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“I was gonna drop you,” he said by way of explanation. “You want this?”
“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious, don’t you?” He smirked and nodded, and I grabbed his hand, pulling him into the bedroom. I tripped trying to kick my shoes off without untying them, and cursed. Caleb’s eyes on me were hot, even as he chuckled at me, half on the bed, pants undone.
He didn’t help me, though, just kicked off his boots, opened his jeans, and watched me get myself sorted out, until I was sitting there on the bed in just my T-shirt and underwear. Then he descended on me, sliding me up the bed and pinning me there, his jeans rough on my legs, and began kissing me all over again.
It made me wild beneath him. I loved kissing and it was something that I didn’t do much of with random men on tour who wanted to suck me off in my dressing room after a show, or get fucked against the wall in the bathroom of some club.
I was so hard for Caleb, and I ground my erection against him, the friction from his jeans through my underwear perfect. I stripped his shirt off, desperate to get a look at him. And fuck me, he was perfect. He had the kind of burly build that was the opposite of mine, thick with muscle laid over heavy bone, but not gym-honed. His chest and stomach were dusted with dark hair, and he had a chest piece done in the traditional style. Under the ridge of his clavicle, a ship in the ocean in the center, framed by a piece of heavy rope, flanked by roses, with swallows flying off toward his shoulders.
“Holy shit, the sea captain,” I murmured, remembering what he’d reminded me of when I first saw him.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing.” I traced the tattoo with my fingertips, resting my palm on the rose over his heart. I could feel the beat, powerful and steady, beneath my palm.
He ducked down and peeled my T-shirt off, too, throwing it aside and looking down at me with lust blazing in his eyes. When he kissed my stomach, the tickle of his beard made me smile. He touched me everywhere, moving me where he wanted me, and I shivered to feel him taking what he wanted. He flipped me onto my stomach and began a thorough exploration of my back, biting at my shoulder blades and tonguing a line down my spine.
He swatted my ass and I lifted it up to him. It was clear how things were going to go, and I wanted it. My underwear was stripped off and he gave a low growl, then palmed my ass, one cheek in each hand. He bent down over my back, slowly, and pushed my hair off my neck to speak into my ear. “I want this.” He gave my ass another squeeze as he said this. I groaned, and nodded so hard I almost tweaked my neck.
I pushed him back just enough to get at his pants. I could see him, hard and straining the fabric even though his fly was undone, and I couldn’t wait to see what he was packing inside those jeans. I dragged them down to find him bare beneath them. Fuck, that was hot. He hissed with relief as I freed him from his jeans, erection stiff against his stomach. And, Jesus Christ, it was gorgeous. Thick and long and so ready to go.
I bent myself in half, unable to resist sucking the head of it. Caleb swore, and slid his fingers into my hair. He let me work him for a minute or so, the taste of his arousal smoky sweet on my tongue. Then, breath coming heavily, he eased his hips away and slammed me back onto the bed, kissing me so hard it was like he could suck his own taste out of my mouth.
I grabbed at him, pulling him closer.
“Okay, fuck me, fuck me,” I demanded.
His eyes flashed and his hands tightened on my shoulders. “Got a condom?”
I grabbed one out of the nightstand and practically shoved it at him, earning a wry grin.
I was buzzy and light-headed with arousal, every nerve ending singing with the promise of Caleb’s body merging with mine. It had been too long.
“I want it like this.” I turned onto my stomach and reached back for him.
“Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, good. Lube?”
I gestured carelessly toward the drawer and nosed into the pillow. I just wanted to stay cocooned in the warmth of my bed and Caleb’s body. To lose myself in friction and pleasure, and not think. It was never this way with the randoms on tour. It was always rushed, impersonal, and there was the constant threat of the cameras on their phones. I never wanted to let them inside my hotel, so I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had sex in an actual bed.
