by Lexxi Chase
Katelyn gulped and swallowed her words. But her anger boiled just beneath the surface.
“Jake’s not coming,” Amanda hissed.
At first her usually forward assistant had no response.
“It’s probably for the better,” she finally said.
“Oh yeah?”
“Well yes, Amanda. I mean with Rachel and Wade coming and Jake so pissed about Wade even before Wade challenged him, and you calling for a damn showdown, shit, it was likely to be a fuckin’ bloodbath.”
“You simpering gutless bitch!”
Amanda slapped her. Hard. And sent her flying backwards across the kitchen. She landed sprawled awkwardly on her side. Struggling with her emotions, with her anger and pent up rage erupting to the surface, Katelyn fumbled to a sitting position. Afraid what she’d do if she stood. Hating herself for it but remaining subdued on the floor. Like a vanquished, beaten dog.
“Fucking idiot...loser,” Amanda turned and, drink still clutched in her hand, stumbled towards the stairs.
Jesus, where’s Wade, she thought, but then quickly corrected herself. Like he’s any better. And stewed and agonized over Brittney once again, even though it was so, so long ago.
“Where the fuck are you Wade?” she screamed, stumbling carelessly up the stairs.
Now standing tall in the kitchen, Katelyn finally lost control.
“Don’t worry Amanda. I’m sure even Wade will bend over for Jake if you tell him to!”
But her mini revolt fell on deaf ears. Lost in her own shroud of misery, Amanda careened down the hall, burst into her bedroom and, tossing her drink absently on the floor, snuggled up to a startled but very welcoming Morocco.
Shortly after, on the edge of slumber, Amanda wrestled awake and suddenly raised her head. Her favorite man had moved and was sitting alert at the window, his daunting silhouette and large, impressive head illuminated mutedly in the darkness by the moonlight and scattering of stars.
Morocco chuffed softly, anxiously, and parted the delicate sheer white curtains and blinds with his massive head. His soft, glowing amber eyes focused and fixed on nothing but a feeling far off in the distance. Even with his mistress settled and nearly sleeping, he sensed there were more distressing things on the horizon, more unsettling and dangerous things to come.
***
Misty sat up slowly from where she lay splayed at the foot of Jake’s bed. Still sweating, exhausted and heated, she glanced at Jake sprawled leisurely, still naked, by the headboard. She couldn’t get over how fantastic he looked, how gorgeous and inviting and virile, and that he was really truly here. Sure beats watching his videos, she thought. And light years above just enjoying him on stage.
He hadn’t said much since he’d finished her, since he’d left his final obscene video message for Amanda telling her he wanted no part of the showdown. Misty sighed. In her heart she knew he really did and, like she’d incredibly had the guts to tell him, that he truly loved Amanda, longed for Amanda, and absolutely wouldn’t, couldn’t, settle for anyone else. At least I got to fuck him, she smiled, grateful for that one bit of treasure in the sea of pillage and waste surrounding Steel Demon and Jake.
“Guess ya got a lot to talk about now.”
Jake’s voice was cool, empty, and aware.
“What d’ya mean?” she asked, sitting straight up, brushing long blonde locks from her face.
Jake snickered, huffed.
“Ya know just what I mean,” he said.
He was casually lying on his back, his head propped on large, fluffy pillows stacked against the polished oak headboard. He ran his hands smoothly up and down his magnificently toned arms and his eyes were ice and fire. He stared at her evenly, unnervingly, and froze and waited for her response.
Shifting nervously, she said, “Oh, well...you mean about what happened, I mean here between us.”
He said nothing. His stare and subtly arched eyebrow said it all.
“Jake I...I don’t really talk much about personal things, private stuff with my friends.”
He laughed, brushed his long still damp hair from his own sweating face, and stood. Liquid fortification is what I need, he thought, and headed to the fridge and mini bar for a reinforcement. He didn’t offer her anything and she was too uncomfortable, afraid to ask.
