Rock All Night (The Rock Star's Seduction #2)

by Olivia Thorne

  Derek pretty much duplicated that look to a T. “That was nothing. That’s just what I do.”

  ‘That’s just what I do’ was bad enough.

  But it was the look he gave me that enraged me.

  “That’s just what you DO?!”

  He frowned, like I was being totally unreasonable. “She totally acted like she didn’t know who I was!”

  “SO?!”

  “So… she knew. She was just playing hard to get, like she was all that.”

  I could not understand him. It was like he was spouting gibberish – his lips were moving, but pure stupidity was coming out.

  “…SO?!”

  “So I spit some game at her to let her know what’s what. Jesus, Kaitlyn – that’s what I am.”

  “What, an insecure man-whore who can’t bear that some chick doesn’t immediately fall all over herself to kiss your ass?”

  As soon as I said it, I was sorry.

  Not really sorry that I’d thought it. Just sorry that I’d said it out loud.

  But I wasn’t about to back off now.

  His expression – his whole demeanor – froze over. I could almost feel the ice form beneath my hand, under his leather jacket sleeve.

  “What, are you such a little girl that you can’t handle me talking to another woman?”

  “NO – I – that wasn’t just ‘talking’!”

  “It was to me. And if you can’t handle it, that’s your problem, because I’m not about to change who I am just to make you feel better about yourself.”

  And with that, he strode away, leaving me shocked and furious and alone, thinking, How the fuck did THAT just happen?! HE’S the bad guy here! How the hell did he just make ME the bad guy?!

  We didn’t say anything the rest of the day. The silence was positively Arctic.

  The rest of the band were obviously uncomfortable – Ryan especially, which I felt awful about for some reason.

  Scratch that: the rest of the band was obviously uncomfortable, except for Riley, who treated us as a walking punch line. Every other comment out of her was a variation on, “Ooooh, D and Blondie are fighting – what’d you do?”

  “What’d she do, D? Punch holes in your condoms? Is there gonna be a mini-D in nine months?

  “What’d he do, Blondie? You catch him in a hot tub with a buncha hookers and a package of hot dogs? Oh wait, that was last month…

  “What’d she do, D? Put her finger up your ass when you jizzed? Or not put her finger up your ass when you jizzed?

  “What’d he do, Blondie? Did he finally admit he’s gay as fuck?”

  Derek ignored her, so I did, too. (Even though some of what she said was pretty funny.)

  You know when adults told you as a kid, if another kid is bugging you, to ignore them and they’ll leave you alone?

  Those adults never met Riley.

  Despite the cold shoulder we gave to her parade of one-liners, our coldness to each other was ten times worse. For the first time since we’d first hooked up, we didn’t sleep together that night.

  We did in the morning – but it was more like hot, hate-fuck sex.

  But that’s another story.

  83

  I woke up the next morning in his bed, and for one blissful moment I wasn’t mad.

  I’d spent all day yesterday angry, had gone to bed angry, had lain in bed angry, and got angrier still when he fell asleep, obviously not bothered by what a colossal dick he’d been.

  So for a few seconds I was just like, Ummm… it’s morning… wait… wasn’t I mad about something?

  And BAM, just like that, I remembered it all, my adrenalin shot up, and I was angry again.

  I lay there for a long time formulating a big speech. I was going to start it out with You may THINK it’s okay to do certain things, but it’s not. If I really AM your girlfriend, then you can’t just do whatever the hell you want.

  And then I was going to go into a whole list of forbidden activities, listing why they were inappropriate, and what he should do instead.

  And, of course, because I knew he was going to make a big You can’t tell me what to do scene like the asshole he was, I had my one-two punch ready.

  Oh? You say you don’t WANT a girlfriend? Well, wish granted, asshole – you DON’T anymore.

  And then I was going to storm out of the bed, gather up my things, and get the fuck out.

