CHAPTER NINE
Billie was feeling fine. Party for one, in progress. She had a glass with some excellent whiskey and Coke which she sipped as she danced.
Rocker's powerful sound system was turned up so the beat of the bass thrummed through the floor under her bare feet. To the music of his streaming music station, she danced in the open space between the kitchen and the sitting area. She'd turned off all the lights except for one, and she was using it for a stage light, and giggling to herself as she busted out her moves.
She'd been dancing a while, so she was perspiring. As one of her favorite oldies came on, she sang along with Joe Cocker's raspy, bluesy version of 'When a Man Loves a Woman' and reached down to grab the hem of her long-sleeved tee and tug it slowly over her head. Still dancing as she pulled it over her head, she held it by one sleeve and twirled it around her head a few times before tossing away.
Why the heck shouldn't she? Rocker was gone somewhere in the night, and she was alone, instead of with a man who'd stop at nothing to show her 'his precious love'.
Thus, she kept going. Her pants came off next, with plenty of slow wiggling of her hips. As they slid down, she bent over, her ass to the room and pushed them off her feet, then stepped out of them.
Free of the snug pants, she shimmied her way to the kitchen bar for a last drink, and then reached down to pull up her tank as she turned back toward the sitting area. Humming along with the music, she did a slow roll and shake of her hips, then pulled the tank off and flung it away.
Her eyes still closed, she shook back her hair, and ran her hands down over her nearly bare body, then back up again.
If he were here, she would drop her bra strap really slow on one side, then the other... and then she'd open her eyes, tip her chin down and give him a smoldering look from under her lashes.
She imagined the heat in his gaze as he looked back, and thus she was smiling as she opened her eyes.
And looked straight into the eyes of her host—the real man, not imaginary.
Billie froze, and her mouth opened. "Holy shit," she breathed in the quiet after the song ended. "You're—you're back."
The man sprawled back on his sofa, one arm along the back and the other hooked in his belt, his long legs open, cocked his head slowly to one side, one of his brows rising. "You mean to say you didn't know I was here for that whole song?"
"Um, no?" she managed. And she should have stopped there, but with whiskey and the heat of his gaze swimming in her veins, she added, "But… I imagined you were."
He smiled slowly. "Babe. I like that that was for me. Gotta say, you're a natural. You ever get up on a stage?"
She tossed her head, swinging her hair forward over one shoulder and toying with a long curl. "No. I sort of learned from watching YouTube."
He threw back his head and laughed. Then, as Chris Stapleton began to sing about a woman smooth as Tennessee whiskey, he held out a hand in a gesture that welcomed her to do more. "You're obviously a fast learner. Got any more moves, 'cause I'm happy to watch."
She blinked. "You liked it?"
He gave her a look. "Babe. Not a red-blooded man alive wouldn't love watching a gorgeous woman with hair and curves like yours shake it like that."
"Oh." She smiled at him, her hips moving with a will of her own to the slow ballad playing.
His eyes drooped, and he nodded. "Oh, yeah. I'd like for you to keep going, get that bra and panties off. Show me your gorgeous tits, and your snatch. Then I got a taste for pussy, so I wanna eat you, then fuck you."
When she simply stood, staring at him with her eyes wide and the rest of her body flushing with a heat so deep and so needy that it nearly made her squirm—okay, maybe there was a little squirming involved—he held out one big hand to her and crooked his finger.
"No? Then, c'mere, pretty woman."
She walked to him, floating over the deep pile of the shag carpet between the sofas, her body and mind light and liquid with sheer, naughty excitement.
When she reached him, he pulled her down astride him, her knees planted on either side of his hard thighs, her ass on his thighs, and his hands on her nearly bare hips.
Her hands landed on his chest. So much warm, hard man to pet and explore. She did, smoothing her palms over the broad plain of his pecs under his soft tee.
Then his hands squeezed into the flesh of her hips, and she forgot about touching him and reveled in the grip of big, calloused hands, so warm and so knowing.
