Rock Me

by Alla Kar

Was that supposed to fit inside of me?

  I was suddenly panicked and he must have seen it on my face. Grabbing me underneath my waist, he slung me higher onto his bed and hovered over me. He was a giant compared to my five foot two inches, but so gentle when his fingers brushed against my cheek.

  “You’re nervous.”

  It wasn’t a question. “You’re big,” I whispered out, trying to keep my cheeks from turning an even brighter red. Not only was I losing my virginity and he didn’t know it but I was losing my virginity to someone who was very blessed down there.

  He grinned. “So I hear. I can take it easy on you, baby. But if you’re not sure we can stop. My bed is big enough for two.”

  Sleep with him? Without sex? I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and pushed aside my nerves. Every girl has their first time sometime. And I was going to have mine with Paxton. I didn’t even know his last name. What was wrong with me?

  “I’m fine,” I whispered. “Just be gentle.”

  His eyes searched my face and he nodded to me. “I’ll be gentle, Princess. Let me know if I hurt you.”

  Hurt me. I mentally cringed but gave him a sexy smile that showed all of my fake confidence. He leaned over me and pulled out a condom from his nightstand and tore it with his teeth before rolling it over his length.

  Oh, god. Oh, god. Ohmigod. This is it. This is it.

  I was panting and he hadn’t even entered me yet. Paxton gripped my chin and lifted my lips to meet his. His tongue danced inside of my mouth, lapping and nibbling at my lips. I was drowning in him when I felt him slide into me.

  Oh. Ouch! My legs clenched around him and I bit down hard on his lip. He pulled away, his eyes heated and stared down at me. A drop of blood fell from his lip but before I could apologize his grin widened.

  Bracing his elbow beside my head, he let his head drop forward and he growled. “Fuck,” he yelled. He slid further, and I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth, my body humming from the burning sensation below. “Goddamn—fuck! You feel like a fucking virgin, Sugar. Shit!” he yelled again, plunging all the way into me.

  A scream ripped from my throat, and I felt like I’d been ripped open, only for Paxton to quicken his pace and rip my dress from my body all at once.

  Everything was happening so fast. My heartbeat was in my throat. His wide palms engulfed my tiny waist as he dug into me like he wanted to get deeper and couldn’t get close enough.

  The stinging pain was fading away and each thrust was getting better and better. My moments of nerves were drifting from me, and my body was rolling up to meet his hips but his thrusts were too quick to keep pace.

  He was devouring me.

  All of me.

  Cupping my neck, he lowered his mouth and kissed me, spreading me wider with his body, but devouring my mouth. The building sensation in my lower stomach was building higher and higher. Paxton’s lips broke from my own, and he bit down on my neck and I erupted. “That’s right, baby. Just feel,” he whispered.

  Trembling against him, my legs began to shake erratically and my mouth opened up with sounds I’d never thought my own mouth would say.

  “Christ,” Paxton ground out, pulling back and slamming into me faster. His blue eyes closed, his head tilted back, his body tightened and then he jerked inside of me, a growl leaving his mouth.

  Sex.

  I had sex.

  And it was wonderful. Well, after the whole pinching sensation went away, it really was.

  Paxton pulled from me and my sex ached at the movement. I was sore, mega sore. “You okay, Princess?” he asked, smiling down at me. “I normally last longer than that. You were fucking tight, baby.”

  My cheeks heated and Paxton laughed before bending down to kiss my lips softly. When he pulled back he grabbed for the condom and froze.

  When I looked I saw why. Blood. Why did I think I wouldn’t bleed? I knew I would and suddenly I felt so stupid. Hadn’t Valeria said something about that in the text?

  Oh, God. I felt sick.

  Paxton’s eyes darted up toward me. “You’re a virgin, Stephanie?”

  I paled. It was hard to hear over my heavy breathing and the pressure of embarrassment in my ears. “Stephanie, why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin? I—I just fucking deflowered you. Are you even eighteen?”

