Stricken Desire (3 page)

“Yeah I’m getting them. The lady we’re living
with is in here. Give me sex. I mean sec.” He laughs eyeing me. “I
need those.” He points to the box of condoms.

I blush fifty shades of red and turn to the
side for him to retrieve them.

“Thanks.” He says exiting the bath with a
giant handful of the Trojans. “I got em. Let’s hit it.” He says to
someone other than me.

I get ready to step out of the bath towel
fully intact and he comes back and pops his head in.

“You coming tonight Bella?” he asks.

I shake my head yes “But I’m Emily.”

“I know that. But you are beautiful.” He runs
his eyes up and down me again, licks his lips and ducts out again.
Thank the lord. My hearts beating fifty miles an hour. Close
quarters with rockers is going to be harder than I thought.

Pulling up outside Club 9 with Stacy and our
bodyguard chauffer James, who looks like a beefier vision of Taylor
Lautner. The outside of the club is packed with groupies, the same
sleazy sluts that were at the concert. Yuck. But I know I have to
get used to seeing this. It isn’t going to be the first or last
time I am stuck viewing boobs and pussies from a distance. As long
as they don’t touch me I’m going to be okay. Or I hope.

Stacy grabs my hand and escorts me from the
black tinted window Mercedes. I love riding in style. But I love
driving my truck even more. I have a black 80’s version suburban I
ride around in back home in Indiana. Well it’s my dad’s now that I
don’t live at home but I still love it and I refuse to let him sell
it. So it sits in our barn collecting dust.

Pushing through the mass of people. James
leads the way and gently nudges anyone in our path. I might have to
buy him a fruit basket one of these days.

“You look very nice.” Stacy compliments once
we get inside.

I’m glad he finally approves of my outfit. I
went a little out of my comfort zone and threw on a pair of faded
jeans that hug rather tightly against my big butt and a fitted pink
t-shirt which now gives a full view of my arm tattoo. Yes, nobody
would have guessed little short straight-laced Em would have a
tattoo. But I do, I have four actually. My right arm is half
sleeved down to my elbow with flowers and a few other intricate
details. All done in full color. I sat over thirty hours for that
one. I have a small cupcake on the top of my left foot, a tramp
stamp on my lower back that I got when I was eighteen. And a small
butterfly on my left hipbone that burned so bad when I got it done
that I’ll never ever get another tattoo on my stomach area
again.

The club is to capacity. It’s huge,
wall-to-wall with people. The floor is like black lacquer and the
ceiling is industrial full of colorful lights. The bar wraps around
the entire east wall and it’s black too. Music is loud and a mix of
modern jams. I spot Johnathan instantly only because that’s where
most of the women are flocking to. I can’t blame them. He’s easily
six five, built like a brick shit house, tattoos sleeve his arms
and I’m sure other places too. His hair is dark brown spiked into a
short faux hawk. Big lips and has green eyes similar to mine.
Dreamy as all get out. And what do you know we have our own little
group of sexy women headed our way. Yep, Stacy’s hot too.

“Go get some tail.” I lean over and utter
into his ear, smacking him hard on the ass.

“I’m not leaving you in here. I learned my
lesson.”

“Screw that. I told you Stacy I’m going to
have to learn to get down with the party scene. I’ve never done
much of it before. But I’ll do it. Now do what you do best and fuck
some hot chicks.” I smile.

“You’re the best.” He leans down and kisses
me cheek and heads off toward the hoard of women headed straight
for us. Cutting them off once he reaches them and wraps his arms
around there necks. Tilting his head back he glances over his
shoulder to me and mouths ‘thank you’. I wave him off and flash him
a big over-the-top smile.

“So you and Stacy really don’t fuck do you?”
I hear a voice say next to my ear. I turn and find one of the
guitar players of the band talking to me.

“No we don’t. Never have and never will.”

“Names Keith.” He says holding his hand out
for me to shake.

“Emily.” I shake it quick and firm.

“Nice to meet you Emily.” He smiles.

Man, his mouth is perfect too. His hair is
blonde, lighter than Stacy’s and it’s straight and spiked. His arms
are also cloaked in tattoos and so is his neck. Total rock star
persona radiates from him. But I’ve never heard Stacy say that he’s
a womanizing dick. Like Johnathan. I am sure he screws a lot of
women. But at least he hasn’t insulted me. Brownie points for
him.

