by Hamel, B. B.
But this, this isn’t a fucking prank. This isn’t the sort of thing you did to make someone smile or to feel like they’re part of the team.
This is straight up malicious.
I get out my phone and snap a few pictures before I start to tear them down.
“Did you see who did this?” I ask the maid. She’s still lingering, wringing her hands nervously.
“No, no,” she says.
“When’d you see it?”
“Just now. I went straight to you.”
“How’d you know to come to me?” I ask without looking.
“I saw you two. And... I’m a fan.”
I hesitate. “You’re a fan?”
“Of Katie.” She perks up. “That song, “Your Booty,” it’s my song.”
I grin at her. “Yeah, same.” I turn back to the door and finish tearing off the notes. I don’t want Katie to have to see it like this, although I’ll show her the phone pictures.
When I finish, I look at the door then down at my phone. I can’t believe some motherfucker would do this.
But worse, I can’t believe someone knew this was her room.
“How many people know she’s staying here?” I ask the maid.
“Not many,” she says. “Front desk. Manager. A couple cleaning staff.” She shrugs. “I don’t know. Ten maybe.”
“Would any of them do this?”
“No,” she says, looking horrified. “We’re all fans.”
I grunt a little. “Anyone hanging around? Anyone suspicious?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Nobody.”
I sigh, annoyed. What the fucking shit is going on. First the horse head, and now this? Motherfucker.
“There is one thing,” she says, glancing up at the ceiling.
I follow her gaze. Up on the ceiling, pointing down the hall, is this boring looking light fixture. Except it’s not shining.
It takes me a second. That light fixture isn’t a fucking light. It’s a goddamn camera.
I grin at her. “Thanks. You’ve been a big help.”
“Just make sure Katie is okay, okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” I grunt at her. “I’m watching out for her.”
The maid nods and heads off. I linger outside Katie’s door, wondering if I should wake her up, but I decide against it. She’s tired enough and doesn’t need this right now. I’ll tell her later.
I head downstairs to the lobby. The woman behind the front desk looks up at me and smiles. “How can I help you?”
“Manager,” I grunt at her.
She hesitates. “You need the manager.”
I nod. “Please,” I add. I’m not in the desert anymore, after all.
She nods and walks off. I wait a few minutes, rocking back on my heels, looking around like I’ll spot the fucker that put those notes up there.
It’s just an old man, sitting in a chair and reading a newspaper alone, though. I doubt he did it…. Unless it’s a disguise. I consider going over and checking to make sure that he’s not wearing a bald cap, but decide against looking like an insane person.
“Can I help you?”
The woman smiles out at me, a different woman this time, older and more tired-looking. I smile back at her.
“Security footage for the hallway Katie’s staying in,” I say to her. “You got that?”
She frowns. “Katie?”
“You know who I am.”
She sighs. “I think we have it.”
“I need it. From last night.”
“Why? I can’t just give you that.”
I hold up my phone and show her the picture of the door. The manager sucks in a sharp breath.
“Okay, come on.”
I follow her back behind the desk and down a short little hall. We turn into a cramped office with one chair, a desk against one wall, and another table with several little TVs perched on top. The back wall is covered with a rack filled with VHS tapes.
“Okay,” she says. “Our system is super old, we haven’t digitized yet. Management is cheap about security. But since it’s from last night, it’ll be no problem.”
I make a mental note never to stay in this hotel ever again.
She walks over to the TVs and the bank of tapes. There’s a machine next to them, tall and wide. She fiddles with it for a second before ejecting a tape and sliding it into the player next to one of the TVs.
She frowns and rewinds the thing. It starts with an empty room, and suddenly I’m there with the maid. We disappear, and it’s just the maid, looking at the door with an alarmed expression. Then she disappears, and there’s nothing.
Seconds tick past as minutes on the tape. Morning turns to night and there’s nothing.
Until finally, someone appears in frame.
At first, it looks like nothing, like someone just casually walking down the hall. But soon the person steps back in front of the door and then slowly, painstakingly, starts taking the Post-Its down from the door, moving backwards.
“This is him,” the manager says.
I nod and stare. I can’t see the guy’s face, not yet at least. He’s working diligently, writing them out carefully before sticking them on. Soon, nearly the whole door is empty, watching the culprit move in reverse, and he hasn’t looked around once.
And that’s when he finally turns. I don’t know what makes him look, but he looks startled. There are only a few notes on the door at this point, but that doesn’t matter. He’s looking back, eyes wide, face clear on the screen.
She stops and looks at me. “Recognize him?” the manager asks.
I grunt. “I know who that is.”
“Good,” she says. “Maybe we can—”
“The tape,” I say, holding out my hand.
She hesitates. “I can’t just give it to you.”
“Please,” I say. “This is important.”
She hesitates again but sighs. “Okay,” she says. “But only because I’m a fan.”
I grin at her. Everyone’s a fucking fan these days. I take the tape with a nod.
“Thanks. This is a huge help.”
