When Fangirls Lie

by Marian Tee

  The way Staffan gazed at her, the way he devoured her with his eyes, left Saffi befuddled with desire. She stood there, frozen, one hand clutching her top, not knowing where to put it. Should she just drop it to the floor? Should she fold it and lay it on the table?

  “Drop it---”

  Saffi relaxed, eager for Staffan to take command.

  “With your bra.”

  Oh.

  “Umm…now?”

  He raised a brow again. “When else?”

  Right.

  Dropping her top, she reached out from behind to unhook her bra. The hook gave way too easily, not providing her any time to get more of her bearing back.

  The bra finally fell, and Staffan swallowed back a groan at the sight of Saffi’s bare breasts. Fuck. They were the loveliest sight he had ever seen, pale, full, with rosy nipples that begged to be sucked. In the three months he had been fucking stalking her in Facebook, there were nights he had imagined seeing Saffi March naked, her eyes nearly dilated with desire as she touched herself before him. Those were the times he had been forced to pleasure himself. He had to. No other woman had aroused him ever since he had talked to Saffi on the phone.

  He really was fucking obsessed with Saffi March, and now he was finally going to make her his.

  Staffan crooked a finger.

  Trembling with excitement and shyness, she took one small step towards him.

  The door burst open, followed by the entire group of Staffan’s backup dancers flooding in.

  She shrieked just as the boisterous group finally noticed her, jaws dropping, their celebratory shouts cut off. Somewhere from behind, a champagne cork popped open, followed by a nervously muttered ‘shit’.

  Staffan instinctively snatched Saffi close, his arms going around her as he pulled her tightly against him. Her bare breasts pressed hard against his chest, and he bit back a groan just as one of his dancers gasped.

  “Sapphire?”

  The girl in his arms whimpered.

  Staffan glared at the dancer – a younger lean dark haired man who was too bloody handsome for his own good. He decided then and there the other man – Alan Carson –would not be allowed anywhere within a ten-foot radius from Saffi.

  Who apparently was also known as Sapphire. So that was where “Saffi” came from. The thought that Carson knew more than he did about Saffi irked. “Everyone get the fuck out of here,” he growled.

  “We’re sorry,” Eddie – his head choreographer –muttered. “One of the Gs went to our dressing room and told us you were…errr…done.”

  The Traitor had struck again, Saffi thought, followed by the realization that everyone in this room now knew what she and Staffan had been about to do. Worse, one of those dancers apparently knew her – the real her. Saffi squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment.

  Staffan glanced down at Saffi when the door closed on the last of his backup. Her eyes were still closed, her face flushed red. “Sapphire?” he asked, wondering if she’d finally admit it now.

  Her eyes flew open. “Umm…just another one of my nicknames.”

  So she was still going to lie about it, Staffan thought with a frown. What was her angle? Why was she pretending? Any other girl would have been more than proud to tell him about their connection – no matter how flimsy it was.

  She wriggled in his arms, a little intimidated by his frown.

  Staffan was immediately distracted, his dick demanding release.

  He took hold of her chin, making Saffi look up at him. “Shall we continue?” he asked, deliberately using his voice to seduce her.

  She gulped. “N-now?” Saffi could still hear noise outside. It was loud – very much so, and she knew it meant that most – maybe all – of his backup were still there, waiting.

  Staffan raised a brow.

  She was beginning to understand that it was his way of responding to questions he considered stupid.

  “Do you want me to choose another?”

  NO!

  When Staffan’s eyes widened, Saffi realized she had said the word out loud – and more vehemently than she planned. To cover her embarrassment, she impulsively tiptoed and kissed him.

  That was the last thing she remembered consciously doing before Staffan completely took over. His tongue demanded entrance, and her lips parted obediently under his mouth. She gasped when his tongue slipped in. She couldn’t help making the sound since this was her first kiss, too.

  Saffi’s arms locked around his neck, moving on its own accord, causing her to press her breasts more closely against his chest.

