by Shayne Ford
The guy motions to me.
“It’s for River.”
Of course, it is. Fuck me.
Ron’s eyebrows shoot up, his lips pursing into a knowing smile. Why does he always think everything has to do with a woman?
I slide off my seat and saunter to the door. The security guy spins around and steps away, the woman behind him edging to me.
Before I can open my arms, she wraps around me like a muffler. Her hair smells like winter, and her energy is contagious.
Her simple presence elevates my mood, shifting my focus away from everything else.
It’s all for the best.
5
A half hour later, Thalia and I ride the limo back to the hotel where I offer to share my suite with her. We’ll go to my show together, and later on, to the after-party. Hopefully, her company will improve my disposition.
We make a quick stop on Fifth Avenue where she picks up a dress from a store while I wait for her in the car. I roll the window down and let my eyes roam over the Christmas lights, the smell of winter filling my lungs.
A sound of carols drifts through the air, and my thoughts start wandering away.
I miss the winter of my childhood–– back home in Idaho, the thick blankets of snow, and the short days and cold stillness. I miss the silence of the winter nights–– they were like portals to a different world, and as I listen to the people on the sidewalk, their cheery voices, and their laughter, I realize how much I miss the closeness to a woman.
“Hey.”
The door pulls open, and Thalia jumps in.
“Done?”
“Yeah,” she says, dragging more cold air in.
I roll the window up.
She sets the shopping bags on the opposite bench and glances at me.
“It wasn’t long, was it?” she asks, her cheeks flushed.
“No, it wasn’t,” I say, smiling.
“Good. I don’t want to keep you from your Rock Star duties.”
I smile.
“You know you’re the only one who gets away with this.”
She nods, her eyes laughing.
“So, did you find what you were looking for?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says enthusiastically.
I don’t know anyone shopping as fast as her, a quality that certainly extends to anything else she's tasked with. She’s been a great personal assistant, and she’s really good at what she does.
It helps that she knows me well. We grew up together, and aside from Steve, she’s the only other person I can trust with my life.
She never disappointed me.
Well, maybe a little, when she told me she loves women more than men and introduced me to her girlfriend. That was years back.
After gaping at Cassie for a good minute, I realized Thalia was way better than me at picking up women. She knocks any man’s socks off on her own, let alone in the arms of another good looking woman.
“So, how come you didn’t tell me about this trip?” I ask, giving her a quizzical look.
Her eyes slip away from mine.
“It was a last minute thing. It was long overdue to visit my father side of the family, and this was a great opportunity to see them, and also to stop by at your last show.”
This is a canned answer if I’ve ever heard one. I doubt there’s a father side of her family that needs to be visited just about now.
“Where’s Cassie?” I ask, slightly annoyed by her lie.
She tries to evade my eyes, but doesn’t do a good enough job, and I notice the sadness in her gaze. I fucking knew it. I stretch my arm out and pull her closer. She snuggles close to my chest as I wrap the other arm around her.
“What happened?” I ask.
“She needs some time... Alone.”
“That sucks. What did you do?”
She turns her face to me, teary-eyed.
“What do you mean? I didn't do anything,” she says, but somehow I doubt.
“Really?”
She leans against the window, her face glowing under the tossing lights. We go quiet for a moment, and she looks at me as if she’s never seen me in her life. Her eyes glint with a mysterious smile. Mystified, she rolls her gaze over my lips and then back to my eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
As if I’m blind. What the hell was that?
“So what did you do?” I say, nudging the conversation back on track.
“We had a fight.”
“Mmm-hmm. And?”
“I want her to move in with me.”
“Oh, shit,” I say, barely stifling a smile.
“What?”
“Nothing. What did she say?”
“She says I want to control her.”
Clenching my jaw, I try to suppress my laughter. She looks at me baffled.
“What’s so funny?”
“She’ll be back. Just give her some time, and space, once she comes back. She’ll stick with you if you do that.”
Her face lights up.
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I do...”
She pushes herself up to her elbows, and her jacket slides open, revealing the contour of her breasts straining against the sheer knit of her top.
Her hard nipples beg for attention.
My eyes dip and stall.
“So you’re technically on a break...” I mutter, my mind slipping into a dungeon.
“Yes. What about you?”
She gives me a look that quickly warms up my body. I shift my eyes to the window.
“What happened with, um…?” she asks.
“She’s bedding somebody else this week. So I’m told. An athlete. She was probably doing it all along, but now it’s out in the open, meaning all over the Internet,” I say.
She pulls herself up even more, and stares at me, trying to catch my eyes.
“Heartbreaking, huh?” she says mockingly.
I start to laugh.
A grin stretches across her lips, pushing her sadness away.
The street lights dance in her hair, a soft shadow concealing her eyes, yet even so, I can tell she’s preying on me, and that’s a first. I’ve seen it so many times, but never in her eyes, and that’s truly a surprise.
My gaze drops to her lips.
Slowly, she pushes off the window and straightens her back, her chest moving close to me. Her eyes escape the cone of darkness, her lips slowly parting, and now I know exactly what she wants.
