by Amity Cross
Blair had been standing right there. Right in front of me in the crowd. Was she fucking real or some kind of ghost?
My eyes scanned the place where she'd been and I couldn't find her in the throng of people. Even when the house lights came up, she was just gone.
"Fuck," I hissed, bolting off stage. There was a side door that let punters out onto the street and the stage door opened up a little further down. If I was her, I'd go for the nearest exit. Ignoring Furlough's confused look, I pushed past him and wrenched open the door, stepping out onto the street. A few people who'd obviously been at the gig glanced at me, recognition showing in their eyes, but I stared straight past them. She couldn't have gone far, it'd been like thirty seconds since she'd looked away.
There weren't that many people out here yet, but as the venue started to clear, more and more concertgoers flooded out onto the street. Either I'd find her or I'd be hounded by fans. My eyes locked onto the back of a woman farther up the street. Her head was down, but she wore the same denim shorts and the same leather jacket and how the fuck I knew it was Blair, I'll never know. Running along the footpath, dodging the people who got in the way, I felt this awful sensation boiling in my gut. Desperation.
"Blair!" I called out, and for a sickening moment the woman kept walking and I found myself thinking maybe it wasn't her. Maybe I'd already lost the chance. But then she stopped, raising her head, and I came to a halt a few paces behind.
As she turned, my breath caught and my cock twitched. Blair. Then her eyes met mine and I couldn't help closing the gap between us. Something flashed over her beautiful face, annoyance, anger, disappointment? I didn't know, all I could think about was the fact that she was standing in front of me. She was real and she was here.
"How the fuck do you know my name?" she hissed, looking around the street warily.
Backing her into the doorway of a shop so my face was hidden, I pulled her license from the back pocket of my jeans and held it up.
Her eyes widened in shock and she snatched it from me. "Motherfucker."
"You dropped it, beautiful," I said with a smirk. She was the one who'd left the calling card and I chose to see it as fate. She obviously chose to see it as a mistake, one that I was determined to make her see as a good one.
She shoved the card into a pocket of her leather jacket, zipped it closed and began to edge around me.
"Where are you going?"
"Someplace else."
Before she could turn and run again, I threaded my fingers through hers and pulled her back toward the stage door.
"Let me go," she hissed, digging her heels in.
"Gimme five minutes." I had to kiss her again. I was desperate for another taste of her lips, the stinging bite of her attitude, everything. "If I don't get off the street, then someone will recognize me."
"Wow, the problems of rock star fuckwits."
Her barb should’ve stung, and it did, but coming from her lips it was like an aphrodisiac. "If I wasn't a rock star fuckwit, then I wouldn't have been in that bar last night."
"And I would have just fucked someone else."
"You say that like it doesn't bother you."
"It doesn't."
There was a moment of hesitation before she spoke and I tried to hide a smile. "Five minutes. Hear me out." I tugged on her hand again.
She glanced at the people walking past, then up the street in the direction she’d been walking like she was trying to formulate an escape plan. "Five minutes," she glared, her shoulders sinking. "Not a second more."
Grinning, I led her back to the stage door, head down and fast. Five minutes was more than I needed, but fuck was I going to use them all.
Dark and Dangerous pushed through the stage door, not once letting go of my hand. He'd backed me into a corner and I couldn't help it. I really couldn't. The fucker was tempting beyond belief.
A man stood just inside the door and when we passed, he looked at me with a frown, like I was some kind of problem that needed fixing. Somehow I knew I wasn't welcome here and it just made me feel like running even more. I shouldn't have agreed on that five minutes. I should’ve kept walking the moment I heard my name.
"Fuck off, Furlough," Dark and Dangerous hissed, pulling me closer.
I assumed the uptight dickwad was Affliction's manager or some kind of groupie repellant. He just shook his head as we passed and then he was gone. Just as suddenly, I was being pulled into a room, the door slamming closed behind me, and then we were alone. Amps and cases and all kinds of crap littered the floor and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. The mask I'd worn the night before was gone, kaput, and I was just plain old Blair Hayden with no cards to play but my own.
Before I could say anything, Dark and Dangerous pressed me against the wall, hands cupping either side of my face. He looked at me like I'd just saved his life. Like I'd just delivered him from an eternity of misery. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?
"I've been hard ever since I woke up," he murmured, flexing against me like he was trying to prove a point. "You shouldn't have left."
"You were a one-night stand," I hissed. "It was a great fuck, but that's all it was."
"Was it?"
A hand dropped to my waist and teeth grazed against my neck and despite myself, I shuddered against him.
"When you have sex that raw with someone, you just know. It clicks and it works and fucked if I know why, but me in you? It's the only place I ever want to be."
His words sliced right into my heart and I felt myself starting to give in. I'd never give in. "You want a fantasy." I wasn't even sure that person he'd fucked last night was really inside of me. She was a mask that covered everything that was real. Men didn't say these words to me, not the day after and not ever.
He didn't seem to be listening. "I don't know what it fucking was last night, but you brought me back to life."
What the fuck? How could I bring someone back to life? Plain, nothing, nobody Blair Hayden? This guy was in a fucking hot as hell rock band with the world at his feet and he wanted me? Was he fucking high?
