Pauline Orr - The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 18

“Blake, put me down!”

He calmly shook his head, “You’re not going to tell me you haven’t thought about me all this time. I could tell from that kiss so don’t bother denying it!”

He slid me down him and swiftly removed the rest of my clothing before pinning me against the tile wall. If his body hadn’t held me there, I would have hit the floor. He leaned away but remained locked onto my mouth as he dropped his pants and shirt.

Pulling me off the wall by cupping my ass, he transferred us into the shower. I ran my hands down his chest, vaguely realizing that he’d developed more chest hair. He braced me against the tiles, leaving my mouth to drag his face down to my nipples.

Panting, I tugged on his hair. Unable to separate sensations from his hands and mouth, I cried his name as he guided my limp leg over his shoulder. The intensity in his voice drained my remaining energy, “I’ve dreamed of tasting you for so damn long.”

With hands fisted in his hair, I curled around him as hot breath moved over my clit. Gasping in a lungful of humid air, I cried out when his mouth closed over the pearl. His fingers thumped deep inside, owning my G-spots while his teeth and tongue sent me into climactic oblivion.

My ragged voice rang through the air, begging him as he pressed my back to the tile. With bold conviction, he grated out, “You’re mine, Baby. Our separation stops now.”

He plunged into me, bracing me against the wall, collapsing all my thoughts. My back heaved, pressing my nipples against his chest, as his mouth closed over mine. I held no memory of his roughness but it served to heighten my own passion.

Frantically grinding my hips into him, I reveled at the continuous wash of pleasure he was still able to generate. As if reading my mind, he bumped me deep inside with his cock and sent my mind reeling. I moaned in his mouth, clinging weakly to his shoulders as I went limp against the wall.

He pulled his mouth off mine, raking teeth to my earlobe, “You still got the sweetest pussy-even hotter now.”

Lost in a fog of desire amplified by his dirty talk, I nuzzled my face into his hair. He slid me into the corner, bracing me with a hand over my breast, and fucked me harder. Digging shoulders into the tile, I ground into him. The sound of my queefs and panting mingled with his grunts until, with a harsh string of curses, he jerked inside me.

His thumping cock sent me into a full body twist, setting my hips grinding and rocking him inside me. He pulled me into his arms, plunged his fingers into my wet hair, and breathed over my lips, “Shit, don’t you ever leave me again. I’m miserable without you!”

Stunned isn’t the right word for what I felt. This rock star was practically professing his need for me and all I could do was stare at him. He laughed at my wide-eyes and dropped jaw before sliding me down him and turning, “That’s right, Baby, I should never have let you go.”

Grinning at his endearment, I asked, “Why didn’t you stay in contact?”

He shook his head under the spray, “Because you scared the shit out of me. I wanted a career in music and couldn’t see that happening if I latched onto a woman.”

“And now?”

He glanced back at me with a silly grin, “I have fame and fortune but I’m not happy without you.”

I searched his face, “Are you just obsessed with having me or do you really care?”

He jerked me to him so fast that my teeth snapped together, “I would gladly give it all up and, yes, I’m probably obsessed with you!”

The intensity on his face sent a thrill shooting through me. He shrugged, “Ask the rest of the band if you don’t believe me. I’ve been hell to work with but, during the last week, I’ve been so much more pleasant.”

Floored, I nodded while he cocked an eyebrow, “How do you feel about all this?”

I opened my mouth but snapped it shut before frowning, “I have feelings for you but, after my divorce, I promised myself not to…”

“Why’d you marry that jerk?”

I blushed, “I was trying to get over you.”

He grinned, hauling me off my feet and through the chilled spray, “I knew it!”

I slapped his shoulder, “Okay! I still care.”

“That’s all I need to hear.”

He cranked the cold water off and we quickly finished. Unwilling to stop touching me, he pulled me to him, “Grab your things and come to my room.”

Scowling at the idea of a rowdy band, I asked him if his band drank or did drugs. His eyes narrowed, “I drink every now and then but, if they use, it better not affect their performance. We just ditched a drummer because of that. Shithead snorted anything put in his face.”

“Can I use that in my blog?”

“NO!”

I grinned, “I wouldn’t have anyway.”

He grew thoughtful as I collected my things before asking, “Why wouldn’t you? It’s a juicy bit of info.”

I rolled my eyes, “Because I’m biased when it comes to you. That means the interview is off.”

His eyes narrowed, “We’ll talk about that later. Let’s get you into my place first.”

I nodded as he picked up my bags. When we left, a burly guy pushed off from the wall, “Everything okay, Blake?”

“Couldn’t be better, Joe.”

Glancing back at me, he explained, “Joe’s my personal bodyguard. You need anything-he’s the guy to ask.”

I studied the massive guy with wide eyes, making Blake chuckle, “Exactly! One look and people think again.”

Joe grinned, “They don’t realize that I couldn’t hurt a fly.”

His deep voice and huge build were fitting enough but his intimidating vibe rounded out the image to perfection. He stopped at the delivery elevator, taking up the entire space in front of the doors, while we waited for it to open.

Blake pulled me behind him, “Bear with me. You never know when some nut-job is going to launch himself at one of us.”

Joe said over his shoulder, “Usually women but we’ve had a few guys try to tackle him.”

I nodded, “I can understand that.”

Blake explained to Joe, “She’s a reporter so she’s seen some shit.”

The door opened to a white-suited server pushing a tray. One look at Joe and he quickly said, “I’m going to room 217. If I can get by, I’ll be out of your way.”

With a nod, Joe let him through before ushering us inside the lift. By way of conversation, I asked, “What floor are you on?”

He told me they had the entire thirteenth floor which I should have remembered. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a vague memory brewed. I grinned, “Why the thirteenth?”

Joe shot him a look and rolled his eyes while Blake laughed, “We have an image to uphold. Thirteen is shrouded in superstition… why not?”

“Uh-huh! Working it, aren’t you?”

The door opened and Joe led us to a room, used the keycard to enter, and checked it out before allowing us inside. He paused at the door to say over his shoulder, “I’ll be next door if you need me.”

After he left, Blake switched the TV on but quickly turned the station when the local news featured their band.

“You don’t like the fame, do you?”

He shrugged, “At first, I did. It started to wear on me after a while. About that interview…”

“Blake, I can’t be unbiased here so…”

He studied my face, “Just write the truth. What did you think?”

“You guys sounded excellent. Pumped the crowd like pros and all that. I wanted to do a piece that showed behind the scenes but I…”

“What if you just interview the remainder of the band and avoid writing about me?”

My eyebrows rose, “That’s not what the fans want. You’re the one at the mike so they want to hear about you.”

He shrugged, “So, write a little about me and focus on the other band members. The drummer is new. I know he’s chomping at the bit to get attention.”