The car takes a right turn and pulls in front of the hotel, shattering the awkward moment. I help her out the car as the driver picks up the shopping bags.
Minutes later, we enter my suite. She starts digging into the shopping bags, and my eyes drift down her body. What the hell was I thinking? Suddenly, her overnight stay is no longer a simple solution to a problem. It’s a problem in itself. Swiftly, I sneak into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.
A cold shower is in order.
A half hour later, body tamed, and mind cleared, I enter the bedroom, wearing only a towel wrapped around my waist.
I’d say parading in red lacy underwear in front of me is not a smart idea when my towel can fly off my hips at a moment’s notice.
Grinning playfully, she hides behind a robe that should be on her, not folded in her arms. As she saunters to the bathroom, she brings her hand to her back, unclasps her bra, slides it off her shoulders, and peels it off.
Slender and tanned, her hair flowing down her back, she wears nothing but a red scrap of fabric, strapped up her butt.
Hard, my cock twitches under my towel, full of ideas. She slams the door shut while I spin around and try to erase that image from my mind.
I put my jeans on, and clothed, I wait for her.
An hour later, we’re on our way to the venue.
Honestly, I’m not a limo guy. It’s not my style. That doesn’t mean I don’t ride it occasionally or when, like now, I have company.
She looks out the window,
mystified by the lights flooding the streets of Manhattan. Clad in a studded, leather-like, mini dress, she sits in the corner.
Her back is arched, her long legs crossed, the layers of wheat blonde hair draping over her shoulders.
A hand rests on her thigh.
My eyes roll over her shapely legs down to the four-inch heels. This is a wild cat if I’ve ever seen one. Somehow, I never caught that. Maybe because, I’ve never seen her dressed like that, and also she never hit on me before.
I swing my gaze away from her and look outside.
How am I suppose to sleep with her in the same bed?
In my defense, I thought she’s into ladies only when I came up with this marvelous idea like the genius that I am. A soft rustle wafts through the air, a dip in the leather bench putting her next to me.
She slides her hand up my thigh, and my pulse begins to race. Of all places she could’ve placed her hand on my tall, well-built body, she finds a spot, not low enough to call it a thigh and not high enough to call it a waist.
And then, without the slightest warning or introduction, she slips her hand between my legs and palms my cock. I almost burst a vessel. My dick grows fast in her hand, my balls getting tight and heavy.
Boldly, she locks my eyes, her hand squeezing me and stroking me, her lips pulling apart as if I need another pointer.
Without tearing my eyes away from her, I scoop my phone out of my pocket and call Steve. He’s under strict instructions not to drive anywhere near backstage until further notice. He can take the liberty to drive in circles for all I care.
Thalia’s observing me with the patience of a lioness who’s about to eat her prey. I toss my phone to the side as she leans on me, her fruit scented breath fanning over my lips.
She slides one hand inside my shirt and grips my shoulder while rubbing my cock with the other through my jeans.
Hard to believe, I’m still her fucking boss.
If I ever dreamed of being fucked, I can’t think of anyone better than her. Running her eyes down my body, she unbuttons my jeans, slinks her hand inside and curls her fingers around my shaft.
Her lips come to mine, soft and tender. She tastes good, and she’s a real kisser. Hot and passionate. My hand wraps around her neck as I slide my tongue between her lips.
Moaning, she crashes onto me. I pull her completely on my lap, setting her astride. Her fingers hook under my T-shirt, and I lift my arms so she can pull it off.
We lock mouths again, my hand slipping under her skirt, rolling her dress up. As I reach the edge of her thigh-high stockings, I run my fingers over her soft skin.
There’s not the slightest piece of fabric on her crotch. I move my hand to her ass and back between her legs again, and then I trace her slit, touching her silky flesh.
She starts to quiver, and I’m about to burst. I break the kiss and look down before I search her eyes. It’s hardly a coincidence she’s so well prepared for me.
She holds my gaze, her face flushed, her eyes burning. I wish I could ponder a little more, but most of my blood is pooling south, and there’s not much left for my brain to compute.
She strokes me harder.
Smoothly, I slide my hand to her back, pull the zipper down, and peel the dress off. She glances at the divider window.
“Don’t worry! I only hire blind drivers,” I say.
The sound of her laughter sends a shiver down my back. I stare at her beautiful mouth, and her bouncing tits, her hand squeezing me, spurring more heat in my cock. I could light a fucking match with it.
She waves her body against mine, her crotch grinding against my dick, her breasts brushing my chest, her mouth sucking my tongue like it’s candy, and I’m about to lose the little control that I have.
She rocks me harder, and I pull her up and kiss the taunt skin of her stomach. She undulates teasingly, pushing her groin in my face, demanding my mouth on her.
I can’t wait to give her what she wants.
I grab her waist and lay her on the bench. Sprawled on her back, she bends her knees, observing me as I shift in my seat and lower my mouth between her thighs.
I press my lips and tongue on her swollen flesh, and she starts to moan and shudder, grinding as if her ass caught on fire.
This will be over in no time.
