Tags:
alpha male,
rock star,
rock band,
sexual contract,
rock arrangment,
rock star sex,
frottage,
mile high club,
rock star romance,
sex on an airplane,
rock star erotica,
cumshot
start a new trend.
“A bad trend. How bad are you going to feel when someone gets their head bitten off because they needed a dog like... like that?”
Zodiac drooled complacently.
“Zodiac wouldn't hurt a fly...”
I sighed and tuned out the conversation and stared out the window at the desert passing me by. Zodiac wandered over to me, but I was too exhausted to push him away, so when he wormed his enormous skull underneath my hand for a pet, I scratched his ears and watched the scenery.
I started awake what seemed like only seconds later, but as I blinked to get my bearings I realized I was alone in the back of the limo with Kent. The light had changed to darkness and streetlights. Bolting upright, I glanced out the window and saw we had arrived at the airport. I must have actually fallen asleep. Embarrassed, I put my hands to my face and found I was pathetically grateful that I hadn't drooled all over myself. “Where's everyone else?” I demanded before I could stop myself. “And have you been sitting there watching me sleep?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I've been catching up on my emails.” He flashed his phone at me. “You looked so tired I decided to let you sleep after the others disembarked.
I peered around the limo. “What happened to the dog?”
Kent sighed. “Carter is getting in a far cheaper car than this one and driving him home. As for Mr. Seller, I thanked him for showing up, but let him know his services would not be needed.”
Mr. Seller? I thought groggily. Who the fuck is that? Then I realized it must be Randy. Poor Randy. He really was so desperate.
“So, uh...Does this mean I got the job?” I asked.
Silence fell as Kent leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers in front of his chest. He still wore his crumpled suit, but the top buttons of his shirt were now undone, and I could see the delicious little triangle of skin flashing at me from beneath the cotton. I tried not to think about what it might taste like.
I dragged my eyes back to his, and I saw that his gaze was lingering on me in much the same fashion. My coat had fallen open, and my breasts—always a tad too big for my frame—thrust against the drooping material of my tube top. It would take nothing for him to lean over and slip it down, take my breast in his hand and swirl that rough, demanding tongue over my hard little nipple—
It was suddenly very hot and stuffy inside the limo, and I shifted uncomfortably as I felt my nipples harden in response to my ill-considered fantasies. I prayed the light was low enough that Kent wouldn't see.
He lifted one leg and crossed his ankle over his knee. I took this as a sign that he needed to hide his own response to me.
I licked my lips.
“I'm afraid the job position is no longer available,” Kent said suddenly.
To my disappointment and disgust, I felt my heart drop. No, I hadn't wanted to babysit a grown man... but I also needed that money. And having Kent as my boss would suck in some ways... and hopefully suck in far better ways, too. “Oh,” I said, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice. “I see. Thank you for considering me, then. I'll just, uh... go home, then...” I put my hand on the door handle.
Kent held up a hand. “I didn't say that you would not be offered a job,” he said. “But it is a bit different. More rigorous. And you would be thrown into the spotlight if you took it.”
Ominous. But intriguing. “What do you mean?” I asked. “You're not going to offer me a position in the band, are you? Because I only play the triangle and the recorder, and I do both really badly...
“No,” he said. “I would like to contract your services still as Carter's handler.”
I blinked. “Then what's different about it?”
A thin smile sliced across his pouty lips. Humorless. Somehow painful.
“Not just babysitter,” he said. “I would like to contract you as a girlfriend. For Carter.”
––––––––
T o be continued