  I scurried up and out of the bed to grab my clothes. I had to leave. My dress was in shards on the floor and I almost cried.

  The only clothing I had was my bra and panties. No. No. No. This is not happening.

  “Stephanie,” Paxton said from behind me.

  I ignored him and fumbled for his gray t-shirt he had tossed to the side. “Stephanie, wait,” he said again.

  I slipped the shirt over me only to be reminded how good he smelled. Why did I do this?

  “Stephanie!” he screamed and I turned around to face him.

  He had on a pair of basketball shorts and my torn dress in his hand. “Look at me.”

  I frowned but looked up to meet his piercing gaze. I wish I hadn’t. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were a virgin?”

  “I didn’t want to scare you off.”

  He laughed bitterly. “Oh yeah? But me finding blood on my dick is better, right? Why …” he looked down and clenched his fists. “Why did you let me fuck you like that? Don’t you know you’re supposed to have your first time with someone special?”

  Anger clogged my throat. Not that I thought he was special because I’d just met him. But because I hadn’t had anyone special.

  “It’s none of your freaking business!” I yelled.

  His eyebrows shot up and he almost looked amused, but then his jaw clenched. That’s my cue to leave. Grabbing my purse from the floor, I turned and ran for my freaking life.

  That was not what I expected.

  Chapter Two

  Paxton

  I finally found a girl that didn’t want me because of my status and turns out she’s a virgin. I should have known. The signs were all there. Innocent, wide-eyed, blushing at absolutely everything I said. Tight as fucking hell. God, it was so good.

  I deflowered a girl last night, something I told myself I would never do unless I was marrying her. And since I didn’t know the girl last night from Adam, and only knew her first name, I highly doubted that I’d be getting down on one knee anytime soon.

  I had just wanted to taste that pretty mouth so, so bad. I devoured it. And if I hadn’t looked down to see my dick covered in blood, I would have done so much more to that mouth.

  My alarm clock was screaming at me to get up, and it took me four minutes to drag myself out of bed. I untangled my sheets to make my bed, a habit I picked up from the orphanage, and stopped when I found the remaining shards of her dress.

  She’d looked so good in it too. Delicate curves and longs legs. She had me the minute I saw her sitting at the bar. Wide-eyed and observant of everything around her. She was beautiful and of course I went after her with no intention of her saying no to me. I wanted that mouth to say ‘yes,’ over and over again.

  But she was a virgin. I swore I saw tears when she ran out of my house, and by the time I got outside she was nowhere to be seen. I had no idea where she went, or how she got home but she was gone. It hurt my gut and I had no idea why, I’d just met the girl.

  I tossed the dress in the trash, along with the memories of last night, and hurried to pack my things.

  I grabbed my suitcase and made one last sweep of my house before I left. I was going to be gone for four months on tour with Fringe and I hadn’t even met them yet.

  After getting kicked out of my last band, I told my agent I was not working with just anyone. And when he came back to tell me that Fringe needed a new guitarist, I wanted to break something. It wasn’t that they sucked or anything, but they just weren’t my style. It was like comparing Maroon 5 to Kings of Leon. Just different.

  But when a week went by with no other luck, and Fringe was leaving for their summer tour, I had nowhere to go bu
t with them. They sent me the sheet music to their playlists, and I’d nailed them easily. But performing yourself and actually performing with the band was two different things entirely.

  I locked my doors, and got into my truck to leave. Her perfume still lingered in the air and my dick stiffened when I thought about last night. God, did she have to be a virgin? I didn’t know any guy that wanted that kind of pressure for a hookup.

  By the time I got to the studio, the tour bus was parked out front waiting to be loaded. The office building was huge, and it took me a while to find where Mr. King’s, my new manager’s, office was.

  There was a lobby area where a receptionist informed me that the members were down the hall in the break room. I was nervous and I hated being nervous. I tossed my suitcase over my shoulder and started down the hall.

