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

DANCING IN THE
DARK

Curves for the
Rock Star 4

by

Clare Cole

Copyright 2013
Clare Cole

http://www.clarecole.com/

This is a work
of fiction. Any similarities to any situations or persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Let’s be
honest. I didn’t think for a second that going out with a rock star
was going to be easy. Hell...exciting, yes. Dangerous? Maybe. But
not like this.

Not even
remotely
like this.

“The coast’s
clear, Amy. There’s definitely nobody else in the house but
us.”

Rick had
searched up and down the place as I desperately tried to make
contact with his record company back home. At times even I had to
admit this place was just too remote. A tiny rural village beside a
stream may sound like a dream come true - and it is, trust me - but
not if you need an Internet or cellphone connection. There was next
to nothing here.

I had managed
to lock on to a weak-as-hell mobile signal from a nearby village by
heading to the top floor of the house and opening the shutters
wide. If Rick’s crazy ex was out there watching with a sniper rifle
she would have had the perfect opportunity to pop a bullet in me,
but I had to take that risk. Lousy phone signals don’t travel well
through centuries-old stone walls. I tethered my iPad to my phone
and watched as it held on to the fragile connection. No 3G, no LTE,
no blazing speeds or anything like that - this was good old GPRS,
straight out of the Nineties. It wasn’t up to much, but I just
needed to send an email and, for that, it was enough - just.

I had waited
for the painfully slow progress bar to do its thing with my heart
beating hard in my chest. Around ten minutes later my phone buzzed
and beeped. It was an email from Karen, his A&R rep.

Amy,

Don’t panic!
I’m sending a driver to you guys now. He should be there within the
hour. He’ll take you to the nearest airport tonight and you can fly
out in the morning. I’ll make sure you pass through the airport
safely and securely. Hang tight and be careful, okay?

Karen

“We’re in good
shape,” I sighed. “Help is on the way.” Rick rubbed my shoulders,
kneading away the tension and tightness from them. “Mmm. That’s
nice.”

“I found my
phone. I must have taken it upstairs and forgot about it. She’s
definitely not in the house. We’ve got a bit of time if you want
to...”

I jolted my
eyes open. “What? If I want to
what?
”

“You know,” he
whispered, kissing my neck. “Go for a quickie.”

I pulled away
from his hands and turned around. “Are you kidding me? Please tell
me you’re fucking joking.”

“What? We’re
packed anyway.”

“Let me get
this straight. You’ve not only told me that Luke isn’t Julia’s son,
but that his real mother is a crazy ex-girlfriend of yours with a
habit for stalking.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And that same
ex-girlfriend is now hell-bent on sticking a knife or a bullet in
me or whatever in the vain hope of getting you back, correct?”

He shrugged his
shoulders. “She might just be trying to scare us...”

“Well she’s
fucking succeeded! There is a picture of my face on the wall with a
freaking chef’s knife in it and you think I’m in the mood for sex,
Ricky boy?”

“Just a blow
job will do.”

“God!” I
growled. “You can be such an idiot.”

“Fine,” Rick
sighed. “Maybe now isn’t the time. No need to get all bent up about
it.”

“I’ll bend you
up in a minute.”

“Well, if
you’re not going to satisfy your man I’m going to go to the
bathroom before the cavalry arrives.”

I suddenly felt
vulnerable again. “You’re going to leave me alone down here?”

Rick grabbed a
magazine. “I have to get rid of waste, Amy. I may be some time.
There’s a good article in here on David Bowie’s new album.”

He kissed my
forehead. “Chill out. All the doors are locked tight.”

“She got in
before.”

“Yes, and we
must have accidentally left a window ajar or something. But
nobody’s getting in here now, okay? Got to go, I’m touching
cloth.”

I rolled my
eyes. “You’re a disgusting pig.”

“But you love
me. Don’t get murdered while I’m gone, okay?”

"Wow. Look at
the size on that chandelier."

I slapped
Rick's arm. "I don't give a shit about the chandelier. Can you just
keep an eye out for your crazy ex-girlfriend, please?"

We stood in the
lobby of the Los Angeles Continental Hotel, waiting to be checked
in so we could get to our room and lock the door as quickly as
possible. We would have to stay here overnight, waiting for the
all-clear to go back to our apartment in the morning.

"Excuse me,"
Rick asked, leaning over the hotel's marble counter. "How much does
something like that cost? Must be an arm and a leg, right?"

I turned to him
and glared, quietly seething.

"It's very
expensive, Sir," the manager replied with a grin. "Certainly in the
region of several hundred thousand dollars."

"Wow. I figured
as much. Really sparkly, huh? Nice how it catches the light." I
jabbed an elbow into his ribs. "Ow! Careful, I bruise easily you
know."

"I'll bruise
more than your ribs if you’re not careful. Can you just concentrate
for more than thirty seconds, please?"

"Fine, fine. I
was just admiring the decor, that's all." Rick leaned in to the
manager again. "Excuse my voluptuous but slightly jittery
girlfriend. At least I appreciate your hotel's design
aesthetic."

“Hmm. Thank
you, sir. The penthouse is ready for you now. Enjoy your stay.”

As we headed up
the hotel’s lavish staircase, I kept my wits about me. I was
looking for an indication, any sort of sign that Louisa may have
been lurking somewhere in the hotel. Instinct kicked in and I found
myself naturally on edge, even though every ounce of common sense I
had kept telling me that there was no way she was there. It was
illogical, completely irrational. And yet, somehow, I couldn’t
fully relax.

