Rising Star

by JS Taylor

  “You know,” Adam says, reaching across to take my hands as the waiter leaves with our order. “I wasn’t just trying to change the subject before. I really am interested in how things are going with your music video.”

  I smile.

  “Well,” I say, ploughing my memory for yesterday’s rehearsal. It seems like a lifetime ago. “Good,” I decide. “Dev.as.station are good to work with.”

  “No tensions?”

  Two delicious smelling lattes are set down.

  Hmmm. Good counteraction to that martini.

  “Um. Maybe a little,” I reply, picking up my latte cup and taking a foamy sip, “between George and Dushane at least.”

  Adam smiles wryly. “I thought as much.”

  “They’re just from different cultures.”

  “Well that can work well,” says Adam. “Who knows? George and Dushane might end up sweet on each other.”

  I half choke on my mouthful of coffee.

  “George and Dushane?” I blurt. “That will never happen!”

  I can’t think of a stranger combination.

  Adam sips his own coffee.

  “You might be surprised,” he says. “Fireworks are fireworks. And tension finds its own release.”

  I consider this, but I simply can’t imagine it happening.

  Thinking about George jerks a sudden memory.

  George’s birthday!

  “Shit!” I slam my hand into my forehead. “It’s George’s twenty-first birthday tomorrow. Her party is tonight. I need to buy her a present. A good one.”

  I still haven’t solved the puzzle of how to buy George a gift, with only a few pounds in my bank account.

  The waiter has arrived with our food, and I silently consider the problem, as a plate of savoury pancakes and poached eggs are set in front of me.

  The food looks incredible, and my growling stomach attests to the effect of the martini. I’m starving.

  George’s twenty-first birthday. It’s a biggie. I need a really good gift.

  My band-mate comes from a family who bought her a pony when she was five. I don’t think she’d appreciate a handmade card and present.

  Adam reads the turmoil in my face with an interested expression.

  “Want me to help you out?” he asks.

  My eyes flick up to his in surprise.

  “How do you mean?”

  Adam picks up his cutlery and slices into his own plate of eggs. Bright yellow yoke stains the plate.

  “I mean,” he says, “That I know Sing-Win aren’t paying any salaries yet. And I’m guessing, you weren’t earning much prior to that.”

  “What makes you think that?” I say defensively.

  Adam smiles. “Oh, just the little fact that you were living in a bedsit with two other girls. I looked up your address,” he adds, in answer to the question on my face. “I wanted to find out more about you.”

  “You know that does actually count as stalking,” I laugh, wondering whether to be offended at the assumptions he’s correctly made. “You’re not allowed to use contestant information like that.”

  “All’s fair in love and war,” shrugs Adam. “In any case,” he continues, “I’m guessing you have cash flow problems. So I’m going to help you out. Just temporarily,” he adds with a wink, “before Summer Evans becomes a millionaire household name.”

  I laugh, defeated by his charm.

  “Help me out how?” I ask cautiously. I hate the idea of taking money off him.

  And I can’t imagine how else Adam could help with a present for George.

  “I won’t take money off you,” I add, taking a bite of my own food. The eggs combined with the soft pancakes are heavenly.

  “I thought you might have a silly hang-up about that,” replies Adam, swallowing his bite of breakfast. “So I wasn’t going to suggest it. But by my calculations, I still have you for another few hours, before your next studio time.”

  I nod, wondering how he’s memorised my schedule so perfectly.

  I take another hungry mouthful of eggs, and Adam looks on appreciatively as I swallow with relish.

  “These are good,” I say, hoping my appetite hasn’t overtaken my table manners.

  He beams at me. “I’m glad you like them.”

  “So,” he continues, “I had plans to take you jewellery shopping.”

  Adam sips his coffee as my eyes widen.

  “You did? But you already bought me jewellery,” I say, fingering the St Cecilia necklace at my throat. “You don’t need to buy me more. I love this.”

