My Rock #3 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #3) (8 page)

I
got up, went to the death chair, and waited for my fate. Within the next ten
minutes, Brooke was sitting next to
me
in the other
chair. She looked pissed;
I
don’t know if it was
because she was in the bottom three, or because she had to sit next to me. Her
performance last night was as bad as
mine
.
I
wondered if it had anything to do with the fight we’d had
the night before.
I
probably should have felt bad
about that, but I didn’t. She was the one throwing around accusations and
threats. She should have left it alone.

Ten long minutes passed with another commercial
break and a promotional trailer we’d shot for a car company. Then the host
finally sent Hayley back to her seat. She looked like she hadn’t doubted that
she was going back.
 
I
was trying like hell to, if not feel confident, at least look it.
I
knew that fucking camera was on me.
I
was reminded of the old adage that news people used: If it bleeds, it leads.
During the elimination rounds, they kept a camera tight on the faces of those
in the bottom three, hoping to spot blood.

I
glanced over at Brooke. She had tears dried on her face and she had her stool
swiveled so her back was both to
me and the cameras
.
She apparently hadn’t told anyone what she was threatening to about
me
and Elly—not that I gave a shit if she did or not. If
I
win this thing, that’s great. If
I
get disqualified for having the best sex I’d ever had, it was still worth it.
Besides, as long as Elly didn’t confess, as long as she didn’t have pictures or
audio tape, we could deny it.

When the host called us both to the center of the
stage, he asked the judges if they thought the voters had gotten it right by
putting the two of us in the bottom. The judges agreed that by last night’s
performance alone, we should both be going home. Then the host went on to say
that the votes had been closer than they’d ever come before. The one of us who
was staying had only beaten the other one by less than a hundred votes.
Considering that millions voted, that was a slim margin. If
I
wasn’t going home, I was doing it by the skin of my teeth, as I should be.

At last, after all the host’s time-filling drama he
said, “Brooke, I’m sorry, honey, but you’re going home tonight. Tristan, have a
seat.”
I
suddenly realized that I’d been afraid to
breathe all night.
I
took a big, deep breath and went
to take my seat.
I
hoped that my face didn’t betray
how worried I had been.

Brooke was crying, but silently.
I
had to give her kudos for taking the microphone and singing her song. She did
have a pretty voice, and she was a pretty girl.
I
didn’t doubt that someday she’d find someone willing to bank on those two
things. She’d be okay.

When the show was over and everyone was scattering
for the night,
I
went to look for Elly. She was
standing in the back of one of the conference rooms talking to that other chick
that works the contestant room.
I
walked up to her
with the rehab papers in my hand. They
were completely filled
out and signed
.
 
I
could hear them talking about going out the following
night for someone’s birthday.

As
I
approached them, they
both stopped talking and looked up. Elly looked like she was going to have a
heart attack and the other girl, who sensed something was up, or maybe even
knew, said, “I’ll give you guys a minute.” After she walked away, Elly was
still looking around the room like a paranoid schizophrenic.
I
swear she almost looked like she was hearing voices.

“What the hell are you looking for?”
I
asked her.

“I was making sure that no one saw us. Damn it,
Tristan,
I
keep telling you that we can’t be seen
together. I can’t afford to lose my job, and I don’t want you to get
disqualified.”

“And I keep telling you that I don’t give a shit,”
I
told her. “Here!”
I
shoved the
papers against her chest. She took a step backwards; maybe it was from the
shove
I
gave her. Giving
me
a
dirty look, she brought them up and looked at them. She flipped through them
and saw that
I
’d filled them out completely and signed
them. She looked surprised, and then happy. She hadn’t expected
me
to agree to it.

“This is great, Tristan…I’m so glad….” she started.
I
wasn’t in the mood for more talk.

“Yeah, yeah…blah, blah, blah.
I
did my part. I want my reward.”

“What?”

“You said if I cut off the other women and filled
out the papers we could have sex. I want my sex.”

“Not here, Tristan. Come on, you’re putting us both
at risk here. Besides, filling out the paperwork isn’t the same as committing
to it.” She backed away from
me
a bit.

“I’m committing.
I
will
leave them with you so you can go turn them in. Are you backing out of your
part now?”

She looked around. “No…just not here…we’re going to
get caught….”

I
sighed. “For the millionth time, I don’t give a fuck about that,”
I
told her. There was an empty office next to us.
I
grabbed her arm and pulled her in after me, closing the
door behind us. She looked like she was having an anxiety attack. She really
needed to lighten up.

She looked terrified. “Tristan, someone is going to
come in here. This is too risky.”

I
turned back around and locked the door. Before she could protest,
I
shoved everything that was on the desk off into a chair,
picked her up, and sat her on the desk. She was looking at me
like
I’d lost my mind.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

ELLY

I
thought Tristan had lost his mind as I watched him sweep everything off the
desk.
“Tristan!
Someone is going to hear us!”

He grinned at
me
, as if it
was a game.
I
started to speak again, but he leaned
forward and covered my mouth with his. As he did, he put his hands on
my
bare knees and started sliding them up my thighs, pushing
my skirt up out of his way as he went. His touch sent a jolt surging through
my
body.
I
had missed it more than
I wanted to admit. He kept moving his hands up until
my
skirt was flipped up over my hips. Then he moved them to
my
waist and started pushing up my blouse.