Aware of her hungry eyes on him as he guzzled nearly half a can of cold, comforting Heineken in one tip of his hand, he felt empowered, satisfied that he’d done his job well. Decadent, unrivaled rock god for the groupie, this one named Misty, and untamable, unconquerable but ultimately desirable master for his ex-girlfriend, this one named Amanda. The only ex that really mattered. He shuddered and rebelled but couldn’t erase the thought.
“Time to go,” he turned and looked at Misty.
Her look of disbelief surprised him, although he’d seen it in countless eyes before.
“Oh,” she said but didn’t move.
“Like now,” he added, more than a touch of irritation in his tone.
Did she really think he was going to let her stay, under the circumstances?
She stood slowly, glanced around the room for her clothes, and finally appeasing, asked him quietly, “Can I have just a few minutes to clean up?”
It was the least he could do. Jake nodded resolutely towards the bathroom. Watched her scurry in and downed almost the rest of his beer before following her and stopping at the open bathroom door, leaning leisurely on the door frame. She didn’t notice him at first, bent over, wet washcloth in hand, earnestly cleaning her pussy and then holding the cloth under the running water again. He shifted and she startled, eyeing him in the mirror as he smirked behind her.
“Got what ya came for? Taking that home with you as a souvenir?”
He’d had weirder shit happen. In Tacoma, a few years ago, he’d wrestled scissors from a groupie’s hand after startling awake to find her poised to snip a lock of hair from his head. Sluts had stolen his underwear, his used napkins after dinner and one had even made off with a relatively expensive pair of his sunglasses.
Remarkably, no one had stolen any of his jewelry, no bracelets, chains, necklaces, rings or even earrings had ever gone missing. His current watch, an HYT Gotham retailing for $80,000 U.S., had so far fared equally well, always remaining on the nightstand or in his suitcase when he removed it.
“Jesus Jake, d’ya think I’m some sorta weirdo?” Misty laughed, wringing out the washcloth before wiping her pussy once again.
Jake smirked, raised his arm leisurely and stretched out languidly against the door frame. His long, straight brown hair cascaded across his shoulders, sensuously down his back and, glancing in the mirror, Misty sighed as his muscles flexed and rippled in his arms and across his firm chest.
“Want some help?” Jake whispered, his eyes alight with familiarity and desire.
Misty turned determinedly to face him.
“Oh, you mean I don’t have to leave...like now?” she giggled.
“You leave when I tell you to leave,” Jake rasped, but even in his tone’s rough edge there was hunger and a hint of compliance.
He blinked slowly, pushed himself back from the door frame and smoothed his wispy bangs from his deep green eyes. Maybe he didn’t have to ship this bitch off so quickly, God knows he even let the odd one here and there spend the night. Misty tossed the wet washcloth in the sink decisively, faced him and waited for his decision. Leaving nothing to chance, she whispered softly, smoothing her fingers sensually through her long silky blonde hair.
“Got more for me? I’m still your filthy, dirty girl.”
Jake smiled. He always had more than enough load for pussy that looked this fantastic, even for dang looking not as hot, and always for booty that looked even better. Amanda, bound, wet and horny, skirted his thoughts and he lunged forward, grabbing Misty by the hair. Bending her over, he propped her hands firmly on the sink’s vanity as he roughly kneed her legs apart. Tangling his fingers tighter in her hair, he lifted her head to view t
heir interaction in the clouding mirror before them.
“Like what ya see?” he crooned.
Blinking away the pain of Jake’s angry touch, his fingers tangled roughly in her disheveled hair, Misty looked at themselves in the unforgiving mirror and smiled. Jake, so ungodly enticing in his anger and pain, stood bristled up against her. She could feel his hard cock throbbing and the smoothness of his firm soft skin as he rubbed up behind her. His face was urgent, his eyes intense, and the muscles in his arms flexed tightly and pulsed as he firmly held her in place. His soft, tousled hair hung over her shoulders and onto her breasts as he leaned over her. This was exactly the way she’d longed to see herself.
“What else ya got for me bitch?” Jake rasped.
Stunned, she hesitated, her mind racing. Even as her mouth opened in silent acquiescence, she brainstormed. She’d already given him her all. What else was there?
“Anything. Anything you want,” she whispered breathlessly, hoping it was enough to appease him and hold his interest.
