Dancing in the Dark (Curves for the Rock Star 4 - A BBW Rockstar Erotic Romance) Read online

  “I don’t know if I can accept that,” she said, her voice breaking. “I love him so much.”

  “Then let him go,” Rick smiled. “And me.”

  Louisa put the gun to her head just as two police officers appeared, guns drawn, in the doorway. “Drop it!”

  Rick waved at them to lower their pistols. “Come on, Louisa. It’s an air pistol. The worst you’ll do is mess up your hair.”

  She scanned the room, initially defiant. Then, slowly, her face began to change. She looked desperate, sad even. For the first time, I felt a little sorry for her. She slowly lowered her gun and dropped it to the floor as the officers moved towards her, their guns back in their holsters. Suddenly, she adopted a kung fu pose. “Hiii-yaaa! Get back! I’ll tear you pigs limb from limb! You’ll never take me alive, coppers!”

  The room fell silent in utter disbelief.

  “I’m just kidding,” she said, putting her wrists out to be handcuffed. “Just having a bit of fun with you guys. I’m off my meds, remember?”

  “This is freaking crazy,” Rick muttered. “Welcome to my world, officers.”

  Roger turned to me. “I have never seen an incident so ridiculous as this in 23 years of being a security guard. I feel like I’ve been taking drugs.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Think yourself lucky. You wouldn’t believe the year I’ve had.”

  “But that’s just it,” Rick interrupted. “I can’t go on like this. We can’t go on like this! I’ve been living with this sort of madness all my adult life.”

  Louisa looked at Rick, her hands cuffed behind her back. “Hey! Who are you calling mad? I think you’ll find the politically correct term is ‘mentally ill’. Don’t you stigmatise me!”

  Rick slapped his palm repeatedly against his forehead. “Not you. Me! My life is mad! Crazy! Ri-fucking-diculous!”

  “Well,” Louisa snorted, “maybe you attract it.”

  “Maybe I do. And maybe, just maybe, I can break the chain.” He looked over to me, smiling. “You’re the one thing, Amy, that’s totally sane in my life. You’re the one thing that loves me for who I am and who I could be. I have to stop living like this, Amy. I need some degree of normality, some kind of simplicity or I’m going to just be lost forever. I want to be a better father, Amy, but first I need to be a better man. You make me that. You make me far more than I thought I could ever be.”

  I felt my insides fill with so much with love for this man I thought my heart would spill out onto the floor of the hotel room. “I love you, Rick, you big dope.”

  “Will you take this loser and make him right?” he grinned.

  “You mean ‘beautiful loser’?”

  “See what she did there?” Roger whispered to the hotel manager. “His band was called something like that. Clever.”

  Rick stepped forward. “Marry me, Amy. Marry this beautiful loser.”

  I felt my jaw drop. “You…you’re proposing to me?” He nodded. “In your underpants?”

  Rick looked down. “I guess so. At least I haven’t got a semi.”

  Louisa barked at me. “Well, don’t just stand there, you idiot. This bum just took a bullet for you.”

  “Air pellet,” I replied. “Two of them.”

  “Whatever. You want to marry this clown or not?” I nodded. “Well, hurry up and say yes then so I can get the hell out of here. There’s a hot meal waiting for me at the police station and I’m fricking famished.”

  “Yes,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll marry you, you beautiful loser.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. “Mmm,” I mumbled. “Now you have a semi. Settle down, there’s people about.”

  Suddenly, we heard sobbing and turned to see one of the officers dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. “Beautiful. Just beautiful. That’s made my day, that has.”

  Louisa kicked his shin. “Knock it off, you big pussy! Not such a tough guy without that gun, are you? Maybe I should have tried out some kung fu moves on you morons. I would have put your asses down!”

  The other officer began dragging her away. “My God, this is like a cartoon. Come on, I need to read you your rights.”

  “Take me away, fellas,” Louisa snarled. She paused as she passed me. “Look after him, will you?”

  I nodded. “I promise.”

  “For all his faults…he’s something special, that one.”

  As Louisa was led away, the hotel manager nervously backed out of the room with Roger. “Well, thank goodness that’s all over. I’m sure the police will be up soon to take a statement. Can I get you two lovebirds anything?”

  “The biggest bottle of champagne you have,” Rick boomed. “We’re celebrating. How many people get shot and engaged in the same day, huh?”

  Roger poked his head back around the door. “Just out of curiosity, miss…since you’re actually intending to marry this individual, does this sort of thing happen often?”

  “Oh this?” I smiled. “This is just a quiet day.”

  Chapter Five

  “I’m going to have to lose some weight for the wedding.”

  Rick smacked my leg with a bridal brochure. “No you’re damn well not,” he scolded. “Don’t you dare.”

  “What song are we going to have for our first dance?” I asked.

  “Hmm. Let’s do something different, none of that lovey-dovey stuff. How about ‘New Sensation’?”

  “By INXS? Maybe.”

  “Or ‘Run to You’. Bit of Bryan Adams never goes down badly.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You sure about that?”

