as I settle around him but begin to ride him immediately. Jake’s hands move to my hips, and he holds me as I move above him. His cock throbs deep inside me, and I throw my head back as I ride him harder and faster, chasing my orgasm. My hips rise and fall as I take him so deep inside me it feels like he’s nudging at my womb. I suddenly feel him lift me up as he begins to drive himself up to meet me. If what I was feeling was pleasure, this is ecstasy. Sweat flows off my body, drips between my breasts as they slap against my body. His strokes begin to speed up even as I move faster above him. I know I begin to talk, mention his name, and beg him for something. It’s hard to tell. My brain is pretty much mush at this point. But I know the instant I come. My whole body locks around him as I shudder in rapturous bliss. A few seconds later, Jake thrusts into me one final time, and I hear him make guttural sounds as his cock pulses inside me, shooting jets of his release. And all through it, we never take our eyes off each other.

  I wake the next morning and frown when I smell something strange. And sure enough, when I manage to find my panties and shrug on one of his T-shirts, I find him in the kitchen making waffles.

  Chapter 17

  “What are we doing here?” Jane asks when I pull her into the art gallery.

  “I’m thinking of buying a few paintings for the house.” I turn around, deciding that the gallery looks nice enough. Nice location, nice lighting, and the pieces on display look nice enough. There are a few people admiring the paintings on the walls, and I move to the nearest one, trying to read the small signature scribbled at the bottom of it.

  Jane rolls her eyes at me. “If you want paintings, call Franco and have him buy it for you. Or you want to admit you’re here to buy Jake’s paintings?”

  “And what if I am?” I ask, moving to the next painting. “I know you wouldn’t have agreed to come if I told you.”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t have agreed to come. This is not proper fling behavior.”

  I turn to her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean do you know if he would like you buying one of his paintings, or if he is one of those guy who thinks you’re showing off because you’ve got more money than him? You know how guys can get. Also, you’re supposed to be having an affair. That means you make plans to meet, fuck each other’s brains out, and then say bye until the next time. This” — she waves at the gallery — “is not proper fling behavior. Except you’re looking for more than a fling.”

  “I’m not,” I quickly state.

  “Why not?”

  Now I’m confused. “Are you for or against this? I swear I can’t tell. One minute you’re biting my head off for trying to be friends with the guy, the next minute you’re asking why I don’t want to be friends. What side are you on?”

  “Yours,” Jane replies immediately. She sighs and moves closer to me. “Sorry. It’s just you don’t seem to know what you want, and I don’t want you to keep lying to yourself and then get hurt when things go south.”

  “You mean you don’t want me to fall in love with him, so I don’t get heartbroken when this . . . fling ends.” I smile at her. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  I recognize it the moment I see it. Not, it’s them. Three paintings, tucked at the other end of the gallery. I grab Jane’s hand and pull her toward them. And sure enough, right at the bottom, I saw the same signature scrawled across the painting in Jake’s apartment.

  “What do you think?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. It looks nice.”

  “Are you kidding?” I ask as I stare at the painting. It’s a landscape painting of what looks like a desert. “It looks absolutely stunning.”

  “Oh God, it’s too late now.” Jane groans.

  I don’t know what she means. I look around to get the attention of any of the salespeople in the gallery. I finally get one, and he walks toward me.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Richard, and . . .” He does a double take when he recognizes me. “I know you. My daughters used to have pictures of you hanging on their walls. I got them tickets for your show two years ago.”

  “Hope they enjoyed the show?” I ask with a smile.

  “I figured they did since they didn’t stop talking about it for two weeks.” He laughs. “Now, how can I help you ladies?” he asks, nodding to Jane who just stands behind me.

  “I’d like to buy these paintings.” I point at the three paintings. “Can you wrap them up for me?”

  He looks a little surprised but nods and waves over an assistant.

  “I take it you know the artist?”

  I nod. “A little. I saw one of his works in a friend of mine’s place and liked it.”

  “Yeah, Jake is one of our popular artists. I don’t know, maybe this will finally push him to take this art thing seriously.”

  “What?”

  Richard turns around from helping the assistant wrap the paintings. “Well, he brings in one or two paintings every few months even though I told him I can take more. I remember when we had his show. We sold almost every painting of his, and I talked to him about building on that initial buzz. You know, with the social media and all this other stuff these new artists use to get their work out there. Jake refused. He likes to play the role of the tortured artist all too well.”

  Imagining Jake playing a tortured artist sounds funny to me. So funny I chortle and have to use a hand to cover my mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize. “It’s just seeing Jake as a tortured artist.”

  “So, you do know him personally.”

  “Yeah, I met him at the club where he works,” I add, wondering if I’m saying too much.

  “Like I said, he plays at the tortured artist all too well. Maybe selling all three paintings in one day will make him realize he needs to take this seriously.”

