Free Rock Me (New Adult Rockstar Romance) by Evelyn Glass

that much more important, that much more transcendent for me to fantasize about something beautiful.
     
    I look up and see Garret looking down at me. It is his cock in my mouth. Something gushes between my legs and a soft whimper floats between my lips. I run a hand along a thigh, plunge it down the waist of my pants and feel myself, soaking wet. I am blowing Garret Lyons.
     
    My eyelids snap open; Garret vanishes. The sunlight through Bellamy’s blinds stabs straight into my vision. Above me, I can feel Bellamy tensing. His hands flex on the back of my head, urging me harder, faster, deeper.
     
    “That’s right, you thick girl, keep sucking. Keep sucking,” he moans. I give him what he wants.
     
    Suck, stroke, lick, and then with a finality, the tension in his hands breaks and he orgasms explosively, cumming in my mouth with a protracted train of grunts. I endure it, swallow, and lean back, running a hand across my lips to wipe off the spit.
     
    He leans over on his hands and knees, drawing deep breaths for what seems like forever. I sit back in my chair, wide-eyed, post-traumatic. Just like I did in the aftermath of the last encounter, I feel violated.
     
    My thoughts are running wild with rationalizations. You needed it. You couldn’t say no. You were in no position to refuse. I know my intellect is right, but I can feel my gut churning with disgust nonetheless.
     
    The figures in my head are swimming in and out of each other, merging and separating and joining together again. Bellamy and Mother are fused together in a vile amalgam of abuse and sadistic sneers. His black suit and her black dress are the same amorphous garment. I can’t distinguish between them.
     
    Standing across from that two-headed monster is Garret, always Garret, always grinning, always radiating that heady scent of cocky sweat and subtle, tugging charm. What had I been imagining? Did I want him that badly? My mind flashes back to the image of him, naked before me, cock in my mouth. I feel another wave churn between my legs. I can’t do this right now; I force myself to focus.
     
    Willing myself back to reality, I beg Bellamy to keep this under wraps. “Please, just don’t tell anyone. That’s all that I ask,” I say.
     
    His response is the same as last time: a smirk, “Our little secret.” I can’t tell whose voice came out of his mouth, his or Mother’s. In the corner of my eye, I see Garret – just a flash of him, a brief apparition. He disappears as soon as I look that way. I needed to fantasize about something beautiful.

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    I walk out of Bellamy’s office, wiping a drop of his cum from the corner of my mouth. Turbulent emotions surge in my stomach, but I bite my lip and force them to quiet. I refuse to let myself think about what just occurred in the office behind me, about what I just did. I can’t think about it. I won’t. As far as I am concerned, from this point on, it didn’t happen.
     
    I step forward, and with each stride, I shove the grotesque physical memories of the encounter further and further down inside me. I clamp down on them with every ounce of my willpower. They sink like rocks to the bottom of my consciousness.
     
    I float through the rest of my day in a haze. When I walk into class after work and my professor pauses mid-lecture to ask me why I am late, I turn to face her numbly. The class falls silent and stares at me with dead eyes.
     
    “No reason,” I mumble. “Sorry.” The words don’t feel like they are mine. I sit down at a desk. An hour later, when she dismisses us, I think back and can’t remember a word she said. The class zips away all their belongings and files out in a herd, clomping down the hallway. I stay behind and savor the silence left in their wake.
     
    My agenda book is lying on the table in front of me. I idly flip the pages and let my mind wander with the passing dates. They conjure a mess of memories and emotions as I leaf through.
     
    August.