Ladies Love Rock Stars: Taming the Bad Boys of Rock and Roll

by D'Ann Lindun

Her walls clenched around him as she came. “Johnny!”

  With a final push, he groaned and spilled his hot essence deep inside her womb.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Johnny lay on his back, staring at the bunk above. Montana rested across him, dozing. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest, one leg lodged between his thighs. He brushed a hand over her hair and she shifted.

  Already his cock was upright and ready to go again. He could chalk his desire to not getting laid in almost half a year, but it was more than that. This woman drove him crazy. Unlike Teal and others before her, Montana’s sweet innocence had been unbelievably hot. She had made him wild.

  Somehow, she’d broken through the ice surrounding his frozen heart.

  He was falling hard for her.

  What the fuck?

  He was getting as bad as any chick mistaking a good time for love.

  Where was Joel when Johnny needed him? He desperately wanted his manager to talk him down. To make some sense of these unfamiliar feelings. To tell him to fuck her good and forget about it. The last time he’d made the big-ass blunder of mistaking great screwing for love, he’d ended up married.

  Johnny had thought he loved Teal. But now when he thought about his ex, he realized he’d like to fuck her six ways to Sunday, but any real emotion had been missing.

  Nothing like what he felt for Montana.

  She made him laugh, she made him think.

  And damn, she drove him insane between the sheets.

  He had to leave soon; he couldn’t stay. His life was in L.A., not this remote Colorado camp. None of this was real. It was a nice interlude, but he had to go home. Recording the new songs for Betrayed would start soon and he had to get his head on business. There was no room in his life for a long-distance relationship.

  A relationship?

  A tumble, no matter how great, didn’t create a lifetime bond. He had to remember that before he got himself into another tangle he couldn’t shake free from. Just because he had to go back to L.A. in a few days, there was no reason they couldn’t both have a good time while he was here.

  Where was the vodka? He needed a stiff drink.

  Montana’s knee nudged his balls and he moved a little so she didn’t rack him. The movement woke her.

  She opened her gray eyes, blinking like a sleepy little kitten. Her cheek rested against his chest, right over his pounding heart. “Hi.”

  Johnny tightened his hold on her. “Hello, gorgeous.”

  Her left hand splayed across his abdomen. She fluttered her fingers. He desperately wished she would drop them down a few inches and wrap them around his cock.

  He cupped his hand over her breast and squeezed. “Why don’t you scoot up here and put this in my mouth?”

  Hesitating only a moment, she straddled his stomach and leaned forward to press her mouth to his. Letting her take the lead, Johnny dropped his hands to his sides as she explored the seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue. When he opened his mouth, she darted inside then back out, as if she were amazed by her own daring.

  The kiss was sweet, almost shy.

  The next time she did it, he closed his lips around her tongue, holding it captive. He sucked, making her whimper. That little sound drove him crazy. His pecker lifted in anticipation. Raising his hands, he grabbed her hips, resisting the impulse to lift her and impale on her on his eager cock. Instead, he let go of her hips and covered her breasts with his palms. Why had he ever thought he liked big fake tits? Montana’s smallish breasts fit exactly into his hands and were just right. Perfect size. Perfect shape. Perfect taste.

  He dragged his mouth from hers and, wrapping his hands around the middle of her back, urged her to move up so he could tease her nipples with his lips. He eyed them for a moment. Pretty, the color of pink pearls. How could something so delicate be so firm? Taking one between his teeth, he bit down gently until she half whimpered and half sighed. Although it seemed impossible, her breasts plumped and swelled under his laving.

  She wrapped her fingers in his hair as if she would never let go. His scalp tingled at the intense hold she had on him, but he wouldn’t have asked her to release him for anything.

  With his free hand, he slid between them and found her clit and tormented until she jerked every time his finger slid across the slick nub.

  “I like that,” she gasped.

  “Not as much as I do, baby.”

  Her fingers tightened their hold. “Do it again.”