I
’d
lost any sense of resistance by then, and when his palms ran across the curve
of my breasts, I put my arms up and let him push the shirt up off of me. He
continued to kiss
me
, moving his hands across my
collarbone and neck, sliding his fingers into my hair and tugging on it as his
tongue explored my mouth.
I
had been a bundle of
nerves when he’d pushed me into the office, but as soon as he’d touched me, the
tension had released—almost violently.

I
was meeting his kiss with a frantic kind of hunger, pushing in my tongue,
nipping at his lips with my teeth, and wrapping my own fingers up in his hair.
He let out a little moan as
I
tugged on it. That only
served to fuel the fire that was burning inside of
me
.

Tristan reached around and unhooked
my
bra. As soon as
my
breasts
escaped their binds, he’d broken our kiss and sucked one hard, dark, nipple
into his mouth. He rolled it around on his tongue as
I
felt a forceful, hot rush of liquid gather between my legs. He kept opening his
mouth wider, first taking in the whole areola, and then most of the breast. It
was the first time in
my
life that I was happy my tits
were somewhat small. It felt so damn good, coupled with the feel of his hot
hands still roaming the rest of
my
body.

He found the zipper on the side of
my
skirt and pulled it down while still driving me crazy
with his mouth on the other nipple now. He was biting at it, wild,
like
an animal, and I fucking loved it. It didn’t hurt;
instead, it sent waves of ecstasy through
my
body and
straight to my soaking wet, hot pussy. He lifted
me
under my arms slightly and I knew what he wanted.
I
pushed the skirt off and I realized later that I should have done the same with
the panties. Tristan didn’t have the patience to screw with those. Instead of
lifting
me
up again he grabbed either side of my
panties in his hands, flexed and ripped them off my body.
I
couldn’t help but squeal, and I pushed down on the desk with my arms, lifting
my ass up enough for him to pull the shreds that were left down off my legs.

He stepped back then and
I
had a chance to catch my breath as he dropped his pants.
I
tried not to think about what I would look like if someone opened the door
right now.
My
naked ass was sitting on the edge of the
desk with my legs splayed open wide for him. He was obviously as turned on as
I
was, as evidenced by the rock hard cock that came out of
his pants. He pulled off his shirt and moved forward, sliding easily into
my
wetness.
I
wrapped my arms
around his neck and my legs around his waist as put his hands on mine and
pulled me more fully onto his cock. The feeling that
I
got when he was inside of me was indescribable.
I
’d
never felt anything like it; it spoke to every fiber in my body. He wasn’t
taking it slow at all—he was pounding into
me
hard
with each thrust ending in a slap as our bodies lashed together.

Tristan slipped his arms underneath
my
legs then and grabbed my ass in his hands, picking me up
off the desk.
I
tightened my grip around his neck and
held on while he moved me up and down, grinding me against him. His cock
was buried
as deep inside of me as he could get it, and each
time he slid me down, most of my own weight landed against him on my engorged
clit—the shock waves threatened to cause my head to explode.
I
knew that I was being too loud, but I couldn’t seem to stop the long,
shuddering moans and grunts coming from somewhere deep inside me. About the
time
I
thought it couldn’t possibly feel any better,
he proved me wrong. He took a wider stance and instead of up and down, he
started moving
me
in and out.
My
moans and grunts morphed into gasps and little squeaks.
I
wished we were anywhere but there so I could scream.
I
felt like I needed that release.
I
had my teeth
tightly clenched, trying to hold back the screams of passion that were lodged
in my throat.

He slammed against
me
harder and faster.
I
held onto his neck, grazing it
with my nails like a drowning woman being pulled from the sea.
My
body began to spasm and I gouged my nails in deeper
without thought as to what kind of marks I might be leaving on him or the pain
it caused.
I
was in the throes of an orgasm that was
coming from a place deeper inside of me than I’d ever felt before. The sound
that finally escaped along with the rush of the orgasm was somewhere between a
scream and a groan. It was a deep, throaty noise and it was a lot louder than
I
’d thought it would be until I heard it.
I
was enjoying myself too much to wonder if anyone could hear me. As Tristan
would say,
I
didn’t give a fuck.

He held
me
tight through my
orgasm, keeping the same motion and continuing to dive into me while my whole
body clenched up tight. I gasped for air while he man-handled me until I
finally came down from my high and he stopped moving, just letting me deflate
into him like a rag doll. He took a step forward and sat
me
back down on the desk.
I
lay back, still trying to get
my strength back. Tristan was far from finished. He grabbed
my
hips and slid me towards him. Then he held
my
legs up
with his hands on my ankles and slid back into me.

Now that our passion was somewhat sated, we were
able to go a little slower and spend a little more time just taking it all in.
He caressed
my
legs as he slid in and out of me and,
surprising me, he said, “God I missed this.” It was unlike him to disclose
anything that he was feeling, even that much. Hearing from his own lips that
he’d missed
me
was like an aphrodisiac. As he slid his
hands down
my
legs and cupped my ass cheeks with his
hands he said, “Just thinking about this ass makes me hard. Just watching you
walk around makes me
want
to crawl up between your
legs and devour you.”