  And he was going to come after me, apologizing, begging, getting down on his hands and knees –

  What if he DOESN’T do that? I thought.

  I didn’t really have an answer for that.

  So I just stuck to crafting the perfect comeback.

  And then he went and ruined it all by grabbing my boob.

  I was lying there, silently seething, when his hand reached out and flopped on my right breast.

  I was too surprised to say anything at first – I thought about looking over and seeing if it was intentional, or if he was still asleep – but then I felt the tip of his finger start lightly stroking me through the fabric of the t-shirt I’d worn to bed.

  Ohhh, that was INTENTIONAL, all right.

  But that thought came a few seconds after he started stroking me, because I was too shocked at first…

  …and because I was turned on.

  Let me be clear: I didn’t like being turned on. I was pissed off at myself for getting turned on. I was even more pissed off at him for turning me on.

  But I guess I had so much energy in my system – and some sort of electrical charge from the jealousy – that I responded right away. Much to my chagrin.

  My nipple almost immediately hardened, and I felt a hot, liquid caramel sensation down between my thighs.

  Unnnhhh.

  But he wasn’t getting none o’ that. After the way he’d treated me? No fuckin’ way, Jack. Unh-unh.

  I grabbed his wrist and sternly placed it back on the sheets.

  There were about ten seconds where I didn’t hear or feel anything else, so I figured he’d gotten the message.

  Until I felt his finger caressing the side of my breast. Softly. Slowly.

  I didn’t do anything because… well… I was kind of enjoying it.

  Especially when he reached the nipple again, and gave it just the veeery slightest pinch. Not too hard, just… unnnhh.

  Suddenly I felt the molten caramel in my thighs and belly, too, and it was like my entire body wanted to move the slightest bit as he tweaked my nipple, to follow the sensation, like he was guiding me towards him with the lightest of touches.

  And then I got hold of my senses.

  I grabbed his hand and flung it off me as hard as I could, like I was throwing a baseball, and turned over on my side, giving him my back.

  I lay like that, furious that he was trying to have sex – sex! – when he’d pissed me off so badly and obviously didn’t GIVE a fuck about my feelings at all –

  When I felt the tip of his finger softly touch my ass cheek and trace its way down the inside of my thigh.

  I was wearing panties, no shorts or pajama bottoms… so it was all bare skin that he touched.

  Holy shit.

  His finger, normally so rough, just barely grazed my skin – soft and sensual and gentle. His fingertip brushed against the cloth of my underwear, and I could feel the whisper of pressure through the fabric, caressing me down there, tickling the ridge of my lips.

  I was starting to get wet.

  DAMMIT!

  I reached back without looking at him, grabbed his hand, and threw it off my body again.

  Then I lay there for another thirty seconds, half hoping he would do it again – and angry at myself for wanting him to.

  Just when I thought he had given up, I felt something else tickle my thigh.

  Something satiny soft on the surface, but hard beneath, and blood-hot.

  Hint: it wasn’t a finger.

  I sucked in my breath as I felt his cock nestle against my thighs, hot and hard and alive. As soon as his skin t
ouched mine, it must have excited him more, because I felt his cock strain and press against me even harder, then slowly the pressure faded away until it was just this warm, hard, long, thick pressure pulsing next to my skin.

  It was hard to concentrate on how angry I was with that going on.

  Then he slowly, sloooowly slid my t-shirt up, the cloth tickling as it whispered over my skin, until my waist was exposed. He began to trace his finger over my skin, making long, soft, slow patterns down my lower back… then back up and around to my stomach, where his fingertip just barely brushed against me.

  Combine that slow, sensual pleasure with the heavy, hot throbbing of his cock resting against the back of my legs… and I wasn’t exactly able to think straight.

  His hand inched beneath my t-shirt, slowly moving across my ribcage, until it was blocked by my arm.

  I thought about clamping down and not letting him go any further…

  …but I wanted him to go further.

  So I shifted my arm out in front of me.

