Page 65 of Hard Rock Fling
My head reminded me that we weren't in a relationship. He wasn't my boyfriend. I certainly wasn't his girlfriend.But my heart wouldn't listen. It still pumped madly at the thought of finally being alone, like a proper couple. Would he cook for me himself? Would there be candles? I was trying to anticipate how romantic the mood might be that evening.
The text messages he sent me all day didn't make it any better. They were half sweet and half dirty.
I've missedspending time alone with you, sweetheart.
There's no better feeling in the world than sinking my cock inside you.
Can't wait to hold you in my arms again.
I'm going to make you come so many times you'll be begging me to stop.
Those texts flusteredme in more ways than one. By the time I found myself at Ian's condo apartment I was a bundle of nerves.
"You look amazing." Ian stood in the open doorframe, eyes wandering over my body as if he were a man starved of food and I was a tasty meal. The black bodycon dress I'd borrowed from Faith's closet had been a good choice.
He wore a simple white t-shirt, tight over his chest. His jeans hung low on his hips, practically molded to his legs. When I glanced up, I was met with bright green eyes and a heated stare.
My stomach did flips.
Ian was wrong. He was the amazing one.
"You look good, too." I tried not to sound breathless. I must not have done a good enough job because he tilted his head and smirked. To my relief, he didn't comment.
"Hope you like Italian." He opened the door wide and ushered me in with an arm around my waist.
"I like food in general."
A delicious smell wafted through the air as I entered, tomatoes and herbs.
Ian's condo was a vast open concept space, modern and chic. Cream-colored leather furniture complimented the black and white abstract art on the walls. His kitchen was off to the side with a large island counter, marble-topped. Four tall barstools in front of it. There was no dining room table. There were, however, several guitars and amps in a corner near the balcony doors. I went to go touch one before pulling back.
"Are these expensive?"
"A few of them. That one over there was my first." He pointed to one covered in stickers and scuff marks. "It's a piece of shit, but I can't get rid of it."
"Wait, do you play in here?" I asked, aghast. "Don't your neighbors complain?"
"What neighbors? This is the penthouse suite. I have the entire floor to myself."
I glanced around. "It doesn't seem that big."
"I've got a couple extra bedrooms and a small recording studio of my own down that hallway."
I hadn't noticed the hallway. This wasn't an open concept apartment. This whole area was only the living room. I tried to keep my mouth from gaping open. How much did this place cost?
Then again, hewasa rock star. Of course Ian would be able to afford an entire penthouse right in the heart of downtown.
I wandered over to the far wall to gaze out of the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. Everything looked so small from up here. So insignificant.
"You getting overwhelmed?" he teased, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
"A little."
"Soon you'll be able to afford a fancy place like mine."
"Never in my wildest dreams could I afford a place like this."
"You just scored a sweet gig, working as our Image Consultant. Who knows where that might lead?"
