Page 23 of One Weekend in Los Angeles

“Ah, lucky for you I’ve had the windows soundproofed for that very reason.” He was so deadpan that my brow arched.

Then he gave it away with laughter. Mine followed, breaking the tension.

But my humor faded the moment Deacon stood up and started to undress. I propped up on my elbows to watch, needing only a bucket of popcorn to make the striptease a real show.

His skin was golden, his tattoos a myriad of colors and designs covering one entire arm in a sleeve and spreading over his pectoral muscle. Dragging my heated gaze down, I salivated at the way his six-pack abs rippled—the type you only saw on TV or in magazines. But these were the real deal.

“In three weeks they’ll be gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ll happily have vacation stomach, where I’m not training every day and watching what I eat. Instead I’ll happily be in carb heaven.”

“You say that like it’s not the sexiest thing you’ve ever uttered.”

Our grins were matching. At least until the point where he whipped off his boxers, and my mouth dropped open.

It was unfair to expect a mega rock star to have a big dick, but Deacon Miller more than delivered. The only thing small was the worry in the back of my mind if he would fit inside of me.

“You’re beautiful.” My blurt wasn’t as bad as bleating at the man, but it was far from smooth. Sexy bedroom banter was not my forte.

His hand gripped his hardened length. “Yeah, what is it you like the most?”

My gaze was incapable of moving from the sight of him slowly stroking himself in front of me. “Your eyes?” I croaked out.

He threw his head back with laughter. “You’re hell on an ego, Andi.”

My smile was lopsided. “Yet somehow I think you’ll recover.”

He moved closer, giving me the chance to run my fingertips over his muscles and incredible ink work. His body was insane.

Stroking his skin, I marveled at the veins in his arms and the way he flexed under my touch. Tentatively, I followed the path of my hands with my mouth. His skin tasted divine. My tongue then skated over his nipple, causing him to inhale sharply. I attempted to move south, but he pulled me back up to his lips.

Good Lord, the man could kiss.

The taste of myself on his tongue only fueled my desire. His guitar-string-calloused fingers stroked my skin, causing delicious tingles from head to toe. I wasn’t entirely sure this was reality. How had we gone from fake kisses to having sex?

He wasted no time in pulling a foil packet from his nightstand and slid the condom on with a practiced skill I wouldn’t think about.

After climbing on the bed, he spread my legs and notched himself at my opening. Moving forward one delicious inch at a time, he waited for me to adjust to his size.

He swallowed my gasp, a small measure of pain mixed with the overwhelming pleasure of his kiss. The fullness was a sensation I’d never experienced.

Once he was fully seated, we both let out a collective sigh of relief. I didn’t believe the sensation could intensify until he started to move. Slowly at first, his cadence intensified as my body stretched around him. The pleasure was indescribable. Then he went and multiplied it by lifting my hips and pushing deeper.

My hands ran down his biceps and onto his shoulders, feeling the way his entire body flexed with every thrust. The sounds of slapping skin, the smell of his expensive cologne, the lingering taste of his kiss, and him deep inside of me set all of my senses on fire at once.

“I’m getting close.” I couldn’t believe it was building again so soon after my first orgasm.

“Me too.” He reached down between our bodies, circling my clit with devilish precision.

My entire lower half went rigid before I exploded into a million pieces. I was vaguely aware of his growl and the way his body tensed while he ground his climax deep into me. Although my shouts were muted this time around, they were definitely still on the loud side.

“That was incredible,” he murmured, sliding out slowly and moving to lie beside me.

“It was,” I responded, grateful it hadn’t only been in my head.

We lay there awhile, snuggled into one another and allowing our breathing to return to normal. Then, pressing a kiss against my forehead, Deacon climbed out of bed and went toward the bathroom where I assumed he disposed of the condom.