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She left after the kiss, which means she might regret it. Maybe I misread the way she was looking at me. I was sure I sensed the same desire in her, burning up through her flushing cheeks, making her look young and innocent and most of all filled with passion. I was sure she wanted it as badly as I did.
But then she placed her hand on my chest, stopping me.
After that, she was gone.
What happened in between me turning away and turning back?
As I drive through the night, I squeeze the steering wheel and stare at the road. I’m gripping the wheel too damn tight, but I can’t help it. It’s an effort not to snap it off.
“What am I going to do?”
I find myself almost wishing she’d just told me she wasn’t interested. She could’ve simply said she wanted nothing to do with me. I went too far. At least then I’d know.
I don’t even know her name.
I laugh, even if I don’t find it funny. I should know her name, my woman’s name. I should be able to whisper it under my breath.
But there is something I can do.
I can contact the security team from the arena, talk my way into them letting me see the security footage. Maybe I’ll be able to get her license plate and find her that way. What the hell am I thinking?
I grit my teeth, trying to think of a different way of finding her.
I can’t just let her go, even if all the signs are pointing toward wanting that.
“She left,” I growl under my breath, trying to get myself to accept it.
But I’ve never felt this. It’s like there’s a giant invisible hand gripping my chest, pressing tighter and tighter each moment, when I think about letting her simply walk away.
We shared something in that intense moment, and then her cute-as-hell wave, and finally the kiss... the heat of her body, the way her voluptuous breasts flattened against me.
I’m getting hard just thinking about it.
The base of my cock feels so sensitive like I’d almost erupt if her soft hand wrapped around me. But I’d never waste my seed anywhere but in her warm heat. Or maybe on those juicy breasts, after I know I’ve gotten her pregnant and I’m free to paint her in my glistening come.
I can see her staring up at me, her lips parted, presenting me with her tongue as I softly slip my helm into her mouth. Her chest heaving after her first orgasm, her swaying breasts causing me to grow hard once again. I can hear her moaning for me as I tell her to rub her little clit as she sucks me off.
I let out a panting breath, pushing the fantasy away. They won’t end. I don’t understand how it’s possible I’ve never seen this woman before tonight, not once, and now she’s all I can think about.
She’s all I’ll ever be able to think about.
CHAPTER THREE
Billie
“I didn’t take you there to kiss the rock star.”
It’s the first time dad’s said more than two words to me since he grabbed me backstage.
I was still reeling from the kiss, my lips alight, my body buzzing with the intensity of the moment. I could still feel his rock hard manhood pressing against my belly, and hear how deep and husky his breathing grew. I kissed my crush, the man of my dreams, and everything was perfect.
I had to focus, to luxuriate in the kiss, to forget how impossible it was.
Why would he kiss me? Did he think I was pretty?
I would’ve laughed before, but there’s nothing funny about this.
Wait for me.
I was going to wait for him before dad came to get me. Now we sit opposite our apartment building. Dad has his hands in his lap, squeezing them together, the same way I often do.
My head is still swimming from the kiss, and I can’t stop thinking about Aaron turning to find me gone. He doesn’t even know my name.
What is he going to think?
“What’s the problem?” I murmur.
Dad flinches. “You don’t know him. He doesn’t know you. He’s twice your age.”
“I don’t buy the age thing,” I say passionately. “I’m an adult and he’s an adult. I don’t see how a few years should make any difference to that.”
“It’s not just a few years, though, is it?”
“Cousin Luke is married to a woman eighteen years younger than him. I’ve never heard you give him any crap.”
Dad groans. “You always know the right thing to say. Isn’t it enough that I’m your father and I don’t want you kissing a rockstar?”
I fold my arms. “Not when I’m an adult, Dad. You can’t dictate my life. He asked me to wait for him. He’s going to think I ditched him.”
“Good,” he says gruffly. “That would be perfect for everyone involved. We don’t need to get tangled up with a rockstar.”
