by J. L. Ostle
He gives me what I take as a panty-dropping smile. He looks to be in his late twenties, neatly cut brown hair, but it’s his eyes that I like.
I really do have a thing about eyes.
With the alcohol making me feel more confident, I wrap my arms around the guy’s neck, dancing with him. He is a gentleman keeping his hands on my waist. I move myself a little closer to him and his eyes pierce into mine. I pull the back of his hair a little, smiling sweetly at him before biting my lip.
His eyes have gotten dark. I am also liking guys looking at me like that. Especially the ones who make me ache.
This guy is making me ache.
I feel this guy’s erection press against my core. I press myself harder against him, wanting him to soothe it, but it only makes it stronger. We continue to dance, but I make sure to keep our bodies very, very close.
The guy looks down at me, his fingers moving to the lace mask, like he is trying to figure out who I am.
Guessing who the girl behind the mask is.
He bends down, ready to kiss me, when I stumble forward. I see the guy being pulled away by a very angry looking Nate.
You got to be kidding me.
I want to scream, yell, and hit him.
But I know I can’t talk.
Even in my drunken state, I know I can’t make a scene.
I just walk to him, pushing his chest. He grabs hold of my wrists, pulling me into him. My body flushed against his.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?”
I may not speak but I can give a look saying ‘what do you think?’
“We are meant to get people guessing if we are together. They aren’t going to think that if you are whoring yourself to the first guy to give you a little attention.”
Anger flares up in me. How dare he call me a whore?
I slap him hard across the face, tears prickling my eyes. Leaning forward, I whisper in his ear. “How fucking dare you.” I step back, heading to the bar.
I take in a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Right now, all I want to do is cry, but I am stronger than this.
I was just having fun. I was doing what all the guys do.
No way I would have fucked the guy, but making out isn’t a big thing.
“What the fuck happened back there?” Naomi comes to my side, her face looking a little flushed.
“Nate got angry because little sis here was doing something similar to the Lambada with some hot guy. He screamed CEO. Good choice, sis.” Tegan orders a round of tequila shots.
I am starting to feel sick of tequila.
“You were dirty dancing with some guy and I missed it? So, Nate just pulled the guy away?”
“Yup and called me a whore for dancing with a guy,” I say for only them to hear.
Tegan steps back, looking angry.
“Nate called you a whore?” Tegan roars. “No one calls you a fucking whore, especially from someone who is the biggest whore in America.” Tegan down her shot, heading to Nate.
For fuck’s sake.
Naomi and I run after Tegan and she is pulling the girl who is hitting on Nate away. The girl wants to argue, but seeing Tegan’s face she thinks twice about it, walking away.
“Who the hell do you think you are calling my sister a whore? She was dancing, not fucking him on the dance floor,” she screams at him. “Anyway, if she wants to fuck every guy in this room, that is up to her, not you. You understand?”
Nate’s jaw is locked tight.
“We are meant to look like we are together,” Nate spits back.
“That’s why you are hitting on how many girls since we’ve been here? You talk shit. If I find out you call her a whore, or any other name, I swear I will cut your balls off with a blunt knife. The only one who can say shit about my sister is me.” Her speech was moving until the last part. “Sis,” Tegan shouts, signaling me to come forward. “If you want to let a guy bury deep inside you, you can.”
I roll my eyes then look at Nate. His fists at his sides are turning white.
“Okay, we are here to have a good time. Let’s go and get some more shots.” Naomi stands in the middle, trying to break up the tension.
Tegan steps back, taking my hand. “Sounds good.”
I am pulled back to the bar and we take a few more shots before dancing on the dance floor once again.
For the rest of the night, I have been given shot after shot. Tegan heads somewhere to sleep with a guy who has been hitting on her. Naomi is in a far corner of the room, flirting with Troy.
I have stayed on the dance floor, though.
I want the music to take me away.
I don’t know how long I have been dancing on my own, but I don’t care. A slow song comes on and I move my body slowly to the beat. I have my eyes closed as I let the music guide me and then my skin starts to heat up. I feel someone dancing behind me, his body radiating onto me. I can sense him moving with me, but he never touches me.
It’s like he is teasing me and my heart beats a little faster. I have never wanted someone to touch me as much as I do now. I’m so needy. I want his body close to mine. My body is so riled up that I need contact. I need someone to touch me. The song continues, but he doesn’t make a move to close the distance. Maybe there is no guy behind me.
Maybe I imagined it.
Maybe I am hoping it could be the CEO guy coming back to continue where he left off.
My body heats up further when I feel his hands finally hold on to my hips, his body swaying with mine, following mine, making my whole body shiver. I let myself get lost in the music and his closeness. The next song comes on, and again it’s a slow one. I am about to turn around. I want to know who I am dancing with, but his hands grip me tighter, his fingers digging into my hips, causing me to groan out into the room.
He starts moving my hips, taking control of the movements. We have gone slower; his front is pressed into my back, his erection against me. His thumb strokes my bare skin, and that ache between my thighs gets unbearable. One of his hands leaves my hip as he moves my hair from my shoulder and his breath fans against my neck. I turn my head to the side, but I keep my eyes closed, and he strokes his stubble against my cheek.