“Good luck. I hope you get the guy.”
“Don’t worry.” I walk over to the door and look back with a grin, tape in my hand. “I will.”
I head back upstairs, pulse pounding.
15
Katie
I wake up with a yawn and check the clock. It’s a little past nine in the morning.
I stretch and sit up, a little smile on my face. I’m still sore between my legs from Graham’s visit last night, a really good sore, deep and aching and pleasant.
He really went to town, like he was a little intense about it. I loved every second of his big cock tearing me open. And afterward, he was surprisingly tender, whispering in my ear, making me smile, making me laugh.
Graham’s visits every night are the highlight of this whole tour, which is surprising and a little terrifying.
I’ve never felt this way about a man before. I mean, I’ve had plenty of guys want something from me, that just comes with being famous. Jasper was my first really serious relationship, and even that was fake.
Graham, though, he’s different. He doesn’t ask for anything but me, and I’m happy to give him that. He makes me feel so good, so happy, and I get this strange feeling in my stomach whenever he’s around. It’s strange, I didn’t want him on this tour to begin with, and now I couldn’t imagine doing it without him.
Crazy how your life can change. We’re just over a month into this and my whole opinion of this man has flipped on its head.
I get up and walk slowly into the bathroom. I brush my teeth, wash my face, and put on some fresh clothes. I feel good, happy actually, and I’m smiling when I head back out into the main room.
And I nearly have a freaking heart attack.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, stumbling backwards. It takes me a split second to recognize Graham sitting on the couch near the TV, but I thought he had left las
t night. “Jesus, Graham.”
“Sorry,” he grumbles at me. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I thought you left last night.”
“I did.” He frowns. “I’m back.”
“Thanks, I can see that.” I walk into the kitchen and pour myself some water. I wait a second for my heart rate to go back to normal. “What’s going on? You look angrier than usual.”
He grunts again and stands. “Come here,” he says. “Gotta show you something.”
I frown a little. “What’s up?”
“C’mere.”
I walk over slowly. He holds out his phone.
I take it tentatively and stare. It’s a picture of a door with a bunch of Post-It notes all over the place, and there are mean words written on each note.
“What is this?” I ask him softly.
“Your door, as of this morning,” he says.
My heart nearly skips a beat. I stare at the words, and I know what this is.
It’s my freaking stalker again.
“Did… anyone else see this?” I whisper.
“The maid,” he says. “But she’s okay. She’s a fan.”
I glance at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “So is the manager, which is how I got this.”
He turns the TV on. At first, I don’t recognize what I’m looking at, but it slowly dawns on me that I’m seeing grainy security camera footage of the hallway outside my door.
Someone walks into frame and starts putting the Post-Its up on my door.
“Holy shit,” I whisper. I put Graham’s phone down and walk over to the TV, staring at the person. “It’s a guy?”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “Watch.”
“I would’ve bet money that it was a girl,” I say softly. “I mean, I don’t know why. I guess I just always figured my stalker would be a woman.”
“It sort of is,” he says.
“How?”
“Just watch.”
I watch the person working, writing notes, and he gets about a third of the way down before something spooks him. He jumps and looks over his shoulder, eyes wide.
That’s when Graham pauses the video. The face is there, clearly visible, and I stare at him.
“What the fuck?” I whisper.
“I know, right?”
Jasper stares down that hall, looking freaked out.
“How?” I ask. “I mean, what? Is this real?”
“It’s real,” he says. “I’m sorry, princess. Looks like your ex is pissed.”
“Jasper did that?”
My head’s spinning. I’ve barely been awake ten minutes and I’m already dealing with this shit.
Jasper left horrible notes for me all over my door. He wanted people to find it, wanted it to be public.
“Did we tell him about your stalker?” Graham asks me softly.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t think so.”
He grunts something and starts pacing. I stare between Jasper’s grainy but visible face on the TV and Graham, grunting to himself and pacing all over the room.
“What are you thinking?” I ask him finally.
“All this stalker shit,” Graham says to me, “were you with him all that time?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I mean, he couldn’t have done the first stuff, right?”
Graham shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, god.” I clench my jaw. “We have to tell Norah.”
“I agree.” He steps toward me. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I mean, I know what I had with Jasper was fake, but I never expected…”
“He’s a weak man.” Graham comes to me, wraps his arms around me, and pulls me close. “He cares way more about his own image than he ever cared about you.”
“I know that. But I thought we were friends at least.”
Graham chuckles. “I doubt he has real friends, just people he uses to make himself look better.”
I make fists and I want to hit something. I want to smash them against Graham’s chest, but I hold back.
“What an asshole,” I say.
“You did dump him publicly,” he counters. “Not to defend the little fuck, but you did embarrass him.”
“Still, this is… this is bad.”
“I know.” He pulls me away and looks into my eyes. “He’ll pay.”
“How?” I ask him. “Going to go kill him for me?”
He grins. “I could.”
“I know.” I sigh. “He’ll get away with it, just like everything else.”