  “Whatever you say.” Turning his hand over so that his palm cupped her, he slid a finger inside her pussy. So fucking wet and tight. He pressed deep. Her muscles clenched around his finger. Holy shit! Was it possible for a guy to come by fingering a chick?

  Montana gasped. “Johnny? I need you—” he pushed in again and she arched her back, tugging her breast from his mouth “—now.”

  Lifting her by the hips, he positioned her over his cock. She placed her palms on his chest and lowered herself onto his erection inch by agonizing inch until she held him fully encased. For several moments, she sat letting her body accommodate his size.

  He rarely let his partner lead, but curiosity about where Montana would take him convinced him to let her direct. He placed his hands on her hips, but let her set the pace. Her eyes closed as she rocked her pelvis against his. Gradually her motion increased until she rose up then down, riding him like a merry-go-round pony.

  Gritting his teeth, he fought for control. He couldn’t have been more turned on if he tried. His balls drew up tight. He couldn’t wait much longer.

  “Montana,” he ground out.

  She responded by curling her fingers into his chest, her nails biting his skin like talons.

  As her pussy began to convulse around him, he thrust up into her. There was no stopping, no turning back.

  “Come for me, baby,” he grunted.

  He slipped his fingers between them and flicked her clit.

  She screamed as an orgasm washed over her and she slumped forward.

  If it wasn’t for her tightening around his thrusting cock, he might’ve thought she’d passed out on his sweat-slickened chest. He lifted his hips, pushing impossibly deep, reaching for his own climax. He came with a force that rocked him. Tremors shook his body as his balls pulled up, forcing his seed deep into her.

  A mighty roar came from somewhere near his toes, shattering the silence in the cabin. He bellowed as loud as if he were in an arena with seventy-thousand fans screaming his name. Raw. Primal. Free.

  The walls of the cabin may have shaken. He wasn’t sure.

  Near his ear, Montana’s harsh breathing made his dick give one last quiver. Her hair hung over his face and he brushed it away. Her skin was flushed rosy and dewy from exertion. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a prettier woman, even with the bandages on her forehead. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her off his spent dick and placed her in the crook of his arm.

  She closed her eyes, and the sound of their intermingled breathing filled the silence. Had she fallen asleep?

  Usually Johnny couldn’t wait for a woman to get out of his bed when they were done screwing; he hated the whole cuddle thing. All the chatter and trying to dig inside his head, when all he wanted was a drink and some sleep.

  “Montana?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Your head okay?”

  “Fine.” She sighed. “A little achy.”

  “You thirsty?”

  “I’d love a drink.” She reached for the blanket. “It’s getting chilly.”

  “Don’t go away.” Rolling to his side, he stood and covered her as tenderly as if she were a small child.

  “Thank you.” She smiled sleepily.

  By the time he stoked the fire, found his vodka then climbed back onto the bunk, Montana had fallen into a deep sleep, snoring softly. He pushed a couple pillows behind his head and leaned against them, pulling her into his arms. With his free hand, he lifted the bottle to his lips.

  T
he hot sting of the drink burned down his throat and boiled into his belly. In a minute or two, his old friend would start kicking his demons’ asses, keeping them at bay. Those bastards didn’t seem as fierce today. He set the vodka beside the bed and closed his eyes.

  The lyrics he’d been working on came to mind. He wished he’d brought Ryan’s guitar, but he hadn’t expected to stay more than a night, so he’d left it behind. His hand rested on Montana’s bare back and he absently ran it across her silky skin as he arranged and rearranged lyrics in his head.

  The song was nearly perfect.

  Setting it to music and recording it for the album was nearly a done deal.

  ~*~

  Montana woke a little disoriented.

  She lay spooned by a big, warm body. An erection pressed to her backside.

  Johnny.

  Memories of what they’d done flashed through her head. Dear God. She’d made love with him. She didn’t regret a moment. And she never would. Long after he went back to his life and she hers, she’d have this day to hold on to.