  “—are you kidding me? What is this?”

  I stopped and turned my head to the right.

  An office door was slightly cracked with two small door length windows on each side.

  “Where were you last night, Missy? You’re all over the tabloids.”

  Missy? My agent said that was Mr. King’s daughter’s name. I’d never seen her before but I heard she was real pretty but kept her legs closed. Good, girl. But by the sounds of their conversation, I would have guessed she might have opened them.

  I took a look down the hallway before leaning over and glancing into the window. Mr. King was leaning back against his desk, covering his face and shaking his head. Who I assumed was his daughter, was sitting in a chair in front of his desk with her head down.

  All I could see was the blond hair. And then he started waving the newspaper around again.

  What had she done?

  The blond shot up from her chair and I scooted back and waited for them to exit. I’d never make the long run to the break room at the opposite end of the hall.

  The door swung open.

  What the—

  Stephanie walked out of the office, eyes puffy red and tear streaks running down her porcelain face. Her blue eyes lifted to mine and widened before her mouth popped opened.

  “Missy,” Mr. King said coasting her along further out of the doorway.

  “Oh,” he said.

  But I was staring at her. Gawking. My dick was pressing against my zipper and I wanted to—I didn’t know but I wanted to do something.

  “You must be Paxton Evers.”

  Oh, shit. “Yes, sir,” I said, dragging my eyes away from her worried face and up to his. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  He slapped my shoulder and sank his fingers through his jet-black hair. “This is our new guitarist, Missy. Paxton, this is my daughter, Missy King.”

  Missy? She told me her name was Stephanie. For some reason that made me furious, but I bit it back with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Missy,” I said.

  She sniffed, suddenly distracted by her phone. “You too.”

  “Put that away,” he demanded. “And go get your bags packed. Actually just hand that here because you’re staying away from Val and her bad influences. Now go.”

  Her cheeks were bright red, but she handed her phone over, turned on her heels and marched out of the hallway. It took everything I had not to turn and watch that perfect ass walk away. Why did he tell her to get her bags packed? I was sweating like a tenth grader meeting his girlfriend’s parents for the first time.

  “My daughter,” he mumbled before tossing the newspaper into the nearest waiting chair outside his office. “Don’t ever have kids, son.” He slapped my shoulder.

  Wasn’t planning on it—not now anyway.

  “Come on with me, and we’ll meet the band.”

  He turned to lock his door and I peeked down at the newspaper and my eyes widened. Steph—Missy was pressed against the outside of a club and a guy was sucking on her neck. That said guy being me.

  I swallowed and read the headline quickly.

  “Patrick King’s daughter, Missy King, ruins her ‘Good Girl’ reputation after making out with mystery guy outside of club.”

  He turned and gestured down the hallway. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ah, hell.

  ***

  Nick lugged my suitcase into the storage on the side of the bus and turned back to look at me.

  He looked nothing like his sister. She was blond hair and blue eyed and he was dark hair and brown eyed like his dad. I wondered what their mom looked like.

  But they both had the ‘goody-goody’ thing down pat.

  “You been studying the sheet music?” he asked, and headed toward the bus.

  “Yeah,” I said following suit. “I think I’ve got it. Just anxious to start playing. My fingers are itching.”

  He laughed. “We’ll be in Phoenix tomorrow morning and we’ll practice then. Dillon brought a DVD of us playing our songs that you can watch to help. It’s somewhere around here.”

  He started digging around while I took in my new home. Four months on a tour bus with numerous hotels and cities behind us. It was always thrilling be on the open road for months, your home moving you from place to place.

  The bus was huge, with two small bedrooms down stairs, with a kitchenette and entertainment system.

  “Found it,” Nick said, and tossed me the DVD. “Dillon and I called dibs on the downstairs, and you get the top.”

  Sounded good to me.

  We took the spiral staircase and entered an open floor with—two beds. I furrowed my brow but tossed my guitar onto the bed closest to me.

