Free Stricken Desire by S.K. Logsdon Page B

carpet.
    “You ready for this?” he whispers close to my
ear. The hair on the back of my neck excitedly stands
attention.
    “As ready as I’ll ever be.” I say
confidently. Even though I am anything but. I can handle crowds as
long as they aren’t touching or bumping into me. Although when I’m
touched repeatedly by unknown men and woman I worry about where
their hands have been. I know that may sound stupid. But I can’t
help that the way I feel. Urine, semen, food, germs, fecal matter,
sweat and more all live and breed on a person’s fingers. That’s why
I wash my hands like it’s going out of style. The thought of having
that nasty stuff rubbed on me make my stomach turn.
    Four steps into the line up to get into the
club and we are instantly bombarded with flash photography from
every direction. My eyes can’t take it. This is crazy. I can see
spots in my line of sight. No idea why they insist on taking
Stacy’s and my photo. But they do over and over again.
    On our way in I see another Mercedes stop at
the entrance out of the corner of my eye. James gets out of the
driver side and the crowd goes wild realizing who is in the car.
James full body blocks Johnathan when he disembarks from the back
of the car along with D, Keith and Price. The hoard of fans scream
and the paparazzi shoot photos one snapshot after the other. It’s
quite ridiculous really. I am sure there are hundreds of thousands
of photos of Stricken all over the wonderful World Wide Web. But
they have to snap another five hundred tonight. It’s not like they
look any different and there I-fuck-anything-with-a-pussy persona
is well-known and documented time and time again. What’s another
picture with a slutty brunette with big fake boobs and hooker
heels? It gets old quick. That’s why I don’t do tabloids or gossip
mags. It’s all bull crap anyhow.
    “Come Em, let’s get you inside.” Stacy says
placing his hand on the curve of my lower back pushing me forward.
I take two more steps and a bunch of loud over-the-top yelling
breaks out. I peer back again and who would have guessed it.
Johnathan is plowing past James and headed straight for us.
    “Emily!” he yells and this time I can hear
him. I stop completely. Stacy doesn’t I feel him press his hand
firmly against my back to try and make me move into the club. I
don’t budge. My feet glued in place.
    Two more long strides in black motorcycle
boots and Johnathan is now standing in front of me out of breath
and looking fine as hell. He glares at Stacy again. I pretty
certain he’s still angry about earlier. I’m not, I have no choice
but to move on from it. Or lose Stacy and that’s never going to
happen.
    “Can I help you?” I raise both my brows. I
now have lines on my forehead I can feel them. Call the Botox
doctors, Em has lines!
    Seeing him standing toe to toe with me is
seriously amusing. I can see the headlines now. ‘ Rock star
misogynist extraordinaire pushes through crowd to seek out midget
redhead. ’ Well it probably won’t add the misogynist part but it
should. Yep, our pictures will be in the papers tomorrow. Big time!
Johnathan towers over me. I feel like a minnow next to a great
white shark. Bait meet prey he’ll eat you up and spit you back out
tomorrow because he wants another minnow that’s prettier and sucks
better barnacles. Gosh, could I be any more of a bitch? I think
it’s automatic with this man. He brings it out in me. That and
soaking panties. What a really screwed up combo that is.
    “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He
latches his hand onto the crook of my elbow and pulls me closer to
him and out of Stacy’s grasp. I can’t see Stacy but I can imagine
he’s angry right about now. I can’t stop staring up into the giant
rockers eyes. In this dim light the club sign eludes gives his eyes
this bluish green crystal like appearance and they are even more
breathtakingly beautiful.
    “I’m fine big man.” I pat him gently on the
chest.