by Katie Ford
“Yeah,” came that low voice. “We might as well enjoy her while we can. It fucking sucks but what can you do? She deserves better.”
And with that, it was decided. We were gonna love our girl a couple more times, but it was only temporary.
Because soon enough, Katy would have to go … taking our hearts with her.
CHAPTER NINE
Katy
Was Helena gonna ask me why I wanted it?
I checked my hair and face in the mirror one more time before sitting down in front of the open laptop. According to the clock, it was exactly six thirty when FaceTime chimed.
Okay. Here we go...
With butterflies in my belly, I answered the FaceTime call and forced myself to sit still, a professional smile in place. The sight of Helena's stern face always made me uncomfortable. She looked just as uptight as the first time, mouth pursed into a judgmental pout. A strong burgundy lip and thick mascara were heavy, but professional. The woman briefly glanced at her watch before looking at me through the screen.
“Good evening, Katy.”
I stammered out a greeting and smoothed my damp hands down my thighs.
Can she tell? Does she know that I had sex with the band? That I let them all touch me?
“How’s it going?” I tried in a chirpy voice like nothing was wrong.
It felt like the stern woman was dissecting me through the screen. She had to know. There was no other reason for her to stare, eyes calculating and crafty.
She knows…or does she?
I took a deep breath.
“Did you know...? I-I mean…have you heard—” I stammered, unable to finish. Never had a female been so intimidating. Women were supposed to be easier to talk to, not harder. I swallowed the thick lump in my throat, past the embarrassment, and tried again. “Did you know that the men wanted...?”
I still couldn’t say the words. We sat in silence until Helena steered the conversation in the right direction.
Her expression didn't change. The woman looked cool and calm, as my temperature rose, palms damp and clammy.
“I hired you because you’re right for the job,” Helena stated neutrally. “Why? Do you have concerns?”
Not knowing what to say, I hesitated.
Does she know I was banging all three guys just a few hours ago? Did she set all this up?
In the end, it didn't matter though. What the woman knew was irrelevant. I asked her to call me for one reason and one reason alone. It was time to ask.
“I need birth control,” I said quickly, cursing my stutter. “I really need it, ASAP. Could you help me make a doctor’s appointment?” My voice finished on a whisper, barely audible.
Because Helena made me more nervous than Alpha Prime. When it came down to it, she was the one that would fire me if I wasn’t right for the job. The guys wanted to keep me around for obvious reasons.
Because it’s been a month since I started work. All three members of the band have been with me constantly, making me scream and writhe with pleasure. I have sex with each and every one of them at least once each day, if not more, taking them one on one, two on one, even three on one. And it’d been long enough that I was starting to worry about the risks. Getting pregnant wasn’t an option—especially not during the tour.
As soon as I finished speaking, Helena swung into motion.
“I can do more than that,” she stated.
I watched her fumble around her desk. Finally, she opened a drawer and held out a green, plastic sleeve. What was that? Coolly, the woman ran her finger along the side, sliding out an aluminum casing with plastic blisters full of tiny, pink pills.
“Are those for me?” I asked, confusedly. “Are those birth control pills?”
“Yes,” the middle-aged woman confirmed. “I'm going to overnight these to you at the hotel. You should get them the day before you leave Los Angeles. Until then, stay safe. You can use your business phone to find a drugstore that carries condoms if it’s urgent.”
I nodded, pathetically grateful. “Thank you.”
I couldn’t see myself picking up condoms, but maybe the guys and I could control ourselves for the rest of the evening.
Yeah, right.
Helena was silent for a moment, as though waiting for me to say more. But when nothing sounded, the woman spoke.
“If that's all, I have another appointment,” she said, face totally expressionless. “I really can’t be late to this one.”
“Oh, of course. I'm sorry,” was my apology, cheeks burning hot again. “Thank you again. I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me.”
“Of course,” Helena said.
And then she was gone.
I closed the laptop and slumped in the chair in front of the hotel desk. Asking Helena for birth control had gone better than I thought it would, but my heart still beat heavily, thumping with adrenaline.
Any encounter with that woman made me nervous.
But the conversation had worked. I didn't have to worry about birth control anymore. Fortunately, there was no one for me to have sex with at the moment. The guys were doing an interview for a radio talk show and then they were supposed to have dinner together. It was going to be just the three of them.
They’ll want to be with you when they come back, the voice in my head whispered.
And shamefully, I wanted them too. My heart raced, pulse beating like a butterfly.
Wait a minute. Helena did know.
She suspected that I would become Alpha Prime’s plaything, at the very least. Why would an employer provide birth control otherwise? No questions asked?
But maybe it was because I was on tour. Maybe she thought I was sleeping with some random stranger I’d met along the way?
My eyes stared at the top of the closed computer. Something was wrong with the situation. Holding my breath, I waited to feel some sort of outrage or anger. Hiring me to be their plaything was sick. It was unprofessional. It should have made me furious.
