Dirty Little Secret: New Adult Rock Star Romance (Not Exactly A Stepbrother Romance Book 1) (13 page)

BOOK: Dirty Little Secret: New Adult Rock Star Romance (Not Exactly A Stepbrother Romance Book 1)
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Chapter Seventeen

 

“Get naked.” Bret’s face lit up like it used to when he was a little kid, rounding the corner on the stairs Christmas morning, and seeing all the presents underneath the tree.

Of course every year he’d insist they were all for him and Santa had forgotten about me. When I was really little, I believed him, and my mom would have to calm me down before we opened anything.

He had his shirt off before the hotel room door snapped shut. “We’re staying like this the entire time we’re here. No holds barred. Anything goes. This is going to be fucking awesome.” He was totally naked before I put my suitcase down.

“All you ever think about is sex,” I said.

“When you’re around? Absolutely.” He lay on the bed, careful not to crush his hard cock. “You’re still dressed, Gemma. Didn’t you hear me? Naked. Means no clothes.” He tugged on the bottom of my shorts.

I held on to the waistband, on the off chance he got them down. I wasn’t making it that easy on him. “Are you going to be thirteen forever?”

He rested his chin in his hands. “If I’m lucky. I have an idea.” This couldn’t be good. “Practice your striptease on me.”

Holy shit. “Now?” It wasn’t going to get any better in a room full of skanky strangers, but I hadn’t prepared for this. “I’m sober.”

“Go in my bag. There’s a bottle of rum. Coke too, if you want mix it.” Bret wasn’t going to miss a detail on this trip. “I brought all our favorite toys too, but first I want you to show me what you’ve got.”

My tongue was coated in sandpaper. The drink I made was far more rum than Coke. I wasn’t bashful about stripping in front of Bret. I’d just sucked his dick halfway down the turnpike. Tomorrow night, on the other hand, terrified me. Bret could laugh his ass off at me, but at least he’d tell me what I was doing wrong. If that happened at the club, I’d have to swallow the mortification like a bitter pill. I could probably avoid coming back to New Jersey for the rest of my life, but I’d never be able to get the memory out of my head.

“Should I put on my sexy stuff?” I’d brought the sexiest bra and panty set I owned. I bought it when my last boyfriend got accepted into his residency. I don’t think he even noticed it, and it was in like-new condition.

“That’s a good idea. Make sure you don’t have any wardrobe malfunctions.” Bret grinned. I made him a drink too. Might as well get this party started.

There was no need to go in the bathroom to change. This wasn’t my fucking wedding night. I stripped out of the crap I’d worn for the ride and slipped on my lacy set. It was blue satin with black lace overlay, balconette cups that struggled to hold the girls in, and a matching thong.

I’d already made it to the bottom of my first drink, when I turned around and spread my arms wide in front of Bret, as if I expected a round of applause.

“That’s hot. Now take it off, before I tear it off you.” Bret looked positively feral, watching my every move.

I froze and covered my face with my hands. The rum had yet to take effect.

“Come on, Gemma. It’s just me.” He got up from the bed and reached for my arms. Somehow he managed to slide them away from my face and tipped my chin up, so I’d meet his gaze. His mood swings gave me whiplash sometimes, going from sadistic bastard to the sweetest man I’d ever met in the span of a sentence. “You said this was your fantasy. That’s why I want you to do this. You’ll feel more like shit if you don’t. I know it’s fucking scary, but let me tell you something about men. We are all so damn excited to see a woman naked that there’s absolutely nothing you can do to fuck this up. You could fall flat on your face, and as long as you take your bra off, they’ll be happy. Just don’t fuck with their food or beer, or get in the way of the TV when a big play is happening, and you’ve got this.” I slipped my hand into his, and he squeezed it.

“What if they laugh at me?” I choked out the words. I’d never had a problem picking up guys, but I’d never been naked on stage before, either. Putting everything out there. As kind and probably true as Bret’s words were, I’d heard him and his friends tearing apart more girls than I wanted to remember. Seeing them naked hadn’t been enough for them.