My stomach is full of butterflies and I almost come undone when his lips touch my skin, kissing it. He scrapes his stubble over my neck to my jaw, teasing me. I need more. I press my backside against his erection, grinding myself against him when I hear him groan and I would recognize that sound from anywhere.
It’s Nate.
I am about to step out of his touch, but he pulls me back into him. His hand slides down toward my pussy but stops above it.
I have never wanted to be naked as much as I do in this moment.
He moves me again to the music, making us both sway, but I’m panting with want. His hands leave me and he touches my shoulders, sliding the straps of my dress down a little, exposing my shoulders.
His fingers go to my shoulders, to the top of my chest, then his hands glide down my body, down my hips until his fingers entwine with mine and guide my hands to the front of me, pulling the hem of my dress up a little. I gasp when his fingers go between my thighs, his breath picking up near my ear.
Knowing he is turned on as much as I am is making me want to beg for him to keep going.
I don’t care who is watching because right now all I’m concerned about is him and me. All the anger I felt toward him has seeped out of me. I release one of my hands and loop it so it’s around his neck as I push myself farther into him.
His free hand strokes my bare skin along my thigh as he grinds himself against me while we still sway in our own little world. I can feel him getting harder and I can’t get close enough. He holds on to my hips again and squeezes tightly. I lift my other arm so it’s also hooked around his neck as I push myself closer into him, even though we can’t get any closer.
Our breathing is coming in fast. I never wanted someone to fuck me this badly before. This is gettin
g unbearable. When his nails dig into my side I groan, gripping his hair, hearing him growl into my neck. He takes hold of my hand, pulling me away. I look around me to see if anyone has noticed, but everyone seems to be too drunk to care.
I don’t know where he is taking me, but I don’t care.
He takes me into a room, pushing me against a wall, pressing his forehead against mine, our breathing coming in fast. I want him to kiss me so badly. His eyes stay on mine as I feel his fingers glide to my chest, down to my breasts. My eyes close, whimpering when he presses himself against my core.
We stay like that what feels like forever. He doesn’t make another move. I open my eyes. He leans his face in closer to mine, his eyes locked on me, drawing me in.
He just watches me. I can see him second-guessing now. I don’t want him to take any of this back.
I know this is it.
This could be the only chance I will ever get to kiss him. Without thinking twice, I grab the back of his neck and pull him toward me until my lips are on his.
It’s an instant frenzy; my fingers digging into the back of his head, his hands on the bottom of my back, pulling my body into his. He lifts me effortlessly and I wrap my legs around him. He backs up until he has me pinned against the wall once again, his lips never leaving mine. The kiss is hard and fast. It’s like we can’t get enough of each other. My head is getting dizzy with all this carnal want.
I need more. I want so much more.
He pulls back and I whimper at the loss. “We need to stop,” he says.
I look at him, seeing his eyes on me. I know he doesn’t want this to stop. Fuck, I don’t want this to stop.
“You want to stop?” I grind harder against him. His eyes close, his breathing coming out in pants. “Tell me to stop.” I take the straps of my dress down, exposing my breasts to him. I quickly grab hold of his shirt, pulling it apart, buttons flying everywhere, pressing my skin against him, just like at the photoshoot.
“Fuck, Blair.” He pushes himself closer to me.
I smile, knowing I’m making him crazy. I don’t want him to stop this right now. I undo his zipper, pulling out his dick, pressing it against my covered pussy, grinding myself against him again, causing him to growl into my neck.
“Don’t stop touching me,” I beg and it’s like a switch goes off. He looks at me with so much desire and want. His fingers go to my soaked panties before he pushes them to the side, his fingers entering me. I scream out into the room.
“You’re so tight.” His fingers continue to assault me. I grind myself against his hand. “Fuck,” he whispers. I then feel his dick gliding along my folds, spreading my juices. I feel him at my entrance when there is a bang on the door, causing us to jump.
Looking at the door and back at him, I see his eyes trained on me. So many emotions go through them before once again he starts to close himself off from me. This time it hurt like a knife.
He puts me down and steps back, sorting himself out, and I do the same.
I try and get control of my breathing when Nate opens the door and I see a guy holding a camera, dressed in plain jeans and T-shirt. I look at him confused. Nate rubs the back of his neck.
“Got some good shots. Was told you were back here,” the guy says and it’s then when he realizes I am here also. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” He looks at me. I can imagine I look a mess right now. “Should I take any more?”
I look around the room to see we are in an office. “What shots?” I ask the guy, and he looks at Nate and then back at me.
“Jeffery has hired me to take some pictures during your time on the tour of you and Nate.”
I try and clear my head of the alcohol that is still swimming, trying to process what he just said.
“You took pictures of me and Nate?” I ask. Then it clicks. “You took pictures of me and Nate dancing? Did you take pictures of us running off?”
The guy looks back at Nate. I realize I’m talking when I shouldn’t, but right now I don’t care.
“Yeah, didn’t Nate tell you?”