Yet, there was nothing. My soul remained still and unperturbed. If anything, I felt like I should be grateful to her.
Because my life was exciting for the first time. Sleeping with three hot rock stars was pure bliss. I loved being with Trent, Nick and Mason. I loved having them inside me, savoring passionate kisses as male seed overflowed my body.
And after a lifetime of being repressed and ignored, I couldn’t get enough of the limelight. Alpha males don’t go after girls like me, but these three couldn’t get enough. And they cared about me too, often calling to make sure I was okay when they weren’t around.
Why would they do that?
Was it an act?
Couldn’t be. The men didn’t owe me anything.
And yet, it felt amazing. It was more than I had ever had before. Darren was selfish and spoiled, a teen boy by comparison.
Plus, being with the alphas has helped grow my confidence. I was already wearing nicer clothes instead of loose, baggy attire. Being bigger made me think I had to hide my figure in XXL t-shirts and men’s sweats non-stop.
But the guys got me thinking otherwise. They liked me sexy, in spandex and dresses that hugged my curves. With their support, I was dressing classier, more expensive, unafraid to show off my full figure.
Confidence looks good.
Because the men made me feel desirable and cherished all the time. Not just when we were in bed, but even when were gathered in the dressing room, laughing together, or playing scrabble on the private plane.
Nick, Mason and Trent cared about me. I could feel it emanating from those big forms, those blue eyes that followed my every move.
And even though I knew it was dangerous … all I wanted was more.
CHAPTER TEN
Nick
“Alpha Prime!”
“Mason!”
“Alpha Prime!”
“Nick!”
“Trent! Trent! Trent!”
The San Francisco crowd was hot tonight. They screamed, tossing l
ingerie and showing off fake-looking tits. Some of them even had butt implants. I wasn’t interested, though.
Katy was for me. Real. Luscious. Curvy and soft.
Her thick sweetness was the perfect fit for me. I couldn’t stop thinking about that beautiful female form.
At the front of the stage, Trent acted out the rock god shtick. He flexed his muscles and made sexy eyes at the chicks who’d eat him alive if they got half the chance. The guy was on top of the world.
“This song,” he shouted into the mic, gripping it with both hands, his white teeth flashing. Mason and I caught his eye. “This next song is for a special girl. Kitty-Kat, you put the purr in perfect.” The asshole grinned at his bad joke.
Half of the crowd was angry, hissing and booing at us. If the name was theirs, they would have been fine with it. The other half cooed “awwwww!” in unison.
Behind me, Mason roared with laughter, banging on his cymbals.
“Hell, yeah!” Trent encouraged him. “Gimme a drum fill, Mace!”
I closed my eyes as Mason fulfilled his request. The toms were far too loud. My head had been pounding since the opening band took stage.
After the fill, Mason hit the cymbal and exclaimed, “One, two, three, four!”
Douchebags.
The new song started, “Katy’s Ballad,” and damn if it wasn’t perfect for our sweet girl. Even though my head hurt, I had to give Trent credit for writing the tune.
It started off sweet and soft then growled to a wild, climax-inducing finish—just like our Katy.
The bass part of the song was hot like fire. My fingers throbbed as I raked them across the strings. It was the perfect riff for the song. Rivers of sweat ran down my rock hard chest and tight abs as I drowned out the crowd of women to focus on one girl in particular.
Katy. Kitty-Kat. Sweet and soft and so entrancing.
The chorus of her song growled out of my throat. It had been a long time since a song spoke to me the way “Katy’s Ballad” did. Inside my thin jeans, my balls were sweaty and felt heavy, full of hot jizz. Katy had sucked me off just before the show started but I still couldn’t help but get hard thinking about her.
She sucked or fucked all three of us. Overachieving Trent got both her mouth and her pussy, though.
“Can we make this a tradition?” Mason had asked earlier in the evening. “We’ll fuck Katy before and after every show. Fill up her hungry slit with our big dicks and make her scream our names just like the fans who waited for us to come—ha ha, get it?—onstage.”
I nodded in agreement, although it was a lame joke. So did Trent.
Her pussy made a good bed-time snack too. At that thought, my teeth flashed at the crowd and the women screamed.
If only I could hear her scream right now.
Plugging her pussy, her face, and that sweet ass made me feel like a god—on top of the whole world. Other feelings were gnawing at me. Scary feelings.
I wanted to know Katy—and not just sexually.
What does she like to eat? Does she even like Alpha Prime’s music? What did she think about before she goes to bed every night?
The girl was always down for whatever we wanted, but her kindness was even better. She actually cared about me and about the band.
If somebody asked her which one of us was her favorite I bet she would say some sweet and corny shit like “Mason and Trent and Nick, all three are tied.”
Our girl.
My bass guitar ripped through the song and I growled into the mic. “On your knees, baby. For me, baby! I want you, baby. Only you!”
