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everywhere as he moved and his body became like a piston, driving stroke after rockhard stroke into me. I felt that familiar knot in the pit of my stomach again, and I braced myself for what I knew would be a devastating orgasm. At the moment he came, so did I; his warm, creamy liquid pumping inside me and mixing with my own juices in a delicious cocktail. I wrapped my body around his, holding onto him for dear life as my mouth formed a silent scream. My orgasm tore through my body, sending me into blackness momentarily. I had never come so hard or with such complete and utter satisfaction before.
    Sounds became muffled and vision blurred as I slowly descended back to reality. His kisses brought me back to life, each delicate touch of his lips on mine reminding me that ecstasy was more than just a feeling – it was a real place, a moment with a real man. This man.
    "Holy shit," I laughed. "That was amazing. How the hell do we follow that?"
    He ran a finger softly down my cheek. "By doing it again and again and again. I want to make love to you all night, Amy. Then, in the morning, we'll bathe together and I'll bring you your breakfast so you can sit up in bed while looking out at the sun slowly rising over the mountains in the distance."
    As tears welled up in my eyes, all I could think to do was kiss him. This object of desire, this millionaire rock star, this unattainable icon was far more than any newspaper or magazine could ever portray. He was mesmerising me with his body and mind, this beautiful man, and at that moment there was nowhere else I wanted to be than with him.
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    "Where the fuck have you been?"
    I stood, motionless, as I stared at the stack of tabloid newspapers my editor had thrown down on the desk in front of me. He leaned back in his chair and stared at me as I tried to form a coherent sentence.
    "I… I…"
    "Forget it, Amy. I don't want to know. Sincerely, I don't. All I do know is that we've been trying to get hold of you all weekend and you clearly been off getting loved up with an international superstar. It's a miracle you haven't been papped all the way here. Then again, you probably have since you seem so oblivious to everything."
    Page after page of colour photographs pictured Rick and I leaving the restaurant on Friday night. Damn it , I thought. How stupid had I been? How naive to think I couldn't possibly be photographed with one of the biggest stars in the world in the centre of London.
    "I'm sorry, Jim, I didn't think…"
    He slammed his fist down on the desk, causing me to jump. "Damn right you didn't think! Look at these headlines, for Christ's sake. How the hell are we supposed to be taken seriously as the only remaining quality music magazine in the UK when our journalists are screwing the talent?"
    He held up a copy of The Sun , the biggest selling newspaper in the country. "BORRELL'S BUSTY BOMBSHELL" the headline read in typical tabloid style. Bizarrely, I found myself smiling a little at the description of me. Jim pulled it away and began to read the story out loud.
    "Beautiful Losers front man Rick Borrell stepped out on the town on Friday night with a mystery redhead. The two were seen smooching and cuddling as they left a private restaurant in the trendy Knightsbridge area of London. Rick, 30, has been in the UK to finish recording his reported solo album amidst ongoing rumours of a rift with his multi-million selling band. A source close to the singer said: 'Rick seemed really smitten with the sexy woman who accompanied him. Sporting flame-red hair and dangerous curves, it seems the millionaire rock star is looking more for the Christina Hendricks-type than the stick thin supermodels he's been out with in the past.'"
    Jim threw the paper across the room, sending the loose pages flying everywhere.
    "And what the fuck are you smiling about, Amy? What have you got to be pleased with?"
    My initial shock was turning to anger. Who the hell was this guy to tell me