Stacy knows me so well. I knew for years he has been my best friend but I never realized he saw everything that I didn’t even speak. I don’t talk about men desiring me because I don’t want it. I’m afraid, so afraid. Most twenty four-year-old women have experienced a lot in the bedroom by now. I haven’t. Most of them have been loved and cherished. Chris never did that for me. He said he loved me and I like him a lot. But it wasn’t love not even from him. If it was he wouldn’t have cheated. Which looking back now I am sure he did the entire time we were together.
I gaze over and forget we are having this conversation with asshole Johnathan in the room. But hey it’s not like it matters. He’s already heard the panty story. So most of the cats already out of the bag.
“You think I’m beautiful Stacy because you’re biased. But I’m not your type. So my beautiful to you is like a sisters. I think my mom’s beautiful because she’s my mom. But is she gorgeous? No, but she is to me because she is my mom and I know her inside and out. I understand the clothes because you know what you’re right. I don’t feel sexy. I don’t want to. You think it’s easy having one partner in my entire life and that same man cheats on me? That is not going to open me up willingly to others. I’m not a groupie whore who wears short skirts and low cut tops. Do I have the assets? Yes, I know I have a big butt and huge boobs for my size.”
He turns and watches me talk and I pivot so I can see both men at the same time. Johnathan’s face is nearly priceless. Yep, he knows my secrets. Might as well find them out now. I’ll be dealing with him for a long time if Stacy keeps me around.
“So now you know Johnathan. I guess that’ll give you more shit to torment me about. Sorry I don’t want to get fucked and used like the whores you grace your bed with. I’m fucked up in other ways I suppose. So yeah I’ve been cheated on by the only man I have ever slept with.” I express. Holding my head high. I can’t be a weakling around him. I have to try and be strong. Even though inside I just want to cry and have Stacy hold me and tell me everything’s going to be alright. And he’d do that too.
He holds his hands up, surrendering defeat. “I promise short stack… er…um…Emily. I won’t let anything you discuss leave this room. I maybe an asshole but I’m not that big of one. And I think whoever the dick is that cheated on you is obviously an idiot.”
“Thanks Johnathan.” I smile at him. It looks sad I’m sure, but it’s the best I can conjure up now.
“Eh…. Hem... Best friend over here not done talking.” Stacy chimes in rather sarcastically pointing his fingers animatedly at himself. I giggle and then Johnathan joins in and the whole room breaks out into full on laughter. Man, it feels good to laugh after such an emotional day and it’s just past dinnertime.
Chapter Six
The rest of the night before I spent with Stacy eating a butt load of room service in my suite which turns out is even nicer than his room. Yah me! Not sure how I lucked out and he didn’t. Not that it matters anyhow. Johnathan left shortly after the little in room convo and never did talk to me about what he came to discuss. I think I scared him off with the whole ‘yep I’ve only have one sex partner’ thing.
Shit, fifty years ago tons of people could say by the time they die they’ve only had a few partners. Not nowadays. In the group of people I personally know fifteen seems to be the going number and most of my friends are less than forty years old. So they have plenty of years left to rack up their bed notches. My roommate Joe I know has slept with at least twelve women and Stacy I couldn’t even guess and neither can he. I know because I stupidly asked once. I know all the band members are male whores or have been one time or another. Even sweet and sexy Keith.
I woke up early thanks to the alarm clock that Stacy set without my knowledge. Gotta love him. The band is playing tonight at an indoor concert hall. Air-conditioning sounds so wonderful especially being in Arizona in the middle of the summer. And here I thought Vegas was bad. Silly me.
Now I am standing in a large Macy’s department store that’s attached to a two-story mall with my best friend and Johnathan the bands lead singer. Why in the world they both deemed it necessary to tag along to find clothes and underwear shop is beyond me. Men and shopping don’t usually mix and I know Stacy hates to shop. At least for normal clothes. Lingerie on the other hand I am sure he could do all-day long as long as his leggy blondes were the ones modeling for him.
We were getting ready to leave with James the bodyguard when Johnathan slipped into the back of the tinted Mercedes with us incognito. Not that, that’s going to do much good. Fans knowing he’s in town, has sleeves of tattoos visible and stands as tall as a giant and almost as wide as one. He stands out in a crowd. And that’s putting it mildly. But ever since the whole I’m-not-a-whore reveal he’s been super cool. Maybe too cool. Or maybe he’s coming down off of something like alcohol, drugs or maybe sex. Or possibly a combo of them. Not that it matters one-way or another to me. As long as he keeps his womanizing ways to himself I’m great.
