by JA Low
“It must suck that people make up stories about you,” I tell him.
“Yeah it does, especially when they are so vanilla.” He rolls his eyes.
“Don’t want your reputation tainted by being too ‘vanilla’.” I use air quotes over the word.
“You could say that.” He gives me a smirk. Is he flirting with me? Maybe I’m drunk. Did I hit my head? “Have you been enjoying your coffee?” he asks, suddenly changing the subject.
“Of course. It’s amazing. I look forward to it every day. But honestly you don’t have to keep buying us coffee.”
“Look, I’m addicted. I order the office a round so thought I might as well send a round to you guys too.” Of course he does. Did you actually think you were special, Stacey? This man is a rock star. He’s interested in supermodels and non-vanilla women, which is not you.
“Well thank you. Sienna appreciates it.” Have another sip of that beer, Stacey. Fill in those awkward gaps. “Your house is nice.” I internally groan at my assessment of his multimillion dollar, architecturally designed mansion.
“Thanks. Want a tour?”
“Sure.” Because sitting here any longer means I’m going to embarrass the hell out of myself. He shows me around the bottom level first where there’s a movie theatre, wine cellar, games room, and a bar which leads out to his pool. It’s very nice. He takes me upstairs next showing me the guest bedrooms, which are all pretty impressive. Then we stop at the last room.
“This is my room.” He points through the open door.
“Cool.” Now I’m picturing him sleeping naked in his bed. These are not the kind of thoughts I should be thinking about right now.
“You don’t want to riffle through my underwear draw?” I give him a strange look. “It happens more than you think.”
“You mustn’t be bringing home the right kind of girls then.” Oscar smiles.
“I think you’d be right there.”
“You should have higher standards.” Shut up, Stacey.
“Stacey. Where’s my Stacey,” Derrick bellows from below. He looks up and see’s us walking out from Oscar’s room. His eyes narrow on the two of us, assessing what he thinks was going on.
“Oscar was just giving me his crib’s tour,” I yell down to Derrick. “Thanks for today. It’s been an adventure.” I hand him my empty bottle of beer. I have a real buzz going on now.
“Maybe we should do it again?” he suggests.
“Yeah, probably not.” The words are out before I even realize how that sounds. I quickly descend down the stairs before I say anything else that’s stupid.
“Are you okay, princess?” Derrick pulls me into his arms and holds me tight. “You’re safe now, Uncle Derrick is here.” Nothing creepy about that at all, D. But I’m ready to go.
“Thanks for the beer,” I call back to Oscar. He gives me a small smile.
“I want all the details. Because what the fuck happened today?” Derrick questions.
“I have no idea, Derrick. No fucking idea.”
4
Stacey
Three months later
Australia
What an absolute whirlwind these past couple of months have been. As much as I love my new life in Los Angeles, coming home to Australia and soaking in that sunshine and clean air is just what I needed to revitalize myself before going back again. I’ve been having so much fun with Derrick, we live in the best location right in the heart of everything in WeHo. We never use the kitchen in our apartment because most nights we are out having dinner. I’ve become good friends with Vanessa too, Sienna’s best friend, and Isla, Oscar’s sister. She’s also the band’s assistant. It’s nice having them around, especially Isla as Sienna’s in a different phase of her life compared to us single ladies who are still out partying until the early hours most weekends. Not that I’m looking for anything serious at the moment, maybe in a year’s time when things have settled down with my job. At the moment I’m working eighteen hour days and have little time for anything outside of work, but it’s not like I’ve been a nun while in LA. I’ve hooked up with a couple of different guys, mostly one night stands, the perfect stress relief and that’s all I’m looking for at the moment. I haven’t heard from Oscar since I was attacked by the paparazzi. It’s probably for the best. I’ve become close friends with his sister now, and she told me all these horror stories about him and her friends. Plus, one of his band mates is marrying my close friend, and if anything happened and then it turned sour it would ruin all the fun dinners and get togethers we all do as a group.
