“Stop it,” I bark.

“Stay still.” He carries on playing with my ass, his fingers lightly caressing the rim.

I burst out laughing and thrash my legs around. “That tickles.”

“Just relax.”

“I said no!”

Slap.

He actually slapped me on the cheek of my ass, hard.

I can’t believe he did that.

Turning around sharply, I claw onto his biceps and play fight with him.

We’re both completely naked, with me pinned beneath him on the bed—best ever place to be. Way past any normal time to be up, the booze has gone straight to my head. I’m past caring if I make a fool of myself. I’m enjoying time with Jay too much, and I want it to last all night long.

Lunging for my breasts, in an act of rebellion for not getting his own way, he takes in one of my pert nipples with his warm mouth. Wrapping my legs firmly around his sculpted torso, I lie completely flat on the bed and push my hips close to his groin.

“Ouch!” I cry.

He looks at me with a mischievous grin smeared across his lips. “Sorry.”

I punch his thigh. “You bit me on purpose, you shit.”

“Show me that ass again, baby.”

“I’ve already told you . . . no way.”

“You don’t do doggy style?”

I screw my brow. “Weren’t you trying to—?”

“What?” he cuts in.

“You know . . .”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. Aw, come on, knock off the shy bullcrap. Trying to do what?”

The sound of footsteps comes to a stop outside our door. A small slither of light from the bottom lip of the door is slightly obscured by a shadow. Jay yanks away the pillow from behind my head and launches it at the door. “A little fucking privacy please,” he shouts.

I burst into uncontrolled hysterics as the footsteps scurry away.

Jay glances back at me and huffs. “Damn voyeurs.”

“Voyeurs?”

“Perverts. Weirdos.” He looks over at the door. “Can’t really blame them . . . I’d stop too if I just heard the sexy way you shouted out.”

“Jay—” My words cut off. I’m totally sidetracked as he abruptly cups at my sex and massages my clit. I moan in sheer satisfaction. I’m lost again, drunk but very much in the moment, as he scoops his fingers inside and masturbates me roughly.

Barely opening an eye, I see him rip at the edge of a condom packet with his teeth. He’s good at that.

I begin to fight him off.

His shoulders slack. “What’s wrong now?”

“I want to taste you.” I chew on my bottom lip, enjoying the look on his face as the penny drops. “It’s only fair, you’ve tasted me.”

I giggle, wondering if I’ll regret my brashness when I sober up.

Hooking my hands around his neck, I pull him down and straddle him. For such a strong guy it’s surprising how easily I can push him around. I’m sure he just let me, though. If he wanted to he could hold me firmly in place and do anything he desired. And I’d let him. But right now I’m hungry. I want to take charge.

With my head hovering over his stomach, I trace my inquisitive tongue over the bumpy surface of his lean abs. He tastes of aftershave and soap. Pretty soon my tongue gets closer to its goal.

He sounds his approval, as I clamp my fingers around his strained erection. Pulling on his hot shaft, I start to skim my lips across the head of his huge cock. Flicking my tongue across his helmet I can taste pre-cum. It’s salty and bitter. All I can think of is how nice body chocolate would taste on him. We should so get some from a sex shop at the next city. I like his taste, but smeared chocolate over his gorgeous dick? That would be yummy times a million.

I brace my mouth over his swollen dick and slowly draw my lips over his hardness.

I suck slowly at first, just to get use to his thickness hitting my palette. He murmurs and fidgets. I draw down further, soon pushing as much of him into my mouth as I can. His head hits the back of my throat and I gag slightly—it’s just a reflex, not that I don’t like it. I strain my eyes toward him as I pull back and forth on his length, my tongue and lips massaging and sucking on his delicious coarseness. I can feel my pussy tighten just imagining how good he will feel stretching me out.

“That’s so good, baby,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

I suck harder and soon get the hang of his cock inside my mouth. Occasionally I pull off him to draw my tongue over his shaft, from top to bottom and back again. When I take him in again, I start to play with his balls. I can feel them tremble. I better retreat before he wastes his load. I want him to fuck me. He’ll need all his strength.

