Free Rock My World by Cindi Myers Page A

technique, she brought her hand up and licked the palm and fingers, then moved back to cup him. She began to stroke the underside of his shaft with one finger. A single tendon or blood vessel stood out in sharp relief, pulsing with each pass of her finger. He groaned.
    “Remember the camera,” she whispered. “Pretend someone’s watching.”
    “I don’t know how to tell you this, but that isn’t exactly a turnoff for me.”
    She laughed. “Me, either. It’s kind of exciting.” She moved her hand up to the head of the shaft. A single drop of fluid was poised there, and she spread it across the head with the tip of her finger. “Even if we can’t afford to give them a real show.”
    She licked her other hand and brought it alongside the first, turning toward him to get a better grasp. If she closed her eyes, would their anonymous—and possibly mythical—watcher think she’d gone to sleep?
    But she opened her eyes again. She wanted to watch Adam’s face when she made him come.
    She encircled his shaft with both hands, fingers laced, and began to slide up and down, twisting slightly at the top before starting down again. She’d read an article once that had assured her this technique was effective and devastating, but before now she’d never had a chance to test the theory. Judging by the way Adam’s eyes rolled back in his head and he clenched his teeth and arched his spine, she’d say the author of the article was on to something.
    His breathing was ragged and she found herself matching him, breath for breath, her own desire spiraling upward again right along with his. There was something very erotic—incredibly intimate—about being in charge of someone else’s pleasure this way. Always before, sex for her had been a matter of each partner taking what they needed from the other, each absorbed in their own satisfaction, though aware of their partner’s pleasure. This moment with Adam was different, each taking turns focusing solely on the other, each allowing the other to give an incredible gift, something precious only the other could offer.
    She felt the moment he was about to come, his body tensed, straining toward release. She increased the pressure of her movements slightly and, risking the camera’s unrelenting gaze, she laid her head on his chest, wanting to be closer to him.
    His arm wrapped around her, drawing her near, even as he came in her hand. She cupped one hand over the tip, capturing his warm, sticky essence, feeling him pulse in her palm, until he sagged back against the mattress, his arm still holding her to him. “Tell me this is not another erotic dream,” he said.
    “Another? Have you dreamed about me before?”
    He turned his head to look at her. “Let’s just say you’ve been the featured attraction a time or two.” He groped on the floor beside the bed and came up with his T-shirt. “You can use this to clean up. I’ll get another.”
    She wiped her hands, then retrieved her nightclothes from the foot of the bed. “I think I’ll just go freshen up,” she said.
    “Yeah. I’ll go when you’re done.”
    When she came out of the bathroom, he was waiting for her. He’d put his pajama pants back on, but his chest was bare. Before she could speak, he pulled her to him and kissed her. It was an urgent, heated kiss, his lips pressed to hers, his tongue sweeping between her parted lips, stealing breath and sense and speech. And it ended all too soon, and he pulled away. “I don’t think the cameras can see us here,” he said. “But in any case, I had to do that.”
    He slipped into the bathroom before she could think of anything to say. She put a hand to her still-tingling lips and stared after him. For a man who’d been reluctant to get involved with her, he was certainly moving along quickly. Her theory that the thinking man had a more passionate side had proved absolutely true.
     
    B ONNIE SAT at the bar in a downtown hotspot, nursing a drink. For a Saturday night,