Nate looks at the guy, not wanting to look in my direction.
“No, he didn’t.”
The guy starts to look uncomfortable, so he leaves and I glare at Nate, wanting to slap him once again.
All that was just an act.
How many times does this boy have to hurt me before I take the hint?
“Blair, I can explain.”
I raise my hand, stopping him.
“I don’t want to hear it. I am too tired for this shit now. You did all that for the camera. You did all that stuff with me for your job. You could have told me, but you didn’t. A warning would have been nice.”
“I guess I wanted you to be in the moment. I didn’t think it would have escalated as much as it did, but what just happened, I don’t regret any of it.” He tries to come toward me, but I step away from him.
“Well, I do. I regret doing any of that with you. I let you do all that in front of our friends, your fans. A room full of strangers. I did it, yes, because I was in the moment. You did it because you were told to.” I shake my head.
“Blair—”
I interrupt him, “From now on, Nate, we are just working colleagues. I will play in front of the camera. I will act like I’m head over heels for you when anyone is around, but that’s all it will be. Acting.” I try and walk around him to get out, but he stops me.
“Blair, I didn’t mean to hurt you. We are friends, right?”
I look into his deep blue eyes.
“We were never friends, not really. You acted like I didn’t exist most of the time, until recently, yeah, you started seeing me as a girl you lusted after. I saw how you looked at me at times, like I was nothing. But when you were drunk you were always nice to me, especially when I sang to you as you slept.”
He looks at me confused.
“You sang to me as I slept?”
That’s all he got from that?
“Yeah, why?”
He starts to pace.
“Can you sing to me?”
I stare at him likes he’s crazy. I am trying to tell him something serious and he wants me to sing?
“What? No. I am leaving, you weirdo.” I grab hold of the handle and he turns me around so fast my head goes a little dizzy.
“I need you to sing to me. I need to see if you…” He shakes his head. “Just sing.”
I slap his hands off me. “I think you need some sleep.”
“How many years have you been singing to me? Answer that then you can go.”
I look into his eyes and he is really pleading with me.
“The last three years, if not longer. I used to hum to you when you had to stay at my old house because you were too drunk to go to yours and couldn’t sleep.”
His eyes go wide and he looks at me in a way I have never seen before.
“It’s you,” he whispers.
I don’t stay around to see what he means. I leave the room, running back to the dance floor, heading to Naomi, who is talking closely to Troy. She looks up at me, and she must see I’m upset as she stands.
“Are you okay?”
I shake my head, trying not to let the tears fall. “Not really. Can we go, please?” I beg.
“Of course.” She grabs hold of my hand.
“I’m coming too.” Troy comes to my other side and gives me a sideways hug. We leave the club in a cab, heading back to where the tour bus is. Once inside I hear Sam snoring in his bunk and notice Tegan isn’t home yet.
“What happened?” Naomi asks once we take a seat in the booth.
“Nate and I almost had sex,” I blurt out.
“Wait what?” Naomi asks in shock. “Where?”
“In an office.” I plump my head on the table before looking back up. I was going to have sex with Nate in an office.
How classy.
“Nate wouldn’t do that. He said he couldn’t do that as you are too good for him, for any of us.
”
Naomi and I look at Troy surprised.
“Nate said Blair is too good for him?” Naomi asks him.
“Yeah. When you turned eighteen, Blair, guys started taking notice of you. But come on, you are gorgeous.” He waves his hand up and down my body. “Anyway, by this point, Nate always felt overprotective of you. Your Mom asked him to always look after you as she said you looked up to him.”
I smile, shaking my head. Mom knew how much I really liked Nate and told me that one day he will see how amazing I am.
“Nate acts like she’s not there most of the time,” Naomi adds.
“I can’t explain that.” Troy sits back.
“He was saying something about asking me to sing, asking how long have I sung to him, saying it’s me. Why ask that?”
Troy starts chuckling. “The guy is nuts. He says in his dreams his muse comes to him, singing to him, letting him know she’s there. Inspiring him. Why do you think he gets as drunk as he does? One point he got obsessed over it, wanting to drink just on the odd chance he would see her. But the bastard would never remember what his muse looked like.” He laughs some more.
“He said before I ran out ‘It’s you.’ You think he thinks I’m his so-called muse?”
Troy stops laughing. His eyes widen.
“Holy shit, that would explain a lot. You can sing, can’t you?”
“Yes, she can sing so well it can make the gods weep,” Naomi adds in.
“You have been putting him to bed, so he must think when he sees you that you are his muse, thinking he’s dreaming it all. Holy fuck, girl, he is in love with you.”
I stand up as soon as those words leave his lips.
“He can’t love me if he thinks I’m someone else.”
“Come on, haven’t you noticed how he has been around you lately? He gets jealous, he ignores you when you do anything cute or sweet. I see the looks he gives you,” Troy says.
“I have even said he’s been different around you,” Naomi says, standing with me. “That’s who the girl is. It’s not your sister, it’s you. He has been infatuating over you. You are the girl he sings to at the end of the shows. He got drunk to see you.”
This is crazy.