Stricken Desire (14 page)

I slide out of bed and my pussy is gooey with
come. Time to pee and take a shower. I get into the bathroom and
yep it’s the same as before. Nothing different. I turn on the
shower and go pee then slide under the hot water. Oh it feels so
good on my skin. Rejuvenating. Maybe it will wash all the pain away
that I am now suddenly feeling. This pain in my chest I pray stops
aching soon. I can’t take it. I wish they had a pill for this but I
know what it is. This is what heartbreak actually feels like. Go
figure I’d know what self-loathing and heartbreak feels in less
than a week. Two and a half more weeks with him and then I will
finally catch a break. I need that break now. But it’ll have to
wait. I have no choice.

I dry off and get dressed in another one of
the approved outfits. Jean shorts, baby blue printed T that says
‘It’s only rock and roll but I like it.’ In black. I still wear
heels. It’s just my fashion style. I love them and I put on a pair
of black shiny ones. That I’ve owned for four years maybe longer.
They are uber-comfortable and only three inches, so I won’t kill
myself in them. I started wearing heels not because I really wanted
to but with being only five foot two in a family of giants I did it
to fit in. The three or four inches might not seem like much but
from my short stature it’s a big difference. You don’t realize that
height matters until you’re the only one in the crowd of ten, six
foot plus men and women and they don’t talk to you because you’re
short and they don’t see you. That’s happens to me a lot. Stacy god
love him has never done that to me. He’s always told me to embrace
our eleven inch height difference. I try so hard. I don’t actually
hate my shortness or anything about the way I look for that matter.
But in the professional world you don’t stand out as much. My red
hair helps some to bring the attention down to my level but sitting
in a boardroom meeting when my feet can’t even touch the floor.
It’s rather embarrassing and I feel under qualified because of my
childlike stature.

I snatch my phone out of my only purse. It’s
black and silver. I love this thing. It’s defiantly seen better
days. I’ve used it every day for the past three years. It fits me
and it fits my stuff or lack of stuff I should say. I don’t carry
much in the way of purses. Women tend to shuck and stock load of
garbage in their purses. I don’t. I do the essentials that’s it.
Lip gloss, wallet, my Nook, hand sanitizer, Kleenex, mints, my cell
and a pen. I don’t carry female hygiene products because my female
organs rarely make me bleed. It’s like once a year. I know a lot of
woman would be jumping up and down to be that way. But honestly I’d
rather bleed and know that I have a higher chance of being a mom
than the five percent the doctors gave me. My gyno Dr. Shells told
me if my problem keeps progressing as badly as it is I am going to
have to have my uterus and possibly my ovaries removed in the next
two to three years. The only person I’ve told this to was my mom. I
know Stacy would never understand and my mom’s a nurse so I
confided in her. I’m not saying it didn’t shatter her to hear her
only child can’t have children but I always figured since I’ve been
sixteen that I’d adopt. That’s when I found out about my condition
and it gets worse and the pain at times is debilitating. I have a
script to help with the pain but sometimes they don’t even work.
I’ve looked into adoption options. I figure if I don’t marry and
adopt with my husband by the age or thirty I will just do it on my
own. Some countries allow single parent adoption and I have a huge
binder back in NY with all the specifics.

I ring Stacy he picks up on the fours
ring.

“Hey Em, you finally decide to crawl out of
bed this morning?” he laughs into the phone. I have to pull it
away. He’s too loud.

“Yeah didn’t get to bed until late.” This
would be the time I’d chime in and say I had sex last night, but I
can’t. This secret is just going to have to be held between locked
lips.

I throw myself fully clothed onto the
bed.

“So what’s your plans today? We’re heading
out tonight.” He says and I can hear loudness in the background
like a hair dryer or something.

“What are you doing? And I thought we weren’t
leaving until tomorrow.”

“Oh… I’m doing nothing. I’m in my room. And
no I decided to leave today I ran it by the guys and they’re cool
with it. So we are pulling out at eight after we all hit dinner
together.”

Yep, he’s in his room alright and he’s not
alone. So much for pining away for me. Oh shit! Shut up you hussy.
You had a big cock in you last night. I can’t be getting all
overprotective and pissy. I have zero right.

