And they didn’t want their money maker romantically attached. Because that didn’t make them money. What made them money was a very sexy, very single rock and roll star who exuded so much sexual energy on stage girls passed out from screaming his name. Some of the reporters on shows like Entertainment Tonight said they hadn’t seen anything like it since Elvis—then they’d show clips of Elvis and girls screaming and falling over. Followed by clips of Dale and girls screaming and falling over.
ached for me, and I went to him, arms around his neck as he kissed me back onto the seat, stretching out next to me, his thigh between mine. We kissed like we hadn’t seen each other in years, desperate, longing kisses that did nothing to really put out the fire. In fact, it just added more fuel.
“I missed you so much, Sara,” he murmured against my neck. “When I’m away from you it’s like I can’t take a full breath. It’s like I’m drowning and you’re my life raft.”
“You’re so sweet.” I cradled his head in my hand as he kissed his way down my cleavage. “There’s a song in there somewhere…”
He chuckled. “You know me too well.”
“You missed me?” I asked. “You thought about me every day?”
“Every minute…” He assured me with kisses all over the tops of my breasts. “Every second.”
His hands were working my skirt up, up. He glanced down at his handiwork with a deep sigh.
“You’ve got sexy damned legs.”
“Do I?” I looked down, pulling my dress up even higher to look.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I pulled my skirt up almost to my hips.
“Sara…” There was a warning in his voice, in his eyes
“Can he see us?”
“No.”
“Good.” I grabbed his hand and slid it under the elastic of my pantyhose. He curled his fingers around my sex, his palm over my pubic bone, rocking gently.
“Tease,” he groaned as his fingers slid through the slippery seam of my sex.
“Me?” I gasped, shifting my hips. “Oh that’s so good…”
I kissed him, sliding my tongue along his lips, desperate for him.
“Is it going to be a long ride?” I asked.
Dale sighed. “Not long enough.”
“Then I guess this is the best we can do for now,” I whispered, rubbing the heel of my hand through the thin material of his trousers, feeling him, hard and wanting me.
“For now.” He groaned, his hips rocking with my motion. “Oh God, this is torture.”
It was—the very best kind of torture. We continued to tease and torture each other to the brink of insanity, igniting that pure, animal lust that took over our bodies and minds whenever we were together.
Then the limo pulled up to our destination and I sat up and straightened my dress, my hair, and prayed that wherever we were, it had a nice, soft bed and plenty of water.
Because we were going to need them.
CHAPTER FOUR
When the driver opened the door to the limo, Dale got out first, holding his hand out for me. I took it, my remaining shoe in my hand as I walked barefoot—well, almost, I was wearing nylons—into the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria hotel.
“Dale, you didn’t.” But of course, he had.
I had a rush of déjà-vu as we stood at the counter, checking in. We had just been talking about first times in the limo, and here we were at the Waldorf Astoria, the place he had brought me two years ago. It had been the first night we’d ever spent together. Dale was recreating it, from the limo ride to the hotel.