  I didn’t say a word, but I might as well have shouted, Go ahead.

  His fingers paused, then continued their way beneath my shirt until they found the swell of my right breast. He slowly brushed the underside, his rough fingertips so gentle… and then softly slid up over the front, and found my nipple.

  As soon as he did, I felt his cock harden and strain against the back of my thighs, which turned me on even more.

  He began to touch my nipple softly, slowly, making it harder with every circle of his fingertip. My nipple ached, I was so turned on.

  And then I felt his thumb and forefinger gently take the tip between them, and just barely squeeze.

  At the same time, he must have shifted his hips, because I felt the hot, soft, swollen head of his cock press up against my underwear, almost parting my lips beneath the fabric.

  I wanted to moan, I wanted him inside me so badly.

  But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  Suddenly I felt my hair pull away from my neck, followed by his hot breath tickling across my skin. I tensed, waiting for what I wanted so badly – and then I felt his lips touch the nape of my neck, soft little kisses sending shivers of pleasure up and down my back. The scruff of his early morning whiskers prickled against my skin in a delicious contrast to his soft, warm lips.

  He moved up my neck, kissing, occasionally licking until he reached my ear, and I could hear his breath like a sigh, so soft and quiet, but GOD it was hot. He began to slowly kiss the edge of my ear, moving down to my earlobe, the tip of his warm tongue dancing over my skin, followed by another kiss.

  All the while he was still playing with my chest, his large, strong hand having moved to my other nipple, caressing, circling, cupping my breast in the palm of his hand.

  AND his cock was pressing harder between my legs – the gorgeous length against my skin, the swollen girth of him forcing its way between my thighs, his large, thick head teasing and pushing and straining against my underwear, actually forcing himself just a few millimeters inside my pussy but still behind the fabric, like a wild animal pressing against a hanging cloth, letting you know at any moment it could force its way inside, but choosing not to.

  I was furious with him –

  And I was more turned on than I had ever been in my life.

  I hated him –

  And I wanted him inside me so badly I thought I might die if I didn’t get it.

  As he continued to kiss my ear, his hand withdrew from under my shirt… glided down my front… circled around to my ass… and slowly pressed between my thighs, raising my leg.

  I let him do it.

  My right foot stayed on the bed, so that my right leg bent at the knee and formed a triangle.

  Which meant there was plenty of room for him between my legs to do whatever he wanted.

  Apparently what he wanted to do first was touch me, because his fingers brushed against my underwear, slowly massaging my lips, tickling me through the soaked cloth.

  I moaned as he slid one finger under my panties and began to glide across my soaked skin, massaging me, teasing me, pleasing me, making me shiver and quake.

  Then his finger slowly slid the bottom of my panties aside.

  He was going to enter me from behind, without even taking off my underwear.

  For some reason, I found that incredibly fucking hot.

  I felt the soft, satiny tip of his head press against my wet lips –

  “Condom,” I managed to choke out from my haze of desire.

  He groaned playfully, and I felt his hand and cock withdraw. The bed vibrated, like he was stretching his body across it – and then I heard the telltale crinkling of the paper as it tore. Fifteen seconds later I felt the wet, lubed surface press back into place – not as hot as his bare skin, but at least I felt safe enough to keep going.

  His body pressed against mine, and I felt the hard ridges of his muscles against my back. His chest, his abs, his entire body.

  Unnnnhhh.

  Still… there was part of me that just wouldn’t let go.

  “I’m still mad at you,” I whispered angrily.

  “I know,” he chuckled in my ear… and then he slid inside me.

  84

  Jesus it was good.

  I was so turned on that I felt swollen down there… but I was soaked. Dripping.

  He felt bigger than I’d ever felt him before. Thicker. Just the sheer size of him pressed firmly up against the inside of me… but with the lube from the condom, and my own juices, he slid inside easily, all the way.

  I groaned with pleasure as he rocked back and forth, his entire length slowly easing up inside me, filling me completely.

