Never Enough: A Rockstar Romance

by Roxie Noir

  “How sure is pretty sure?” I finally ask, and she laughs.

  “Nearly positive,” she says. “But you might want to be careful.”

  I reach over and take her hand, lacing our fingers together, and she looks down.

  “You’ve got bruised knuckles,” she says. “I’m surprised you didn’t cut them on his teeth.”

  “I learned to fight properly well before I hit puberty,” I say. “My village growing up wasn’t a particularly kind place for sissy boys who enjoyed books.”

  She gives me a quick once-over.

  “Sissy?” she asks.

  “Defined as enjoying anything that wasn’t football, punching, or committing misdemeanors,” I say. “Including musical instruments and not wanting to harm cats.”

  “That does sound terrible,” she says. “And not unlike my neighborhood.”

  “We’ve got loads in common after all,” I say, grinning. “Virtually the very same upbringing.”

  Her fingertips find the valleys between my darkened knuckles, cool and gentle.

  “I punched him because he said you were fake,” I admit. “And also because he’s a half-cocked idiot who got you miserably high. But I wasn’t going to actually hit him until he said that.”

  “It was true,” she points out.

  “That made it worse.”

  “Sorry you had to take care of me,” she says. “And thanks for not letting me dissolve.”

  “I didn’t mind,” I say. “And I wasn’t lying when I told you that party wasn’t terribly fun.”

  “I know it wasn’t very rock and roll of me.”

  I just laugh.

  “Marisol, I’m going to tell you something and it may quite upset you,” I tease.

  She raises one eyebrow.

  “You’re not very rock and roll either.”

  “You’re kidding,” she deadpans.

  “Truth be told, you’re a bit square.”

  “Square?”

  “I began to suspect when you told me you didn’t allow people to touch you sexually without rubber gloves,” I say.

  “—okay, you know that’s not true—”

  “And then you got quite tipsy off of one drink, passed up an invitation to an awards show to volunteer for people who needed your help—”

  “—I had a prior commitment, also, that’s not a bad thing—”

  “—gave me the world’s most awkward kiss and couldn’t even identify the taste of pot—”

  Marisol grabs the front of my t-shirt and pulls me in for a hard, long kiss. When she pulls back she bites my lip, and the sensation sizzles through my whole body.

  “I’m not that square,” she says.

  “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” I murmur. “I rather like you as you are.”

  “Which is square.”

  “Yes,” I say, and kiss her again, because now that I’ve started it’s difficult to stop even though we’re in the middle of this restaurant.

  Marisol’s other hand finds my thigh as she turns toward me. I was already half-hard but I stiffen instantly despite my best efforts against it.

  “Would a total square tell you her apartment is only two blocks away?” she murmurs, her eyes teasing as she looks up at me.

  “It depends whether you’re asking me over or not,” I say. “Because doing such a thing after everything I’ve just told you is probably unwise and borderline reckless.”

  “I’ve got plenty of rubber gloves and a hazmat suit,” she says, laughing.

  “Alluring.”

  We kiss again, and then I pull her out of the booth, praying that the entire restaurant isn’t staring at my erection.

  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.

  “Fucking hell,” he mutters, so I reach back and undo it myself.

  Gavin slides his palms over my nipples and I shiver, feeling them pucker under his hands while I bite my lip and try not to moan again.

  “Oh, come on,” he says, kissing the spot below my ear. “It’s only fair that I get to hear the noises you make.”

  “I’ve got neighbors,” I whisper.

  Gavin chuckles, his mouth at the hollow of my throat.

  “Then I see I’ve got a new objective,” he says. “Make sure they know my name.”

  Suddenly he pulls me forward and before I know it he’s sitting on my couch and I’m straddling him, topless but still wearing jeans, and he’s got my hips in his hands, staring at me with a ferocious, almost feral look in his eyes I’ve never seen on anyone before.

  For a moment, all I can hear is my heart beating while his eyes crawl over me, lust written on every inch of his face.

  Then I lean in and kiss him as hard as I can, and I swear he growls again, rolling one nipple between his fingers. He kisses my jaw, my neck, pulling me in so I’m on my knees and our bodies are touching as his lips trail down my neck, past my collarbone until he closes his mouth around one nipple and runs his tongue across it.

  I gasp. My hand tightens on the couch cushion behind his head and he grabs me harder, pulls me in, takes my nipple lightly between his teeth until I moan, then switches to the other one.