Jumping off him, I dive face down onto the bed and wiggle my ass. It’s a direct invitation and I don’t have to ask twice. He positions himself behind me and pulls on the condom. Just as he spreads my legs apart, I peer over my shoulder and shoot him a warning glare. “Not in my butt.”

“Why?”

“Cuz it’ll hurt!”

He sniggers.

“Really,” I add, meaning it.

He presses my head down to the bed and pushes his manhood to my entry.

I stretch my arms out in front of me and grip tight to the sheets, more than ready for paradise part two.

Forcing himself past the soft lips of my pussy, he quickly gets to work—rutting in and out of me as he plays with my peachy ass. I curse with pleasure as he pumps in and out. It’s raw and fast.

Picking up speed, I reach down for my sex and help him along by playing with my clit. This is drunken sex, rough and very playful.

Every beautiful inch of him is buried deep inside. I’m so wet for him, so horny and willing. The walls of my pussy crush against his tight and rigid cock.

He swears and I can feel him shake, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my ass.

I swear, too, and scream, jiggling my ass and rubbing frantically at my beating clit. It doesn’t take long before an earth shattering orgasm explodes from my core. I climax hard on his dick and bite down on the sheets of the mattress—crying, laughing, convulsing—like a desperate junkie going through cold turkey.

Filling the condom, he rolls off me and collapses to my side in a sweaty heap. I turn my head to him. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Hey,” he says through short breaths. “An asshole that gets what he wants.”

I tut and try my best to control the inevitable rush that follows such a magnificent release. It’s like torture and a part of me hates letting him see how crazy he drives me. As if his ego needed another boost.

“I never knew you were so wild,” he says.

“Then you don’t really know me.”

He stares at me.

“What?” I ask. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to say something weird.”

He shifts up on the bed and props his head on his hand, supporting his full weight on his elbow. “Weird?”

“I don’t know . . . you’re making me nervous again.”

“I was just thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Very funny.”

I fake a smile. “Thanks.”

“You said I don’t know you. And you’re right. It’s been all of five minutes really.”

I narrow my eyes. Play nice, Krissy.

“Oh, a good five minutes,” he adds.

I narrow my eyes more.

“A fucking excellent five minutes,” he further adds. “But I’d like to get to know you more . . . much more.”

I push up. Suddenly a wave of sobriety hits me. “What are you saying?”

“Come away with me.”

I look around the hotel room and then back at him. “Err, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention but I am away with you.”

“I mean really away. Like on a vacation.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have a few weeks off after this short tour and I’d like to do something before we hit the road for the big one. I was thinking of spending a few days in Oakland, see the family, then just take off somewhere . . . maybe Mexico.”

“I—”

He frowns. “You don’t look so keen.”

“Oh, I am . . . I’m just—I need to go home. Figure out what I want to do for a career.”

“I’m sure a few more weeks won’t hurt.”

“I need to do something with my life, Jay. Figure out what’s next.”

“Why don’t you figure that out while going away with me? Just imagine it . . . back of my Harley, out on the Interstate . . . picking anywhere we like. Fuck it, we could catch a flight . . . travel Europe.”

“You really want that?”

He traces my lips with his thumb. “Damn straight.”

I’m speechless. The drink’s definitely been shocked out of my system. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes.”

I pause, looking down at my hands as they make funny knots in the sheets.

“Come on, Krissy, the suspense is killing me.”

“I’ll need to see mom first. To sort stuff out.”

“That’s cool.”

“And you really want that . . . to go away with me?”

He nods.

I turn my attention back to my hands. “It’s crazy.”

“This is all crazy . . . Krissy, look at me.”

Slowly, I do what he says. The glint in his eyes makes me feel giddy all over again.

He cups my face. “But it feels right . . . right?”

I lean into his hand. Shifting close, he steals a kiss. My eyes close and my breathing is shallow. He is slow and gentle now.

Something deep inside of me stirs as our mouths dance. It’s not the orgasm he just gave me, or my growing attraction—which are both way off the charts—but something quite different . . . something that can’t be taken back.