We’re currently in Byron Bay for Sienna and Evan’s wedding. Her family own a health retreat there; it’s nestled in the hinterland of Byron Bay, which is basically paradise on earth. The lush green rainforests reach all the way to the turquoise ocean.
We’ve spent the day at Sienna’s bridal and baby shower at a stunning private home that backs onto the world-famous beach. The boys had their own party on the beach not far from where we were. Sienna was in her element with her tropical themed party, she looked like Boho Barbie. Her beautiful bump on display. As the sun set the party moved from cute baby shower to wild bachelorette party, especially when the strippers arrived. Derrick was the happiest of them all of course. I’m pretty sure he organized them just for him. But the mood changed a little when Evan turned up and caught the strippers getting down and dirty with Sienna. He didn’t look happy, especially when he stomped all the way upstairs hand in hand with her, but whatever he did, Sienna came back smiling and very flushed before he whisked her back home. The parents joined them, leaving us singletons to enjoy the strippers and the unlimited bar. The champagne was replaced by tequila and vodka and the boys eventually came up from the beach joining us on the main floor of the home.
“Body shots, body shots,” Johnny from Sons of Brooklyn starts chanting. Everyone is pretty wasted, Derrick has disappeared with one of the strippers, Vanessa and Christian have gone somewhere, Isla said she needed to use the bathroom but hasn’t come back yet.
“I dare you.” Camryn, the event planner and longtime friend of Vanessa’s, nudges me.
“I’m pretty sure he’s looking at you.” Camryn’s back straightens up at my comment.
“You think? He’s a bit young.” She focuses on the half-naked rock star in front of us.
“You’re not looking for a husband, are you?” Camryn shakes her head. “Then why not have some fun. I bet he would be fun. Worst case, he’d have stamina.” Camryn turns and looks at me, a wide smile across her face. She grabs my face and gives me a quick kiss.
“That boy is going to have no idea what hit him.” I watch in awe as she marches over to where Johnny is standing, in nothing but a pair of low-slung board shorts, his impressive body covered in tattoos on display.
“I’m game.” Camryn smirks at him. She’s going to eat that boy alive, but I don’t think he cares because the look that comes over his face tells me he would happily be devoured by her.
“She’s going to eat him alive, isn’t she?” A deep voice startles me, as a large shadow falls across me. I look to my side and see Oscar taking a seat beside me.
“It’s like a car crash, but you can’t look away.” My attention moves back to the craziness going on in front of us.
“You think we might get a show?” His blond eyebrow arches up, a smirk forming across his face.
“I sure hope so,” I say to shock Oscar. But instead he stares at me intensely, those ice blue eyes sending tiny prickles over my skin. He takes a sip of his beer, but his intense stare is still there, as if I’m a puzzle he’s trying to work out.
“Do you like to watch?” Again, that blond eyebrow arches, as if daring me to tell him my inner sexual thoughts. Is he flirting with me again? I can’t tell. I will say he is looking mighty fine tonight. I take a sip of my drink and take him all in, his long blond hair is out, his beard is neatly trimmed, not too long not too short. Bronzed arms that stretch the white sleeves of his tight t-shirt.
The colorful ink peeking out underneath the fabric, teasing me. Wish I was brave enough to take a closer look at them, but honestly he scares me. Not in a serial killer kind of way but more in the, gee I wonder if this man is big all over kind of intimidating way, and if maybe he breaks women when he sleeps with them. You know, the normal kind of thoughts.
“If someone is willing to put on a show, how can I say no?” I arch my own blonde brow back at him. Those blue eyes narrow and a smile forms on his face. Have I ever seen Oscar smile this wide before? Does he do that before he kills his prey? It’s making me super nervous.
“I don’t think you’re as prim and proper as I think you are.” His comment catches me off guard.