  I’m aching like I’ve never ached before, my core filled with molten heat that does
n’t let up, that demands more. My whole body tingles with every heartbeat, even as I push my fingers through Gavin’s hair while he flicks his tongue over my nipple one last time and then lifts me even higher, his lips in the valley between my breasts, then the space above my bellybutton.

  He pulls me back down to face him. I kiss him desperately, rolling my hips against his hardness, my body responding in a pure, animal way as he unbuttons and unzips my jeans, then slides one hand inside.

  This time I moan, my mouth still on his, as he finds my clit and moves his hand past it, his long fingers dancing around my entrance, just barely teasing their way inside before circling my clit again, pleasure pulsing through my body as I writhe against him.

  Then he pulls his hand away, and before I know what’s happening, he’s flipped me so we’re reversed and I’m sitting on the couch, my legs still around him as he tugs my pants off and I lift my hips, finally wriggling out of them.

  Gavin’s on his knees on the floor and he kisses my belly again, presses his lips to my hips and then nips me softly and I gasp, making him chuckle against my skin.

  He pulls me to the edge of the couch, pushing my thighs apart. My whole body is ramrod-tense with anticipation, and for a split second, he looks up at me, dark eyes filled with lust as he kisses the inside of one thigh, running his thumb along the very edges of my soaking-wet lips.

  I gasp, hold my breath, and grab the cushions behind my head as his thumb is replaced by his tongue, just barely pushing between my lips, moving up, flattening as he flicks it across my clit.

  I make a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan, but his hands tighten around my thighs and he flicks his tongue across my clit rhythmically, circling it gently, lapping at me as I get closer and closer and then slowing.

  I’m pretty sure he’s torturing me, and by the second time I’m about to come, only for him to slow down and slide his tongue to my entrance, teasing me there, I think I might just explode from sheer frustration. My fingernails are probably about to tear holes in my ratty couch cushions, and as he circles me again with his tongue I whimper, already panting for breath.

  His tongue moves faster. My toes curl and I moan again, turning my head to one side as Gavin takes one hand off my thigh, runs his fingers along my opening and then enters me, stroking my inner wall as he flicks his tongue across my clit furiously.

  “Oh my God,” I half-moan, half-whisper, and I come. Every muscle tenses at once and I arch my back, fists digging into my couch, toes curling behind Gavin’s back, but he doesn’t stop, even as wave after wave runs through my body.

  His tongue slows and I put one hand on his head, trying to collect myself for a moment since I feel like I’ve just had an out-of-body experience. He stops licking me, pulls his fingers out and kisses the inside of my thigh again so I lean forward and kiss him on the mouth.

  He tastes like me, but I couldn’t care less, I let him pull me in until I’m also on the floor, my back against the couch, the flat of my hand pressing hard against his erection as he groans softly.

  “That was fucking beautiful,” he whispers. “You should have warned me.”

  I undo his jeans and pull at them until he’s in my hand, long and thick and hard as a rock as he groans into my shoulder while I stroke him, his whole body wound like a spring. We’re wrapped together on the floor, and it would be the easiest thing in the world to wrap a leg around him and let him enter me bare, feel him skin-to-skin.

  Every single fiber of my being wants it, almost like some other force has completely taken control of me. Even though not an hour ago, he told me himself exactly how bad that idea is.

  The head of his cock bumps against my thigh, slick with precum, and I stroke him one more time, nearly trembling as my self-control shreds.

  Then he pushes himself away and kisses me.

  “You’ve got condoms, yeah?” he murmurs.

  I swallow and nod.

  “Yeah,” I whisper, and get off the floor, taking a deep breath.

  I’ve had sex before, and I’ve been horny as hell before, but never like this. This feels like some other force has taken me over completely, so much that I’m nearly powerless against it.

  I grab a condom out of my underwear drawer, glad that at least one of us can still think straight, and glad that I stay prepared.

  When I turn, Gavin’s sitting in my desk chair, cock sticking straight up, massive and proud, his fist closed around the base. It’s sexy as hell, and for a moment I can’t believe that this is real, that this incredibly hot man is in my apartment, with that body and that dick, hard like that for me.

  Then he strokes himself and I walk over and straddle him, condom in my hand, his thick cock sticking up between our bellies as I wrap my fist around it. He kisses me yet again, hard and deep and I rock into him, tempted to put him inside me right this second, even though I’m actually holding the condom.

  I don’t. Gavin kisses my neck and takes the foil package from me, rips it open, and bites my collarbone a little too hard as he unrolls it onto his length, my fingernails digging into his shoulder.

