Chasing Stars Read Online Free

moment, every inch of me, wills for this brooding man to hop on this table and fuck me. But, if I'm being honest, he does not seem very interested. At the very least, he has serious self-control.
    Keeping my lids closed, I feel the closeness of his hands when he places the blanket over my behind. All the while, I anticipate his touch.
    The melody of a new song flows in the desert room. I recognize the voice of Mathew Barber singing “Somebody Sometime,” one of my favorites. Between his strong presence, his gentle touch, and the familiar lyrics, I slowly drift into a deep sleep.
    Unexpected? Yeah, but I welcome the much-needed sleep my body lacks.
     
     

     
    I notice her breathing become even. What the hell, is she sleeping? Unbelievable, just like that. Though I would not have done anything anyway, it is unnerving to see her so calm. How can someone tease and seduce in one minute, only to fall into a profound sleep the following?
    Yes, I am pissed at myself, but also at her ability to undo me. Almost.
    Was she on fire just a second ago, or is my own desire messing with my imagination. I need a second shower. I stand up, stretch my aching muscles, and readjust my jeans.
    I stride to the kitchen. Before I reach for a coffee refill, I open the faucet to splash cold water over my face. It will have to suffice.
    My thumb twirls the band on my finger, reminding me of what it stands for and infusing me with resolve. With renewed strength, I grab my earplugs and tread back into the torture chamber. Five hours and this is over.
     
     

     
    For a few seconds, I wonder where I am. The room is quiet. Warm fingers press lightly over my skin, and I feel a firm sweep over my ribs. That’s what woke me, and I am so turned on.
    Hell. With whom did I go to bed? For a moment, confused and disoriented, I am afraid of opening my eyes.
    The scent of ink reminds me of where I am, and relief flushes through me.
    Waking up with a stranger has always terrified me, though it never got in the way of me going to bed with a man I just met. In all honesty, I enjoy every second of the night, until the following morning when the brief disorientation of waking up scares me and, against my will, a wave of regret and sadness replaces the fun from the previous night. I usually fight the feeling, but it always gets the best of me.
    I have never had a steady relationship. I learned very early, how usable we all are, and how vulnerable you become, when you become attached to someone. Instead of being used, I became the one who uses others. In return, I offer a glorious night of pleasure to those who venture to be with me. It is a win-win deal, no hurt feelings on either side.
    I don’t understand why and, frankly, I don’t care to. Waking up under the gentle stroke of Will’s steady hands made me yearn for some unknown crap.
    The soothing music is gone and the only sound I hear is the silent humming of his airbrush gun swishing over my skin.
    “What happened to the music?” My voice is raspy, longing.
    “Every five or so songs, I have a fast-paced song on the playlist.” I notice when he stops the air brushing. “You know, to keep me awake. You slept so peacefully. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
    The genuine concern in his voice breaks something inside me. I feel the absence of his hand and hear the wheels skidding on the wood floor. Music fills the room again. The calming beat of the song places me back at an idiotically relaxed state.
    I open my eyes. My arms, tucked under the pillow, are numb. I turn my head to have a full view of him, and our eyes meet.
    “Thank you for your thoughtfulness,” I say. “I was a tad tired. I did not get much sleep last night, and we have at least ten hours of filming after the tattooing. So, it was good to rest a bit,” I mumble.
    He simply nods.
    “How long was I out?” I ask.
    “Over two hours. I just want to finish this line on your sides. Do you need a break?”
    “No. I’m OK. Do what you have to