"The next time I'm pounding into you, I want you to scream my name."
"Oh, yeah?" I scoffed, trying to push him back. I'd used him last night and now he wanted to use me like some groupie? Fucked if I was letting him be the alpha in this nonexistent relationship.
"Blair." His breath was hot against my mouth, his cock hard against my stomach, and thoughts of us in bed together slammed into my brain like a fucking sledgehammer. He was in my head, he was everywhere. I didn't care one bit who he was, he was here right now offering himself to me on a silver platter and if I didn't kiss him, I might as well give up at life.
Digging my fingers into the back of his head, I pulled his mouth against mine and he struggled to take over, our tongues clashing, tasting. When he picked me up, I wrapped my legs around his waist, his length pressing into me through our clothes, and it was just as explosive as the night before. He put me down on top of one of the amps and pushed the jacket off my shoulders.
"Do you want me to fuck you right now?" he asked, pulling off my singlet. "I want to feel you come again."
Without hesitation, I said, "I want you inside me." I lifted my ass off the amp and dragged my shorts down and he pulled them the rest of the way over my boots.
"No underwear?" He cocked an eyebrow, licking his lips.
"No underwear." I reached for the button on his jeans, tugging him between my legs, while he pulled at my bra, exposing my nipples. He let his jeans drop just enough so I could wrap my fingers around his hard length, pulling him free as he discarded his shirt. Running my palm up and down, I remembered how his cock had felt inside me, coaxing one of the most overpowering orgasms I'd ever felt out of my neglected body.
Spreading my legs open further, I rubbed his erection against my opening before circling it around my clit, delighting in the soft groans coming from him. I had control for the moment, but for how long?
His jeans
hung around his knees and he took a condom from one of the pockets, prying my fingers off him so he could roll it on.
"Hard and fast," I commanded as he positioned himself just inside me.
"Right now, I don't think I could fuck you any other way." As soon as the words left his lips, he thrust deep, hitting the spot he'd made tender the night before. This time, instead of lingering inside so I could stretch to accommodate him, he pulled straight out and thrust again and didn't stop.
"Oh, god," I gasped as he pounded into me again and again, his delicious cock striking deep. Hard and fast, exactly the way I wanted it.
"West," he grunted. "My name is West."
The amp lifted and dropped back to the floor with each thrust, the feeling of him fucking me raw overpowering everything else. I wasn't going to say his name. I was walking out of here the moment he pulled out and wasn't going to look back.
His teeth grazed the curve of my neck, fingers biting into my ass. "Say it," he hissed, burying deep and stopping his onslaught.
With a tortured moan, I rolled my hips against him, trying to chase my orgasm, but he was too strong. He held me so tight, I couldn't move, and anger boiled through my blood.
"Asshole," I spat and sunk my teeth into his bottom lip, hoping I drew blood.
Hands left my ass and fisted into my hair and he plunged his tongue into my mouth, taking what he wanted from me without shame. He was so fucking dominating and powerful I didn't believe it was reality I was in right now. Sex was never this shattering, not for nothing Cinderellas like me.
I couldn't help myself and I kissed him back, tasting him like a drug. This fucking asshole was like an addiction. His taste, his cock, his wicked words. I couldn't get enough.
"Blair," he breathed against my lips, flexing inside me.
Quaking against him, I didn't have any fight left. I needed to come and I need him to deliver me. "West."
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he pulled out to his tip and slammed right back in again, our skin coming together in a delicious slap. Who the fuck was this man?
I threw my head back as I started to come and he latched onto my breasts, sucking and biting my hard nipples, grunting like a fucking animal as he came with me.
"Fucking hell," he said, crumbling into me, our chests heaving with heavy breaths.
What was with this guy? I breathed in his musky scent, lips brushing against the stubble that coated his jaw. He smelt like a man, not some fancy as fuck cologne.
"Come back to the hotel with me," he murmured.
"Why?" I asked, my voice wavering.
"Because I want you to. I don't want to let you go."
"I've known you a day." It came out a little angry and rightfully so. West was a guy in a band who probably fucked groupies for a living as much as he played that guitar. The only reason he'd want me to go with him was so he could fuck me some more. I knew his name and he knew mine, and that was a huge fucking warning right there. I was the one who'd get hurt if I started to get attached. I was just a number. Being a human being would never come into the equation.
He drew back, his chocolate eyes searching mine. "You're not a groupie, Blair. I'd never treat you like one."
Like shit he would. "I can't come with you."
"Why not?"
"Because you obviously want something I can't give you."
Frowning, he pulled out and turned his back as he discarded the condom and pulled his jeans back up. Sliding off the amp, I dragged my shorts back over my boots and retrieved my top and jacket from the floor. Time to split before he could tempt me with his wicked words again. Self-preservation and all that jazz.
"I'll make you a deal."
I turned at the sound of his voice. He was watching me getting dressed, adjusting my bra over my breasts, and his eyes were still hungry. My curiosity spiked and I asked, "What kind of deal?"