  Staffan groaned against Saffi’s lips, the pinprick points of her nipples arousing him to even greater heights until he was literally aching with need to bury himself inside her hot moist depths.

  “Are you wet for me?” he whispered against her lips.

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  He let his lips trail down slowly, taking his time, loving the fact that he was finally able to hold in his arms the girl he had been mentally fucking for three months. As he nuzzled her neck, Staffan asked, “How much do you want me?”

  “More than anything else in this world,” she moaned out, her head falling back as he sucked at her neck. She moaned again as Staffan nipped her neck.

  “Then prove it.” He moved down, nuzzling the valley between her breasts, cupping the flesh without touching her nipples.

  “H-how?”

  “Make me hear how much you want me.”

  Her eyes flew open, but before she could even ask what Staffan meant, he had squeezed one breast hard, taking it close to his mouth so he could take her entire nipple in. And then he started to suck.

  She moaned with abandon.

  “Just like that,” he growled, sucking on her nipple harder.

  “B-but…” Everyone was still outside. They would be able to hear her. Didn’t he know that? Didn’t he---

  Saffi moaned again, the pleasure driving her crazy as Staffan moved to suck her other nipple while squeezing the breast he had just abandoned and pinching its tip.

  “Louder, H.”

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t make me choose another.” It was a lie, but Staffan knew she would be too innocent to realize how far gone he was. No man as aroused as he was would be able to pull away at this point.

  She shook her head again, more wildly this time, even as her eyes begged him not to leave her.

  He released her nipple but squeezing both breasts this time, as hard as he could without hurting her. And then he drew on both her nipples, pulling them as far as she could. “Scream, H.”

  Saffi obeyed, mindless with passion, her only thought to follow his every command because she knew what he wanted would be oh so good for them both.

  Staffan gripped her hair, eliciting a squeak of surprise from her, just before he took her lips for a bruising hard kiss. “Say my name.”

  “Staffan,” she whispered.

  Incredibly, he shuddered against her, and the knowledge that he was also aroused only fed her desire. “Staffan.” She said it again, this time as a moan.

  He dropped to his knees, flipping her skirt up and cursing when he realized that she did mean it. She had no panties on.

  She blushed, seeing him stare at her naked body. “They were too wet and I was uncomfortable wearing them.” Saffi tried not to stumble all over her explanation but failed.

  He had fucking gone to heaven.

  Min himmel, he thought possessively. And she would always be his.

  “This time, baby, I want you to scream as loudly as you can or I’ll be very disappointed.”

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  He started to lick her, long, slow, and hard, leaving no inch of her wet folds untouched.

  Saffi ended up screaming instead.

  Her hands found his hair and she started to pull and push, not knowing what she wanted. All she knew was that he was making her feel too good that it was driving her insane, making her breathless and wanton. Saffi
screamed again, louder than ever, as he moved up, just enough for his mouth to close on her clit, this time without any lacy barriers between his lips and her flesh.

  Her head lolled back. “Staffan,” she begged.

  “Yes, baby.”

  Even as he licked her, he was already fumbling for his pants, groaning against her folds when he finally managed to release himself.

  The wet slapping sounds penetrated her mind – barely – just enough for her to look down at Staffan with eyes dazed with desire.

  He was pleasuring himself.

  It was enough to send her over the edge.

  “Fuck!” Staffan was stunned when Saffi suddenly came in his mouth. He drank her in, his eyes lifting up to her. She was already staring at him, her eyes wide. Realizing that she had actually come because she had seen Staffan jerk himself was too much. With a few furiously fast strokes of his dick, he was coming as well, his groans mingling with her soft whimpers.

  Saffi swayed in her feet, the explosive pleasure she had experienced, coupled with the excitement of what happened in the few hours past, proving to be too much.

  “Hey.” Staffan quickly rose to his feet and steadied her.

  She could only respond with a weak, still-dazed smile. Had what happened --- really happened?

