Free Catch A Falling Superstar: A New Adult Erotic Romance by J. Emily Steen Page B

option open that evening. That look he had given my hips, even when badly disguised in baggy LuckyStop uniform pants, had sent a little surge of heat to my pussy.
    I did have nice and tight jeans, J Brand and everything, not too badly worn. I did my makeup with more care than I had put into it for months, then tidied up my bedroom, changing the beddings, just in case.
    The doorbell rang. I felt a spike of excitement and I wanted to run to get the door. Does one really let Hollywood stars wait on the porch? Calm down, girl, I told myself. It's just another guy. But I was unable to fool myself. This was not just another anything.
    I could have saved myself the effort. It was not Archer.
    It was an older man, wearing mom jeans and a military shirt with a wool hat. He looked clean enough, but his cheeks were hollow and his face unshaved. He looked like a hobo, more or less. I groaned inwardly. I had no time for this!
    “Can I help you?” I said, inserting a dismissive tone.
    “Ah, hey, miss,” he said in a flat, creaky voice, his eyes darting all over the place. “Ah been lookin' for Blue. She around?”
    “I'm sorry, looking for who?”
    “Yeah, I was told to go look for – uh – Blue. Suppos' ta live here in dis here house.”
    He had a little tremble going on in one hand. He didn't seem dangerous, just insecure. But Blue – that was Archer's name for me. What was going on here?
    “Who told you to look for Blue?” I asked suspiciously.
    “Why, God told me. He said, “go look for that Blue girl at 1010 Amlin Street.” You her, miss?”
    “ God told you? I think there must be some misunderstanding...”
    The man straightened and smirked with straight, white teeth.
    “Okay, Blue, I think this will work just fine,” he said in a familiar voice.
    “Archer?”
    “Sure. Didn't come up with a name for this character yet. Pretty convincing, huh? One of the perks of having a whole makeup department at your disposal. They loved the idea of making me sort of unrecognizable. Great fun for all. Except for you. Well, suck it up.”
    He winked, which seemed to be in character. Then he took a step closer and put his hand on the door frame and looked me over.
    “Turn around.”
    I did a quick 180 for him, then back again. He had a tone there that was a command, and it made me want to obey.
    “You look very nice. You did before too, of course. But most people would wear jeans better than a LuckyStop uniform. You absolutely do. So, where we going?”
    I had been trying to think of something, but it wasn't easy. What do superstars like?
    “What interests you? Not that much to see here. There's the fort, the many art galleries, the old buildings... Nothing big ever happened here, as far as I know. It's the dullest town in the state, probably. You being in town now will probably make headlines for months after.”
    “Suits me fine. Let's do something fun instead. Like, fourth grade fun. I know just the thing.”
    Somehow, now I knew it was him, I could see straight through the disguise and makeup. They had done a very good job with him. If you didn't know it was him, it would never cross your mind. Except...
    “You should probably do the voice when we're around people,” I suggested. “Your own is pretty distinct.”
    I locked the door behind me and put the key in my pocket. No way was I going to carry a purse for this.
    “Any transportation?” I ventured.
    He just pointed.
    “Ah. Nice,” I said.
    It was big and dark green, with some little matte and satiny details. It had no shiny chrome parts, and even the twin exhaust pipes were a dull black. It looked low and menacing, focused and dangerous. The rear wheel looked wide and slick. On the tank was the words Harley Davidson in discreet, gray letters. It was the manliest motorcycle I'd ever seen. No showing off here. This was for someone who knew what he was doing.
    It gave off metallic ticking noises as the metal cooled, as if it had just been driven long and hard.