He caressed her, his thumbs moving in slow sweeps over the thin fabric of her hipster panties and the skin bared by them. His touch was miraculous, bringing to life sensations she'd never thought to feel, a hot flush of pleasure sweeping through her.
"Yeah," he approved gutturally, his gaze low. "That's right, babe. My own lap dance. Fuck, you're a natural."
Which was when Billie realized she was still moving, to the slow music and to the urging of his hands as they slid back and down, cupping her ass and urging her forward and down.
When her mons brushed his groin she shivered at the pleasure of pressure on her swollen, needy flesh, and pressed down again.
This time, she felt in detail the long, hard ridge in his jeans. She moaned, clutching him as she moved again, seeking relief from the ache of her empty pussy.
He grunted, flexing his hips under her, and gave her ass another squeeze. "That's right, babe. That's all for you. Now take your bra off for me, yeah? Gimme a taste of your gorgeous tits."
Oh, my God. He, Rocker Hayes, thought her breasts were gorgeous? And he wanted to see them?
That's it, she was going to die right now of an extreme case of over-excitement. Just burst into flames like a troll hit by one of Sheenah's flaming arrows.
Sheenah. That was it, channel her avatar. What would the tough, courageous elven warrior do? She'd toss back her hair, straighten her back and look him in the eye while she revealed her goods.
She'd let him know he was one lucky man, because she didn't give up her studded leather bra for just any man. Although thank God Billie didn't have to get that particular contraption off!
Her own bra had a simple front clasp, which she could flick open with one hand, and then pull her bra open, while watching his face. Which nearly made her whimper with need, because the way his hard jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring and his beautiful eyes drooped, made every second of trepidation worth it.
"That's right," he said again, his deep voice a low growl. "Now bring me those pretty pink nipples. Want a taste."
When his big, warm hands slid up her bare back and urged her to rise up on her knees so her breasts were level with his mouth, Billie hung on, flexing her fingers into the hard plush of his lats.
He chuckled, low in his throat, and brushed his nose teasingly over one hard, pointy nipple. "Babe. Don't dig holes in me, okay?"
Without giving her time to answer, he opened his mouth and licked her right nipple into his hot, wet mouth and sucked—hard.
Billie cried out as pleasure shot from his mouth through her sensitive flesh. In answer, he suckled harder, and reached up to cup her other breast in his hand, hefting its weight and tweaking her nipple. Billie lifted her own hands, cupping his head and holding him to her breast, half-afraid he would stop or get away.
His hair was coarse silk in her hands, and he smelled of the outdoors, man and soap. His head moved in her hands as he enjoyed her like a living lollipop. The sight of his dark, masculine head at her breast was enough to send pleasure shivering down through her, so she hovered on the edge of pain and what she vaguely knew could be ecstasy unlike any she'd ever known.
Another suck and pinch and she squeezed her thighs over his, rolling her hips in an instinctive search for relief from the pulsing need between her thighs.
"You like that," he approved, watching her as he let her nipple go, and reached between her thighs with his right hand, cupping her mons. "You wet for me?"
When his blunt fingers slid past the hem of her panties and into her labia, sleek and swollen with moisture, he made a deep sound of approval in his throat, his dark eyes glittering up at her. "I can smell your pussy, hot and sweet. All woman."
With this astonishing information, he turned his mouth to her other breast, and watched her as he plied her breast with his hot, wet mouth and her hot, wet pussy with his fingers. He slid two long, knobby fingers right up inside her, and with his thumb, found her swollen, needy clit.
"Oh, my God," Billie whimpered. "I... you're--" Then she lost all coherent thought as he hooked his fingers and found a magical spot deep insider her pussy that heretofore had only known the touch of her vibrator, and began to stroke her clit with the pad of his thumb.
She shivered as pleasure tightened instantly around his fingers, and his magical mouth. It tightened until everything imploded inside her, and then burst outward, through her body.
