Rock You Like A Hurricane (MF)
Sirenic

Excerpt

STORY EXCERPT

January 17, 1989 – Darling Harbour, Sydney Australia

Sadie Fox’s nerves were shot to hell just being in the same room as him. One peek wouldn’t hurt, though, she told herself. She craned her neck and scanned the colossal concert hall. He was nowhere to be seen, but a crowd of keyed-up groupies to the right of the stage alerted her to his whereabouts.

Shit, he might see me. She clawed at the collar of her shirt for air and unfastened two buttons. Wonder if he even remembers me? Wonder if he’s still ripped like a Greek god, or has any new tats. Wonder if…

Shackled by the kind of curiosity known for killing the cat, and after this maybe the Fox, too, she weaved through the crowd. And there he was, Ryker Conall, the lead singer of Sirenic. The splendid sight stopped her dead in her tracks. He hadn’t changed. In that split second, neither had she. Sadie felt as she had the first time she clapped eyes on him all those years ago. Star-struck and lovesick. All the pain and hurt he had caused vanished, and it became one of “those” moments when every movement seems purposefully sensual and in slow-motion.

Definitely a ghetto blaster moment…let’s see…“Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard? Yes, perfect!

He had a rough and ready look about him, and his faded jeans and black tee clung to every curve of his muscular body. The glorious sight of him rattled her, and every inch of Sadie tightened. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a deep breath to digest the shock. Seeing him again was meant to prove she was over him, not evoke old feelings.

Groupies pushed and shoved around her. Nothing was shifting her, though. She stayed glued to the spot, her stare stuck on Ryker. That was until some cheap blonde with huge hair budged in front of her.

She gritted her teeth. “Watch out, bitch.”

The chick turned and shot Sadie a death stare. “Says the shoulder-padded Kylie wannabe.”

She should be so lucky, Sadie thought but dared not say. This girl looked hard and would probably sock her one if she pushed it. She was not a wimp. But a fight at work is not the way Sadie wanted this day, or any other, to go. Her boss, Barney, hated that kind of thing. He had little tolerance for anything that might give his hotel a bad name.

“It’s called a uniform.” She loved her job, but despised the garb she had to wear.. It made her feel like she’d walked straight out of Melanie Griffith’s Working Girl movie with a shoulder-padded blouse and a grey pencil skirt.

“Uniform? Right. Get lost. This signing is for us Sirenichics, not popsters.”

“Yeah. Get lost, popster,” her friend piped in, pursing her cherry red lips. Her “look” consisted of electric blue hair and black eyeliner, Egyptian-style. Sadie raised an eyebrow while trying to decide if these girls were mental cases or not.

“Calm down. I’m here for the same reason as you.”

“Oh, yeah? You a Sirenic fan, too? Cool.” Egyptian girl looked doubtful.

“Like talking to a brick wall.” Sadie rolled her eyes. “Look, I just wanna catch a quick look before I go back to work. I shouldn’t be here. I should be working, you know?” She glanced between their shoulders, well aware that she had it and had it bad.

“Sure. I feel you. The name’s Kelly, and this here is Emily.” Big-blonde-hair girl ushered to her blue-haired friend. She acknowledged the intro with a quick nod and ducked to give Sadie a clear view of him center stage.

She sighed long and hard at the sight of him. He looked much the same as she remembered him. Long, silken hair and a gotta-rub-coconut-oil-over-that kind of body. Sadie thought back to the time when she had done just that to him, and how he had reciprocated. She smirked. Ryker glanced in her direction as if he had read her thoughts, twinkling eyes and all.

Fans squealed and surged toward him, dragging Sadie and her two new friends along for the ride. The stampede hit her back to reality like a slap in the face, and ended her back-to-the-past drool session. She scrambled to break free of the crowd and reminded herself that her appetite for rockers had gone up in flames when she had burned her spandex leggings and thigh-high rocker boots years ago. She cursed and wished she could literally kick herself. Glam rock was dead to her. She was past it, and she should’ve been way past Ryker Conall.

Adult Excerpt

 Hardened wax ripped from her skin, the departure leaving a sting in its wake…Ohhh. A desire to see his pleasure-lit eyes pulled at her, and she opened her eyes.

“Naughty, I told you to keep your eyes shut.” He smirked. It was wicked and promised her a sinful treat. Ryker blew out the candle, dark again. He moved down the bed and parted her sex. Warm wax fell between her folds, hardening immediately. With his finger, he massaged the wax over her clit before it stuck to her. Then peeled it away. She had never, ever had wax there before, never been brave enough, stupid enough. Figured it would be too painful. But it hadn’t hurt at all. It was sensual and intimate on so many levels and proved the trust between them was tenfold.

He slid back into her warm space and began pumping in and out, his pubic bone rubbing across hers, edging her closer to orgasm. Wax pieces warmed with the friction, and it became a slip and slide between them.

“Deeper, Ry, get deeper,” she cried, desperate for him to fill her up. And with his length, she knew he could. He got harder again, and his thrusts became more purposeful and goal-orientated.

“Come, come inside me, Ry. I wanna feel you explode in me. God, yes, come on.” Sadie had no idea why she egged him on because she wasn’t ready to come. “Holy shit!”