The lyrics to the song were raw and desperate—just like what we all felt for our Kitty-Kat.
“Nick! I wanna have your baby!”
A crazed chick suddenly came out of nowhere.
Screaming like mad, she scrambled onto the stage. Her pussy was wide open and naked, no panties in sight under her tiny skirt. The unwelcome redhead was headed right for me.
Where the fuck was our security? What were we paying them for?
“Nick! I want you soooo bad!”
Running straight at me, she managed to lift up her shirt to flash her tits and yank up her skirt while booking it like a deranged rabbit. Rumpled clothes fell around the woman’s narrow waist. The rest of her was butt naked.
“We got you on an airplane, loving you like a hurricane!” Trent sang. “Yeah yeah yeah, you’re drivin' me insane!”
The crazy girl wasn’t having it though.
“I want you!” she screamed, the whites of her eyes showing. “Pick me, Nick! Pick me!”
Like she stands a chance. Not with Katy around.
Still singing, I jumped to get out of her way. Finally, a security guy flew out of the wings. He seized the female as she screeched and kicked in an attempt to get away.
Finally. How the hell did she even get up here anyway?
I already knew the answer to my own question because the security was hired muscle, but a lot of them liked to watch our concerts as well. Or they got carried away, watching the women lose their shit. Not a good combination—especially not when we packed every venue.
Girls everywhere. Endless unwanted panties and pussy.
From all the way behind me, Mason’s loud laugh rang out.
Fucking douchebag.
Unlike Trent and myself, Mason was never attacked by dick-hungry chicks. He was tucked safely behind his drum kit.
I scowled at the crowd of desperate females.
Do it again, ladies. Dare you.
The chorus to Katy’s song came back up. “On your knees, baby. For me, baby! I want you, baby. Only you!” I ignored the screaming faces and sang it like a love ballad, imbuing the words with genuine emotion.
Was Katy in the wings listening? Did she watch us strutting across the stage, thinking and singing about her?
If only that sweet female were in front of me now.
“Loving you like a hurricane!” Trent harmonized. “Loving, loving, loving.”
Instantly, the thought of our beautiful brunette had me hard as a rock. With every prowling step, the stage lights burned down on my naked chest and back as sweat ran down my hard muscles.
This show needs to end. Then we can fuck our Katy.
The three of us were killing it, despite my headache.
I couldn't stop thinking about our Kitty-Kat, though.
For a moment, it was like we weren’t on stage at all. Instead, Alpha Prime was back in our hotel room. Katy on her knees, her big brown eyes dark with emotion.
“Oh yes Mason!” she’d murmured, lips trembling. “Yes, yes, yes.”
But reality intruded then, my dream disappearing into thin air.
“Fuck me, Nick!” someone in the crowd screamed, bringing me back to reality. “Awwwoooo!”
On the main mic, Trent was doing his usual, but he was distracted too. Perhaps he couldn’t say it out loud while performing anything other than “Katy’s Ballad,” but the man could think, and his eyes didn’t lie. He was obsessed with our sweet girl.
Mason wasn't subtle at all. All night he'd been substituting Katy's name into the songs while bashing away at the drums. Most of our music was about anonymous girls, making it appeal to our main audience. But Mason was making everything about the eighteen-year-old princess in his head.
Good thinking, bud.
Finally, the concert ended. The fans screamed, begging us for an encore, per usual. It didn’t matter, though. We were done, and they would not be getting any kind of bonus.
With sweat pouring down my back and my shaft half-hard from anticipation of seeing Katy, I jogged with the guys off the stage and toward the dressing room.
The brunette would be there. She had to be.
“That girl better be waiting for us,” Trent growled. “We told her to.”
“She’s paid to wait. I can’t imagine she’ll go too far,” Mason said. He rattled his drumsticks against the block wall as we walked down the hallway. “If she does, she’ll come
back.”
I nodded. “She’ll be there.”
Trent’s hunger was tangible, a throbbing beat in the air, making the environment vibrate. We stepped over lights and equipment, rushing in the direction the stadium assistant had showed us. As usual, a bunch of half-naked chicks rushed out towards the band, scurrying down the corridor like ants. The security guys did their jobs for once and kept them away.
“Can’t wait,” Trent growled, eyes intent. “Shit, it’s been so long.”
“Chill, man.” I bumped his shoulder and shoved him aside to get in front. “She's our assistant, not some random chick.”
“I don't mean it that way and you know it,” he growled back at me. “She’s special. That’s why I want her.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but was interrupted.
“Out of the way, fellas!” Mason shoved his way between us, stopping the spat before it even happened.
Like an Alpha Prime PR guru, he waved and pinched the asses of the screaming groupies waiting to ambush us. Girls cried after him. Even though he was pandering to the audience, he didn’t stop his pace until he got to the dressing room. Mason was a man on a mission. He only beat me and Trent to it by a couple of seconds, most likely in an effort to escape his duty as the band ass-grabber.