Picture Perfect

nowhere. Maybe the problem was that the blood in my body had coalesced in my dick when she said she had her first orgasm staring at a picture of me. I wasn’t turned off by any of that in the least. In fact, it was one more thing we had in common, because my last orgasm happened while I was staring at a picture of her, just a few hours ago.
    "I don't get it. Why does the fact that you liked me when you were a kid mean that we can't pursue our attraction now? You've totally lost me."
    Tess looked at me like I was completely daft. "Flynn, I'd be no better than a groupie or a stalker. Doesn’t it bother you out that I used to like you that much?"
    I couldn't help my grimace at her use of the words "used to."
    "No babe, it doesn't bother me at all that you’re a fan of my music. It also doesn’t bother me that you find me attractive. You have a completely backwards view of what a groupie is. A groupie is a totally different kind of fan that comes backstage specifically to fuck. They normally don't even care which one of us they get. There's a big difference babe. Just to be clear, by your definition, I might as well be a groupie for you. I've been staring at the photos you're in for weeks, and yes, I’ve jerked off to them. As for being a stalker… unless you’ve been following me or breaking into my house, I hardly think you qualify. I might qualify though, because I sought you out. So what does that make me? Believe me… I've been working overtime on one fantasy of you after another. If it makes you feel any better, my last orgasm happened while I was looking at you. We aren't different from one another Tess. Having a crush on someone you don’t know and have only seen in pictures is totally normal. But this… this is different. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it."
    She really seemed to consider what I'd said, but she still didn’t look sold. All I could think about was how badly I needed to kiss her, how much I hoped that a kiss would sway her decision. Sliding across the couch toward her, I gently pulled her into my arms. I had to tell myself not to yank her into my arms like a sex mad lunatic. The faint flush of her skin turned me on, big time. Threading my fingers in her hair, I closed the remaining gap between us and covered her mouth with mine.
    Right away, the difference was huge and noticeable. Turns out that there were kisses, and then there were kisses . This was the latter, and in a huge way. Our mouths moved together like they were made to. She tasted like champagne and her, and I couldn't hold in the growl that escaped from me. I was completely engulfed by Tessa and my need for her. It alarmed me a bit that I'd never felt such passion for anyone before, much less such all-consuming need.
    What was she doing to me?

Chapter Nine

    When Flynn asked me to dinner, I thought I'd explode from the dueling thoughts that flooded my mind. One part of me was thrilled, and wanted to give a decisive yes. Flynn had turned out to be a really interesting man, and I loved talking to him. It was funny that I thought I'd be so conscious of the fact that he was one of the most famous rock stars on planet earth, not to mention being my own personal version of ecstasy, but I really didn’t feel that way at all until right then. Up until right that second, I was with Flynn the man. As soon as he asked me to dinner, I suddenly saw Flynn the rock star standing before me.
    That wasn't thrilling. I didn't want to be just another groupie stalker throwing myself at him, the type who only saw what they want to see, fucking him just to say that they fucked Flynn Rand. I decided that he needed to know why I was going to say no, and I'd brought him into my suite.
    When I laid it out for him and explained the situation, I'd expected him to be turned off. He didn't respond like that at all. Instead, he told me that being a fan or a groupie meant two different things. And, he still wanted to have dinner with me! Flynn's the hottest guy I've ever laid eyes on. No stage gear necessary. He's naturally hot, and I’m so hot for him that I can feel the arousal pulsing through my veins. The fact that I was so attracted to him for so long actually deters me from him, as opposed to making me want to throw my panties in his lap. If I met him at a party and knew nothing about him, I'd want him. It isn't his fame or his talent that attract me. It was him .
    Still, something held me back. It bothered me how pathetic I’d felt since the