I grab her ass, press my mouth on her entrance and start tongue fucking her. She comes fiercely, rocking her hips against my face, clamping her hand over her mouth, squashing her scream.
I sink back into my seat, and she bounces back onto my lap. I have enough time to put a condom on before she straddles me again and slides down all the way, soaking me with her arousal.
She starts riding me, fast picking up the pace, and I wish I knew where she learned to fuck men so well, considering...
This is my last thought before I slip away with her. She fucks me hard, bringing me right to the edge, and then she slams me with all her force. She comes, moving sensually, groaning, digging her nails into my shoulders.
Crushing a growl, I burst inside her.
“Fucking shit, Thalia,” I say as she rolls off me and I keep stroking myself until I finally scale down.
A mysterious smile flutters across her lips like I need another riddle.
Panting, she crashes onto my chest. I grab my phone and text Steve. I barely finish texting when the car makes a sudden U-turn and picks up speed. I don’t even want to know.
I lift her dress off the floor. She doesn’t make a move.
“Are you okay?” I ask, a strange feeling hovering over me.
She nods and stretches a sad smile, and for some reason, my stomach hurts. Her long hair is damp and entangled, and her chest glistens with sweat.
“He can take you back to the hotel if you want.”
“Okay,” she says with a faint voice.
I help her put her dress on before she crashes into the corner and swings her eyes back to the window. I dispose of the condom, fix my jeans, throw my T-shirt back on, and shrug into my jacket.
Flushed, I rake my hands through my damp hair. I’m hot and cold, and for a reason I don’t quite understand, I’m restless.
Even more than before.
Soon, we pull backstage. I glance at her, but she doesn’t look at me. I jump out of the car and knock on the driver’s window. Steve cracks it open, his eyes connecting with mine.
“Take her to my suite.”
He nods softly, and the car glides away. I take a long breath and sneak inside.
6
I’ve ever never been so proud of myself as I am tonight.
Not even when I scored big, selling my first tech company a few years back. That was different, and it made sense, despite the fact that I was only a twenty-two-year-old nerd from Seattle.
To my surprise, I manage to keep myself together as I walk backstage although I still can’t get my mind around what just happened in that limo. I hit the back room, dazed, my skin hot as if I slept in a sauna.
Curious, Ron corners me, his eyes roaming over my face, a smile creasing his lips. The man can smell a steamy affair from a mile. It’s not hard, though.
Still flushed, I dab sweat off my face, unable to form a coherent sentence. The show hasn’t even started, and I look exhausted.
The better side of his brain advises him well, so he leaves me alone while I try to stay away from everybody else.
Moments later, I hit the stage, convinced I’m gonna blow it. For one, I can’t focus. Plus, I can’t remember the lyrics. The good thing is, I’m in a playful mood tonight, and what lacks in my performance, is being generously compensated by my sense of humor.
My energy is at an all-time high, and the crowd explodes at my feet. I’m pretty much playing it by ear, no pun intended, and to my surprise, the show is a smashing success. Apparently, I do everything right or so I’m told. I wouldn’t know. My head is not there.
The show ends on a high note literally and figuratively, and everybody’s happy, especially me for not screwing
it up for everyone else.
This is not the night to sneak out early, but I do it anyway, pretending I’m coming down with the flu. I look like someone who runs a fever anyway, and nobody wants to catch a nasty bug, not even from the star of the show.
I slip out the back door, climb in one of the SUVs and head straight to the hotel. I have no expectation to find her there, but hope dies last, so I rush. I skip the elevator and jog up the stairs, and a few minutes later I stop in front of my suite.
Quiet, I swipe my key card and crack the door open. I set my foot inside, and instantly pull back.
What the fuck?
I double check the door again, making sure I’m not on a different floor, trespassing some kid’s room. No, no. This is my suite. It’s just that there’s a sky filled with stars, gliding slowly over the walls. A soft melody pours in my ears. A lullaby?
I locate the small Cosmos projector responsible for the light show and glance at the bed. Naked, Thalia occupies half of my bed, the cover loosely crumpled around her hips.
She snores softly, her face buried in a pillow.
I let out a long, silent exhale. Shit. That’s not how I envisioned this evening. I know her since she was a little girl.
Five years younger than me, I lost her when I left for Seattle, and then I found her in LA, all grown up, a college girl.
On a whim, I offered her the job. Much to my surprise, she took it. And she excelled at it. Well, never in the way she did tonight, tough.
Live and learn, I guess.
I was fond of her since we were kids, but I never thought about her in that way. Okay, maybe, a little, when she told me she doesn’t like boys, but I blamed it mostly on my bruised ego.
Quiet, I shed out of my clothes, slip into the bathroom, and take a shower.
Twenty minutes later, I enter the bedroom, wearing only boxer shorts. Smooth like a feline, I sneak into the bed, making sure I stay on my side and don’t move much.
Her chest rises and falls rhythmically, her breaths rolling out, soft and even. I wish I could sleep, but my body is humming and buzzing, my mind spewing thoughts, feeding the turmoil that’s been brewing inside.