  “The necklace is something with meaning from me,” says Adam. “A romantic gift. But now I feel like buying you something truly outrageously decadent.”

  I smile.

  “You don’t need to spend a lot of money on me,” I say gently. “It’s you I want. Not your pop star bank account.”

  He smiles back.

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” he says. “Summer, you have more integrity than any girl I’ve met.”

  He pushes his dark hair out of his face with a mischievous grin.

  “Which is why I want to buy you some fancy jewellery. You deserve it.”

  He nods at me. “And it just so happens,” he adds, “I have an account at the shop we’re going to. Why don’t you pick out something for George there, as well as yourself?”

  My face splits into a smile of gratitude.

  “On account? So I could pay you back? You’re sure?”

  Jewellery would be perfect for George.

  I’m already planning what might suit her best. Although I’d better hope he’s taking me to a store with some budget options so I can repay him.

  “I’d be offended if you tried to pay me back,” says Adam as if reading my thoughts. “Think of it as a down payment from Sing-Win,” he adds.

  “I don’t know about that,” I say.

  “It would be my pleasure,” he says sincerely.

  “It’s really generous of you. But I don’t like the idea of not paying you back.”

  Adam rolls his eyes, exasperated.

  “How about we say, you pay me back when you make your first million?” he suggests.

  “But what if I never…”

  “I have absolute faith in you,” he says, cutting me off. “Talent like yours can’t fail to succeed.”

  “It’s very generous of you,” I say, smiling weakly.

  Adam smiles. “You don’t know the store yet,” he points out. “I could be taking you to the 99p shop.”

  I laugh. “Somehow,” I say, “I don’t think that’s your style.”

  Chapter 16

  We finish our breakfast, and Adam settles the bill.

  All the drama of earlier has faded away, and I feel almost completely at ease again. The problem with Dez has vanished under Adam’s deft management. And suddenly the future looks much brighter than it has in days.

  I glance fondly at Adam, thinking how much I like him.

  I hadn’t realised how much stress I’d been under. But now it’s gone, it’s like my feelings for Adam have turbo charged.

  As he guides me out of the restaurant, he drops his hand to just above my ass. And it’s like a lust bomb has detonated.

  Jeez. Is this what they mean about danger and sex?

  Suddenly I’m beyond desire for this man. I feel like a lust-soaked teenager.

  Does he feel the same?

  I sneak a glance at Adam’s expression, but it’s unreadable.

  Just me then.

  All the same, I’m relishing being close to him as we move into the empty corridor exiting Roast. Since we missed out on the date last night, we’ve got some lost time to make up. I let my imagination wander over what might happen later.

  Mmmmm.

  As I’m indulging in a fantasy of a later date, Adam’s arm moves to wrap around my waist. And before I know what’s happening, he’s pushing me up against the wall.

  Oh. Wow.

  His lips slam into mine, a
nd my body explodes in desire for him. Adam’s hands tunnel roughly under my skirt, as our mouths search deeper.

  This is so hot.

  I have a fleeting thought that we’re in a public corridor. But it’s smacked back down by a hot lava flow of desire. Right now, I want him so badly, I can’t control myself.

  Adam moves me a few steps, and I catch a sign for the ladies bathroom. Then we’re tumbling back through the door and into the washroom.

  I inhale clean soaps and citrus fragrance as Adam half walks, half carries me inside. Then he’s bundling me into a stall, and shutting the door.

  We’re about to make out… In a bathroom stall?

  The inappropriateness of our environment barely registers. Adam wrenches up my skirt full around my hips, and pauses to assess my barely-dressed lower half.

  “I want you,” he growls, “now.”

  His hands are under my T-shirt now, freeing my bra, and roaming over my breasts. I gasp as his fingers find out my nipples, and tweak them.

  “Take your shirt off,” I gasp, fighting for air beneath the passion of our deep kisses.

  Adam draws back for a moment, and then his shirt is up over his head, and off.