  “You awake, sleepyhead?” His voice rumbled near her ear.

  “Starving.”

  “For food?” Laughter colored his voice.

  Her stomach pinched, thinking of lunch, but his rigid penis interested her more. “Later.”

  When he reached over her ribs and pinched her nipple, she writhed against his hand. He slid his hand down her ribcage and hip, over her ass to her vagina. “You too sore?”

  Mute, she shook her head.

  With a gentle, persistent pressure he entered her from behind with his middle finger. She held her breath and her body tensed as he teased her channel. “Relax,” he whispered. “Open up for me.”

  A shudder ripped up her spine. “Please.”

  “I love your pussy,” he said. “So nice and tight.”

  A moan slid out of her. “I want—”

  “I know,” he murmured. “Patience.”

  He nipped her shoulder and she inched her leg up. “Johnny—”

  Her body tightened. He removed his finger and she moaned in frustration. He pressed again, this time sliding two fingers inside. She thrashed her head as he pushed deep into her sex. “You’re so tight, baby. I love the way you feel around my cock.”

  “I want you inside me,” she begged. The covers wrapped around them like arms, holding them close.

  “Not yet.” He nipped her shoulder again. “I need you wet for me.”

  “Please.” Frustration filled her voice.

  He removed his hand and edged his cock to the place his fingers had just vacated. “You ready, baby?”

  “Take me now.”

  His dick pushed into her and she clenched around him. She wrapped her hands in the blankets as his pulsing cock assaulted her.

  “Oh, God.”

  Johnny slid his hand over her hip and between her legs. She moved her knee so he had full access and he took advantage, pinching her clit, soaked with her own fluids.

  A scream gurgled out of her throat as he rocked her over the edge. She came in a wet, hot gush that flooded them both.

  Moments later he grunted, pushed deep and yelled her name.

  ~*~

  Montana lost count of the times they’d made love by the time early evening rolled around. The man had endless libido with the stamina of a dozen men. Finally, he’d fallen asleep, lying on his back with her sprawled across his chest.

  She rose up on her elbow to study his profile.

  He hadn’t shaved, in spite of his threat to do so, and she found she liked the feel of his scruff on her skin. Resisting the urge to smooth a hand over his cheek, she dropped her gaze to his hair and wrapped a strand around her fingers. Never in her life had she liked a man with long hair. Now she couldn’t imagine loving anyone without it.

  Love?

  Her heart constricted. She’d gone and fallen for the rock star. Just like she’d been warned not to. It was going to rip her guts out when he left. Getting over him would take forever. No one could ever make her feel the way he did. There wasn’t even any reason to try.

  He opened his eyes and turned his head toward her. “How long have I slept?”

  “About an hour, I think.”

  “I really zonked out.” He pulled her close and dropped a light kiss on her mouth.

  “You were tired.”

  “You wore me out, sugar.”

  Her lips curved up in a teasing smile. “Oh, yeah? I was just getting warmed up…”

  “I’ll show you warmed up.” With a quick maneuver, he flipped her onto her back. Settling between her thighs, he growled against her neck. “Feel that?”

  “I feel you.” She giggled.

  He kissed her, slow and lingering. When he lifted his head, he said, “Baby, you’ve got me all jacked up. I can’t believe I’m ready to make love again.”

  Make love?

  The man who’d told her he wanted to fuck her in every way possible had just said make love?

  Could he have feelings for her?

  As soon as the thought entered her brain, Montana banished it. Such ideas would only get her badly hurt. She had to remember that even though her heart was getting entangled, for him this was just a good time.

  She pushed his chest. “Let me up.”

  “Was it something I said?”

  “Not at all, but I’ll waste away without food.”

  Abruptly, he rolled off her and stood. He tugged on his sweats and boots. “I’m going outside for a minute. I’ll check the horses while I’m out there.”

  “Thanks.”

