by Wild, Bella
“Fuck me, please Johnny,” I begged.
I shuddered as I returned from my peak, and looked up at his eyes, heavy-lidded with desire. He ran his fingers up my tender, moist inner thighs before his hand left me completely. He stepped away from the bed. I watched as he removed his boxers. I could not look away. He and his rock hard cock were too sexy to ignore.
He ran his hand along the shaft, sliding on a condom. Watching him as he touched himself sent a shiver up my spine. I moved a hand to my breast and gently rolled my nipple as I looked on. I arched my back again, angling my hips toward him, desperate for him to bury his hard cock inside me. I moved my hand from my breast and slid it down past my stomach. When I reached the bare skin of my pussy, I slid a finger in the wet trail he had left behind. I touched myself as I waited and he growled, climbing back into the bed.
Johnny lowered himself onto me, his eyes looking down between our bodies. He continued to stare as I pleasured myself. I spread my legs apart, not wanting to wait another second for him to take me. His eyes retuned to meet mine. They were wild. I knew he was ready. I reached my hands around to his ass cheeks and pulled him down onto me. With one thrust he filled me, and I screamed his name into the empty room.
“Oh, fuck,” I cried.
Each time he plunged into my tight pussy, it drove me closer. Every sound he made felt like it vibrated through me. I begged him to drive himself deeper inside me as my pussy tightened around his cock. I dug my nails into his back and bucked my hips wildly underneath him. His pace quickened, and when he lowered his head and slid his tongue around my nipple, I crashed over the edge and came again, shuddering against him.
He held me close as my body shook. When my breathing returned to normal, he slowly pulled out and stood up. He grabbed my hips and pulled me gently to the edge of the bed again. He held my legs up in the air and pressed his manhood into me. I moaned aloud from how amazing it felt from this angle. I begged him to fuck me harder, and he slammed into me, just the way I liked it. My soaking wet pussy clamped so tight around his cock, I could feel every inch.
He reached around with his free hand to massage my clit. This man’s touch was electric. I was closing in on another climax again. I rocked my hips wildly as he buried his hardness deeper inside me each time. He pumped into me, making his own groans of pleasure. I moved with him, desperately craving his intensified bursts. At last, my body hit its peak again, and this time I felt his body stiffen and jerk wildly. He let out a deep growl, and his massive cock swelled inside me when we came together.
He collapsed beside me on the bed, the two of us trying to rein in our breathing. It had been weeks since I had slept with a man. It had been much longer since a man had my body feeling the way Johnny did. Most of the time, men were selfish, and I was not shy—I would have to demand what I needed or risk having to finish myself off when they stepped into the bathroom. Johnny was different.
I looked over at him and let my eyes travel down his body. I smiled at him, and he beamed back at me. Johnny sat up after a few minutes. He brushed his hand along my leg before getting up and heading to his master bathroom. I waited for him to return, and when he did, he crawled into bed beside me. He stretched an arm around my waist and relaxed at my side. It felt good sticking around for a while.
When I heard his breathing change, I whispered his name. He didn’t answer—he was sleeping. I slid out from under his arm and got out of bed. I tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. This session tonight should hold me over for a while, I thought.
Chapter Seven
Johnny
The next morning, the familiar chirp of my alarm clock woke me up. I rolled over and stretched out an arm. Instant alarms went off in my head. I opened my eyes to check the other side of the bed. It was illuminated by the light filtering through the window. And it was empty. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked toward the master bath. The door was open, but the light was off. She wasn’t in there. The empty condom wrapper on my bedside table confirmed it hadn’t been a dream. Amanda had been here, in my bed. I remembered falling asleep next to her, waiting for our breathing to calm and my heart to stop pounding.
Someone knocked on my door, interrupting my thoughts. It was Kevin’s voice, screaming through the door again.
“I’ll be there in five!” I yelled, not wanting Kevin to burst in on me.
Suddenly, it came back to me as the bits of memories rearranged themselves in my groggy mind. Her scent, her taste, her smile, her touch. God, making love to her was mind-blowing. But then she left in the middle of the night?
I flopped on my back, wondering why she bothered going back to her room again, why she had not stayed with me. Images of the rest of the night came back too, in vivid detail. My cock throbbed and stiffened again, just from the memory. I threw off the sheets and went to have a shower. I could easily have indulged myself with a replay of the night’s events as I stood in the privacy of the shower—except there wasn’t enough time. Instead, I cut it short, dried off and threw on some clean clothes before rushing downstairs. I tried not to let myself think too much about what I was going to say to Amanda.
When I stepped into the kitchen, she was sitting at the breakfast bar, looking down at something on her phone.
“Good morning,” I said, clearing my throat when I rounded the corner. I stopped on the opposite side of the counter, interested in what her reaction would be to last night.
“Good morning, Johnny,” she said. She glanced up at me with a brief smile before looking back down at her phone. “How are you doing today?”
I was thrown off by her response. Her tone was professional and friendly; almost cool. Personally, I was hoping for warm and tender—and a bit of enthusiasm to see me wouldn’t hurt either. But this? She acted like nothing happened last night. I wasn’t expecting it. And now I wasn’t sure how to act. I turned to the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice.