  Oh, she was so convinced now. Staffan Aehrenthal definitely had to be the one to take her virginity. No man would ever compare to him after this. She would die a virgin if he wasn’t the one to take it.

  Staffan gently took her to the couch, wiping her clean with a wet towel. When he left her, she could only stare at him, mesmerized at how even more beautiful he was when he was naked, all golden muscles, sleek lines, and that massive tattoo on his spine, a majestic-looking dragon in fiery shades rising from the waters.

  She sighed.

  He glanced at Saffi at the sound, and the soft look on her face made his cock harden once more. He liked the idea that he was the one to put that look on her face. And this weekend, if he had his way, that was how Saffi was going to look. Every. Fucking. Second.

  After dressing himself, he took out a trench coat from the racks. “Let’s get you into this---” He managed to stop himself from calling her Saffi.

  Saffi shyly rose to her feet, feeling absolutely cherished as Staffan carefully helped her into his coat before pulling both sides tightly close and knotting its belt just as tightly.

  “Ready?” The smile he sent her way was dazzling.

  “Umm…just…” She gave up trying to make sense and simply hurried around the room, picking her bra and stuffing it in one pocket while her cropped top went to the other pocket. She gnawed at her lip, feeling like she had forgotten something.

  “Are you looking for this?” Staffan held her wristlet bag up with two fingers.

  “Oh. Yes. Thanks.” She stuffed it into her pocket with a blush even as she mentally berated herself for being such an airhead and acting like a freaking novice! She was supposed to be an experienced slut, for heaven’s sake!

  Staffan took her hand as he led her out of the dressing room. Outside, her embarrassment came back tenfold when she saw everyone smirking at her. Oh my God. They knew. And then she saw Alan Carson and became even more embarrassed. Both of them shared the same hometown, had attended the same high school, and he knew everything about her since his family was in politics, too.

  Staffan saw the look of shock and worry in Saffi’s eyes when she saw Carson. He stiffened. Did she care about what the little twerp thought? Jealousy bit at him and he asked sharply, “Is something the matter?”

  She jumped at the curt and almost angry sound of his voice. This man might not literally be a rockstar – Staffan didn’t sing rock but most of his American fans, after seeing his tattoo, liked to think of him as one - but he definitely had the temperament of one. He blew hot and cold so quickly he left her whirling.

  Maybe he was beginning to question her disguise. Maybe he had sensed her embarrassment and was starting to doubt her identity as a groupie. Maybe he was getting bored with her because he realized he had done most of the work – twice – while she just stood there and waited for him to pleasure her.

  Nervous as heck now, Saffi dug into her pocket to get some gum from her wristlet. In the movies, she saw Gs snapping gum all the time so maybe she should do it, too.

  When she pulled out her gum, the bra came with it and fell to the floor.

  Everyone fell silent again.

  She desperately wanted to kill herself but for the love of Staffan Aehrenthal, she was just going to…ride this one out.

  When it was clear she wasn’t going to pick it up, Staffan mentally rolled his eyes even as he crouched down to pick it up. But instead of giving it to Saffi, which she clearly expected him to do, he put it in his own pocket.

  Her eyes widened, and it was clear on her face she was doing her best not to show more embarrassment.

  Why was she so determined to pretend being someone else?

  Staffan had her bra. Oh my dear Sex God---no wait the Sex God had her bra. If Saffi didn’t do something quickly, she was going to faint. Remembering the gum in her hand, she quickly popped it into her mouth. She tried blowing a bubble with it, like how Gs did in movies, but it burst back into her mouth instead like a pink sticky web.

  Everyone burst into laughter.

  Amusement won over exasperation this time, tempting Staffan to smile as he watched Saffi hurriedly spit the gum out and discarded it in a piece of tissue she crumpled into a ball before throwing away. No matter what she did, Saffi just wasn’t cut out to be a hardcore G. Still watching her, he was surprised to see her smile at someone. His eyes followed her line of sight and he stiffened when he saw Alan Carson smiling at his Saffi ruefully.