  As soon as he left, Montana dressed. Moving toward the stove, she winced. Although a considerate lover, Johnny was a big man and he’d loved her well. Another good soak in the hot springs sounded wonderful.

  They should have headed back toward their own camp, but the day spent in Johnny’s embrace had passed so quickly. No one would mess with her campsite, but it made Montana uneasy leaving it too long. They’d have to head out at first light, hunting as they made their way down the mountain. A pang of regret filled her. Reality hovered only a couple days away.

  Charlie had left a pre-cooked ham and blocks of cheese for them. Thankful she didn’t have to cook, Montana found a knife and sliced both. Homemade bread and a bag of chips completed the meal.

  In the cooler she found beer and removed two. Too hungry to wait for Johnny, she cut a slice of cheese and nibbled it. What was keeping him? He’d been gone forever. Had something happened?

  Suddenly worried, she pushed away the snack. Grabbing her coat, she headed for the door. She was still pulling on her gloves when the door burst open.

  The look on Johnny’s face told her something was wrong. “What? What is it?”

  “The horses are gone.”

  She stood on tiptoe to peer over his shoulder. “That’s impossible.”

  The look on his face told her it wasn’t. “I looked everywhere. They took off.”

  Reeling back, Montana grabbed the door for support. “My horses wouldn’t do something like that unless someone led them away.”

  He stepped inside. “Who would do that?”

  They looked at each other and spoke nearly in unison.

  “Tom.”

  “Mr. Football Dick.”

  Montana staggered back to the nearest chair and plopped into it. “Why?”

  “Because he’s a prick?”

  “That’s a given.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe this. Leaving someone on foot in this country is a crime.”

  “When I catch up to that motherfucker I’m going to give him the ass kickin’ he’s beggin’ for.” Johnny stomped around the cabin.

  “Not if I get hold of him first,” Montana vowed. “I’ll tear him apart limb by limb.”

  “We have to hurry if we’re going to catch them.” Johnny began rummaging through his duffle bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going after that son of a bitch.”

  Monta
na jumped up and grabbed his sleeve. “Johnny. Listen to me.”

  He paused to look at her. “What?”

  “It’s a mistake to leave here tonight. It’s already dark and the trail is rough even in daylight. Night could make it deadly. If one of us missed a step and fell off a cliff…” She tightened her grip on his arm. “If Tom is riding, he has too much of a head start for us to catch him. People on foot can’t move as quickly as horses. It makes more sense to spend the night here and take off first thing in the morning.”

  Slowly, he lowered his hands. “I guess you’re right.”

  “I know I am.”

  “Tom Kerrigan best be saying his prayers,” Johnny said. “Because he’s going to need them.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Dawn rolled around way too soon.

  When Montana wiggled in Johnny’s tight embrace, he pulled her closer. “Stay.”

  “I can’t,” she murmured. “We’ve got to get up.”

  “Already am.” Johnny tugged her close.

  Hard again. How could he be so insatiable? They’d made love all night long. The last thing Montana wanted to do was leave Johnny’s arms and their little hideaway, but the inclement weather left them no choice. Last night, when they’d soaked in the hot springs, heavy snow clouds hovered, threatening to open up and dump tons of the wet, cold stuff. If they didn’t leave soon they might be trapped until spring. Or at least until a chopper could get to them.

  She wouldn’t mind staying holed up for months with Johnny, but they might get a little hungry by spring. Charlie had left supplies for a week, not months. Come to think of it, there might be enough food because they’d barely eaten, spending most of their time in bed.

  Recalling the previous night made her body dampen. How she could possibly want to make love again after all the times they’d indulged, she had no idea. Her spirit might be willing, but her body wouldn’t be up for another go-round so soon. Sadness filled her. This affair was nearly over.

  She forced herself to push out of his arms. “Come on, sleepyhead. It’s a long walk to camp.”

  He muttered a filthy curse, then shoved back the covers. He stood while Montana admired his bare backside. Nice, so very nice.