  I think of the man who talked about leaving college to go to art school, remembering the look in his eyes when he talked about everyone not believing in his dream and want to tell this man Jake takes his art seriously. Then I remember I’m Jake’s fling. Not his girlfriend or mother. So, I hold my peace as the paintings are wrapped and hand over my credit card to Richard. Together, we carry them to the car, and after taking a picture with Richard he says he wants to use score points with his daughter, Jane and I get into the car.

  “Now that we’re done with that, how about we do something I want to do? You know, especially since I’ll be flying back tomorrow.”

  “Come on,” I groan. “You know I don’t like to think about that. Can you stay?”

  “Sorry, Katie, but I’ve got children and a husband to get back to.” She pulls her seatbelt out and buckles it. “Besides, I’ll be back in two weeks for the charity concert. Unlike you, I don’t have a stud to take care of me at night.”

  I smile when I hear her call Jake a stud. “He does take care of me every night. Did I tell you he made waffles for me?”

  “Several times.” Jane glares playfully at me. “In fact, I think you’re just rubbing it in my face.”

  “It’s just I’ve never rocked a guy’s world so hard he made me waffles in the morning.” I smile. “I wonder what else he can cook?”

&
nbsp; I can feel Jane’s eyes on me and turn around to find her staring at me strangely. “What is it?”

  “It’s just you sound so happy I’m feeling bad I didn’t make you do this a long time ago.” She nods when I look doubtful. “I’m serious. You seem really happy, and I don’t think it’s just the sex.”

  “You mean the phenomenal sex,” I correct her with a giggle. I put on my blinker as I approach a turn and stop for the car in front of me to pass before I turn. “Trust me, I now get why you’re always giddy with Travis. Have I told you it used to annoy me whenever I saw you after you guys have sex?”

  “Many times,” she replies. “Gotta admit, I kinda understand why now that you’re the one getting sex and I’m left alone with those stupid toys.”

  I chuckle as I drive.

  “And the sex is the only thing you like about him?”

  “Only thing?” I frown. “Of course not. He’s funny and smart and cool.” I pause when I realize I’m laying the compliment on too thick. “But he’s also so bossy I swear it can be annoying sometimes. But in a cute way. And he always thinks he’s right, and I hate that he usually ends up being right most of the time.”

  “Travis doesn’t know how to stack the dishwasher. I don’t care?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I thought we’re talking about annoying things our guys do but we love them for it anyway.”

  “I don’t love Jake.”

  “Sure you don’t. You talk about him all the time, spend money on him, and think his being annoying is cute. Hate to break it to you, but you’re falling in love with him.”

  I’m quiet as I think about what she says. “I don’t love him. I like him, maybe as a friend I have amazing sex with. But I’m not in love with him. We both agreed, this is just going to be a fling, and I’ve not forgotten that. Besides, he’s not the kind of guy I see myself being in a relationship with.”

  “And what kind of guy do you see yourself being in a relationship with?”

  “I don’t know. I just know it’s not him.” I grin at her. “I understand you’re trying to look out for me, but trust me when I say I’m fine.”

  “All right. Just know I’m here for you.”

  I bump her shoulder. “Like you have a choice about that.”

  “Where are we going?” she asks, looking out the window.

  “I thought you said we should do something you want to do?”

  “Yeah?” she turns back to look at me.

  “So I’m taking us shopping,” I reply, smiling when I see her grin at me.

  “Gotta admit, Katie, you know me so well.”

  “Of course I do. And don’t worry, no guy, not even sexy ones with cute smiles, can take me away from you.”

  We both burst out laughing as I pull into a parking space. Then together we go to do damage to several of my credit cards.

  Chapter 18

  I drive Jane to the airport the next morning and spent the rest of the day playing with Kent and missing my friend. Three days later, I’m in the living room watching TV when my phone rings. I can barely contain my joy when I see Jake’s face on the phone. I gave him my number the last time I was over at his place and collected him, told him it was so I could call him anytime I wanted to come over. Which was like every night ever since, but every time I picked up the phone to call him, I ended up dropping it down. Maybe he was busy, I told myself.

  “Jake . . .”

  “So, you do have my number?” he says, and I realize how much I’ve missed hearing his voice. Especially when he sounds all annoyed and bothered like he does right now.

  “Of course I do. Are you mad that I didn’t call?”

  “Not mad, just frustrated.”

  “You mean sexually frustrated?”

  “Sure, you can call it that.”

  I giggle. “Why? With all those girls I see slobbering over you in the club, I can’t believe you can ever be frustrated.”

  I can feel the smile enter his voice, picture him leaning back as he always does when he’s about to be especially arrogant.

  “Collected a couple of numbers, got a couple of nudges. Just thought I’d wait for you to get tired and call.”

