Rocked Up

His eyes widen at the sight of me and he cries out “L –!”

But I quickly shove my finger on top of his lips to shut him up and make him walk backward into his room until I’m shutting the door behind us, flipping over the lock just in case.

“What are you doing here?” he asks but he’s grinning. He’s happy to see me.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, putting one hand on my hip. “How drunk are you?”

“Pretty drunk. I’ve had a hell of a night.”

I walk toward him, grabbing the hem of his shirt as I inspect his face. His eyes are glazed, his smile crooked.

And his nose is swollen. Purple is spreading to his eyes.

“Brad, did you get in a fight?!” I exclaim, dragging him over to the lamp and flicking it on. I gasp when I can see him clearer.

“It was Roar,” he says.

“Roar? How the fuck was it Roar? Where did he come from? Why did he hit you?”

Brad shrugs, still smiling. “I don’t know. Vikings do these things.”

“Brad…”

“Oh, right. He was mad that we stole his dune buggy and got it towed. He was stuck with the bill.”

“Oh shit. I never even thought of that.”

“Neither did I,” he says. “Usually when I get into shit, someone is there to fix my problems just like that.”

“Someone like my father.”

He doesn’t say anything, his smile fading slightly.

“Anyway, Jesus. Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine. He knocked me out clear over the bar and then there was this brawl. But it all happened while I was under. But we all made up after.”

I shake my head. “You guys are nuts, you know that?”

“No, you’re nuts,” he says, looking me up and down. “What are you doing tempting fate like this? The moment I saw you talking to your father, I could have sworn you were done with me.”

“Done with you?” I ask. “Brad, I’m just getting started.”

He chews on his lip, his eyes becoming heavy with lust. “Oh really? He didn’t scare you off me?”

“Did he scare you earlier?”

“Baby, nothing is going to keep me away from you. Not your father, not the band. If it’s a risk, I don’t fucking care. You are worth that risk.”

That’s exactly what I’ve been dying to hear.

“Get on the bed,” I tell him.

He raises his brow. “Oh?”

“Do it. You’re drunk and I’d like to take advantage of you.”

“Well I would love it if you did. I’ll give you a helping hand though.” He starts to undress himself, even if he has to lean against the dresser briefly so he doesn’t fall over while taking off his pants.

My god, he’s a gorgeous man. Just enough chest hair, just enough muscle, just enough of a tan. He looks like he works out, but not too much. He’s lean and sculpted and naked, here for me to ogle and admire.

And then there’s his dick. I barely got a look at it earlier in the alley but now it’s here, large and in charge and in all its glory.

I really lucked out with this man. Brad Snyder is turning out to be everything I thought he would be and more. Much, much more.

“Are you done admiring me?” he asks with a cocky smile. Normally I would cut him down and say he doesn’t have a right to look so pleased with himself, but honestly, he can be as pleased as he wants. The man is perfect.

“No,” I tell him and bring my shirt over my head while sliding off my undies. It’s funny how I feel zero shame or self-consciousness when I’m naked in front him. It just feels natural. Right.

Hell, maybe it means I’m cocky too.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look?” he says, his voice in a low whisper. He’s looking me over in awe.

“I could say the same to you. Now get on the bed.” I pause, remembering earlier. “Oh wait, do you have a condom?”

“Maybe?” he says. “We didn’t use one earlier…is that going to be a problem?”

“It shouldn’t be,” I tell him. “I’m on the pill.”

I just haven’t been taking the pill very regularly since we’ve been on the road. I don’t want to risk it again.

He walks off to the bathroom and I get on the bed. When he comes back he has one in his hand.

“Lie back,” he says to me.

“Now you’re in charge?”

“You bet I am. Lie back.”

I’m okay with this.

I lie back on the bed and watch eagerly as he opens the packet and slides the condom on. Call me weird, but I’ve always found the sight to be strangely erotic. Or maybe it’s just that I like to see a guy handle himself like that.

He keeps his eyes on mine, burning with new lust that seems to be born from fire. Meanwhile, I’m so turned on already that I’m wet, the heat building between my legs.

He crawls on top of me, his dick bobbing out between us, grinning at me like we’re sharing a secret. I guess we are.

His hand slips down between my thighs, parting them slightly as his fingers find my clit. I let out a small, anxious gasp as he teases it, his eyes never breaking from mine. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. Even during the show.”

“So have I,” I admit, feeling strangely shy for just a moment.

Something smolders in Brad’s eyes and he grabs my hips, parting my legs further.

He reaches for his dick and runs the crown of it up and down my clit, pausing to dip it briefly inside before bringing it back up.

My eyes close, and I surrender myself to his teasing. I never want him to stop and yet I want him inside me more than ever. He’s not pushing in—it’s just a slow slide, back and forth, but I feel myself opening for him anyway, my body hungry, then becoming wildly desperate for more, just like I was earlier in the alley. I swear this man turns me into a wild thing. I’m both languid and tense, surrendering and spurring him on as he rubs against me over and over again.

I swallow hard, making a whimpering noise that sounds like begging. My heart is starting to sound in my head, my skin is hot and tight, my nipples are hardened pebbles in the room’s air-conditioning.

“I want you inside me,” I tell him. “This is torture.”

“But it’s the best kind,” he whispers.

With a slow exhale, not breaking eye contact, he leans on his elbows and pushes himself in.

Slowly.

Inch by inch.

It feels good, then it feels like too much, then I don’t even know what I feel because all I feel is him.

This isn’t a crazed quickie out in a dirty alley. This is him and me, in this bed, soft and gentle and slow. It’s right. It’s so damn right.

I stretch around him, decadently full. taking the time to enjoy and worship each other’s bodies, to see how we fit, to see how good we can make each other feel.

I’m soaking in every feel of him.

This man.

My rock god.

My everything.

“Does it feel okay?” he asks, groaning through the words.

“It’s more than okay,” I say, licking my lips. I look at him, caught in the heated vibrancy of his stare. “God, you feel so good.”

He nods and watches me intently as he pushes in further. His lips part as he sucks in his breath, and his forehead creases in lust and awe, like he can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe how good it feels.