  Staffan reacted instinctively. He pulled Saffi back to him, hand curling around her nape. His lips went down on her as her body slammed close against him.

  Saffi’s gasp ended as a whimper as Staffan surprised her with an open mouthed kiss, one so blazingly carnal it made her eyes close, heart hitch, and her toes curl.

  Mine, his kiss said.

  And yet that was not enough.

  When he lifted his head, he stared down at Saffi, his face hard. “When you’re with me, I want you to look at me and just me. I want you to think of me and just me. You’re mine, every inch of you is fucking mine. Understand?”

  His voice rang loud and clear, the tone of possessiveness in it unmistakable, and her stupid silly fangirl heart couldn’t help but be thrilled. Saffi wanted to say ‘yes’ but was afraid it would come out all gushing and adoring, and she’d sound like the fangirl she really was.

  Unable to trust herself with words at the moment, she nervously popped another piece of gum into her mouth to blow another bubble. This time it worked, and she gave him a thumbs-up in answer.

  The crowd laughed once more, but even so she kept her gaze on Staffan. Yours, she tried telling him with her eyes.

  He stared at her for a moment---before throwing his back head in laughter.

  She relaxed, toes curling again at the look of tender possessiveness that had lit his hazel eyes ever so briefly.

  Staffan pulled her close as he walked them out of the hall, one arm around her waist, fingers splayed on her hip as if wanting to mark her his with every second. He glanced down at Saffi, who was so small her head didn’t even reach his shoulder.

  Ah, Saffi March.

  I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of you.

  Chapter Four

  I’m determined to find out why this is called Sin City.

  Saffi March checked in at McCarran International Airport, Las Vegas, Nevada

  154 likes.

  Aehrenthal Fanatics commented, You go, slut! =P -

  “Excuse me, I need to talk to Alan Carson? Do you know where he is?” Even to her ears, the question sounded surreal. A plane wasn’t supposed to be like a freaking mall a person would get lost in it but that was exactly what had happened.

  Staffan’s priv
ate jet was beyond the stretch of her imagination. All the walls were covered in cream leather and wood panels. The jet also had its own game room and library and of course a recording studio. Not even the greatest rockstars could afford this, but of course Staffan wasn’t just a rockstar. His stepfather also happened to head one of the world’s most famous resort and theme park corporations, and it was no secret that the billionaire CEO thought of Staffan as his own son.

  Her parents were embarrassingly rich as well, but Pearl’s conservative upbringing ensured that all of them kept a low profile. Only Steel traveled on his own private jet but only for emergency occasions. And since he was tempered by their mother’s Americanized ideas of noblesse oblige, Steel’s jet was also a lot smaller than this.

  The four people in the cabin she had sort of trespassed her way into were gawking. Finally, the only lady in the group – a pink-haired woman whose bubble-blowing skills Saffi envied – popped her gum and said, “I think he’s with the tech crew at the very back. Just go straight. You’ll see all the electronic stuff and that’s the right place.”

  “Thanks!” She gave them a quick awkward smile, trying not to mind how they were still gawking before speeding further down the plane.

  Behind her, Saffi was unaware that the four people had already scrambled out of the cabin, intent on spreading the word that the boss’ newest G had “left the building” in search of her boy toy Alan Carson.

  Saffi chewed her lip. By now, Staffan would probably be wondering why it was taking her so long to get back to him. Saffi had only excused herself to go to the restroom, but in truth she just felt it wasn’t right for her to hang out with him. Although they weren’t alone, the others – like Eddie, his choreographer, and the rest of his vocal backups – had something important to contribute to the tour. She didn’t.

  When she finally reached the area where the tech crew was checking the equipment, there was no sign of Alan. All ten of them came to a standstill at the sight of her. “Excuse me. Is Alan Carson around?”

  They silently pointed to the door at the back, still gaping. Her head bobbing in thanks, she sped past them, again not seeing how everyone was in a mad scramble to spread the word among the rest of the crew that the Sex God seemed to have lost his touch.