Chapter 15
Roxie
The kiss wasn’t careful.
It wasn’t sweet.
It was hungry and demanding. It held the intensity of days of secret glances and restrained lust, and carried the leftover pulse of the show. When my mouth opened under his, I felt the way the crowd had shouted his name, the way I’d watched him own the stage like it belonged to him and only him.
My hands went to his chest, felt his heart under the worn cotton of his shirt, felt how fast it was going. He made a sound low in his throat. His fingers locked around my wrists and my breath stuttered, not because I couldn’t move, but because he wanted me to feel exactly where he meant to keep me.
The city kept moving below us. Sirens in the distance. Laughter from somewhere far off. I stayed pressed into him, choosing his breath over every other sound the city offered.
Riot broke the kiss, breath warm against my lips. His voice was a low rumble that I could feel in my sternum. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
“I’ve been wanting you to,” I breathed.
He stepped back just long enough to shrug out of his leather jacket. It hit the platform with a dull sound, the same jacket I’d seen slung over amps, thrown across bus seats, carried through cities and a hundred late nights. He spread it out, a dark square against the pale rooftop.
The edge of the roof sat in my peripheral vision, a thin line of concrete between us and the drop, between this and whatever waited downstairs with the rest of the band.
Riot didn’t rush me. He stayed where he was, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him without being touched, like he wanted the choice to be mine.
I stepped forward, heart pounding.
His hand found mine again, and guided me down.
The jacket still held his warmth from the show and I let it seep into me, infuse me with that same aura that held me captive whenever he hit the stage.
The skyline tipped as I sat, then steadied when he positioned himself in front of me, knees brushing mine.
The way he looked at me then felt different from any show, different from the tour bus, different from every half-lit hallway we’d passed each other in.
This was quieter, but so much more intense.
His thumb pressed into the soft skin inside my wrist, and my pulse jumped against him, betraying me in a way I could never deny.
“Roxie.” The way he said my name carried more weight than anything he’d sung that night.
This feels so good.
I leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time, my fingers threading into his hair, feeling the way his shoulders shifted as he pulled me closer. The city blurred at the edges. The only thing that felt solid was us, the way my body reacted to his without me having to think about it.
When he pressed his mouth to my neck, I tipped my head back and watched the blinking lights of a plane inch across the sky. A breathless laugh floated out of me, because it felt absurd and perfect all at once, this moment suspended above a city that didn’t know we were here.
His hands moved to my waist, anchored me. My own hands traced the ink along his arms, every line familiar and new at the same time. I knew some of the stories behind them. Others he kept to himself.
I wondered if tonight would become one of those stories.
His lips became the only thing that mattered in this world.
The rough feel of his beard against the soft skin of my neck.
At some point, the music from inside the venue faded completely.
All I could hear was the wind moving around the building and the sound of Riot saying my name again, the rasp in his voice making it sound like a plea.
I could feel my need pooling in my core, as intense as a bomb that was armed and ready to go off. As I gazed up at Riot, and saw his own need there in his eyes, I knew I would do anything he asked of me.
And that turned me on so freaking much.
“Get on your knees,” he commanded.
My heart hammered against my chest as I obeyed. Riot stood over me. My hands trembled slightly with anticipation as I unzipped his pants.
His cock sprang free, hard and ready, as I took it in my hand, feeling its heat and thickness.
I looked up at him, and he nodded, a silent command as he ran a hand through my hair.
I leaned forward, taking him into my mouth, and began to swirl my tongue, teasing.
Riot groaned, his hands gripping my hair gently, encouraging me.
I ran my tongue along the base of his shaft and his breath hitched above me.
The sound went straight through my ribs, leaving me steady in a way I hadn’t been all night. There was no better feeling in the world than knowing you were driving a man wild.
The night air was pleasantly warm, and he removed his shirt while watching me.
His body was a beautiful contrast of dark tattoos and skin, and I couldn’t help but admire just how delicious he looked.
Some men were more attractive clothed than nude, the fabric accentuating all of their best features, but Riot was not one of those men.
I took him as deep as I could and slid my hands around to grab his tight ass.
I felt his cock twitch in appreciation. He was close.
He pushed me onto my back, then planted a fist next to my head so he could slide his tongue into my mouth. His other hand deftly unbuttoned my jeans while we kissed, and then he pulled back to slide them off along with my underwear.
The air tickled my sex, but I didn’t close my legs. I felt no modesty with the rock star that I’d been admiring on stage; I desperately wanted him to see me, to gaze at me with longing and lust the way all those fans looked at him.
Riot leaned over me, spreading my knees wide. His hungry eyes lingered over my glistening pussy. He swiped his fingers through my slick folds, and a moan escaped my lips.
“Fuck, Roxie, you’re so wet for me,” he whispered into my neck before lining the tip of his cock up with my entrance. I felt my pussy clench in anticipation of what it would feel like to be filled with his thick cock.
“Tell me what you want,” Riot said.
My throat tightened around the answer, because wanting him was easier than admitting it out loud.
I squirmed with need and bucked my hips, desperate to feel him inside of me.
“You,” I replied. Begged.
“No,” he said firmly. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
I bit my lip. “I want you to fuck me, Riot. I need you…”
His eyes darkened and he pounded into me, his face a mask of pure pleasure. I felt every inch of him, his cock stretching and filling me, and I met his thrusts, wanting more, needing more. Somehow knowing it would never be enough.
The jacket creaked under us as I dragged my hands down his back, nails catching on ink and skin, pulling him into me.
His breath broke against my ear, rough and unguarded.
The city lights flickered across his shoulders as he moved, turning him into something unreal and entirely mine.
I wrapped my legs tighter around him, chasing the sound he made when I did, the way his control slipped just enough to make my chest ache with it.
Riot’s hands found my hips and he gripped me tightly. He guided my movements, claiming me as his own. I loved the way he took what he wanted. My body automatically surrendered to him in every way.
The breeze mixed with our sweat, a cool caress on our warm skin. We moaned loudly, our voices carrying on the night air for no one and everyone to hear.
“Is this what you wanted?” I managed to ask. “When you invited me on tour.”
He kissed me, lips curling into a smile against my mouth. “It wasn’t the reason. But I’ve sure as hell been thinking about it.”
Riot’s thrusts became more intense and I felt his climax building as his body tensed.
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” I said, grabbing a handful of his ass. “Do whatever you want to me.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm hmm. I’m yours.”
Riot’s dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “Damn right you are.”
He flipped me onto my hands and knees, and without hesitation, he slammed into me from behind, his pace rough and fast. I cried out, the sensation overwhelming, and I felt his hands on my hips, urging me on.
This position gave him a deeper angle into me, each thrust taking me closer and closer to my own undoing.
He reached around and his nimble fingers found my hard clit, and I quickly fell apart underneath his touch.
I couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence over the consuming fire now ravaging through me.
“Oh, God…” was all I could manage.
The rooftop echoed with our passion, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm. My legs began to shake and I couldn’t hold back any longer. My orgasm crashed over me, wave after wave of pleasure that came with every thrust of his hard length, my pussy pulsing around his thickness.
“Yes,” he groaned, fingers digging into my waist as he held tight while driving into me. “Fuck…”
“Riot!” I cried out, my orgasm still rippling through me. “Oh fuck, Riot!”
“Roxie!”
Riot roared in the night as he came, his cock exploding inside me. I squeezed my inner muscles around him tightly until every last drop was spilled, and savored the way he clung to me until eventually the tension left his fingers and we both became still.