Dancing in the Dark (Curves for the Rock Star 4 - A BBW Rockstar Erotic Romance) Read Free

mixing with my own sweet
nectar, I didn’t care. This was my life now. This was my future.
This was my man.
    Nobody was
going to take that away from me.
     

Chapter
Three
     
    “A parcel? For
me? Okay, I’ll be down in the next ten minutes.”
    Reception had
called to let me know that Rick’s PA had sent some items over to
us. I didn’t have a clue what they were but they would have to
wait. Breakfast in bed was just too damn good.
    “This toast is
off the charts,” Rick mumbled.
    “Don’t talk
with your mouth full. Didn’t your mother ever teach you
manners?”
    “Didn’t stop
you in the middle of the night.”
    I slapped his
arm playfully, recalling our second lovemaking session at around
3am. “I wasn’t talking, I was…um…”
    “Moaning
uncontrollably at my length and girth, unable to comprehend the
sheer size of the god-like penis that was filling your delicate
little mouth.”
    “I was…enjoying
the moment,” I chuckled.
    Rick held his
toast up to the air, inspecting it. “How do you think they make it
this good, Amy? Is it the quality of the bread, the consistency of
the butter? Could it be the toaster they use?”
    I rolled my
eyes. “No idea, Rick. I don’t lie awake at night thinking about
these things.”
    “No, you lie
awake at night sucking my cock.”
    “Knock it off,
potty mouth.”
    “Maybe it’s a
combination of the three? A perfect union of three disparate
elements all coming together to create the perfect piece of
toast.”
    “Yeah, that’ll
be it,” I sighed, swinging out of bed to get dressed. “You’ve hit
on the formula. Quick, Rick, patent it. Steve Jobs would be so
proud.”
    “You know,”
Rick smiled as he munched on his toast, “you truly are my
intellectual equal.”
    “That’s
worrying,” I giggled. “Your bandmates used to tell me you were
thick as pigshit.”
    “Hardy-har-har.
No, your withering put-downs are almost poetic, certainly lyrical
in their delivery. You should write some songs, babe.”
    I leaned in to
kiss him. “I’ll leave that to you. If there’s one thing you’re
exceptional at, it’s music.”
    He slipped a
hand onto my ass and squeezed. “Just one thing?”
    “Okay, maybe
two things. Definitely two things.”
    “Play your
cards right, sweet thang, and you’ll get more of my burning rod of
love later.”
    “Groovy,” I
replied, poking my head around the door. “I can barely contain
myself. But right now, I’ve got a parcel to pick up.”
    “There’s a
parcel right here for you,” he snorted.
    I shook my
head. “Enough of the sex jokes, Rick. It’s like living in an
episode of ‘Californication’.”
    “Fuck me, this
toast is good,” his disembodied voice said as I wandered down the
hallway. “Call room service for some more, then,” I shouted.
    Last night had
been amazing. It confirmed everything I already thought about Rick;
he was talented and funny, creative and sharp. He had a personality
that bordered on arrogance – at least to some people – and I knew
his filthy sense of humour was never going to appeal to everyone.
But that didn’t matter. It appealed to me.
    Last night had
also reminded me of the side of him most people never got to see –
the caring side, the gentle touches and soft kisses that said more
than most people could in a thousand words. Sometimes he didn’t
have to do anything more than throw me a simple glance, a look in
his eyes and a hint of a smile that told me all I needed to
know.
    I’ve got your
back, Amy. Don’t worry about a thing.
    I had
daydreamed my way down to the hotel’s reception desk. “Parcel for
Amy Reid?”
    “You must have
an admirer,” the pretty brunette behind the desk smiled. “I wish I
got packages like this sent to me once in a while.” She pulled out
a huge, gift-wrapped box, covered in shiny wrapping paper and an
enormous red bow.
    “What the hell
is this?” I laughed. I picked it up, surprised at how light it was.
I shook it, hoping for a hint as to