Stricken Desire (7 page)

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Authors: S.K Logsdon

Tags: #romance, #erotica, #sex, #bisexual, #music, #rock and roll, #sassy heroine, #pregnant erotica

BOOK: Stricken Desire
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“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 him. 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.

 

Now I am standing backstage in a pair of my
new clothes the opening act just left the stage. They were so much
better than Xtreme Sex from the show in Vegas.

“See those clothes fit your hotness just
fine.” I hear Stacy say to me from behind. I haven’t seen him all
night long. Apparently he was busy with the band elsewhere. I hired
a cab to take me to the venue and thankfully my name was on the
backstage roster so I didn’t have to worry about access. Next gig I
am going to get a badge.

“Thanks. You know what? I do like this better
than I thought.” I smile and run my hand down the side of my new
Rock-a-Billy skintight black sleeveless dress with a bold cherry
print. My bright red patent leather four inch high closed toe pumps
lock the style in the bag. It’s kind of hot. And I’m even wearing
black lace boy shorts. I’ve never owned a pair of boy shorts before
but man are they sexy and super comfortable. Somehow Stacy tossed
in a few bras from Macy’s so I now have a matching set and I feel
like a million bucks. My red hair I left down and let it do its
natural wavy thing. I found a flower hair clip in my bag so I
clipped it into my hair. And viola I am accountant turned rock
goddess. Okay maybe I wouldn’t take it that far.

“See I told you you’d like it.” He comes up
behind me and wraps his arms my stomach. Tucking his face into the
crook of my neck. Which is totally unlike him.

“What are you doing Stace?”

“Smelling you. You smell fantastic. What are
you wearing?” A tingly feeling flows down my body. My belly is
warming up. Oh no not this again. What is wrong with me? I knew I
should have flicked the bic when I had the chance in the shower. I
don’t masturbate much maybe once a month if that. But when I do
it’s only when I can’t concentrate without the release. Being
shacked up with five men probably means I am going to have to flick
my bic on a regular basis or I might just find myself fucking
random dudes and falling into the rock and roll life style. Which
is so not me.

“Love the tattoo.” Some man from the opening
band says pointing to my arm when he walks past. He’s fairly hot
too. What should I expect? Ugly rockers? I think not.

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