I slip into a dressing room my arms are piled full of clothes. I’d probably never think to try on. But thanks to Stacy and some from Johnathan I have been forced to try on a plethora of colorful items. Including miniskirts, short booty shorts and low cut tops. Not dropping low cut but too low for my standards.
I try on the entire lot and only decide on keeping six items. I refused to even show the men. I hate doing that. When you go shopping who cares what others think? It’s about how the clothes make you look and feel to yourself. And to me those six items look decent. Plus they will keep Stacy happy because they mesh with the whole rock star theme I’ve got going. Do I like it? No. But will I do it? Yes. I want to keep my job and most of all I want to keep my best friend from hating me or his job because I look like an accountant. Guess it’s a good thing I have tattoos that should help authenticate the style I’m going for. Stacy has no tattoos. He’s a pretty boy who hates needles. Yet, it’s important for me to look the part. I think I should seriously consider pressing the need for him to get a visual tattoo. Gotta look the part and all. And rocking alongside the number one band in the world is a large pair of shoes to fill.
“Emily!” I hear Stacy yell into the woman’s dressing room. “Emily!”
“What?!” I yell pulling off the last stitch of clothes before wearing the only other dress I have left, the tight black one that should be meant for cocktail hour instead of midmorning shopping. At least Stacy was nice enough to buy me some Welcome to Tucson undies in souvenir shop close to our hotel so I didn’t have to go commando today.
“I need to send Johnathan in there with you.” He whispers outside my dressing room door. I guess he came in without being invited. I’m alone, so it’s not a big deal.
“Why?”
“There’s like ten people who’ve noticed him. I think. I need to get him out of the line of sight before they confirm it and we have a massive mob to contain. Twitters a bitch. I’ve already spoken to Macy’s before we got here to let them know we were coming. But I don’t think two measly security guards can handle a mob of horny women.”
I sigh loudly so Stacy knows I am so not on board with this plan. He’s the manager so I leave it go. “Fine.” I slump even though I know he can’t see me.
“Yo J come.” I hear him say. “Em you gotta open up and let him in with you.”
I unlock the dressing room door and move to the side to allow the giant to join me. Not quite sure how I can fit into a space this small with him but I guess we have no choice but to manage. I wish they had a handicap dressing room nearby but there isn’t.
He slides in beside me and shuts the door and locks it. God we were close, really close together. My breasts are brushing against his stomach close.
“Sorry.” He whispers rather sweetly. Looking directly into my eyes and not at my breasts that are conveniently brushing up against him time to time.
“It’s okay.” I smile and let out a nervous laugh. And for once I mean it. I kind of feel bad for
the guy. Can’t even go out in public without getting mobbed. That’s a pretty shitty existence even with the fame. Not to be able to walk down to a coffee shop without having someone notice and ask for an autograph or picture, or worse.
We stand staring into each other’s eyes. I can stop looking into his and I think he feels the same. Man is it getting hot in here or what? My hands are clammy I wipe them on my black dress.
“Hey Em.” I hear Stacy say from right outside the dressing room door.
“Yeah?”
“Two things. One- Don’t panic there is a group of people searching the store for Johnathan. But don’t you worry I have it covered. And two- I can’t stand around here twiddling my thumbs it’s boring and obvious. And we can’t leave until you have clothes. So hand over the ones you have decided to keep and I’ll bring some in for you to try on.”
“Um…. That’s not possible Stace.”
“What? Why?” he whispers.
“Because it’s cramped in here. Tell me why he doesn’t go in the bathroom to hide or in another stall?”
“He has to stay in there with you. For one the bathroom is too accessible and two if he goes into another dressing room and a person comes in and knocks he can’t very well talk can he? But if they knock on your door you can and they’ll be none the wiser.”
I’d hate to admit it but he’s got a good point. This is the only real way without making a giant scene that will be posted to the internet along with me punching Johnathan in the nose. Which of course hit the news big time, even on fox. A few pictures were captured via cell phones and tons of captions about it being a lover’s quarrel or a one-night stand gone awry. Nothing about the real truth that he was an asshole and I socked him a good one for it.