  My eyes roam his taut chest. The array of colourful tattoos.

  Adam moves so his fists are clutching the side of my panties, and before I realise what’s happening, he rips them clean away.

  Shit! He’s just ripped my panties off!

  The tattered remains of my panties drop to the bathroom floor.

  “Now,” he says, emphasising the word with his eyes, and unbuttoning his jeans.

  I nod, keeping my eyes on him, and then I feel his hardness spring free and press against me, as he yanks himself clear of his boxers.

  He pulls a condom from his pocket, rips the foil and slides it on. I’m trembling with anticipation at what he’ll do next.

  Then he lifts me square onto his hips, as though I weighed nothing. And he’s inside me. Deep inside me.

  Oh!

  I’ve never had him this deep before. The position allows me no escape from his length. My body weight forces him all the way in – and more.

  “Deep?” he murmurs, settling me squarely onto him. His hands are on my buttocks, pinning me easily against the wall of the stall.

  I nod, struck by the intensity. My eyelids are fluttering at the sensation.

  He’s so big. It’s almost painful.

  “Good,” he growls, digging his hands into my buttocks. Adam kisses me, his tongue snaking into mine.

  “Open your eyes,” he gasps, speaking into my open mouth.

  My eyes open to see him looking back. Then, he draws out a little, and plunges forward in a deep thrust. His eyes are wicked. Knowing.

  I gasp, and see the satisfaction in his face.

  He does it again. Thrusting deeply. But slowly, savouring my expression.

  I’m hovering on the brink of ecstasy, in the electric border between pleasure and pain.

  Then, keeping his expression nailed on mine, Adam moves his hand, and strokes my clitoris in an easy languid circle.

  “Adam!” I groan, feeling my body constrict around him.

  “I love feeling that,” he whispers, making another tantalising circle between my legs. “I love feeling your excitement whilst I’m inside you.”

  I’m overtaken by another surge of powerful lust, and this time it seems to sweep me into another persona. And in this moment, I want him. All of him.

  My eyes channel into his, and I see him read me.

  “I want you,” I say, in answer to the question in his face. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

  Adam moans slightly, and his mouth crashes back into mine. And then his hips start moving, slowly for a few thrusts, and then building faster.

  Resting me on his hips allows him to explore me mercilessly. It’s so intense, so fierce, that for a moment I think my body won’t be able to take it.

  My ass is slamming against the stall, as his body forces relentlessly into me. I hook my hands over his shoulders, throwing my head back in abandon.

  There’s nothing but me and him. The raw power of his body. And the carnal torrent of mine.

  “Ahhhhhh!” I sigh aloud with pleasure, as the bolts of orgasm hit. And then I feel him connecting, coming with me. His pace slows, but his thrusts reach a powerful force as he reaches his edge.

  Then he’s gripping my buttocks, reaching deep inside me, and the sounds of his pleasure intermingle with my own.

  It’s like a sweeping force field is running over both of us, pulling us together in a rippling electric haze.

  I cry out again, and bury my mouth in his neck, winding my fingers into his hair.

  And then we’re breathing slower, our mouths entwined, drawing out the last few moments together.

  “Summer,” breathes Adam, still holding me firmly around his waist. “That was… I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much.”

  “Me neither,” I admit, moving a strand of sweat-soaked hair out of my face.

  He eases me back down to standing. And then he drops the condom into the toilet and flushes.

  Suddenly I’m reminded of where we are.

  “Shit!” I grin at him. “A bathroom stall. That is so bad!”

  He grins back. “Bad in a good way?”

  “Maybe.” I smile at him shyly. I’m still sweaty from the wild sex we just had. But I’m no longer the hedonistic creature who demanded to be fucked harder against the bathroom wall.

  “I’ve never done that before,” I admit.

  “In a bathroom?”

  “No. I mean. You know. In public. Outside of a house.”

  “Oh,” Adam gathers me into his arms thoughtfully. “Did you like it?”