Jake’s mind raced too. What else could he have this bitch do? Sure, there was still the usual come in mouth, come on face, tied or shackled to the bed, maybe even straight sex or sodomy with a foreign object they’d yet to do. But strangely enough, he almost reluctantly admitted to himself, these so called perversions were beginning to bore him. At least when they weren’t part of fun and games with Amanda.
He groaned, lowered his head onto Misty’s shoulder as he struggled to cast off Amanda’s intrusion once again. His fingers eased their hold on Misty’s hair but she remained compliant, although confused at his sudden change in mood and demeanor.
“Jake?” she whispered searchingly.
“You’re not what I want,” he said, “but blow me anyway.”
He pushed himself backwards from leaning over her and stood, waiting. His raging hard on was gone, melted by his fresh vision of Amanda, and he wondered if he should even bother. One groupie was the same as another, some prettier than others, some immensely better in bed, but all cut from the same loin cloth in the end.
Anxious to fulfill the desires of their idols. Keen to top each other in their frenzied quest for touching fame and ultimate rock stardom. He’d long ago proven his unrivaled superiority in this realm of the music industry. He could make girls do absolutely anything. Even his fans, both female and male, were more fanatical, more loyal than the rest.
Misty, disappointed that he wasn’t ramming his dick up inside her once again, turned around and dropped obediently to her knees. What have I done, she wondered, to make him lose his hard on? Oh God, she prayed, expertly taking him in her mouth, please let him fuck me at least one more time before he throws me out.
Jake moaned softy, his body unable to ignore the immediate rush of pleasure and lust as Misty worked him. She swallowed deeply, taking all of him in her mouth, and sucked him like her life depended on it. Her self-esteem and ego did and, skillfully playing with his balls and massaging the ridge between them and his asshole, she lowered herself to the floor even further. Crawling underneath him between his legs, she eagerly licked around his butt, finally sliding her tongue inside.
“Fuck yeah...” Jake moaned gratefully, tossing his head back in exhilaration and closing his eyes.
He ran his hands crazily through his long tangling hair, raising his arms to the skies as she whispered sweetly, crouched beneath him, “Like that baby? I’m your super filthy slutty, dirty, dirty girl.”
She jerked him off as she rimmed him and the bathroom echoed with sloppy sounds of frenzied repetitive sliding and licking, moans and deep guttural groans and sighs.
“Please, please fuck me,” she begged just as Jake thought he was going to cum from her double assault.
“I want your cock inside me,” she moaned as she worked it and eagerly twisted her tongue in and out of his heated tight ass.
But, for the time being, he ignored her desperate pleas.
“More butt play,” he urged.
It was feeling too good and he wasn’t ready to end the game. Finally, with his ass hot and wet from her explorations and his dick hard and pulsing from her determined hand, he ordered her to stand bent over the sink with her legs spread wide.
“Oh God Jake, take me,” she begged and he dutifully rammed his dripping cock inside.
Watching him do her in the mirror, his gorgeous face tensed and consumed and silky bangs hanging wildly into his blazing eyes, Misty screamed, “Yeah, fuck me Jake. Fuck me hard. Rape my soaking pussy and make me cum.”
He pumped harder, faster, surprising even himself that he had so much left in him to give.
“Ahhh...yeah,” she urged, whispering, “I’m so fuckin’ hot and horny and ready for your big hard cock.”
His long soft hair, dampened by his sweat, slapped against her shoulders and down her back as he pumped. As each massive thrust brought him closer, her gutter talk spurred him on.
“Mmmm Jake...come on. Empty your load inside me. Fill me baby, fill me to the brim with your hot cum.”
“Ya wanna take it?” he screamed, panting, reeling from the waves of approaching orgasm as she tightened her muscles around his dick.
Then suddenly, he pulled out, shoving her roughly to her knees to face him on the floor. Tightly holding her head in place with his left hand, he shoved his dick in her mouth with his right and shot his surging stream deep down her throat, even as she gagged and winced from the shock of the onslaught.
An encore she hadn’t bargained for, but even so she adjusted quickly and moaned sweet and seductively as his warm, thick juices flowed richly down her throat. Like a good girl, Jake noted, she swallowed it all.