“Hey J you good?” Stacy asks.
“Yep.” He whispers.
I can feel my back starting to get warm. I will never look at dressing room stalls the same again. It’s hard not to stare at a six-five giant wearing a plain white t-shirt, khaki cargo shorts, a blue bandana on his head and aviators hanging into the top of his shirt. Not very good on the incognito part but bonus points on the sexiness. The bandana is hot on him.
“What are you staring at?” he raises an eyebrow playfully and a small naughty smile creeps out of the corners of his big juicy lips.
“Oh stop. You already know you’re hot. Woman tell you that all the time.” I blush. I don’t mean to. But I can’t help it. It’s hot and we have been pinned together for too long. What has it been eight hours? Well probably ten minutes but it feels like way longer.
“Yes, but you never tell me that.” He whispers his voice is dark and sexy. Those few words I don’t know why but I get instantly warm in my belly and my toes curl. Force myself to close my eyes and shake my head to clear it.
“Wh…” my voice cracks. I clear my throat. “Why does it matter what I think?” I finally make out. How freaking embarrassing.
“Because you’re my short stack.” He says.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m HIS short stack? Is that a good thing? It doesn’t sound bad. But god he is so infuriating most of the time. Why can’t he just say what he means like usual?
“What’s that mean?” Fine, I let it out and ask. I have to know.
“Hey Em, I have some panties and stuff out here I selected for you. I’m gonna toss them over. Take a look and pick what you want to keep and what you don’t leave on the floor.” Stacy says from the other side of the door. Talk about bad timing and I sure as hell don’t want to be picking out panties in front of the hottest rock star in the world. According to Rolling Stone and People magazines. That is.
“Fine.” I hiss under my breath frustrated.
Johnathan reaches over-the-top of the dressing room wall and snatches the giant stack of undergarments from Stacy. Holy shit! Could this be any weirder? Johnathan gives me this look, it’s so naughty and seductive but sweet at the same time. God he’s gorgeous. No wonder women drop their panties for him all the time. And I am standing here letting him pick them out with me. I am sure a lot of females would pay good money for this close encounter. I’d just pay good money to get out of it.
One by one he hands me a pair by pair. And one by one my face gets redder and redder. Talk about humiliating.
“I’ve taken off a lot of women’s panties but I’ve never bought a pair.” He winks at me.
I think I just came in my panties. Oh wait no I didn’t but I’m wet as hell. Jesus this is so not good. I am supposed to loathe this man. He is a womanizing dick wad. I’m not supposed to want to fuck him in a dressing room of a Macy’s but do. I inhale deeply to calm my nerves and wouldn’t ya know it I breathe him in even more. Shit! It’s bad enough I get a whiff of his delectable mind fucking panty dropping scent. But I am a stupid ass and just inhaled a bunch of it. I’m on a serious Johnathan lead singer of Stricken high. I’m in so much trouble.
My mouth is so dry. It feels like I drank a bottle of sand.
“I guess there’s a first time for everything.” I joke.
It’s not a good one but it’s all I’ve got. I have to get out of this damn dressing room. I can’t take it anymore. My clit is throbbing to be touched, my hands are clammy, my mouth is dry, and my breasts ache to be played with. No man has ever made me want him this bad before. Mr. Sex on a stick doesn’t even have to try. It’s one damn glance with those beautiful green eyes and I’m done for. What the hell is wrong with me? Seriously.
“Stacy.” My voice cracks. “Stacy” I call again swallowing hard, looking up into the giant’s big green eyes. But Stacy’s nowhere to be found.
Johnathan’s been leaning against the wall the entire time well as much as he can anyhow. But I can feel him shifting. Any minute and I might just drop to my knees and take him into my mouth. Oh god, I’ve never even wanted to do that before. I am sick in this head. This is so wrong. This is what he wants. Did he want this to happen? Of course he did. He’s a damn male whore rock and roll singer. Duh Emily. Get a grip and suck it up. It’ll be over soon.
I glance down and I can feel his eyes searing through me. Oh no he’s shifting again. I look back up and he’s inches from my face. My heart leaps into my throat. My arousal is pooling in my panties. I pray that he can’t smell it. It’s sweet and I know the smell and I can smell it. Oh god this can’t be happening. He places both of his big hands on either side of the wall beside my head. Pinning me against his body. Full body touching full body.
