“Always.” Leaning forward, he nipped the spot where my neck met my shoulder. It hadn't been a hot spot for me when we were teenagers but I definitely liked it now. And he knew it. He'd known it at three in the morning when I'd woken up to his head between my legs. Wow, an orgasm was a great way to wake up.
But now, now I had to pee.
I shifted out of his hold and slid from the bed. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him watching me, a sly grin on his face.
As I made my way to the bathroom, I shook my head at him. “You are so bad.”
He pushed the covers back, gripped his cock, the part of him that had rocked my world three times last night, and stroked it. “Damn straight.”
I shut the door behind me, leaned against the cool wood. Blew out a breath when I heard the phone ring, followed by him cursing as he spoke to someone on the phone.
Real life, here we come.
I was in big trouble here. I moved to the mirror, saw myself. I looked like a well-fucked woman. My hair was a wild tangle, snarled and matted. My skin had a pink glow to it and my nipples were hard. I stepped closer to the mirror, looked down. I had a love bite on the upper swell of my breast. Kit had paid very close attention to both of them but I'd missed when he'd done that. It would be there for days.
The smile slipped from my lips. Days. I'd be gone. No, he'd be gone and yet his mark would linger. I didn't need to have the little red splotch to remember our time together. I wouldn't forget it. Ever. Just as I hadn't forgotten our time as teenagers.
It was just one night. It had been amazing, but he was going to crawl out of that bed and out of my life. I'd have to take a walk of shame back to my own hotel. Shit. I'd been the groupie he'd taken back to his hotel room after a concert and I'd be the groupie that left, walking a little bow legged, in the same clothes as the night before. And the staff at this hotel? They probably noticed everything. Every. Thing.
So embarrassing.
Kit wasn't going to give up his band and I refused to be the one to hold him back. The parties, the women, the lifestyle. God, this hotel room. I’d never been in a room like this, never even dreamt of it. The whole thing reeked of money, from the thick down duvet to the thick cream-colored carpet under my bare feet. No, this wasn’t my life. It was time to go back to reality. Being a rock star was his dream, and I’d never heard anyone claim that having a conservative wife was part of the rock star equation.
And I was not the kind of woman to sit home and patiently wait while he left me for months at a time. Long distance relationships were bullshit, and I knew my heart wasn’t cut out for that kind of stress. I wouldn’t survive trying to do a long distance thing with Kit.
When I left the bathroom, Kit was sitting on the side of the bed.
“Tia called. A TV station set aside time for us on their noon show. I have to go.”
The ache already began. The loss. This time, it was my own fault. I'd let him in and now I'd have to live with the pain of not being able to keep him.
“I have to shower.” He came up to me, stroked his knuckles down my cheek. Why did he have to be so damn sweet?
I couldn't say anything past the lump in my throat, so I just nodded.
“Give me ten minutes, then I'll get my mouth on your pussy again. One more taste before I go.”
Said pussy got wet just from his voice, the mental picture of him kneeling on the floor, his hands gripping my bottom as he ruthlessly licked and sucked on my clit.
Kissing my forehead, he turned and went into the bathroom. When I heard the water turn on, I knew I had to go. Now. If he walked out with nothing but a towel around his hips, all of my willpower would evaporate in an instant.
Grabbing my clothes, I tossed them on, found my purse. I couldn't leave without telling him something. While I knew I didn’t have the courage to tell him to his face—he'd just grab me and get me beneath him—a note would work. He couldn’t argue with a note on his pillow.
I found a hotel notepad and pen on the desk, scribbled out a few lines.
There. Done. Closure.
With one last look at the closed bathroom door, thinking about the man who was most likely soaping up his gorgeous body hidden behind it, I walked out the door. Out of Kit's life. Out of his way.
Kit
My cock was so fucking hard. Again. I was like a fifteen year old who couldn't control it. Hell, I'd fucked her three times and I still wasn't done. I doubted I'd ever be. I gripped my cock, stroked it once, then let go. No, I wouldn't waste it in the shower. All my pleasure, all my cum would be for her. I wanted fill her up, to go in her bare, to fuck her raw. Nothing between us.
I groaned as my balls ached. Grabbing the soap, I got clean. Fast. Wrapping one towel around my waist, I grabbed another and rubbed my hair.