  I nod, blushing a little.

  “Good.” He kisses my mouth.

  “What did you like about it?” he asks.

  I try to evade his searching gaze, feeling uncertain at his question.

  How can he ask me these things?

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, smiling at my coyness. “Tell me. Was it because it was forbidden?”

  “Um. Yes maybe.” I’m thinking about his question more seriously now. It’s easier to answer him now he’s given me a context.

  “It’s just a bit wrong isn’t it?” I say, searching for the right words. “You know. Doing it somewhere you shouldn’t.”

  Adam looks as though he’s logging this.

  “I think,” he says slowly, “that you are much naughtier than you realise, Summer Evans.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” Adam reaches down, and gives my bare behind a little slap. The force of it gives me a combined bolt of shock and lust. “And I think we should investigate this side of you a little more,” he breathes, moving his mouth a little closer.

  “Should we?’ I’m not sure how I feel about that. His eyes look positively wicked. I can’t even begin to imagine what he might be thinking right now.

  Keeping his eyes on me, Adam pulls his jeans back into place, and buttons them slowly. Then he reaches down and scoops up the remains of my torn panties. I’d forgotten he’d ripped them off in the heat of the moment.

  “I think,” he murmurs, “we should see how you like submitting to a little fantasy of mine.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, swallowing.

  In reply, Adam tugs my skirt back down over my hips. He straightens the hem so it falls in line with my knees.

  “No panties,” he says. “For the rest of the day.”

  My eyes widen. “You don’t mean…”

  “No panties,” he repeats. His hand runs along the side of my skirt.

  “I want you,” he says, his voice dropping, “Naked under your skirt. All day.” He draws the words out, emphasising them. “Do you understand me Summer?”

  I nod fractionally.

  I feel as though I’m hypnotised. Like he has some spell over me. I’m at his every command.

  Adam’s ha
nd slips down, and rests lightly over my skirt, at the apex of my thighs. It feels as though his fingers might burn through the fabric.

  “Since I very first met you, I’ve fantasised about what’s between your legs,” he says. “It will drive me wild knowing you’re naked under here and only I know it.”

  I swallow, watching the dark look in his eyes.

  “If you’re a good girl and do what I say,” he says, “then later today, I’ll put my mouth here.”

  Mmmmmm. That is a nice thought.

  “But,” he adds, his voice taking on a dangerous softness, “if you disobey me, there will be consequences.”

  I nod slowly, transfixed by his gaze.

  Consequences?

  I hardly know what I’m agreeing to. But I can’t deny the effect it’s having on my body. Something about his taking control like this… It’s so hot.

  “Now,” says Adam, tugging my shirt back down into place and adjusting the hem carefully. “I’m taking you shopping.”

  His eyes glitter. “And I’ll enjoy it so much more,” he adds, balling up my panties, and putting them in his pocket, “knowing I’ve got your panties.”

  Adam gives me a wicked grin.

  “Come on,” he says. “I can’t wait to pick some jewellery for you.”

  Chapter 17

  We motor up Regent Street, and then the bike is in Mayfair, passing all the designer shops. I spot the incredible displays of Vivienne Westwood, and Vera Wang. Then Claridge’s slips by, followed by a bevy of fine restaurants, wine cellars, and cigar shops.

  Ok. So this jewellery store is in a smart part of town.

  The bike veers up Bond Street, and then Adam slows and stops. My eyes drift up to the store in front of us. Tiffany’s.

  Tiffany’s! Seriously?

  I’m both delighted and embarrassed. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of visiting this store. But I can’t let Adam buy a present for me and George from here. It’s too much.

  Adam parks the bike.

  “Tiffany’s?” I say, grinning, as we both climb off. “Are we really going in here?”

  Adam catches me in his arms and kisses me.

  “Yes,” he replies, “we really are. Why do you sound so surprised? I’m a famous musician aren’t I?”