“What’s wrong short stack?” he whispers. I can smell cigarettes and spearmint on his breath. Never thought I’d find that hot. But, oh I do! He’s even hotter up close. I could lick him if I wanted. I wonder what he tastes like. Stop thinking that!
“Nothing.” I blurt out. I am lying. I know and he knows it.
He rubs his pelvis against me in circles and Wow! I can feel an erection in his shorts and it’s huge. Well I would call it that. Not sure what seasoned women would say.
“What do you want Johnathan?” I ask. And surprise myself that I actual sound halfway normal. Not horny or dry mouthed at all. This is good!
“You know what I want.” He purrs, it sounds so good to my ears.
If I move my hands I could reach down and cup his cock in them. But I won’t and I can’t. It’s wrong so wrong on a million different levels. Why can’t I just want to fuck a normal guy? Not a hot rock star. This is terrible.
“Um… nope… no I don’t… If you want to know the weather I am sure I can arrange that.” I smile or try to. But I know it comes out all distorted. I’m so nervous. Silky sweat is dripping down the back of my neck.
“How about the weather between your legs? You smell so good…. Mmmmm” He inhales.
Oh shit! I knew he could smell me. I could smell me. This is the most embarrassing day of my life. I throw my hands over my face. I’m so ashamed. I pray- Please god get me out of this mess. Make this stop. I promise I’ll never talk to him again. Just get him away from me. I can’t have sex with hi
m. It’s wrong. Please god!
“I can’t do what you want me to do.” I state. Feeling a little less drawn to him. Maybe my prayers worked for once.
“I don’t want to fuck you if that’s what you think short stack.”
“That’s exactly what I think.” I blurt. Oh thank you Jesus my sassiness is back. Oh how I’ve missed it!
“Nope.” He pushes back from the sides of the wall and moves as far away from me as he can which still leaves us touching in some ways but I feel a lot better and less inclined to do some naughty things. He looks sad all of a sudden. His fuck me face is gone. But I can still see the outline of a very hard very big boner in his shorts.
“I don’t want to fuck you. That’s not what this is.” He says motioning his finger back and forth between me and him.
“Then what is it?” I gulp and run my hands nervously through my hair, staring at the ground.
“Hey… Hey guys.” I hear Stacy say on the other side of the door.
“What?” Johnathan groans.
“Sorry. Open up, the coast is clear. Grab your stuff Em, I’ll pay for it and meet you out in the car.”
I open the door and exit first and Johnathan follows a few feet behind. I dump my clothes in Stacy’s arms. I am kind of relieved to be out of that space. Although I am so juiced up on natural horny pills by the name of Johnathan that I think I could go for an orgasm or two or five or a hundred.
I leave and I sit in the front of the car away from Johnathan. When Stacy gets in he seems a little taken back by the seating arrangement. I lay my head back against the seat and let James drive us back to the hotel. I don’t speak another word.
Chapter Seven
The rest of the day went by rather quickly. Stacy and the boys left to set up with the roadies and do sound check. Leaving me in the hotel all by my lonesome. I took a long shower which lasted forever thanks to the hotels never ending hot water supply. I spent time painting my nails hot pink, both my fingers and toes. Normally I’m a taupe or light pink enthusiast but I went hot pink for ‘my image’. Stupid? Yes. But it’s part of the job description apparently. I pampered myself in room of course. I don’t have the money to spend on spa treatments although admittedly I’d love to be able to. With my new income significantly less than my previous job I have to tighten up my belt. The record label Magic Records are the ones who signed Stricken. They are also the ones who sign all of our paychecks. Even though I was dealing with a boss who tried to flirt with me every chance he got on my last job. I still made double what I do now. Which sucks but some money is better than no money at all. My lack of funds now are partially due to the fact that I wasn’t a planned employee. I wasn’t sought out. I think Magic records or the hot blonde Jasmine that Stacy works hand in hand with on the corporate side of things decided to do him a favor. All because I am sure they’ve either fucked like rabbits before or she has every intention of doing so in the future. Either way I don’t care because I am grateful for the money and opportunity to spend weeks exploring a new job with the greatest guy ever. Stacy my best friend.
Stricken Desire Page 5