Never Enough: A Rockstar Romance by Roxie Noir

Author:Roxie Noir [Noir, Roxie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-20T16:00:00+00:00

26

Marisol

The moment my key’s in the lock, Gavin’s lips are on my neck, his hands on my hips pulling me against his massive erection, as if there were any doubt what we’re here for.

I close my eyes and arch my back, pressing myself into him as his lips move slowly around from the back of my neck to my throat, then travel up toward my ear, his hands under my jacket and shirt.

“Marisol,” he whispers, his voice low and rough.

His lips brush the shell of my ear. A tingle rushes through my entire body, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight it.

“You’re absolutely terrible at opening your own door.”

My eyes fly open, and now Gavin’s laughing quietly, his forehead against my temple.

“Shut up,” I murmur, snapping the deadbolt back.

“You were rubbish last night, too,” he says, and even though he’s teasing me it still sends shivers down my spine.

I open my door. We step through, and before I can think, it’s closed and Gavin’s pushed me up against it, his mouth hot and hungry on mine. My briefcase drops to the floor and he pulls my jacket off, then his.

He swipes my lower lip with his tongue and I open my mouth, his hand on my face, in my hair. His erection feels like an iron rod in his pants, massive and insistent against my belly, every movement of our hips together making me wetter.

My shirt flies off, the door cool against my bare skin as he looks at me for a long moment and I try to catch my breath, one hand on his chest, slowly tracing down over the hard muscles of his abs, all the way down until I hook one finger into the waistband of his pants.

We kiss, hard, tongues together. I think I moan and he digs his fingers into my back, tugging me further into him, and I slide both my hands under his shirt, letting my fingers explore every ripple of muscle before I finally pull it over his head.

Then I take a second to just look at him. He’s got two full tattoo sleeves that extend to both pecs, some bright and colorful, some older and faded. I run one hand over his shoulder and onto his chest.

“You approve?” he says.

“I’ve never seen you shirtless in real life before,” I say. “Only pictures.”

Gavin grins and rests his hands on the door, one on either side of my head, then leans in.

“And how many of those did you look at?” he asks.

“Some,” I tease, my hands still making their way downward.

“You should have told me,” he says, and now his face is up against mine again. “I’d have been happy to pose for more if I knew you wanted them.”

He’s against me again, skin to skin, his tongue curling into my mouth as he feels behind me for the hook on my bra, then fumbles with it for a moment. I try not to laugh, and almost succeed, until he pulls away.

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