Rock Star by Jackie Collins Page A

sensitive hands roamed across her large breasts, rounded stomach and child-bearing hips. His fingertips barely touched, but soon she was longing for him to rip her clothes off.
    She moaned, a stifled sound, for Bobby liked her to remain passive until he indicated otherwise.
    With maddening restraint his hands leisurely found their way inside her blouse. He undid the buttons one by one, opening the garment.
    Her breasts strained to escape the confines of her bra. But he teased some more, playing with her swollen nipples through the material, tracing intricate patterns of intent.
    ‘Please, Bobby, please ,’ she had to beg.
    ‘Be patient, momma,’ he crooned. ‘I’m gonna get there, all in good time. Just you be quiet.’
    ‘Oh, God! ’ Her face was flushed, he tortured her with the waiting, and yet it was sweet torture and she was addicted to every wonderful moment of it.
    At last he snapped the clasp, allowing her breasts to burst free. She almost climaxed there and then, that’s how good his touch was. But he didn’t allow her to – ignoring her newly liberated bosom he moved down to her thighs, feeling the inner flesh, caressing, teasing, lifting her skirt inch by inch, pulling down her panties at a snail’s pace . . .
    ‘Bobby, you are drivin’ me crazy ,’ she managed to gasp.
    ‘Honey baby, you don’ know what crazy is .’
    And then he proceeded to show her with slow and sure expertise, bringing her to orgasm twice with his hands and tongue before finally consummating the sexual act.
    As he thrust in and out, Sara sobbed with a mixture of relief and pleasure. She loved the man so much, and yet she still wasn’t sure of his feelings for her. He needed her – oh yes, she was confident of that. But did he love her? He had never said so, although in moments of passion she told him all the time. In fact she was saying it now. ‘I love you, Bobby Mondella. Love you, love you, love you. Oh, how I loooove you.’ And again she was climaxing, just for him, the man she loved, the man she wanted more than anything in the world.
    His reply was no more than a long-drawn-out groan as he finally allowed himself release.
    Immediately he withdrew, rolling, across the bed, pulling a sheet over his nakedness as if he didn’t want her to see him in any other state except arousal.
    ‘Was it good for you, baby?’ She couldn’t stop herself from asking.
    The fires were vanquished, he was back in control. ‘I’m hungry,’ he said, abruptly changing the subject. ‘Did I hear talk about a bacon sandwich?’
    Dutifully she got off the bed, announcing, ‘It’s cold, I’ll make you another one.’
    ‘Cold is fine. Just hand it to me.’
    Without bothering to cover herself, she padded over to the table where she had left the tray, and took it to him. Normally she would have been self-conscious about displaying her body. She considered her legs too short, her ass too rounded, and her breasts too big, but with Bobby it didn’t matter, he couldn’t see her anyway. And if he could, he wouldn’t want her, she was sure of that. Because, in his time, Bobby Mondella had been with the most beautiful women in the world – black and white.
    Sara remembered the magazine stories, the scandals and the gossip. She also remembered the first time she saw him perform onstage back in 1980. She was eighteen years old and had just graduated from high school. Two girlfriends dragged her to a concert he was doing in Philadelphia. ‘He’s the sexiest man alive! ’ they both assured her. ‘Wait’ll you see him! This man is pure horn!’
    And she’d had to agree they were right. When he walked out on that stage in finely cut black pants and a white silk shirt, fifty thousand women began to wet their pants while screaming their lungs out. Bobby Mondella exuded sex. He was a walking, living, breathing phallic symbol. And what a voice!
    Sara became an immediate convert. She’d never dreamed that years later, soon after his terrible