“You think I’m prim and proper?” I look down at the barely there bikini I have on, with the tiniest of sarongs tied around my waist, there isn’t much left to the imagination. Oscar’s eyes roam over me again, briefly landing on my chest, his look heating my skin with each scan. He just nods and takes another sip of his beer. I watch as his pink, plump lips wrap around the bottle. I shouldn’t be looking at him like that, my thighs should not be rubbing together, but I’m trying to starve off the heat that is throbbing between them. He’s off limits.
“The buttons of your shirts are always done up.” I frown at him. What is he talking about, my buttons? I look down at my chest, I have no buttons. “Every time I’ve seen you, the buttons of your work shirts are done up one too many buttons.” He’s noticed my buttons; my cheeks begin to heat. This is weird flirting, but I’ll go along with it. My attention is pulled back to what is happening in front of us. Hooly Dooly, when did I tune back into the porn channel? Camryn is licking tequila from Johnny’s body; her tongue is running along his stomach muscles. Each time moving further and further down his body, I watch in utter fascination as she cheekily sweeps her tongue along the band of his board shorts, which are sporting a rather large tent. Camryn looks up at him wickedly; her tongue licks along her wet lips, her body swaying seductively in front of a mesmerized Johnny.
“I think I’m going to give them their privacy. I’m going to go back to the resort.” I stand up from my seat.
“I’ll come with you.”
“You sure?”
“Unless they want a third, no point in me sticking around.” Interesting.
We make our way outside the private house into the waiting limousine for us. Oscar goes directly to the mini bar and rifles through it.
“They’ve got champagne, tequila or vodka?”
“I’ll take a couple shots of tequila, please.” He pours out a couple shots into the crystal tumblers then adds a couple of ice cubes to it. He hands it to me.
“Cheers.” We clink our glasses together. The smooth burn of the tequila flows down my throat.
“So, question. Have you had many threesomes?” Oscar chokes on his drink beside me at my overly personal question. “You mentioned you would stay if they wanted a third, so I was just curious?” Oscar recovers from the shock.
“Yes, of course.”
“You say that like it’s a normal thing? Is it? I’ve never had one, so I have no idea.” Is this tequila some kind of truth serum? He really didn’t need to know that.
“I guess with what I do, the opportunities are presented to me more than to anyone else.” He sips his drink.
“Aren’t you worried that they will talk?” I lean back against the soft leather of the car seat.
“Of course. But honestly, if a girl is selling her story about having a threesome with a rock star, you know that’s just going to make me look good.”
“You’re such a dick.” I roll my eyes. “Unless she tells them you have a small dick or that you come too early.” Oscar smiles hungrily at me.
“Look at me. You seriously think I would have a small dick?” Oh, so cocky, but yeah I highly doubt it, he’s probably packing Thor’s hammer in those pants. But he did say look at him, so I do. I lazily let myself take him in. When I’m finished his hand moves to his crotch and he adjusts himself. “You shouldn’t look at me like that, Stacey,” Oscar warns me.
“You told me to look at you.” I take a sip of my drink.
“You’re looking at me like you’re imagining just exactly how big my dick is and you’re wondering if you can handle it.”
“Cocky much?”
“Not cocky, you’re just easy to read.” He’s right, sometimes I find it hard to hide my expressions.
“I was only curious because you brought it up, not my fault.” I hold my hands up in the air.
“True, but you were curious about how many threesomes I’d had. And to answer that question, many…”
“It doesn’t impress me, you know?” It intrigues me though.
“Wasn’t trying to.” He smirks. We both fall into silence; a thread of sexual energy is weaving its way around the interior of the car.
“Would you want a threesome?”
“You offering?” I bite back.
“Yes.” I freeze. This gets my attention making me sit up straight. “I think little Stacey Ferguson isn’t as prim and proper as she seems.”
“You assumed that by how many buttons I choose to do up. I thought I was being professional.”
“I can see why you do. Your tits are magnificent.” Huh. What? I look down at them. Really? He thinks they are magnificent. I’m guessing he would know; he seems like he would be a boob expert.