Tipping her head down sharply, she hung onto him and called out her pleasure to him.
When she was able to drag her eyes open again, he was grinning up at her, fiercely as a wolf. But he let her go, setting her down on his thighs, and reached up to take her wrists in his. "Babe, gotta give you something else to hang onto before you dig holes in my hide."
She blinked, and looked at him aghast. "Oh no. Did I hurt you?"
"Not yet, but let's do this."
Billie let out a yelp of shock as he tipped her sideways, rolling with her so she landed on her back on the cool leather of the sofa, with him between her open thighs. She clapped one arm over her bare breasts, the other grabbing for purchase on the back of the sofa.
He lifted his chin toward the sofa arm behind her head. "Reach back there and grab on. That way, you can claw the leather all you want, and not me."
Even tipsy and reeling with pleasure, she still blushed. "Oh, no—I'll be good—I mean, careful. I'll be careful." Oh, damn, had she really just said that? And from the devilish smirk he gave her, he'd liked it.
"You gonna be my good girl, let me eat your pussy? Yeah? Then reach back and hang on, and you'll see what good girls get."
With a strangled moan of mingled embarrassment and sheer excitement, Billie let go her breasts, stretched her arms over her head, and grasped the edge of the cushion on which she lay.
With her legs open, and her arms over her head, her hair spilling around her in disarray, he could see every bit of her, like the star of a porn video.
"That's my good girl," he approved, his deep voice rasping through her like a physical caress. "Now I'm gonna eat you out, before I fuck you."
Billie's pussy contracted sharply at his words. She felt as if she'd been vaulted into an alternate world, where incredible, sexy things happened to her, not just other women.
And he didn't even seem to notice that she wasn't a size three, or that her belly curved outward, not in.
Then he nuzzled his whiskered face into the crevice of her thigh, and shouldered his way closer, lifting her thighs farther open. With a grunt that sounded like satisfaction, he bent his head to her, a stray lock of black hair brushing the skin of her belly.
As his soft lips, prickling whiskers and even softer tongue contacted her flesh, she forgot to worry about what he saw, and reveled in what she felt.
Besides, he clearly liked what he was doing. He licked and sucked and used his fingers in her again until she was lifting up to him, chasing the light, teasing stroke of his talented, wicked tongue and whimpering his name.
"Oh, my God. Rocker—I need—harder, please."
To her dismay, he reared up between her legs, shaking his head. "Changed my mind. Want inside you, bad. You're gonna come on my cock."
Oo-oh, that sounded awesome.
Then he grabbed the hem of his tee and hauled it up and over his head, and started working on his jeans, while Billie stared. Holy rollers and rockstars... if it was possible to come from looking at a guy, he'd be the one to cause it.
She'd seen his big shoulders, lean muscled torso and arms in his snug tees, but now she could see the mat of ebony curls that decorated his chest, and then trailed downward over hard abs to his lean waist. His nipples were small brown coins on his hard chest. The tattoos that decorated both arms were joined by more over one shoulder and down his side.
Billie wanted to touch all of them, and lick them too.
Then he unfastened his jeans, and she forgot all about tattoos. His cock sprang free of his jeans, long, thick, flushed with arousal, a column of pure, male intent. And something silver glinted from the shaft, just behind the broad, mushroom-shaped head.
"Is that a piercing?" she asked, awed.
Already opening a condom pack with his teeth, he grunted a laugh as he took himself in hand and rolled the condom on with swift ease. "Yeah, it is, babe. You had one in you before?"
She managed to rip her gaze from his cock to meet his gaze, dark and glittering with desire and humor. "Um, no." That was for sure. Neither of the guys she'd been with in college had been sexually sophisticated enough to have their man-parts pierced.
Rocker leaned over her, one hand planted at her shoulder, the other between them as he guided himself to her opening. "You're gonna enjoy it."
Then he pushed inward, and she yelped.