  “Okay, ‘More Than a Feeling’. Let’s rock out to Boston, just for kicks.”

  “Oh God, no. The guitar solo goes on forever.”

  “I give up, then. ‘Dancing in the Dark’. That’s my last suggestion.”

  I smiled. “Yeah. I like that. Remember the video? You can be Bruce Springsteen and I can be Courtney Cox, your adoring fan being pulled up onto the stage.”

  “It’s settled, then. The Boss it is.”

  I thumbed through a magazine full of beautiful dresses, from Vera Wang to Stella McCartney. “All the women in here are so beautiful,” I sighed. “They’re so damn…skinny.”

  “When will you women ever learn?” he laughed. “Men don’t like skinny girls. We like curves. Hips and lips. Tits and ass. We’re shallow creatures, really.”

  “You wouldn’t believe it looking at this.”

  “Well, that magazine isn’t aimed at men, is it? It always staggers me how women’s magazines are full of skinny, airbrushed models with articles on every other page about how to lose weight. They poke fun at female celebrities, showing pictures of their cellulite and pregnancy bellies in order to make women feel better about themselves. It’s ridiculous.”

  He had a point. “True. Very true.”

  “What all women should do, Amy, is pick up a men’s magazine. Doesn’t matter whether it’s Playboy or Esquire or Maxim. Take a look at the women. Never skinny, always curvy. Big, sexy butts and boobs. Men love boobs. Hooray for boobies!”

  “You really should consider a career as a feminist spokesperson, Rick.”

  It seemed that after such a crazy year of ups and downs, highs and lows, things were finally looking nothing but positive. Four months had passed since the incident with Louisa in the hotel room. That completely bizarre, crazy morning was now a distant memory that we simply laughed about. Louisa herself was back to living a relatively normal life, albeit with medication and regular medical care. We had also been spared the prospect of having to testify in the trial of the men – and Jake – who had abducted Luke. That tragic turn of events, which led to Sean's death, had ended with a whimper. All pleaded guilty, hoping for some form of more favourable sentence – either way, that chapter in our life was over.

  Rick was a different man, too. Some things never change, like that wicked sense of humour and childlike curiosity with the world. He had started to create music on an iPad, marvelling at the array of tools
and mixing loops he could achieve with just a ten-inch screen. It had reignited his creativity again and he was putting together some of the best material he'd ever written. This was a more mature, considered artist. We'd spend quiet evenings at home, trying out new lyrics over glasses of wine. I always thought that things like this didn't happen to people like me.

  It sounds corny, but I was living the dream and I didn't want to wake up.

  "Anyway," Rick smiled, I thought you were going to go for the Italian dress you talked about."

  "I am. I'm just looking, that's all."

  "When do I get to see it?"

  "On our wedding day, silly," I replied. "I've told you before, I want it to be a surprise."

  Rick put a record on the hi-fi – "Tango in the Night", a Fleetwood Mac album – and the vinyl crackled slightly before the music sprang to life. He nuzzled into my neck, kissing it gently. "Oh go on, just a hint. Just a little one."

  "No," I giggled. "I won't be swayed."

  "Please?"

  "Nope."

  He softly ran the tip of his tongue up my ear. "Pretty please?"

  "I tell you what," I whispered. "I won't show you the dress, but if you're a good boy, I might give you a preview of the underwear."

  Rick sprang up. "Now you're talking! When you say underwear, do you mean the whole thing?"

  "Well, I suppose it depends what you mean by ‘the whole thing’?"

  He sat opposite me and sipped a glass of Italian white wine. "Are we talking a sexy white bra that pushes up those wonderful breasts of yours?"

  I nodded. "Of course. Anything else?"

  "How about the panties? Are the panties innocent or naughty?"

  "Well, what would you prefer?"

  "I'd prefer naughtily innocent. Or innocently naughty. Take your pick."

  I started to undo the top buttons of my blouse. "Well, I'm not sure which it is, but I can tell you they're probably the tiniest, skimpiest little thong panties I've ever worn or ever will again."

  Rick took a deep breath. "Okay, now I'm sweating. Are you hot, is that why you're taking your blouse off?"

  "Well, you want me to change into them don't you?"

  Rick's eyes widened like a puppy dog. "You…you mean now? You're going to put them on now?"

  "Only if you want me to, Rick." I bit my lip and fluttered my eyelashes cheekily at him. "You do want to see them, don't you?"

  Rick smiled the broadest, warmest of smiles. "You see, you women get all the fun. You know how to push our buttons, don't you?"

  I slipped off my blouse and threw it straight at Rick. "See you in a little while," I teased, heading into the bedroom to get changed.

  I hurriedly pulled out the bridal lingerie I had stuffed in the back of one of our wardrobes. I felt a little rush of excitement as I laid it out on our bed, smiling to myself as I stripped naked. Now, what should I start with? The horrifically expensive but utterly gorgeous Simone Perele underwear? Or should I slip on the smooth-as-silk white stockings? As I pulled out the Jimmy Choo box that contained over a thousand dollars worth of ivory coloured five-inch high heels, I stopped to pause for a second. It was almost inconceivable to me that I was wearing this kind of stuff to get married in, let alone simply have sex in. For a brief second, I allowed myself to feel proud of how far I had come. I never dreamed I would date a rock star, let alone be the woman to change his life.