  His hand reached around to my breasts again – but this time he was more forceful.

  Hungrier.

  He clutched at my left boob, his fingertips pinching my nipple harder than before, and he growled in my ear, low and feral and full of desire.

  I felt his hips draw back from my ass, and his cock slid almost all the way out of me – just his head teasing me, threatening to slip out – and then his cock plunged back inside and his hips pressed firmly against my ass.

  He slid his left arm underneath me so that I was lying on my side, wrapped in his arms. He hiked up my t-shirt above my breasts, and I lifted my arms so he could pull it all the way off me – but he didn’t. He left the t-shirt in place, but with my boobs exposed, and suddenly he was manhandling me, his massive hands pawing at my breasts, fondling me, cupping me, clutching me as his hips rocked back and forth, the hard muscles of his lower abs slapping my ass, driving his cock deep inside me, all the while kissing my ear, growling, groaning, and making me hotter and wetter.

  I guess it was kind of trashy to be fucking with my underwear and t-shirt on, but I didn’t care – I loved it. All I gave a damn about was how incredibly turned on I was, how big and thick he felt inside me, how strong his hands felt as they pressed against my breasts, how hard his body was slapping against my ass, and how good he was fucking me.

  I was dimly aware that I was making little high-pitched “Unh – unh – unh” noises, but I was beyond caring. I think it was because of the angle he was at, entering me from behind. With every thrust, the head of his cock was hitting my spot, my G-spot, some damn spot that felt so good and liquid-hot and amazing that I just kept getting higher and higher, and wetter and wetter, and louder and louder.

  Suddenly he rolled onto his back and carried me along with him. I was no longer on my left side anymore, but lying on my back on top of his firm, muscled body as he clutched at my breasts and pinched my nipples and growled in my ear and kept fucking me like a beast, his cock filling me up and pounding away hard and thick and amazing as it stroked again and again over that amazing spot, my ecstasy getting higher and higher, and a pressure building inside me, kind of feeling like I had to pee a little, then a little more, a little more urgent, but I didn’t want to stop, I didn’t want to quit, because I was getting so close
, I was getting so close to coming, I was right there, oh God I was going over, I was coming as he continued to thrust and rock and slam up inside me, rubbing over my spot –

  And suddenly I lost all control, and I felt this kind of goosh as I came, and as I was screaming and my whole body was racked with waves of pleasure, I felt this panic as a little voice whispered in my head, Holy shit, did I just pee myself?

  Then I realized that, no, it wasn’t pee.

  I’d heard about it happening to other women, but I had never, ever thought it would happen to me.

  It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to freak me out.

  The little voice went into overdrive – though it was trying to reassure me: You still have your underwear on – sort of! It’s okay, it’s fine, it wasn’t much! He probably won’t even notice!

  But I think I immediately tensed up, which clued Derek off.

  He stopped thrusting.

  There were these three seconds of long silence, at which point the little voice inside my head was like No no no no NO –

  And then he asked, “…did you just squirt?”

  “No! Shut up!” I squealed as I pulled myself off him and rolled away, not wanting to look at him.

  He laughed – laughed, which somehow made it worse. “Come on, that was super fucking hot – ”

  I felt his hand on my arm.

  “Stop!” I said, mortified, batting him away.

  “Come on, don’t be like that – ”

  His hands wouldn’t quit, pulling me closer to his body no matter how hard I tried to squirm away.

  “Cut it out!”

  “Come back here and do it again,” he whispered huskily in my ear.

  I turned around and beat my hands against his chest. “I hate you!” I yelled.

  He looked at me, a frown on his face – not angry, just mystified.

  I couldn’t explain it at that moment, but I think it was that I hated how much power he had over me. That at a moment when I was angry at him, he could still make me want him so badly. That he could overpower my senses with lust. That he could make me lose complete control and do something that I had never done before, something that was really embarrassing –