“Do you have a lady friend?” I muse and
smile, fingering my wavy hair like a damn teenager talking to her
girlfriend lying on her bed all giddy and childlike. I’m
pathetic.

“Um… it’s not what you think Em. Please…
don’t.”

I cut him off. “Stace it’s okay. Don’t worry.
I’m glad you got jiggy with it last night. You needed the
release.”

He exhales loudly into the phone. I can tell
I just took a weight off his shoulders.

“It’s not 1997 anymore Em and you’re not Will
Smith. So for your sake and mine don’t ever call it that again.” He
chuckles. “But yes I did twice, actually. Guess it’s been pent up a
while.”

Yeah well I’m so not telling you I did it
twelve times last night after you left and it was with Johnathan
and he got off four times. Now that would be way too much
sharing.

“Whoa! TMI, I just asked about the sex I
don’t need the specifics. Except is she a blonde too?” I snicker
into the receiver.

“Well, to be honest. Nope.” He sounds okay.
He sounds like he likes that it wasn’t a blonde. Good for him! It’s
about damn time for him to change it up.

“I’m happy for you Stacy I want you happy
that’s all I ever want.”

“Thanks sweetie. I will catch you later.
Think we might hit it a few more times. He’s so… She’s so sexy.
I’ll text ya the details where to meet for dinner. Love ya.”

“Love you too Stace and you have fun.”

Oh my god! I think my best friend just told
me he does dudes too. I knew it! I knew he didn’t just fuck women.
I don’t think he’s gay. He can’t be. But he’s too emotional to be
completely straight. I’ve always had my suspicions but I’ve never
asked. I guess I never cared either way. I’ve heard him mention
tight and hard bodies before when he describes a date to me but
never a thing about that body having a cock between its legs and
not a pussy. But to think of it most women are soft and smooth not
hard and tight. I wonder is he a pitcher or a catcher? I am so
going to have to ask him that. It doesn’t matter but I can see
Stacy as a catcher big time. He’s got that sexiness to him like a
woman. His eyes seriously look like a woman’s. I’ve always been
jealous of them. A bi sexual best friend. How strange. But at the
same time I dig it. Maybe now I can talk to him about men too. Or
not. Shit, I dunno.

I’ve spent the entire day lounging in my
hotel room. Well not my entire day because I did sleep until
midafternoon. Stacy texted me the restaurants local around six and
we’re to meet up around eight. I’ve got James to drive me or that’s
what Stacy said. Not sure why he’s not driving the guys but he’s
not. I haven’t heard a peep out of Johnathan all day. No texts, no
knocks at my door. Nothing but silence. I can’t say it doesn’t
hurt, because it does. Bad. But at the same time I knew this was
happened. I shouldn’t have kidded myself thinking otherwise. That
was foolish on my part.

A knocks at my door. My stomach jumps into my
throat. Maybe it’s him!

I turn the nob and pull it open. James and
his big buff Taylor Lautner glory is standing on the other side of
the door decked out in all black a gun holstered across his chest.
Totally hot. Not my type but he would seriously make a woman
happy.

“Hey James.” I smile.

“Miss. Bronwyn” he nods. “I am here to escort
you to dinner tonight.” He holds out his arm. I dash back into the
room snatch up my purse and then tuck my arm into his.

“Should I get my bags?” I ask shutting the
door to my suite.

“No, that has already been arranged to be
picked up and taken back onto the bus.”

I ride down the elevator with my escort. The
elevator has three people in it when we step in and two of them are
very attractive women who can’t stop staring at him. I unlatch my
arm out of his and reach around to goose his ass. I am so going to
put a show on for these two women. Making them jealous is on my
list of things to do tonight. We ride down and he doesn’t say a
word and just lets me rub my arm along his and pinch his butt a few
more times. The woman are staring hard and I want to laugh but then
I’ll give my intentions away. They nearly sprint out of the car and
the man just looks back eyes me rather seductively and makes his
way to wherever.

I tuck my arm back into James’s and we head
out toward the Mercedes that I see is parked right outside.

“Sorry.” I muttered.

“Whatever for? Miss Bronwyn.” he cracks a
tiny smile out of the corner of his mouth.