“No, he won’t.” Graham’s jaw tightens. “I promise.”
He kisses me and for a second, I can forget all about the nightmare. There are just Graham’s lips against mine, his body muscular and strong, his arms around me. I feel safe and connected and maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.
It’s insane that he can make me feel this way. Just by kissing me, he takes all my worry away.
“It’ll be fine,” he whispers. “Now come on, little princess. Let’s go talk to my cousin.”
I sigh and nod. “Fine. Okay.” I grab his hand. “But wait. First, I need something.”
He smirks at me. “Oh, yeah?”
I kiss him again, this time with real hunger. He growls softly and drags me into the bedroom.
I let him strip off my clothes. It takes him half a second. His hands are on my body, all over my skin. He cups my breasts and kisses my neck, my throat, my lips. His tongue feels so good and his fingers are rough and strong as he slides his fingers between my legs.
I groan as he teases my clit. I roll my hips up against him.
“You need a taste of Daddy first,” he whispers to me. “Isn’t that right?”
“Please,” I beg, the way I know he likes it. “I need you. I need that big dick.”
He grunts and I pull off his shirt. He unbuckles his belt and steps out of his jeans as I lean back onto the bed, watching.
There are scars on his body, countless scars. I run my fingers over them and I know each scar has a story. I want to know the stories, every single one of them, sooner or later.
That freaks me out a little. I want to be with him so long that he tells me his most painful stories, and I want to hear them.
I stand up and kiss him, hands on his cock. I stroke him with both hands, up and down his massive shaft as he kisses me, slapping my ass.
He pushes me over the bed roughly and spins me around. His hands spread my ass and his tongue licks me all over. He licks my ass and pussy, eating me from behind, and I can’t help but wiggle my hips as pleasure blooms all in me.
He grabs my hips and pins me down on the bed, one arm behind my back. I love feeling helpless as he slides his huge cock deep inside.
I shiver and moan, wiggling my ass. He spanks me and fucks me, not bothering to take it slow this time. I’m so used to him now that he doesn’t need to take it easy.
He fucks me rough, pounding his cock deep inside my pussy. I gasp and cry out, half pain and half pleasure driving me absolutely wild.
“Is that all you can do, Daddy?” I moan, looking back at him.
He smirks and grabs my hair. “You want to fucking provoke me right now?”
“Yes, I do,” I say back. “Take your anger out on my poor little pussy.”
“Fucking dirty girl.” He pushes me down and fucks me rough. “You deserve to get your pussy fucked like this, you dirty, filthy fucking girl. You need a big strong Daddy to make you all better, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I moan. “Oh, fuck, yes.”
All my anger and confusion and everything disappear instantly as he fucks me hard. I roll my hips back, bending against him, needing to feel him deep between my legs. I moan and gasp and groan and he fucks me rough and strong, ripping deep inside.
I can feel him stretch me open as he spanks my ass again. I know I’ll have a little bruise there and I love it. I love feeling my ass raw and sore when I get on stag
e. I love thinking about my bodyguard, my Daddy, fucking my pussy while I sing to thousands of screaming fans. If they knew how he treated me…
Well, I don’t care what they’d think. It feels so good, I can barely stand it.
He turns me over, spreading my legs wide. I sit up on one elbow and kiss him as he slides his cock deep in and out. He takes his thumb and rolls it along my clit, making my purr.
“Fuck, Daddy,” I whisper.
“Let me take away your stress,” he whispers. “Let me make you feel better.”
“Oh, god, yes,” I moan. “I want that. Please, Daddy.”
“I know what you need,” he grunts, sliding in and out slower now. He kisses me hard and grabs my hair. “Now let Daddy take care of you.”
He fucks me hard and I roll my hips up against him. I push back, pressing my clit against him as he rips into me, over and over, thrusting hard. His muscles are rough and tough and huge and I dig my nails into his chest.
He grunts, grinning, fucking me harder. We’re sweating and writhing, pleasure taking over, completely controlling everything between us. I can barely think or breathe as he rips into me, fucking me deep and rough.
I can feel it building as he fucks me hard. “You want to come already?” he whispers. “You want to come on Daddy’s big cock?”
“Oh, god, I’m going to come,” I moan. “Fuck me harder, you asshole.”
He growls and thrusts into me, merciless and savage. I take his cock and writhe against him and pleasure floods through my entire body.
It rips through me as I come hard, bearing down on his huge cock. I come so hard I can barely breathe, my moans stifled into gasps as my body loses control of itself.
He keeps going, though, never slowing down, never showing any mercy. He’s not gentle when he fucks and I love that about him. He fucks me rough and deep and hard and I can feel it when he comes deep inside my pussy, filling me up.
Only then does he slow down. We’re both finished, and he collapses onto the bed next to me.
“Fuck, girl,” he grunts. “You’re insatiable.”
“Is that bad?”
“Hell, no,” he says, grinning. “It’s the best thing in the world.”
I grin back and kiss him. “We should probably go see Norah.”