“You too.” I smirk.

“I love your ink.” he brushes the back of his
hand over tattoo. Goose bumps rise all over my body head to toe. I
haven’t been touched-touched by a man in probably a year. My one
and only serious boyfriend ended nearly two years ago and I’ve only
ever had sex with him. We dated for a little over eight months and
when I found him kissing another woman in a coffee shop on my way
to work I broke up with him. He begged me to stay and said he was
sorry. But I dumped Chris and ever since I’ve been single. I’ve
dated a few times here or there. Set up a couple of times on blind
dates. My mom insists I date at least twice a year. So I do for her
sake. I’ve kissed a lot of frogs in my life but I’ve never gotten
oral or given it. Chris was straight laced and vanilla. We had sex
maybe ten times while we were together because we didn’t start
until six months in. He was afraid to pop my cherry. Which hurt
like a son of a bitch. But after that I loved to have sex. Although
ever since I caught him with that other woman I can’t say that I’ve
been excited to allow somebody back into my bed or my heart.
Stacy’s only been the man in my life next to my dad. I like it that
way. He’s strong and he doesn’t try to fuck me. Plus he knows I’ve
only ever slept with one man and doesn’t try to pressure me to
sleep with others. Our friendship works great. I support his
horniness and he supports my lack thereof.

“Thanks.” I say to Keith.

“Want to get a drink?” the blonde guitarist
asks.

“Sure.” I gesture with my hand for him to
lead the way.

Placing his hand on my elbow he escorts me
through the mass of people filling the entire club. I can’t see
Stacy anywhere and Johnathan rock star misogynist extraordinaire
hasn’t moved. Except now he’s got a big boobed bottled blonde on
his lap and his hand is up her plaid skirt. I want to yack.

“So what’ll it be?” A tall brunette bartender
asks.

“I’ll have a bud and she’ll have?” Keith
looks at me.

“A fuzzy navel double on the schnapps and a
shot of tequila with a lemon and some salt.” I rattle off. Keith
looks at me like I have two heads. “What?” I shrug.

I know what I want so sue me.

“Make that six tequila shots and all the
rest.” He smiles at the beautiful woman. “Oh and put it on
Johnathan Strikers tab.” He turns and winks at me. And I can’t help
but giggle like a giddy schoolgirl.

It doesn’t take long for the shots to appear
in front of us along with salt, a few lemon wedges on a napkin and
our other drinks. I lean on the bar and sip out of the tiny straw
and Keith chugs his beer.

“So… ready to do some shots?” he winks,
slamming his empty beer bottle down on the bar.

“I was born ready.” I wiggle my hips.

“Why don’t you use lime?” he eyes the lemons
with a raised brow.

“I hate the taste. It’s nasty. Trust me it’s
better with a lemon.” I coax and gently place my hand on his
tattooed arm. He looks down upon my hand and back up at me with a
giant toothy smile. A surge of electrical energy bursts through me
ending not so conveniently between my legs.

I slide him over one shot and the saltshaker
and divide the lemons between us. Pushing my hair out of my face. I
lick my hand douse it with a shake of salt, lift my shot and he
follows suit. We clink our glasses together lick our own hands and
fires back the first round of lick, drink, suck. It tingles all the
way down firing my belly-up at its destination. I know drinking
tequila isn’t the best choice of drink for me because I’ll be
sweating like a whore in a church by the end of the night. It warms
me up like something fierce but I LOVE it.

“What do you think of the lemon?”

“It was better than I expected. You have good
taste.” He smiles running his hand over my forearm again. Just as
somebody from behind grabs a palm full of my ass. I turn to see who
the culprit is and somehow Keith already has his hands locked on
the man’s bicep. His eyes are huge with fear. I would be too if
Keith grabbed me like that.

“You! Will apologize for groping my friend’s
ass.” He states rather loudly, his voice is dark and dangerous.
Wow, I feel special to have someone stick up for me like this. It’s
kind of hot.

“It’s okay Keith.” I touch his chest. Oh my,
it’s like a rock too. What the hell is with these men and having
rock hard bodies? Johnathan, Stacy and now Keith. I think I might
have just died and gone to heaven.