"I have the next week off," he said, eyes sparkling like he knew he already had me. "Spend it with me and at the end we can keep going or end it. Your call."
"Determined fucker, aren't you?" I cocked my head to the side and a grin pulled at his mouth. I'd tried not to notice, but now I saw he had a lopsided smile, a small scar over his lip. Despite wanting to keep the guy at arm’s length, I found myself wondering how he'd gotten it. It was too fucking late now, wasn't it? I don't even know why I was so determined not to let him know my name anymore. It was lost in the haze of what we'd just done on top of his amp. He'd tempted me with his cock and his deal and peeled a layer off my hard shell in the process. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't find the emotion anywhere near the surface.
"I still have to go to work," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I can't get time off unless I quit the piece of shit, so you have to live with it. Some of us don't burn hundred dollar bills for the thrill of it."
"Fine," he laughed.
I ran my eyes over him for good measure, lingering on his crotch.
"I could go again, you know."
"Oh, I've no doubt," I said.
"So, do you agree?" He inched forward like a lion stalking its prey.
He knew I had no choice but to say yes, not after that. So I just nodded.
Stepping into me, his hands circled my waist, thumbs running up and down against my skin. Dipping his head low, he pressed his lips to mine and this time he kissed me like I was something breakable. Tender and slow, like a lover. His tongue skimmed over my bottom lip then lightly teased against my tongue before he claimed me completely. It was like a fairytale kiss from a romance novel. He kissed me like I was his lifeline and all it did was scare the hell out of me.
"You won't regret it," he whispered against my mouth, before kissing me again.
I didn't know what it was he was looking for, but whatever it was, he obviously thought I was it. Either he was fucking insane or I was blind. Regardless, I'd agreed to his deal and would see it through because I was a stubborn bitch like that. Maybe I was the insane one in this scenario.
By the end of the week, one of us would be broken and I was determined that it wouldn't be me. I couldn't do it again. West didn't seem like a man who was easy to come back from…if you ever came back at all.
He would get my body, but he'd never get my heart.
I didn't know what I was thinking when I offered Blair a deal, but I saw that look in her eyes, the one that said she was gunna run the first chance she got, and I had to offer something. I wondered what her deal was, anyway. Why she thought it was a good idea to leave me behind. It couldn't be the whole Affliction thing—she'd been at our concert which meant that she was into our music. The thought made a smile creep onto my face. Maybe she had a screwed-up past, too.
When I took her hand and pulled her back out into the hall, Furlough was standing at the other end looking at me like I was psycho. I knew what he was going to say and I didn't want to hear it, and I especially didn't want Blair to. It felt like the tiniest thing would frighten her and she'd bolt in the opposite direction.
I was determined to know more about her, and by the end of the week I wanted her to be mine. And I wanted to hear it from her beautiful lips. I'm yours, West.
"Where are we going?" she asked as I led her through the venue.
"The hotel." There wasn't anywhere else to go, not if I didn't want to be recognized and right now, I wanted to give Blair my full and undivided attention.
Stepping out onto the street, I decided we should walk it. The hotel was only a few blocks away and a huge flashy car with tinted windows would draw the vultures and fans like nothing else. I wanted to keep Blair as far away from that shit as possible. The street was busy, but nobody was hanging around, probably because it was a service entrance and not the stage door. Putting my head down, I flung an arm across her shoulders and guided her down the footpath, the sensation of her body against mine searing in a good way.
"Is it always like this?" she asked, fitting herself into my side. "Covert?"
"When we're on tour, yeah."
"Don't you get tired of it?"
"Tired of what?" I knew exactly what she was getting at, but I liked the fact that she was talking to me as Blair, not the wild part of her that was looking for a quick fuck.
"The attention."
Sighing as we crossed the street, I said, "Sometimes." The attention was what I craved, but it was also what sent me on my downward spiral. The right kind of attention was the stuff that came with the music. Interviews with people that gave a shit, Rolling Stone, NME…not the tabloid shit that just wanted to know what I did last Saturday and if it was scandalous or not. The fame part wasn't so hot after a while.
She didn't ask me any more questions as I led her into the hotel foyer and back to the elevator, my arm slipping from her shoulders to her waist. Even when I scanned the card and pressed the button for my floor, I didn't break contact. It was like I needed to be reassured she was real and still here, and physical contact was the only way to do it. As the car ascended, I reached up and tucked her wild, almost black hair behind her ear and when she shivered, I let a grin pull at my lips. Her hazel eyes met mine and my cock began to harden as she dragged her bottom lip into her mouth.
The door opened with a ding and I smiled at the memory of the night before.
"What?" she asked, a wicked lilt to her voice as she walked backwards out of the elevator.
"Just remembering last night." I followed her, reaching out to touch any skin I could come in contact with. Last night felt like an eternity ago and my body still hummed in the afterglow of our desperate quickie back at the venue.
Her hand traced the tattoos on my bare forearms before her fingers curled around mine. This felt different than before. Last night Blair had been cocky, direct and forceful. She had bitch written all over her, but now it was like she'd dropped the facade and was just herself. She was still prickly and hostile, but there was a softness that I hadn't picked up on before.