  “You’ve got your own bathroom too. There is food downstairs if you’re—,” he trailed off when the bathroom door opened and Missy stepped out.

  She stilled.

  “What are you doing in here?” Nick asked.

  She sucked her lip into her mouth and started fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “Dad told me I had to ride with you.”

  “What?” Nick yelled.

  What, was right! She couldn’t ride with us. Why was she even coming? She said she was eighteen; didn’t that make her an adult? And I was sure she didn’t want to spend four months with me. The dick that fucked her way too hard for her first time.

  She sighed. “It’s because Ginger is coming along and you know they have this affair going on to—,”

  “Shut your mouth, Missy,” Nick said, silencing her.

  I bit my tongue to keep from saying something. Even if I was beyond pissed at her for lying to me, she could say what she wanted to.

  “Well,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “I guess you’ll be sharing this with my sister. If she bothers you, let me know,” he said.

  I nodded and he left me standing in the room with the girl I deflowered last night.

  She shifted her gaze quickly and started unpacking her bag into a small closet to the right of her bed. My fingers clenched because I wanted to say something—anything, but I had no idea what to say.

  She bent over to pick up a pair of shoes and her tiny shorts rode up her legs, showing me the thighs that were wrapped around my waist the night before.

  Ah, fuck.

  Chapter Three

  Missy

  He’s here.

  Of all the people—guitarist—in the world, it had to be him. I pretended to straighten a pair of my shoes sitting below the edge of my bed. But in reality I could feel his eyes on the back of me. And I knew what view he was getting.

  I stood up quickly and turned to face him. His blue eyes were narrowed and daring me to look away. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, his chest started to move in quick heaves.

  I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth.

  “What did I tell you about that lip, Stephanie?”

  Oh, shoot. Heat scorched my neck and my heart beat hammered loudly in my eardrums. “Isn’t that what you said your name was, Missy?” He took a step toward me.

  “Shut up,” I whispered.

  Paxton raised a brow and took another step f
orward until he was hovering over me. My racing heart tripled in my chest, and I felt like I could taste it. “Isn’t that what you said your name was, Missy? Last night when I had sex with you?”

  “Shut up!” I yelled.

  He smiled, sliding his tongue over his bottom lip, giving me a flash of the metal ring. “You think it’s funny to lie to people? I just ruined you. Your first time is supposed to be gentle—special. Why in the hell—,”

  Reaching down, I grabbed one of the shoes and tossed it at his head. He ducked, but I had already grabbed my laptop and was locking myself in the bathroom by the time he charged toward me.

  His fist rattled the wall as soon as I turned the lock and fumbled backwards to sit on the closed toilet.

  “Missy,” Paxton said. “Let me in. Now.”

  “Go away.”

  He mumbled something softly and then I saw the shadow from his feet disappear from underneath the door.

  What in the hell? What did he think we were going to accomplish with this conversation? I knew I shouldn’t have surprised him with my little ‘issue’ but I didn’t want him to run. And I thought I would never see the guy again.

  I took a much needed breath and opened up my laptop. Dad thought taking away my phone, like I was a five-year-old in front of the guy I had my first time with, would keep me away from Val. He was wrong.

  I clicked the blue Skype icon and clicked on Val’s name. Please answer.

  The screen clicked on and her pretty green eyes and brown hair filled the screen. “Miss me already?”

  I nodded. “You have no idea. Dad took my phone away. Someone caught me outside of the club last night.”

  She frowned. “No wonder you never text me back. Where are you? Is that a toilet? And what the in HELL happened last night?

  “I’m in the bathroom hiding. Val—he’s here.”

  She lifted a brow. “Who is there?”

  I looked at the door to make sure I didn’t see his shadow. “Paxton. The guy I slept with last night.”

  Her mouth popped open. “No freaking way! Where is he?”

  I leaned my head backwards and closed my eyes. “In my bedroom. We’re sharing a room for the summer. He’s the new guitarist of Fringe.”