“No it’s not!” he stares daggers at my ass
grabber.

“You won’t do it again will you mister?” I
ask rather calmly. Although I’ve got hot butterflies tingling in my
tummy thanks to this superhot rock star manhandling a guy for me.
This is a first.

The man shakes his head without a word and
looks like he might piss his pants. I reach over with my hand and
take hold of Keith’s removing its firm grip on the man and with my
other I shoo the ass grabber off.

“You’re lucky she’s nice asshole because I’ve
half tempted to kick your ass.” He shouts giving the ass grabber
another menacing look. Damn he’s so hot.

Looking down I realize I haven’t taken my
hand off of Keith’s and he’s folding his fingers with mine. Cue the
sparks, again. Looking deep into my eyes with a smirk I think he
might lean over and kiss me. Shit, I hope he does. I refuse to make
the first move. I can’t look like a complete hussy. I’m not one at
all for that matter but he doesn’t know that.

“Hey I thought I just heard your ass yelling
at some dude. What the fuck was that all about?” Johnathan asks
Keith announcing his disappointing appearance. Towing a different
girl than before behind him. The brunette is defiantly drunk
swaying back and forth on some rather shinny hooker heels and she’s
probably hopped up on some coke. Wow this is so not my world. I
drop Keith’s hand and he frowns at me.

“Some ass bag grabbed Em’s ass”

“Ah….” Johnathan tilts his head down and
examines my ass with his eyes. I swing around and push it against
the bar to hide from his gaze. I am not a damn piece of meat. “It’s
a nice ass. But she wouldn’t be getting all that attention if she’d
stop wearing such tight of jeans.” He eyes me sharply.

“I am right here ya know? And just because I
wear tight jeans doesn’t give men free reign to ogle it.” I
snap.

The brunette stares at me for a second and
goes back to trying to stand steady in those stupid hooker heels.
Desperate much?

“Listen short stack.” He pats the top of my
head.

Oh that mother fucker! I am so close to
hitting him. I ball my hands into fists at my sides and clinch my
teeth together.

“If you don’t want men to want to try and
fuck you then don’t dress like you want it?” He says as smooth as
silk. That’s it! I’ve had it!

“Listen dickhead! I am so tired of your shit
already. How I dress or how I present myself is none of your
goddamn business. Go find yourself a whore.” I point my stare
blatantly at his companion. “And leave me the hell alone. I WAS
enjoying myself with Keith over here.” I nod my head towards Keith.
“Until your dumb ass showed up. So go take your misogynistic six
foot five, tattooed, bling bling wearing ass far away from me. Now!
Or I will make sure you regret ever meeting me. Do you understand?”
I scream staring angrily at him. I feel like a teapot about to
explode.

“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
he laughs mockingly. “What I understand short stack is that I get
under your skin rather easily and threatening me isn’t going to
make me move an inch unless I WANT to. Your little girly threats
are as empty as your pockets. But I will take my very rich, very
sexy, rock star ass away because I choose to.” He goes to turn
around and leave.

“You’re not sexy!” I scream and I slug him so
hard with all of my might right in the nose. He yelps and instantly
covers his nose with both hands. Cue the blood! Hundreds of
onlookers just watched me deck probably the most famous rock star
in the world in the nose. Serves him right. I am so damn smug. But
I don’t give a shit.

Stacy comes barging up through the crowd of
gawkers. Man, he looks pissed. Shooting me a death stare he escorts
Johnathan by his arm from the club. I shake my hand realizing how
much it actually hurts to punch someone in the face. When I turn
back around I shoot both tequila shots and the lovely bartender has
a bag of ice ready for me.

“You so rock.” She smiles sliding me over
another shot. I down it.

“Thanks.” I smile back. Fuck, my hand really
hurts. Note to self- Next time I want to punch a man in the face.
DON’T. Use a chair or a frying pan it will hurt me much less.

I turn my head and Keith is still there. His
eyes are as wide as saucers and his beautiful mouth is literally
hanging wide open.

“What?” I ask.

“That was so hot!” he says, closing his
mouth.

“Well the mother fucker deserved it and then
some. I refuse to be taunted like that. I might be short but I will
dress and act however I want. Maybe he’ll think twice about
treating me like shit again.”