“Did you, uh, sleep well?” I asked, careful not to be too suggestive in my tone.
“I did, thank you.”
I looked up from the glass of juice I was pouring. She smiled at me again. I was captivated by this woman. I got so distracted I ended up over-pouring the orange juice. It overflowed and spilled onto the counter.
“Shit,” I said under my breath, embarrassed.
She sounded out a short laugh before saying, “Don’t worry. I do that all the time.”
I was getting overly self-conscious around her. I shrugged off her attempt to set me at ease and went about cleaning up the mess. When I looked up again, she was back to staring down at her phone. Her notepad was on the counter next to her, so I figured she was taking notes as she reviewed the stalker messages, just like she had done yesterday afternoon. I was about to ask her about it, but got sidelined when Kevin walked into the room with a man I didn’t know.
“Johnny, Amanda,” he called out to get our attention. “This is Agent Carlson with the FBI.”
I reached forward and shook his hand. Amanda hopped down from her stool and came around to greet him.
“Great to meet you, Agent Carlson,” Amanda said. “Thank you for coming.”
She was close enough now that I could reach out and touch her. If I could have my way, I would slide an arm around her waist, cup her cheek with the other hand, and search for the spark of arousal in her eyes. After last night, I wanted to be close enough to breathe in the faint smell of her perfume.
I decided against it. I wasn’t sure what was going on in her head. What could she have been thinking? I was confused, and I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. We would talk later, and I could try to feel her out then. I also didn’t want Kevin to get any ideas. He had already made it clear he wanted me to focus. I kept my hands to myself, resisting the powerful urge to touch her.
“Let’s all speak in the living room,” Kevin said. “Agent, can I get you something to eat or drink? There’s a fresh pot of coffee on, if you’d like.”
“
Coffee sounds great, thanks,” he replied.
“Johnny, the housekeeper isn’t here yet. Would you mind?” Kevin asked, leading Agent Carlson and Amanda out of the kitchen. They were gone before I could object.
What the hell? Now I was the damn coffee barista? I grumbled all the way to the cupboard with the coffee mugs. And it was my damn fault too. I was the one who refused Kevin’s continued suggestion to keep a live-in housekeeper on staff. Well, if I was the coffee guy, I decided I might as well go all out.
I grabbed a tray from one of the cupboards and loaded it up. I poured the coffee into a white coffee carafe, and added four mugs, cream, sugar, napkins, and stir sticks. By the time I got to the living room, they were well into the conversation. I set the tray on the coffee-table and sat next to Amanda in the sofa, careful to keep enough distance between us.
Agent Carlson had a laptop open on the seat next to him. He referred to it as he raised questions and took notes. It was difficult to focus on most of what he was saying. First, because Amanda and our incredible night together kept playing on repeat in my head. Second, the issue of security was not my area of expertise.
When Amanda reached forward to get a cup of coffee, I stopped her. It was automatic, and didn’t give it any thought before doing it. I gently placed a hand on her arm, and took over pouring a mug of the steaming hot coffee. I held up a sugar packet, and she shook her head. I did the same with the cream, and she nodded. She looked over at me, and she held up her hand when I had put in enough cream. I stirred the coffee slowly, not breaking the eye contact between us. She nodded her thanks when I passed the cup of coffee to her. It felt like we were in our own little world. Except we weren’t.
Kevin cleared his throat and she turned to him and Agent Carlson.
“I’m sorry. Please continue,” Amanda said.
She seemed flustered, furiously scribbling notes with her free hand, as if to make up for my error in judgment. I couldn’t get her attention after that; even when I passed her a napkin. She took it without another glance. I leaned back on the couch and draped my arms across the seat back behind her. My fingers twitched. I was wishing they could rest on Amanda’s shoulder, or trace a tender path down her back.
“Johnny, are you even listening?” Kevin interjected.
“Yes. Of course,” I answered.
“Mr. Venom, what are your thoughts on all this?” the agent asked.
I sat up slightly when Amanda also turned to me.
“I don’t know. Isn’t this part of the life? Crazed fans who promise to do unpredictable and disturbing things?”
Agent Carlson nodded slowly, as if trying to assess me. “Sure. It’s common. Celebrities often end up with overly obsessed fans. Some of these fans escalate, and their behaviors cross into stalker territory. Most of the time, it’s harmless. But these messages you’ve been receiving are more sinister than your average super-fan. Have you seen all these posts?”
I nodded. “Some of them. Kevin showed me.”
“Then you understand how much you, your staff and fans are exposed, correct?”
“Maybe I haven’t seen everything. Can you tell me more about it?”
“Definitely. The FBI generally only gets involved in these cases this when there is a threat of violence that has a reasonable possibility of being carried out. To be perfectly clear, these are some of the worst ones we’ve documented in a while.”
He rummaged through some paperwork in his briefcase, and pulled out a few sheets of paper.