“The women in the elevator were ogling you I
just thought it only appropriate to put a little show on for them.
To make them jealous. I know that wasn’t nice of me. But I’ve had a
few rough days.”

He opens the car door for me.

“You’re welcome to touch me however you
please Miss.” He nods.

“James don’t be like that.” I touch his arm
that’s rested on the door frame. “If you don’t want to me to do
that you can tell me no. I promise I won’t tattle.”

I slide in the back.

“Miss Bronwyn if I had a problem. Trust me
I’d let you know.” He winks and shuts the door.

We drive five blocks or it seems about that
far and we pull out front of a brick front pizzeria with the name
‘Angelos’ on the front in big red letters. The paps are stationed
outside only a handful of them and maybe ten fans. I am sure more
are about to show up but that’s the name of the game. James let me
out and escorts me to the door. A pap throws a voice recorder in my
way.

“Miss Bronwyn, Miss Bronwyn. Sources say you
and Johnathan Striker are a couple now. Do you have a comment?” the
neatly dressed pap asks.

James leans down and whispers in my ear. “You
don’t have to say a thing if you don’t want to.”

I nod understanding that I don’t have to. But
I want to make this clear.

“What’s your name?” I ask the pap.

“Rachel. Miss. Bronwyn.” She smiles. Yeah,
she knows it’s coming. An exclusive with the same woman who socked
Johnathan the lead singer of Stricken in the nose. She’s going to
make so much money over this. Well good for her. Right place, right
time, I guess.

“Well Rachel, Mr. Striker and I are NOT in a
relationship at this time. Nor have we been before. I am the bands
Co-Manager for this tour. That is all.”

“Do you want to date him? Or does he you?”
she presses on.

“I cannot comment for Mr. Striker you know
that Rachel. But for myself I do not know what I want at this
time.” I turn and leave and head into the pizzeria my arm tucked
into James.

I hear “Thank you! Thank you!” being shouted
from Rachel who’s still crowded outside the door.

“Please tell me you did not just give a pap a
real quote!” Johnathan snaps as soon as I walk into the door. He’s
standing there waiting for me. Sexier than the night before in a
white button down dress shirt slouched up to his elbows, a pair of
dark denim ripped jeans, a fancy watch and dark brown flip-flops
with a matching belt. Sex on a stick in living and breathing pissed
off-color. The other men are stuffed into a giant booth in the back
paying no mind to us with a few women tucked under their arms.
Stacy has one too. But I am sure it’s a new one because I am
positive the one from this morning was a dude and not a chick. Has
to keep up appearances I suppose.

“Yep I did.” Johnathan observes my arm tucked
into James and points a blank stare at his bodyguard. James slips
away and I am stuck dealing with macho man with an attitude
problem.

“Why? Why would you do that?” he shakes his
head. He looks confused. That makes two of us. I am confused as to
why he would even care. He’s the one that left me this morning
after we made love all damn nightlong. Not that I am bitter or
anything. I mean I knew it was coming. But shit, it doesn’t hurt
any less and standing in front of him looking this hot is like
rubbing salt in my wounds.

“They asked me if I was your girlfriend and I
told them no. I didn’t think that was a problem.” I shrug and tilt
my head to the side to peer around him at the guys engrossed in
conversation in the empty pizzeria.

I glance up at him and he looks seriously
pained.

“Did this morning mean nothing to you?” he
says quietly. His voice is dull and full of melancholy.

“Yes... Of course it did. A lot actually. But
I know what is was for you and I’ve already made my peace with that
so let’s just pretend this never happened and get on with dinner
shall we?” I whisper harshly, staring at his chest avoiding his
gaze. I can sense it boring into me.

“Okay we will eat but this conversation is
not over.”

“Never is.” I say to have the last word and
scoot around the side of him and sit next to Stacy who
instinctively throws his arm over my shoulder. Johnathan takes his
seat at the end of the table on a chair he slides up.

“Hey yo, J man why’d you ditch us last night?
Missed ya bud. We got hooked up with these hotties and a few others
had us a big fucking orgy and Keith’s room.” He eyes all the women
at the table except me. Yeah I know I wasn’t there jackass I was
fucking your buddy in my hotel room.