Chapter 4
FOUR
Sam
It takes a while to get through traffic on the strip and then head back to the suburbs where Gina lives. I tell the driver to stay close because we’ll only be gone for fifteen or twenty minutes. We make our way inside because Kirsten wants to say hello to a few people and use the bathroom.
Precisely seventeen minutes later, we sneak out the back, walk around the side of the house, and slip back into the limo.
The Westin is actually in Henderson, away from the hustle and bustle of the Strip, and though it took a chunk out of my bank account, Kirsten’s worth it. Besides, I don’t have much in the way of expenses other than one credit card and my phone. I sold almost everything before I left Minneapolis, and I have a handful of stuff at my mom’s house. My car is locked in her garage, and I probably won’t drive it again until the end of the year when the tour is over.
So if I want to spoil my girl for a weekend, I can.
“Which hotel are we going to?” Kirsten asks, nestling up against my side.
“The Westin.” I kiss the tip of her nose.
“Oh. That’s a spa, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“There might be a massage on the agenda for tomorrow…”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We pull up to the hotel, and the driver gets our two small bags while Kirsten and I approach the registration desk. At eighteen, I would have been a little nervous checking into a nice hotel like this, but Kirsten isn’t your typical eighteen-year-old. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s checked into even nicer hotels in the two years since her hit single came out. She also looks older than eighteen, which probably helps.
I get the room keys and slip the driver some cash before we go up to the room. I can’t afford anything special, so no presidential suite or anything, but we have a beautiful view—and a really big bed.
Surprisingly, I’m suddenly the one who’s nervous.
It’s really not because it’s her first time—she’s not my first virgin.
What I’m feeling is more because it’s…us.
Kirsten and me.
Blue collar Sam Fielding is about to make love with spectacularly beautiful and successful singer Kirsten Aiken.
I’m a simple guy from the Midwest who plays guitar. I have a degree in teaching even though I never took the exam to actually teach because music takes up all my time. I’ve never wanted to do anything else—and now I’m recording the first full album with my band and we’re about to go on a huge world tour.
And Kirsten is going to college.
No matter what happens tonight, I have to leave her behind.
“I need to take these shoes off,” Kirsten says, stepping out of them and sighing happily. “My feet were killing me.” She shoots me a look. “Does that kill the sexy vibe for you?”
I rumble out a laugh. “Uh, no. Naked Kirsten is way sexier than fully dressed Kirsten in high heels. Although…” I squint thoughtfully. “Naked Kirsten wearing nothing but those heels would work too.”
“Maybe after I’ve given my feet a break?” She walks over to the window and stares out at the sprawling view of the desert.
“Sure.” I follow, wrapping my arms around her from behind and resting my chin on her shoulder.
“It’s beautiful,” she says.
“Not as beautiful as you.”
“You don’t have to say things like that.”
“I don’t do it because I have to—I do it because it’s true. And because I want to. If a guy doesn’t consistently give you compliments and find ways to tell you how much you mean to him, he doesn’t deserve you.”
“That’s why I’m with you and not some random hypothetical dude.”
Why does it make my dick hard when she says stuff like that?
“Kirsten, you sure you want tonight to be your first time?”
She turns so she’s fully in my arms, that gorgeous body pressed flush with mine. “Yes. I’ve been sure since the night we met. I agree that it’s better we waited, and used that time to get to know each other, but it’s only made me want you more, not less.”
Well, if I had any chance of staying in control, it’s gone now.
I drop my mouth to hers and kiss her like I own her.
I’ve kissed her a bunch but not like I’m kissing her now—with a possessiveness I haven’t felt in a long time.
Her lips are soft and sweet, the faintest taste of her lip gloss lingering. I could get drunk on her sweetness, and the way it feels when she threads her fingers through my hair, tugging it free of the ponytail it’s been in tonight.
“Long,” she whispers. “I love it long and wild.”
“Same.” I dig my hand into the hair at the back of her neck and gently pull. She has it in some half-up, half-down style, with sexy tendrils all over the place. But I want more than tendrils. When I’m balls-deep inside her, I want that gorgeous hair to be framing her face.
We seem to have the same ideas about hair, and I shake mine free just before capturing her lips again.
I can’t help but wonder if her pussy tastes as sweet as her lips, and I have every intention of finding out.
But we’re not there yet.
The room is dark except for the lights coming from outside and we’re both still fully dressed.
“Should we get more comfortable?” I suggest softly.
“Sure.” She gives me a shy smile. “Will you unzip me?”
“My pleasure.” I stare in awe as I pull down the zipper of her beautiful dress, revealing a long, silky expanse of pale skin. She’s not wearing a bra or any kind of shapewear, and my breath catches when I see the top of a tiny lace thong.
Jesus, she’s gorgeous.
I’ve probably said or thought that a million times since we met, but it’s true.
She reaches for my hand as she steps out of the dress and then, ever so slowly, turns to face me.
Fu-uck.
I’m momentarily stunned at the beauty in front of me.
I’ve seen and slept with a lot of beautiful women in the last five years, but no one like Kirsten.
Her breasts are full and round, sitting high on her chest, with dusky nipples that are currently hard little peaks. If I didn’t already know the answer, I’d wonder if they were fake. Not for any other reason than the fact that they’re…perfect.
“I don’t know what to touch first,” I admit quietly.
“Anything you want. I’m yours.”
“You have to guide me, babe. I don’t know what your limits are or?—”
She silences me with two soft fingers on my lips. “No limits within reason. I mean, I don’t think I’m ready for nipple clamps and swinging from the ceiling yet, but anything you want to do, touch, kiss, or lick, I’m ready. More than ready. I’ve been waiting a year for this, Sam.”
“A year?” I shake my head a little. “Since last summer?”
She smiles. “Even after you unceremoniously kicked me to the curb because I was too young, I knew I wanted you.”
“I didn’t kick you to the curb,” I say, chuckling. “I did the right thing. You were seventeen. I was twenty-two. That’s wrong both legally and morally. I know you were willing, but according to the law, you weren’t old enough to make that decision. And even though it probably makes me a hypocrite, I agree with that. I think everyone should wait until they’re eighteen. Especially boys. We can be so immature.”
She laughs. “Yes, you really can. But now I think it only fair that I see a little skin too. Even though I adore you in a tux.”
“I have to take it back tomorrow,” I say, “so make sure you’ve gotten your fill.”
“I’m sure.” She pulls her lower lip through her teeth. “Do it.”
I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman ask me to get undressed in a sexier voice.
Without hesitation, I lose the jacket and toss it aside. I start unbuttoning my shirt but she stops me, soft gentle fingers on mine as she takes over.
Yeah, I’m done for.
This woman is wrecking me, and we’ve barely done anything.
She takes her time, undoing each button before slowly and methodically pushing the shirt back and over my shoulders. Using one finger, she runs a trail along the dragon tattoo over my right shoulder and biceps.
“I think this one is my favorite,” she whispers, leaning up and using her tongue to follow the same trail as her fingers.
I hiss out a breath, her touch impacting me more than I’d like to admit.
“Do you like this?” she asks, a tiny hint of uncertainty in her voice.
“I love it,” I respond. “I just want to touch you so badly.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”