Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(23)

The whiskey and beer had gone to his head, but having Gemma’s body spread and open to him was making him hard as a marble statue and just as stiff.

Lifting her up enough to pull her panties down, he hooked her legs over his shoulders and spread her with his thumbs, finding her tight clit and sucking it into his mouth. He wanted her trembling under his mouth, and he soon had his wish. It had been a long time since he’d cared more about a woman than as just a warm body to satisfy his urges; now he wanted Gemma to crave him. To need him. He wanted to stamp her as his with every release he gave her. He tongued her hard and fast, flicking her flesh as she swelled in his mouth, and he knew she was getting there. Her legs started shaking as her moans and panting grew louder, until finally she tensed, calling his name as she came.

Pushing up her skirt to her waist, he grabbed the second bag and pulled out a box of condoms. When he’d asked the limo company to pick up a few things for their ride, there’d been no questions asked. Ripping it open, he grabbed one and started unbuckling his belt, her flushed skin drawing him like a moth to a flame. As he pushed down his pants and rolled the condom over his cock, he felt her shift, and her fingers touched his cheek. His gaze fused with hers as he pulled her forward and adjusted his cock at her entrance. He could feel the heat of her flesh against his tip and gritted his teeth, trying to hold back enough to slow things down, but she arched up. The motion brought him inside her, her tight passage squeezing him so hard he couldn’t stop; he had to take her. Gripping her hips in his hands, he thrust into her, and her eyes closed, her head tilting to the side as he pumped in and out of her, wondering how a quickie in the back of a limo could be the hottest sex he’d had in a long time.

It’s her. It’s always been her.

He couldn’t think like that. He could hold out hope for second chances, but he couldn’t lose himself in her too soon. He needed to be sure of her, because if she jumped ship, he didn’t want to be that sorry, needy fool that had gone in headfirst too soon.

Locking his arms around her, he climbed onto the seat and rolled into a sitting position with her legs straddling his hips. The last thing he wanted to think about was old hurts. He wanted to be here and now with Gemma, living in the moment.

Sliding his hands into her hair, he whispered, “Ride me, baby.”

She kissed him as her hips moved fast, rocking on him in quick, even strokes for several minutes, until her pace faltered. Pulling her mouth to his, he felt her cries against his lips, and her muscles clenched down on him as another orgasm took over. Holding onto her, he kept her going until he reached his own peak, breaking the kiss as he came.

How did I ever let her go?

It wasn’t just the alcohol and the incredible sex they’d just shared that had brought the thought front and center. It was the way she stroked the back of his neck, smiling down at him with dreamy eyes. She felt familiar and new at the same time, and deeper than that was that old connection. The one that had always considered Gemma’s presence as a comfort. Like coming home, if he’d ever really had one, and sitting next to a fire; peaceful and beautiful.

“God, I feel relaxed and hot at the same time,” he said, brushing back her curls as he kissed her chest. “You’re better than the whiskey.”



“WHOO-EE!” GEMMA YELLED as the wind whipped her hair. They had been driving around Vegas for two hours and she was completely sloshed.

Travis tugged on her dress and she ducked back inside, falling across his lap. “Hello, sexy.”

“When I dared you to stand up and yell out of the sunroof, I thought you’d duck out and back in, not wave and scream for an hour. You’re going to get decapitated,” Travis warned, his hands squeezing her waist.

“But you should see all the lights!” she protested, rolling her eyes at his stern look. “Whatever!”

Flipping over, she crawled across him to the other window, rolled it down, and stuck her head out, catching the names of the signs they passed.

She felt his hand under her dress, caressing her butt, and she peeked back inside, “Again? Really?”

With a growl, he pulled her back in and whispered, “Why don’t we head back to the hotel?”

“Oh, why? Are you tired?” Her mouth nipped at his ear. “I thought this was the city that never sleeps.”

“You said that was New York.”

“New York, screw York,” she whispered, kissing along his neck. “Come on, it’s your dare.”

“I thought it was yours.”

“Nope. I dared you to stick your butt out of the window at the red light, remember?” she said, giggling.

“How can I forget? Somebody goosed me,” Travis said, scowling.

Squealing with laughter, she couldn’t seem to stop. Trying to breathe, she wheezed, “So?”

“I am too drunk to be making good choices here,” he teased.

“So, make a bad one. Come on!” She pulled him up and toward the window. “What’s your pleasure?”

Everything was so bright, she could hardly look without squinting, which hurt her already dry eyes.

“I’ve got an idea; come on.”

They leaned back in, and Travis rolled down the partition. “Hey Tony, can you drop us off up ahead?”

“Of course, Mr. Bowers.”

The limo came to a stop, and Travis hopped out before Tony could get the door, reaching his hand in to help Gemma. She took his palm and stumbled out of the car, trying to keep her balance while holding up her skirt. “So, where are we going?”