“In this one,” he started, scanning the first sheet, “the person has gone on for three paragraphs about your veins, wanting to taste the blood running through them. And here, the person mentions visiting you at home. They suggest they have slept in your bed before, and look forward to doing it again. Another talks about—I’ll leave that one out. Suffice it to say, it’s a gruesome description of what they would do with…um…certain body parts, which they would remove from your body and keep with them at all times.”
This was all news to me. This was not good. And I just pulled Amanda in the middle of what felt like an episode of that FBI crime show on TV. Shit.
Agent Carlson did not stop there. It got worse in a hurry. “And this one, it appears to originate from the same unsub. Unknown subject is what I mean. It talks about wanting the connection between the two of you to be so strong that it blows up the stage during an upcoming performance. It goes so far as to lay out how in the right conditions, and with the right device, you can both die in the flames. And not just the two of you. This individual wants to make it so they can take all your true fans at the event with you. The unsub fantasizes about all of you, together forever on the other side. And they mentioned your late parents as well.”
“Wait. What?” An unexpected chill went up my spine at the mention of my parents. I instantly straightened in my seat. “I didn’t know about those!”
Chapter Eight
Johnny
Amanda and Agent Carlson shot glances over to Kevin. He looked down at the floor, and then returned their gazes.
“Okay. So I didn’t show him all the messages,” he confessed. “He didn’t need the extra stress. What good would it have done, except have him more wound up than he already is?”
“Jesus, Kevin. People are talking about my parents? They want to eat my blood and blow us up at a concert, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
I stood up. My anxiety level had gone through the roof. I needed to move around. Or punch something.
“I didn’t want you to get sidetracked, Johnny,” he explained. “And cancelling the tour was out of the question. I told you the threats were serious and that’s all you needed to know. And look, that’s why I hired Amanda on the spot. Now that Agent Carlson is here, you don’t need to worry. Amanda and the team she puts together can focus on protecting you, and Agent Carlson can get to the bottom of who’s making these threats.”
I paced around beside the coffee table. “How? How exactly are they going to do that?”
That’s when Amanda added to the conversation. “We’re working out these details, Johnny. Here. Please, sit.”
Her voice instantly soothed me. She patted the seat next to her and I couldn’t resist. I sank down beside her and she casually rested her hand on my forearm. Her touch was comforting, but my mind was still spinning with all the new information that had just been dropped on me.
“When is the first show?” Agent Carlson asked.
“In four days. We fly to a private island off the coast of Greece. We’ll be there for two days before the concert, which is set for Sunday. It’s a private performance for a client’s birthday party.”
Agent Carlson glanced over at Kevin, eyebrows raised. “Okay. That’s not a lot of time. Let me get started on this. I’ll need approval for international travel, and to bring a few more agents with me. We’ll also need to work together to go over the logistics. Once I confirm the go-ahead, we will accompany you on the tour. The best approach is to integrate us into personal security team.”
“Just so we’re on the same page with the roles,” Kevin explained. “Concert tour security has a few layers. Think of it as a large onion. On the outside is the public space, like the streets outside a stadium. That security is taken care of by local authorities, and in many cases, they work with the stadium owner, to cover building security. As we get inside the event location, the stadium would also provide an extra layer of stage security. This keeps the crew and performers away from the audience. The stadium would take care of that too. And then at the innermost layer is personal security. This is the team that protects the performer, the band, and this is where Ms. Baker’s team comes in.”
“Perfect. We’re on the same page. So we’ll work primarily as the personal security team, but will liaise with stadium security and local police at each location as we assess the broader threat. That way, our presence will enhance both layers of protection while we continue to investigate. How does that sound?”
Kevin nodded his agreement. I had known him long enough to see he was satisfied about something. He looked directly at Amanda. By the sounds of Agent Carlson’s plan, they had effectively eliminated the need for her services. Shit. After all that work I did to line this up, it looked like it was over before it started. I was pissed at the thought of losing her this quickly. Especially after last night.
Amanda’s hand tensed up on my forearm before she pulled it back into her lap. “Just so I’m clear, gentlemen, can you clarify what my role will be now? My understanding up to when I signed the contract was my team would protect Johnny.”
I could tell she was concerned. And angry. She was right to feel that way, and I silently cheered her on. I had to find a way to keep her close.
Kevin spoke first. “Well, there is an early termination clause. But not to worry. You’ll still be compensated for your time here. There’s also a clause laying out the percentage you’ll receive from the overall contract total.”
Amanda clenched her jaw as her anger seemed to dominate her reaction. Her fury radiated through to me.
“Actually,” Agent Carlson began, “I was going to propose that Ms. Baker continue to provide personal security as planned. We may not have enough resources to assign to this case. I won’t know until I confirm with my superiors. It makes sense to integrate whatever number of FBI agents I can pull together into her team. And there’s one more thing I’d like to suggest…”
Kevin did not look pleased at the agent’s hesitation. “And what’s that?”
“To specifically keep Ms. Baker as close to Mr. Venom as possible.”
“What?” Kevin said in a raised voice. “Why?”
“It may help to portray her as member of Johnny’s entourage, possibly someone he’s dating. This could draw out the unsub if they believe Ms. Baker is an obstacle to keeping Johnny all to themselves.”