“Thank you.” I give him a smile. Are we stepping over that line we’re not meant to cross? Probably. But I’ve had way too much drink to say no to my starving kitty downstairs.
5
Oscar
I’ve been watching Stacey most of the night, which sounds terribly creepy. I promise I’m not a creep. From the moment I met her months ago, there was something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it’s the way she kind of flirts with me, but it’s so casual that I don’t know if she’s just being nice or if she’s attracted to me. She doesn’t seem that fazed by my celebrity status, actually it seems like a turn off for her, which is different from the women I usually meet. Maybe that’s what has my dick interested; she’s a challenge because she doesn’t seem that into me, other than being a friendly acquaintance. Or it could be the fact that now she has become friends with Isla. She’s popped over to my house a couple of times to hang out with Issy. I usually make myself scarce for her other friends but not when it’s Stacey. I lurk around to overhear their conversations about the guys they are meeting while out and about and the really bad sex she’s been having. I don’t understand how guys can be so selfish when they have someone as beautiful as Stacey in their bed. I would make sure I worshipped her all night if she was in mine.
There’s something about Stacey Ferguson that has me doing things I don’t normally do, like the whole coffee thing. It started out as a nice welcoming present, but the coffee was just too good, so I continued. I realized I may have been coming on a little strong the afternoon of the paparazzi incident where I took her home. I don’t know why I did that. It was so out of character for me, but seeing her body crumbled on the ground, her frightened screams, I instantly became protective of her. I think I pushed her too far with the house tour, because she couldn’t get out of there fast enough when Derrick arrived. I subtly put feelers out that maybe we could catch up again, but she squashed that by running out of my house. I felt a little weird after that, so I’ve kept my distance from her, until tonight.
I saw her prancing around in that barely there bikini. What the hell? I was shocked. The girl wears the buttons of her work shirts done up one button too high and now, now she is practically naked. Goddamn it, her body is sinful. She has a great peachy ass that I just want to bite. A nice pair of natural tits, which are the right amount for my large paws. She’s all natural. You can’t even compare her to those Hollywood girls who are all silicon, have inch thick make-up and over injected lips. I’ve noticed she barely wears make-up, just a hint of gloss across her pink lips, her hair is always pulled up in a me
ssy ponytail, one that I wouldn't mind wrapping around my hand while she sucks my dick. See, this woman is driving me crazy. I can’t touch though, she’s friends with Isla. But the girl is just so damn sexy. Now you understand why I am sitting here watching her, because otherwise I am going to want to touch.
“Your tits are magnificent.” My comment flusters her.
“Thank you.” She smiles. “No one has told me that before.”
“Then you have been hanging around with the wrong men.” I give her a wink.
“But you're happy to pick up the slack for all of them,” she teases.
“I usually do. Look at me.” Stacey just shakes her head and smiles.
“You’re so use to women falling at your feet, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” It’s not cocky. It’s the truth. Women do.
“Well, let it be known. I am not one of those women.” She waggles her finger in my face. “A pretty face doesn’t sway me.”
“I was hoping for maybe handsome, rugged even, but coming from you I’ll take pretty.”
“Stop flirting.” She points that finger at me again. “You can’t flirt with me.”
“Why not?” I’m curious to hear her answer.
“Because, you know why…”
“Not my fault I find you attractive.” The tips of her ears go pink.
“You’re only human.” This makes me laugh.
“I like hanging out with you. It’s easy,” I confess. She’s funny, smart and beautiful. Usually when I find that, all I can think about is banging them, but maybe because I can’t, and sex is off the table, no matter how much we flirt we both know nothing will happen between us.
“I guess you’re not so bad yourself...for a rock star.” She smiles, rolling her eyes playfully.
“Not a fan of rock stars?” I wonder what her type is. She just shrugs. So, she’s not impressed by people like me. What does impress her?