“There ya go, baby. Nectar of the god,” he laughed as he emptied the last of his load in her mouth before turning and walking away.
When Misty emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, Jake was once again lounging on the bed.
“Now you can go,” he said.
Giggling as she gathered her clothes and dressed, and confident with newfound courage garnered from their latest romp, Misty looked Jake squarely in the eye while fingering on her heels, and said, “You’re in Vegas tomorrow.”
“And...” he answered.
“I’m goin’ to the show. I already have passes. Can I see you again?”
“I’ll be there,” he laughed.
“I...I mean...after the show.”
“This encore wasn’t enough for you?”
Her mouth opened, her face dropped.
“I didn’t mean that! I had a fantastic time,” she asserted. “Just thought it would be nice to spend time with you again.”
“Hmmm.”
They stared at each other in silence for a few moments till Jake finally shrugged his shoulders and spoke.
“No idea. No clue,” he mumbled. “Like I said, I’ll be there. But I can’t make any promises for after the show.”
Jesus, they all wanted more and more. Much more than he could or was ever willing to give. Misty smiled disappointedly, sheepishly saying goodbye as she headed for the door.
But stopping midway, she turned and asked, “Can I at least kiss you goodbye? Even on the cheek or something?”
“Or something,” Jake mused.
She stood her ground until he smirked boyishly and raised his arms for a hug. This one has her charms, he mused and ruffled her hair playfully after she bolted across the room to kiss him demurely on the cheek.
“Thanks Jake, I had an amazing, amazing time!”
She stared at him.
“I had fun too,” he said.
Then, after clambering off the bed she was off and running, sashaying out the door and leaving Jake with only memories of her innocent allure and delectable, compliant body.
Memories are all I’ll have, Misty thought as she stepped into the elevator, unless I hit pay dirt again tomorrow night in Vegas. God, let me be so incredibly lucky, she prayed as she stepped out into the lobby and headed for the exit doors. No paparazzi to h
ound me leaving, she noted regrettably as she inconspicuously made her exit. That honor, and many more privileges, she knew, were reserved only for Amanda.
Still heated from Jake’s electric touch and bristling with anxiety over tomorrow, she slid carelessly into one of the waiting cabs by the hotel’s arched entryway.
“Where to, Miss?” the driver asked.
Inconceivably, she drew a blank.
“Home,” she said to buy time as her mind unscrambled.
What the fuck is going on, she wondered. Then blissfully her address came to her. I must be way overtired, way too stressed over tomorrow, she laughed to herself as she pulled her cell from her glittering handbag.
I guess he literally fucked my brains out, she texted her friend as the taxi sped away into the lighted darkness.
Upstairs, Jake stretched and rose tiredly from the bed, heading for the fridge and more liquid comfort. He guzzled only a few mouthfuls of Heineken before the stark realization hit him. I can still smell her perfume, still taste her lipstick and soaking pussy in my mouth. And I don’t feel better, I feel worse. He flung his beer across the room.
“Gotta wash this bitch from my body,” he groaned and stormed towards the bathroom even as he couldn’t chase his next glaring thought away, surging through him like a bolt of lightning.
I never, ever, feel this way with Amanda.
“Damn!” he screamed and fell roughly to his knees and cried.
Chapter 15
“Jesus, Wade, d’ya have to look so wide awake?” Rachel joked as he tossed his suitcases behind her and slid into the passenger seat of her SUV.
“What?” he laughed, taken aback, “Been up for an hour already but didn’t feel so chipper three coffees ago.”
“Shit,” she moaned, “I only had one and could barely swallow that with Matt barking in my face.”
“Wow,” he said but then neatly zipped it.
He didn’t know if he wanted to go there, the multitude of objections to their unceremonious trip and the zillions of reasons they should both stay put, at home. She backed out of the driveway and onto Bear Ridge Road, heading for Interstate 45 and George Bush Intercontinental Airport over an hour away. Hyped by her newfound self-assurance and excitement at finally having the guts to bend conformity and, for a little while at least, escape their smothering little town, Rachel babbled on.