  He lifts me, my toes barely on the floor, my face against his as I guide him to my entrance, so wet I’m nearly dripping. I’ve got my forearms on his shoulders, holding myself up, my whole body coiled and tense with desire, with the promise of what’s about to happen.

  “Say yes again,” he whispers.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  In that instant he lowers me and I let myself down, finally taking his length inside me in one slow, long stroke. We both groan as he hits every sensitive spot inside me and suddenly I’m sitting on him again, our hips together but now he’s buried inside me and Jesus Christ it feels good.

  “God, you feel fucking perfect,” he growls, his face in my neck.

  I’m panting, eyes closed, and I move my hips so that Gavin rocks inside me as he wraps one hand around my shoulder from the back, the other on my hip, shifting me back and forth.

  We move together like that, harder and faster, and it feels so good I can’t think. I can only hang on, holding Gavin to me as tight as I can, my lips against his ear as I moan louder and louder.

  “Fuck, Marisol,” he whispers, kissing my neck as he holds me, thrusting hard.

  I swear he’s found a deep, primal spot inside me that I didn’t know was there. He’s hitting it over and over and it feels so fucking good I think I might lose my mind, spiraling up and up, threatening to explode as our bodies move together in a furious, delirious rhythm.

  Then suddenly I’m at the top and everything is pure white light for a single instant.

  “Yes,” I whisper into Gavin’s ear, and I explode.

  I feel like I’m on fire, bursting into a million pieces, and all I can do is hang on, still moving against Gavin as I moan uncontrollably and he holds me so tight I think I might burst. He groans again and pulls me down as hard as he can, his face in my neck, then against my ear and he growls something I can’t even understand.

  Gradually, it fades, and even though I’m still gasping for breath, my heart beating out of my chest, my hands nearly shaking, I kiss Gavin on the temple, hands in his hair. He turns, my face in his hands, and kisses me full on for a long, long time as we sit there, him still inside me.

  After a long time I pull back, resting our foreheads together, and I touch his face, his chin, letting my fingers trail down his neck. I can feel his pulse, beating fast and hard, and I take a deep breath.

  “Did you, uh...” I say, and let the sentence trail off, because suddenly I have no idea what to say. I’m not exactly a dirty talker.

  He laughs softly, stroking my back.

  “Achieve orgasm?” he teases. “I did.”

  “Me too,” I say.

  He kisses me.

  “I was hoping that’s what happened when you clawed the skin off my back and nearly screamed in my ear,” he says. “Otherwise I’d be a bit afraid to see what it actually looks like.”

  “Shut up,” I say.


  We kiss again.

  27

  Gavin

  We sit in Marisol’s office chair for a good while. I’m a little afraid she’ll cut off the circulation to my legs, but I like this so much, being inside her even soft, being this close to her that I don’t say anything until she finally gets up.

  I throw away the used condom in her bathroom, and when I come out into her still-dark apartment she’s lying on her belly on her bed, sprawled like a starfish atop her covers, blinking at me sleepily. I crawl onto her bed as well, kiss her on the temple, and lay on my back.

  Marisol scoots over. I put my arm around her and she rests her head in the hollow of my shoulder, one arm draping across me.

  “This was more or less my plan to seduce you last night,” she says.

  I look down.

  “You were going to flop on me naked?” I ask.

  “Something like that,” she says. “I think my plan was to get naked while you were turned around, and then when you looked at me, say, ‘This is my pajamas.’ And then I didn’t have a plan from there.”

  “You probably would have asked me to wrap you in a sheet so your body parts would all stay attached.”

  “Well, I couldn’t remember my master plan long enough to make it happen,” she says.

  “I’m quite glad you didn’t,” I say, lightly stroking her back with my hand. “I nearly caved undoing your zipper.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “You thought you were dissolving,” I say. “I’d have been taking advantage.”

  She’s quiet for a moment, and then she looks up at me, her dark eyes deep in the dim light of her flat.

  “Was it hard?” she asks.

  I grin.

  “If you mean my cock, yes,” I say.

  Marisol scrunches her face up, and I laugh.

  “Cock,” I say, just to watch her squirm. “Cooock.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it,” she says. “I meant was it hard being sober while I was high? I know that’s supposed to be a trigger.”

  I glance over at the books on her dresser about addiction, which are still there in the same order. Even though we’ve just been quite close, for some reason that’s the thing that makes my insides turn to goo right now. Her research.