Fiction Infatuation - Sean Rush

So, yeah, I wrote Sean Rush. But that doesn't mean I can't have a killer crush on him, right?

First, he's a rock star. That alone is smoking hot. He plays guitar, he sings (in a deep, dark voice, I might add) and he fronts the band. He's basically walking sex right there.

But then there's his looks:  Sean Rush was even more terrifying-looking in person than he was on the album covers. He was absolutely massive, standing 6’6, and covered head-to-toe in muscles, which were deeply tanned and sported a variety of tattoos that ran from his wrist to his shoulder on both arms, as well covering the backs of both calves. On that night, his long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, but in the music videos I’d seen of him it flew wild and hung below his shoulders.  Need I say more? Sure let's.  I could not look away. His wet hair hung down around his shoulders in soft clumps, the color of rich soil. His arms were sculpted into hard lines of muscle beneath colorful tattoos.  His chest was clear of any markings, not even a scar or a scratch. It too, was perfectly contoured, strong and hard, and with the exact right amount of fuzzy hair in the center.

When he bent over his bag I could see that his back was just as well defined, also free of tattoos, but with one small scar just above his right shoulder blade.  And the towel stretched across an absolutely exquisite butt. The man was a work of art.

And his...um...moves: Sean then proceeded to touch, kiss, and suckle every part of me above the waist. I was already writhing when he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, parted my thighs, and went to work with his tongue.

He also has that strong and protective man thing going on (I can't help it, that is so sexy): The door crashed into the wall, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere. Brynn released me like I was on fire.

Sean made it to me in a few strides and pulled me to him. “You okay?”

Finally, despite his looks, his job, and even his reputation. He's a big sweetheart: I could hear Sean whisper in my ear as he leaned over me. “Hey Baby, I’m going to pick you up now, okay.”

“No.” I intended for it to come out as a loud shout, instead it was a weak whisper. I tried again “No, no, no!”

He must have heard me, because his hands stilled on my shoulders and knees where he’d been about to lift me.

“Baby, we need to get you to a doctor,” Sean pleaded.

Check out Sean along with Hank, Sam, Jack, and Alonso from the Love on Tour series here.