Billy Jeffers: Rockers of Steel by Mj Fields Page A

and smacks my ass as he walks into the hotel room then throws me on the bed.
    “Pants off.”
    I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, unbuttons his pants, and shoves them down all in seconds. He looks at me the entire time.
    “The opening act is over. I’m ready to take the stage, and you’re not ready.” He walks over and grabs the can of whipped cream.
    “You just talked rock star to me.” I smile as I watch him walk back.
    He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”
    “Too late.” I shove my yoga pants down. “You on stage”—I slowly run my hand down my throat then between my breasts—“is such a tease.” I let my hand slide slowly down between my legs. “But you in bed”—I rub my finger between my folds—“is beyond what I imagined. I am soaked.”
    He grabs my hand and pins it above my head against the mattress. “I will never”—he grabs my other hand and pulls it above me before taking both my wrists in one hand—“be able to erase the image of you making yourself come, but I can promise you that will never happen when I am in the same fucking room as you are again.”
    “No?”
    “No. I nearly licked the keyboard bench where you dripped.”
    Crouched between my legs, he bites his lip as he looks at me—bare, exposed, soaked. He pulls my legs apart and shakes the can then pulls the cap off and squirts the whipped cream between my legs.
    “Mmm, my sweet girl is gonna be even sweeter,” he says before burying his face between my legs.
    “Oh, Billy!” I cry out.
    An hour later, we are sweat-drenched and sated, lying side by side on a bed, looking at each other. His eyes look nearly drugged and so relaxed.
    “You wanna sleep, shower, and fuck again?”
    “I think maybe we need to chat,” he says, linking his fingers with mine.
    “We don’t have to,” I say, rubbing the side of his face.
    “Yes. Yes, we do.”
    I don’t know how I’m going to tell him about Secret Escape, but I know I have to.

Madison has no clue who the investors are. There is no way in hell she would be lying calmly next to me if she did. I am a total asshole for fucking her before having this conversation. It wasn’t my plan to do that, but she made it nearly impossible not to.
    I wish I could just lie here and look at her. I knew she was wild, but I never expected she was also so damn caring or that she would be so open about her self-discovery on why she is, the way she is.
    I have never lived in anyone’s shadow like she did Memphis’s, so I can’t say I would have been any different from her.
    I tear my eyes off her and sit up. “I am sticky as hell from the whipped cream. Let me run us a bath, and we can soak while we talk.”
    She smiles. “Sounds good.”
    I walk into the bathroom and realize for the first time she didn’t book us an upgraded room. The bathtub might fit her comfortably, but it will be nearly impossible for the both of us. The damn thing is small.
    I start the water and turn to find the complimentary hotel body wash. Then I look in the mirror and see her standing completely naked. Her pale skin is such a contrast to her raven black hair. Her blue eyes are framed by dark lashes that make them stand out and sparkle even more. Her plump, pouty, little lips that I have just learned are naturally red.
    She holds up a black bottle. “Always prepared.”
    “Is that what you have in that little suitcase of yours?” I ask, reaching out for it.
    “I wouldn’t wanna be stuck without hygiene products.”
    “I quite adore that about you,” I say as I twist off the top and pour some in the bath.
    “Not too much; it’s highly concentrated.”
    I nod. “What I don’t understand is how we’re both gonna fit in this tiny tub.”
    She looks down at my dick as I turn around. “We’ll figure it out.” When she walks by, she lets her hand brush against my semi as she steps into the tub. “How about you get in and sit down. Then I will nuzzle between your legs for once.” She