That lopsided smile that would be my favorite part of this summer spread across his face, setting his eyes ablaze. Whatever he was about to say wasn’t bullshit. That smile couldn’t lie. “Impossible.” He wouldn’t let me look away. “Do this for you, Gemma. Don’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks. You’re smart, you’re funny, and you care about something bigger than yourself. For that alone, there are plenty of men who will be falling all over themselves to see you take your clothes off. And that’s before they see these.” He tugged at the bra strap. “Don’t let fear win. You don’t want to look back and regret the things you didn’t do.”

What I really wanted to do was kiss him. I knew what he could do with those lips and his tongue, but nothing he’d done had touched me more than what he just said. If we were a normal couple, I’d slam him against the wall and show him how much that meant to me. There were no words for it. Maybe I was letting fear hold me back. It was one of the reasons I agreed to this challenge. We had to maintain the level of craziness, or else we’d be left with something neither of us could have.

Maybe I’d regret not kissing him, but I had a feeling I’d regret doing it more. I’d never know.

Bret sat back down on the foot of the bed. “I paid for a show, Gemma”—he reached around me, grabbed the rum bottle from where I’d left it on the table, and offered it to me after he took a swig—“and I’m still waiting.”

I planted my foot between his legs, just missing his cock. The rum burned my throat, warming my whole body in that fuzzy way. It was like a superhero suit, and after another swig, I might become invincible. Only one way to find out.

I let the rum run down my chest and then slammed the bottle down too hard on the table behind me. Bret’s gaze was fixed on the stream of liquid running down my sternum, pooling between my bra cups, and dripping down my stomach. I ran my finger through it, up from my belly button to my cleavage, and brought it to my mouth but didn’t touch it. Instead, I put my finger in Bret’s mouth, letting him suck the liquor from my skin. He swirled his tongue around my finger, pulling, nipping… letting me fuck his mouth.

The way he clamped down on my finger, I wondered if he’d ever given another guy head. Maybe that would be my next challenge for him. I needed something over the top, to compete with this. I wondered if Matt would be game for it. Holy shit, that would be hot.

His eyes flew open when I pulled away, slipping a strap down my shoulder. I followed the ribbon with my gaze as it lowered, then flicked it back to Bret. He moaned as I caressed my shoulder and then repeated the motion on the other side. A swirl of my hips accompanied reaching around to unhook my bra. I arched my back, letting my rock-hard nipples scrape against the top of their lace restraints. The bra was free, but I didn’t let it fall. I caught it, feigning surprise when Bret groaned, and then turned around.

“Come on.” His mouth hung open when I turned to wink at him.

There was something to be said about the art of building anticipation. Bret had seen me naked more times than I could count now, a statistic that would’ve sickened me months ago, but he was still dying for more.

I held my bra in place with one hand, as I leaned over. My ass was practically in his face. I traced the length of my leg, before I let the bra drop to the floor and turned around.

Bret let out a huge breath, like he might have not survived if I hadn’t let him see a little more skin. I liked that. I breathed in, high off the pure power, and sunk into his lap, a thin strip of fabric the only thing separating me from his cock as I straddled him. Another grind of the hips pushed my tits into his face, before I leaned back, bending to the floor.

Bret took a hold of my thighs and pulled me with him on to the bed. Drunk me might’ve thought that move looked hot, but real life me had no idea how I was ever going to get up.

“Jesus, Gemma,” he said as he stripped the thong from my legs. “If you pull moves like that tomorrow night, I’m going to storm the stage and fuck you in front of the whole room.” On the prowl, he crawled halfway up my body and stopped.

“Maybe that’s what I want. It can be like our own little Times Square.” Shit, did I say that out loud? My mouth got me into enough trouble already. It got me here.

“In the old days, Times Square used to be full of sex clubs. We really could’ve fucked on stage.” Bret positioned himself between my legs.
Yes.
“Have you decided on a stage name?”

“Yeah. Katelyn.”

“Why that?”

“Because it’s basic, and no one will remember me.”

