Karyn Gerrard - Heart of Rock

Byrne cocked his eyebrow. "Addictions? My arse-hole behavior? My selfish indulgences?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Yes, all of it."

Byrne raised his glass to her and took a drink. "You've been a support, Carly. Couldn't have got through the last two weeks without you."

She swallowed a mouthful of soda, and then set the glass on the desk. "I did nothing. You have the will to steer your own destiny, and you did."

Byrne set his glass next to hers. "I'm not much of a believer in destiny, but I'll steer it tonight. I want you, Carly, on the desk, against the wall, on your knees, and on top of me. If we can manage to do it all I'd be as happy as a pig in muck."

"Byrne…"

He held two fingers to her lips. "Love, don't think about it too hard. Let's enjoy the night and take pleasure in each other."

She couldn't argue with him on those points. She wasn't in the mood for deep conversation, not tonight. There was so much she didn't know about him. One thing she did know: He was a skilled and accomplished lover. No doubt all the practice he had. He moved his fingers away.

"Aren't you tired? I mean, the show you put on…"

"Aye, I'm a bit knackered, but the adrenaline from the concert is still pumping, and the shower only revived me more. After we make love, I want to stay with you, darlin', sleep, breakfast, the whole damned thing."

She had no willpower where he was concerned. Brogan Byrne was sweet, sexy man candy, and she wanted to indulge and gorge herself, at least for tonight. Could she walk away from him in the morning? Keep her distance? Truthfully, she didn't want to be involved with a man hanging on the precipice of sobriety. She had witnessed enough of that growing up with her own father's struggles to stay sober. Her dad wasn't a mean drunk, nor was he abusive physically or verbally. He would just withdraw. The coldness became a part of life and a part of her. She didn't want Byrne clawing past her frosty defenses. The more she let him near, the more he chipped away. He wasn't perfect, but then she always thought perfection was overrated. Regardless, after tonight she'd have to protect her heart.

"The 'whole damned thing' is only for tonight, Byrne. In the morning, we part." A pained look crossed his handsome face, but it was so brief she thought she imagined it.

"Fair play. Tonight only. But I reserve the option to revisit this later."

"Much later, if at all."

He boldly cupped her breast, kneaded it, and pinched her pebbled nipple. "A challenge. Know this, Carly: What we shared yesterday is rare, and before you say it, it's not some muck-shite lie I shovel out to all women. I mean what I say."

Byrne captured her mouth in another devastating kiss. She melted immediately. Some resistance she had. She shamelessly threw her arms around his neck and ground her body into his obvious hardness.

"Take me to your bed. Have your way with me," Byrne whispered between kisses.

No way could she pass the invitation up. Taking his hand, led she him into her bedroom. The hotel suite was plush and the bed king-size, with a burgundy silk duvet and matching pillows and cushions. Carly couldn't wait to get Brogan Byrne stripped and under her. He stood stock still and watched her every move while she pushed his open shirt off his broad shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She then unzipped his leather pants and pulled them down. No underwear. Why was she not surprised? He didn't wear them yesterday either. He opened his clenched fist and dropped three packages of condoms in her hand.

"I have more, whatever we need."

"On the bed and on your back, Byrne."

He clutched her wrist. "In bed you will call me 'Brogan.' I will make sure you scream my name to the skies. You follow?"

Oh, masterful. She kind of liked it. "As you wish, Brogan."

He closed his eyes briefly and moaned. He then opened his eyes and fixed hers in a searing, desirous gaze. "Love, I've been called worse 'B' names, but hearing 'Brogan' from your succulent lips is heaven to my ears."

He let go of her wrist, stepped out of his leather pants, and lay upon her bed. His magnificent cock was erect and lying full and thick up past his navel. His eyes smoldered and locked her in a sexy, molten gaze.

"Get on your horse and ride." He slapped his thigh in invitation.

While she practically tore off her clothes, Byrne rolled on a condom and Carly wasted no time climbing onto the bed and raising herself above him. Grasping his cock, she lowered inch by agonizing inch. She was so damned wet and so eager that she took him all. The back and forth rocking motion sent sparks of intense heat through her entire body. Byrne grabbed her hips and thrust upward with decided purpose. She stared into his determined face. This couldn't be the same man she witnessed hit rock bottom merely two weeks ago. It was a remarkable recovery to be sure. It could turn on a dime, however, which made any relationship with him impossible. Enjoy tonight. Forget tomorrow.

Sweat rolled down her back. The intensity and the power of his thrusts caused purple and black color to swirl in her vision. She'd never experienced such passion before. She was in for one hell of an orgasm. Her head snapped back with such force she heard her neck crack. "Oh, Brogan. God, yes!"

Byrne pulled her down toward him and kissed her soundly. His tongue thrust matching the upward push of his cock. He pulled away as his animal growl and clenched teeth indicated his own intense release. Carly sat upright and watched the oblivious desire play out on his face while he bucked and writhed under her. Brogan Byrne was beautiful and magnificent in climax. His eyes stayed fixed on hers, and his forceful gaze seared her soul.

She cupped his cheek tenderly. "Brogan…"

"Have I told you how much I love the sound of my name on your luscious lips, darlin'? I have, I know, but say it again." His voice was raspy, husky, and sexy as hell. He was also out of breath.

"Brogan. Brogan," she whispered, stroking his smooth, freshly shaved cheek.

He smiled. "Off, love. Have to change the rubber."

"More?"

"Oh, aye, much, much more."

Carly lifted herself off Byrne. Wow, he was still hard. So the stamina part of the rumor was true. Byrne swung his legs around the side of the bed, stood, tore off the used condom, dropped it in the trash, and rolled on another. His head inclined toward the plush burgundy armchair. He sat down, and then crooked his finger, his smile teasing and sexy.

"Have a seat, love, right here. Facing me."

The chair was big enough she could easily fit her knees on either side of his slim, muscular hips. Carly moaned aloud at the feel of his cock filling and stretching her as she lowered onto his erection. His hands brushed the sweat-matted hair from her face. Byrne's fingers moved down and brushed past her swollen clit.

"So your hair is brown like mine. Never would have guessed."

"I'll dye mine back when you dye yours, rock star."

Byrne laughed. The sexy deepness of his voice caused her to gush once again. She seemed to be forever wet around this man. The smile left his face as he tenderly caressed her cheeks with the pads of his fingers. Some of them were callused from his guitar playing, and the rough feel caused sparks to roam through her body. His touch was electric, scorching, and blazing her skin in ways no other man's ever did.

"See me, feel me…"

Oh, God. It was a song from The Who. "See Me, Feel Me." He sang to her in such a poignant way tears clustered in the corner of her eyes. He repeated the opening lyric three times, each occasion with more feeling. He managed to sound even better than Roger Daltrey, at least to her. If it was in her power to heal him, she would. Carly got the distinct impression he needed healing. This was not hollow sex, and it scared her but also touched her in ways she didn't think she was capable of feeling. A couple of tears escaped her eyes and trailed down her cheeks.