  I used to feel so angry when people spent money unnecessarily on trivial things. I would grumble under my breath about what a waste of money such frivolities were. Yet now, in Rick's world, everything was relative. Those shoes were just a drop in the ocean, a day’s worth of royalties on songs he had already written many years ago. I realised it was time to stop feeling resentment towards people who had money, because now I was one of those people. I was one of those individuals I always wished, secretly, I could be.

  As I started to slip on the underwear, the perfect fit and gorgeous fabric so comfortable against my skin, I realised there was no shame in doing well for yourself. It didn't mean I ever had to forget where I had come from – maybe my humble beginnings and years of financial struggle had made me a better person. I'll never forget meeting Rick, interviewing and photographing him for a music magazine. I was doing two jobs for the price of one back then, getting paid a single rate for double the work just so I could hold onto my job. Man, those days seemed so far away now.

  I remember the flutter in my stomach and the beating of my heart as I clicked my camera shutter. I remember that cheeky grin, those rippling muscles beneath the tight top he was wearing. I remember the surge of heat and wetness between my legs, my desperation to remain calm. I remember it all. How could I ever forget?

  Now, the man of my dreams was no longer standing in front of my camera lens or staring out at me from the pages of a magazine. He was sitting in the living room of our beautiful New York penthouse, waiting for me to walk in and blow his mind.

  He was waiting to make love to me.

  As I pulled up my stockings and slipped into my high heels, I decided I shouldn't keep him waiting any longer. I checked myself one last time in the floor-to-ceiling mirror beside our bed. Rick had put it there for two reasons; firstly, because I'm a girl and you know how us girls need a mirror, right? It was only much later that I realised why it had to be so close to our bed. I assumed it was so he could watch as he made love to me, so he could look to the side and see me moaning in ecstasy as he thrusted deep inside me. But I was wrong. I never caught him looking in that mirror while we made love and, in a way, maybe I had been a bit presumptuous, assuming that all men were like that pretty much all the time.

  One night, as we were drifting off to sleep, he told me he liked to look across for a moment and see my face as I slept. Rick was the classic creative – a borderline insomniac who would stay up until 2 AM working on something then couldn't get to sleep for another hour because his mind was so active, so full of ideas. So he would get into bed, being careful not to disturb me, and rest his head on his hand as I slept, turned away from him. He told me how he would smile to himself and think of how lucky he was, how seeing the woman he loved sleeping so soundly and peacefully would clear his mind and bring him calm. It was enough to allow him to clear his thoughts, lay down his head and drift off to rest.

  I opened the bedroom door and slowly walked towards Rick, my high heels clicking against our solid wood floor.

  "Here comes the bride," I sang. "All dressed in white…"

  He was grinning from ear to ear. "And here is the groom, erect way too soon…"

  I did a little twirl in front of him, teasing him ever so slightly. "Do you take this sexy, curvy woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

  "I do. My God, how I do."

  I kneeled down in front of him and pulled at his belt, feeling the bulge that had already formed between his legs. "That's good," I cooed, releasing his erect manhood from its prison of fabric. "Because I promise to love, honour and cherish the cock I am about to take in my mouth."

  He moaned out as I slipped his hardness between my lips, rolling my tongue around the head and sucking slightly. His shaft felt both delicious and satisfying, a naughty precursor as to the size and length that would be entering me shortly. I never got tired of Rick's incredible manhood. He was the perfect length, the perfect thickness but, more importantly, he knew exactly how to use it. As I slowly moved my mouth back and forth, my nipples hardened and heat began to build between my legs. I was making him as hard as steel now, preparing him to deliver pure satisfaction to me. Already, I couldn't wait for him to pull off my panties and make love to me. He didn't just know how to fuck my body. He knew how to fuck my mind. More than anything, it was the perfect storm, a delicious combination that made me never want another man again. Why would I? Rick knew exactly how to satisfy a woman. Fortunately, that woman was me.

  "You've got to stop," Rick said. "You're going to send me over the edge."

  I released his shaft and stood before him, my
legs wide apart, and hooked my thumbs under the sides of my soaking wet panties. I slowly pushed them down, air kissing at my exposed buttocks, before the drenched gusset slipped off my glistening pussy. I left it below the line of my ass, stretched out between my thighs, and let Rick take in the view. He brought his hand to his upright cock and began to slowly masturbate. I touched my clit, delicately enough to excite me but not enough to cause a premature orgasm. I was already far too sensitive and knew that the slightest touch at this point could simply be too much for me.

  I let my panties fall to the floor and kicked them away, then turned to face away from Rick, slowly lowering myself down onto his manhood. I gasped as inch after rock-hard inch travelled up inside me, impaling me with sheer pleasure. There was no resistance; my entrance was fully parted and my soaking juices lubricating his entry to the point of complete effortlessness.