“Trust me. Everyone’s going to remember you.” Bret didn’t say anything more before settling his mouth on my pussy.

**

“I think I’ve seen every single episode of this show.” Bret spread out beside me, naked again, as promised. “When we’re on the road, sometimes there’s nothing else to do.”

We’d just finished off the pizza we ordered. Bret had insisted he’d answer the door naked, but put on his shorts, covering himself and his butt plug, at the last second. Good thing, since he’d signed an autograph when he gave the guy his money. We were still up in the wee hours of the night, lying in the haze of another long, lazy sex session. I was having a really good time, hanging out with him.

“Law and Order, huh?” I got up and put the box next to the trash. Why did they put the smallest trash buckets in the universe in hotel rooms? They knew we’d be ordering takeout. I crawled back on the bed and lay on my stomach. “Didn’t expect that.”

“What did you expect?” Bret rolled to his side and propped up his head on his hand. It was a great question. Spending this time with him like this, laughing and talking without aggression or agenda made me wonder what it would be like if we could be a real couple.

I’d expected this time together to be something completely different. Raunchy, scandalous sex. And yeah, we had some of that too, but the sweet moments of arguing over pizza toppings—I won—and Bret singing along to commercials, and now discovering his love of crime shows made it seem like so much more than that.

I shouldn’t let myself get too comfortable. This wasn’t going to last.

“Horror movies. Porn. I don’t know. Not this.” I yawned. I never pulled all-nighters. Even during exams, I didn’t wait until the last minute and cram everything all in. I did way better with a full night’s sleep.

“Sometimes. But that shit gets boring. I like these, because they’re always good, they keep me guessing, and they’re over in an hour.” Bret started playing with my hair. It tickled my back as he moved it. “I figure I’ve got to use my brain cells before I kill all of them off.”

“It’s so”—I yawned again—“grown up for you. You surprise me sometimes, Bret. You like doing the most domestic stuff.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He gave my hair a tug like he didn’t want me to think he’d gone totally soft.

“You like to cook. And the flowers.” It was getting hard to keep my eyes open. I’d worked before we left, which was exhausting enough before I factored in the travel and the sex. “You’re like Mr. Mom. Got any kids that you’re not telling me about?”

“Not that I know of.” Bret sunk down beside me after he switched off the light. “Do you sleep with the TV on or off?”

“Off.”

He picked up the remote and said
goodnight
to Law and Order. I’d dreaded this moment since I saw the room. We had a king bed. I didn’t know if that was by design or circumstance. Had I been asked, I might’ve requested for a room with two beds. All this time together with Bret, knowing we were headed for an implosion… I needed space.

When he put his arm around me, I flinched and repositioned myself closer to the edge of the bed. “Come on, Gem.” He sighed. “I’m not that bad.”

“I’m not a cuddler.” I pulled my pillow over, like I drew a line in the sand.

Even in the dark, I could see Bret’s frown. “Remind me why anyone dates you again,” he said.

“I could quote someone famous and say it’s because I’m smart, funny, and have amazing tits.” I laughed, but the sounded faded quickly, as if it bounced off of Bret’s disappointment. He was actually making me feel bad. “And we’re not dating.”

“I know that.” He may have inched closer. “But anything goes here. That was the deal. No limits.”

We’d cranked the AC, and eventually I was going to need the blanket or some body heat. My current chill had nothing to do with the temperature.

That was
his
deal. I only agreed to this trip because I wanted that money. The deeper we got into this, the more conflicted I became. I’d give my kingdom for another bed right now. Or for another room. Or for any sort of clear boundary. He’d pushed me far past my limits. The worst part was I wanted more.

“My head understands that, but sometimes my heart gets confused.”

“Mine too,” he said softly.

I lifted my head and stared at his silhouette, not believing I heard him right.

He took advantage of my shock to pull me into his body. I landed with my head on his chest. His heart thumped wildly, like my own, as he wrapped his arms around me. “Pretend I’m someone else if you need to, Gemma. Just give me tonight.”

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