  “I’ve got a drawer full of toys, Jake,” I tease him right back. “I’m not getting tired anytime soon.”

  For a few seconds, I hear nothing but him breathing.

  “You gave yourself an orgasm without me?” he asks after some time, and this time he sounds really angry.

  “What? Do I need your permission to get myself off, or am I only allowed to come with your dick in me?”

  I have to admit, I’m just slightly pissed at his insinuation.

  “I don’t mind you using the toys. What I mind is you making yourself come without me hearing you moan as I tell you how I would like you to touch yourself. Not fair, Kitty.”

  I go from annoyed to hot in a split second. “What?” I ask in a hushed whisper.

  “You had an orgasm without me. Yeah, I think I need to punish you for that.”

  “Come on,” I growl. “I’ll get the damn vibrator right now, and you can hear me moan.”

  “Nah. Don’t worry, I’ll think of a suitable punishment for you later. How was your day?”

  The switch from erotic to normal makes me frustrated, and I know Jake would just love to know that he gets me all hot and bothered. So, I force myself to forget how much I’d love to be having phone sex with him right at that moment.

  “Fine.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing much. Played around the house with Kent. Tried to get started on ideas for my new album.”

  “Yeah, and how was that?”

  “Still a work in progress. To be honest, I’m not really in the mood. So, I abandoned that to watch funny videos on YouTube.”

  “Take it now that Jane’s gone, you’re missing her.”

  “Yes. Sometimes, I forget exactly how boring life is when she is not around. I’m going to see Heather this weekend and catch up with the rest of the squad.”

  “Heather owns the café, right?”

  I’m surprised he was listening all the time I talked about myself to make conversation, and I begin to wonder if maybe I talk about myself too much.

  “Yes, she is. How about you? What did you do today?”

  “Nothing much. Hit the gym, took a walk around my neighborhood, checked out how my paintings were doing. Turns out I have a real fan out there. Can you believe someone bought three of them?”

  I glance toward the staircase where I hung his paintings on the wall and wonder if he figured out I’m the one who bought them. I remember what Jane said about him maybe not liking the fact that I did it.

  “I can believe it. I mean, your work is amazing.”

  “And I was thinking I want to celebrate it. What do you say I grab a bottle of wine and come over?”

  “Okay.”

  “And then we— Wait, did you say okay?”

  I chuckle. “Yes, Jake. You can come over. When do you think you’ll get here?”

  “Say, half an hour? Have you eaten?”

  “No.”

  “Are you allergic to Chinese?”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know. Used to go out with a girl who was allergic to red meat. Imagine having to go through life without eating beef?”

  “I tried being a vegan once.”

  “And?”

  “I mistakenly ate Jane’s hamburger and realized I missed too much.” I hear him laugh and smile to myself. “To be honest, it’s one of my greatest regrets.”

  “I think the cow regrets it more than you do. I’ll be there with food and the wine. And Katie, I’ve got something for you.”

  The phone goes dead in my hand, leaving me to wonder what he meant by he has something for me. Then I remember the paintings on the wall and quickly run to take care of them before I have to answer some embarrassing questions.

  * * *

 
I’m waiting for him at the door and open it as soon as he climbs up the steps. I’m surprised when I see a large package in his hand along with a small bag.

  “What’s that?” I ask as he sets the large package against the wall and crouches down to greet Kent who seems to have taken an immediate liking.

  Not that I’m surprised by that. The dog is friendly with everyone he meets. Plus, this is Jake. I’m a human, and even I want to lick his face.

  “It’s Orgasm, the painting in my house you liked. I figure if you can buy three of my paintings, then maybe you can get one you actually like.”

  “So, you know.”

  “Someone just buys three of my paintings? Yeah, I figured something was wrong. Plus, Richard was just gushing about the celebrity who came to the museum recently but he couldn’t tell me who.”

  “Are you mad?”

  He looks up from the dog. “Mad? You bought three of my paintings. Why would I be mad?”

  “Jane said you may think I was, like, throwing my money around or something. Some men . . . people, tend to get jealous of that sort of thing.”

  “Some people are idiots.” He reaches into the gift bag and brings out a big dog treat shaped like a bone, waving it around for Kent before tossing it into the other room. When the dog runs to get it, he pushes himself up. “Look, I’m with you because I like you. You’re smart and funny and the sex is great. I like to think that is why you’re with me too. If that changes, you let me know, and I promise I’ll be out of your life like I was never here. You buying my work has nothing to do with that. I like to think you did it for the same reason why I buy your music. Because I like it.”

  “It is,” I say quickly. “I really like the paintings. I even got Jane to help me hang them.”

  “Good. Come on, let’s pour this wine and drink to me selling my paintings. And while we eat, we’ll talk about you getting off without me.”