Rick inserted
our key card into the penthouse door and it opened with a clunk. I
almost jumped out of my skin as my phone began to ring. “Oh God,
that scared the life out of me. It’s just Karen from the record
company.”

“Hey, Amy, are
you and Rick both okay?”

“Yes, we’re
fine. We’ve just landed in LA and are booked into the hotel now.
Any news?”

“Plenty. First
things first. We’ve been able to confirm with the police back in
France that they’ve arrested somebody for breaking in to the house.
Just some local teenager, a petty thief. It appears that somebody –
and we’ll assume that somebody is Louisa – contacted him over the
Internet and sent two hundred and fifty euros to his PayPal account
in order to give you both a scare. So, it appears that Louisa was
never in France after all.”

I didn’t know
whether to be relieved or not. “So if she’s not there, then where
is she?”

“Well, we’ve
spoken to the police this end and it appears that she never left
the US. Her passport is expired anyway. But that’s not helping us
very much.”

“Why not?”

“Her doctor has
told us that she hasn’t picked up her latest prescription. If
that’s the case, she’s almost certainly off her medication and,
just to complicate things further, there is no sign of her at home.
Neighbours haven’t seen her in a couple of weeks. Sorry to break it
to you, Amy, but right now we don’t know where she is.”

I felt the
hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Be honest with me, Karen,
are we in danger?”

“Look, it’s not
ideal. We all know that. But the police are on the lookout for her
and you’re in a pretty secure place right now. Just keep your wits
about you, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks,
Karen,” I nervously replied.

“No problem.
Hang in there, Amy. Oh, and keep that sexy rock god of yours under
control, okay? Anywhere with room service and a mini bar is just
asking for trouble.”

I hung up and
turned to look at Rick. “Good news?” he smiled.

“Not
really.”

“Let me guess,
she’s nowhere to be found and hasn’t taken her meds. Am I
warm?”

“How did you
know that?”

“Because she
used to do it all the time. She’d disappear for days, weeks
sometimes. She’d turn up out of her head in some club or get picked
up by the cops for shoplifting something stupid like Oreo cookies
from a gas station. Honestly, we’ve nothing to worry about. She’s a
bit crazy, but she’s not dangerous. At least not to us,
anyway.”

I shook my head
in disbelief. “But she’s tried to kill herself! Anyone who does
that is immediately a danger to themselves and others.”

“Big difference
between trying to slit your wrists because you don’t feel like you
can cope with life anymore and killing another person, Amy.
Seriously, think about it. Besides, she’s not going to be able to
harm you.”

“And why’s
that?”

Rick walked
towards me and placed his hands on my shoulders before gently
kissing my forehead. “Because she’d have to go through me
first.”

I smiled. “I
don’t want that to happen either.”

“Worry not,
sexy one,” he whispered, peppering my ear and the side of my neck
with his warm, soft lips. “The door is locked, there’s plenty of
floors between us and the ground and the bed looks supremely
comfortable. Nothing bad is going to happen to either of us, I
promise.”

He cupped my
face in his hands and kissed me. “You just want to have sex,” I
grinned.

“No, I don’t. I
want to make love.”

Within seconds,
clothes were coming off and we found ourselves edging towards the
bed. Rick grabbed his smartphone and flicked on some music before
playfully pushing me back so I fell onto the mattress. He fiddled
with the settings and attempted to get it to connect to the
Bluetooth speaker sitting on a nearby chest of drawers.

“What are you
putting on, superstar DJ?”

“Something
sexy,” he grinned. “Like you.”

“Flattery will
get you everywhere. Make it something mildly romantic, yeah? The
last time we had sex to The Ramones. It wasn’t exactly,
er…relaxing.”

“Worry not, my
little flame-haired sex kitten. I have decided that today my
not-insubstantial cock will be pounding your sweet love entrance to
the smooth sounds of Josh Rouse. I’ve picked a mix of tracks from
what I consider his halcyon works, ‘1972’ and ‘Nashville’.”

I started
undressing and slid back on the bed in just my underwear. “Always
classy, Rick. Don’t change, will you?”

“Fucking
Bluetooth,” he cursed, tinny audio escaping from the puny speaker
on the back of his smartphone. “Connect, motherfucker!”

I felt my
nipples harden beneath the delicate lace of my balcony bra. “Leave
it,” I gasped. “I want your cock inside me. Now.”

Rick slowly
looked up as the music finally began to play the way he’d intended.
“Got it now,” he smiled, a naughty twinkle in his eyes. “Everything
just fell into place.”

A warm rush of
excitement caused the lace of my panties to soak and my head to
swim. I swallowed hard, my lips going dry, as Rick pulled off his
T-shirt to reveal rippling muscles beneath. He put his hands on his
hips and slowly edged his fingers towards his belt buckle. “Kneel
on the bed,” he whispered.

I did as he
asked, looking straight at him – and the enticing bulge appearing
in his pants – as each breath I took became heavier than the last.
My breasts rose and fell magnificently in my bra, my cleavage
heaving like a wealthy 19th-century English woman in a corset just
desperate to be ravaged by the stable boy. With a quick push of his
hands, his jeans collapsed to his feet, revealing a long, thick
bulge aching to be released from his skin-tight boxer shorts.

“I’ve never
known a woman like you, Amy,” Rick smiled. “Your mind is sharper
than anyone I’ve ever met, but your body…”

“Is like a
whore?” I gasped.
Fuck. Did I just say that out loud?

He broke into a
gorgeous, stubble-edged grin before laughing slightly. “I was going
to say ‘porn star’. I respect you far too much to ever call you a
whore.”