Rock with Me
Page 9

“Did you decorate it yourself?” It’s so feminine and sweet.
Like her.
“Yeah, it’s all me.” She laughs and looks around with me. She takes my hand in hers and leads me down a hallway, through her bedroom, all full of soft pillows and fluffy bedding and more reds and grays and white.
Her bathroom is the same. Soft and pretty, but not disgustingly so. It’s comfortable.
“Sit on the side of the tub and I’ll grab my stuff.” She turns her back to me, unzips and removes her pink hoodie, leaving a skin-tight tank over her yoga pants.
My hands clench into fists at my hips on the tub. Fuck, I want to touch her, cup her ass in my hands, push my face between her legs. She turns back to me, her hands full of supplies.
“Okay, this could sting a little,” she bites her lower lip and looks up at me as she squats in front of me, just inches from me. “I’m sorry.”
“Sam, I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt. It’s stopped bleeding.”
“I don’t want it to get infected. I’ll just clean it up.” She starts gently rubbing it with a warm cloth, cleaning the blood that has already begun to dry on my shin. Her sweet blonde head is bowed over me, concentrating on her task.
And my cock is stirring with every little touch from those amazing white-tipped fingers.
She grips my calf firmly in one hand to steady me, and I flinch, imagining her gripping my dick in the same way.
“Did I hurt you?” She backs away, eyes wide and glances up at me with worry.
“No, sorry.”
“I don’t think you need a Band-Aid or anything.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I murmur and chuckle. “See? It’s no big deal.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you,” she mutters.
“Sam, I’m fine. I’ve had much worse, trust me.” She sets the cloth aside, and I take her hands in mine before she can stand and move away. I like having her this close.
She smells fucking amazing.
“Why do you flinch when I touch you?” I murmur and tilt her chin back to look her in the eye. She frowns and a light pink blush moves over her cheeks. I run my fingers down her face and trace her bottom lip with my thumb. “Tell me. I enjoy touching you.”
She swallows and briefly frowns again. “I guess I’m just not used to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I spend most of my time alone, Leo. Unless I’m around my family, which isn’t often, I’m not touched much.” She shrugs and looks down. “I’m just not a touchy-feely person.”
“Okay.” God, she breaks my heart and makes me want to scoop her up and keep her in my arms all the time.
That wouldn’t go over well with this independent, stubborn woman.
“I bet you’re touched all the time.” She smirks.
“Why?” I ask. We’re still face-to-face, inches apart. I don’t want to move.
“Fans. Groupies. People who want a piece of you.”
“The fans are great, and yes, can be a bit gropy.” I smirk. “I haven’t paid attention to the groupies in a long time.”
Her wide eyes find mine again. Does she think I fuck every woman who comes on to me?
Okay, I used to, but I was a kid.
“Really?”
I run my fingers down her cheek again and smile down at her. “I let the roadies have them.”
“Perk of the job,” she returns with a chuckle.
“They don’t complain.” I agree. “You smell good,” I whisper. Her sweet, light scent is all around me. She smells like vanilla with a hint of lemons.
Sunshine.
Her breath catches and her eyes fall to my lips and I know I’m a goner.
“I’m going to kiss you, Samantha,” I whisper.
~Samantha~
“Thank God,” I whisper, watching his lips, that piercing. He’s been touching me all week, a brush here, a hug there, but he hasn’t kissed me since that moment on my parents’ porch.
I never knew I could crave a kiss so much.
He smirks, his eyes happy and hot, runs those calloused fingertips down both of my cheeks and tilts my head back.
I brace my hands on the tub at his hips as he leans down and lightly, softly brushes his lips over mine. He nibbles the corner of my mouth, and then moves in, grips my ponytail in one fist to keep my head tilted back, his other hand wraps around my neck and cheek and he kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before.
Like he just can’t get close enough to me.
The feeling is entirely mutual.
I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on, moving from a squat to my knees, and lean into him. I swear someone turned the heat up in my apartment. I’m hot and bothered, literally.
He moves his hand from my hair, down my back, and cups my ass in his hand.
He backs away, breathing hard, eyes shining with lust. “Are you seeing anyone?”
I shake my head no and lean in to kiss him again, but he pulls back, his face still so serious.
“Fucking anyone?”
“Brandon moved.”
“Who’s Brandon?”
“Former fuck-buddy.” Why are we talking?
“How long?” He asks, eyes narrowed, watching me.
“A few months.” I take his face in my hands and frown up at him. “What’s this about?”
“I don’t want to move in on another guys territory, and I don’t share.”