He bumped into Bob in his haste.
Bob’s eyes widened at the naked fury in Staffan’s eyes. “It’s not what you think!” he said quickly. He didn’t really know what his employer was thinking. All he knew was that Staffan had to have the wrong idea to look this mad, especially considering what Saffi was doing right now.
“What the fuck do you mean?” Staffan didn’t bother waiting for an answer. “What the hell’s going on?” Ahead of him, his entire crew – the backup dancers and vocals, the tech crew, and even his management team – was all cheering and chanting, almost drowning out the music that was playing.
“It’s a dance-off, boss.” Bob looked discomfited. “With you as the prize.”
“What the fuck?”
“One of the groupies from LA is here again and she challenged Saffi to a dance off.”
“And she agreed?” His Saffi March, who he was guessing had to be extremely smart to be taking a post-graduate degree on fish, had agreed?
Bob nodded.
“Is she any good?”
The other man coughed because any other response would be…awkward.
Staffan coughed as well, needing to hide his embarrassment. “That’s all I need to know.”
And it really was. Staffan’s chest eased, like a heavy burden had just been lifted off his shoulders. He walked at a leisurely pace and as word spread about his presence, the crowd immediately parted, automatically making space for Staffan to walk unhindered all the way to the front.
The first thing he saw was Saffi, standing at the edge, a concentrated frown on her face. Mitch was dancing in the center, and even he had to admit it was an extremely good dance, with just the right amount of softness and snap. With both of them had their backs to him, neither girl wasn’t aware of his presence.
Mitch was dancing to Rihanna’s
Diamonds
, and the song perfectly suited her style of dance. Staffan knew the woman had to be professionally taught to dance like that.
“Saffi’s up next!” Donovan shouted.
The crowd cheered so wildly it was deafening, and Staffan caught sight of the disgruntled look on Mitch’s face as she walked off.
Saffi quickly whispered something to the pink-haired girlfriend of one of his vocals before moving to the center. She was nervous but doing her best not to show it. She had braided her hair, and it made her look impossibly younger, especially with her face free of makeup. She wore a floral dress with an extremely low neckline.
Since he was pretty sure Saffi hadn’t come with any luggage, Staffan guessed that she had bought the dress from one of the hotel boutiques. And as this was one of his stepfather’s hotels, he also knew the dress would have cost a lot of money. Had Saffi paid for it herself or had Carson paid for it? Jealousy flared, hot and dangerous, but he forgot all about it when her music started to play and Saffi began to move.
Un-fucking-believable.
The crowd burst into laughter even as they clapped their hands.
He gaped, unable to believe that his very feminine, elegant, and charmingly awkward Saffi March was dancing to Psy’s
Gangnam Style
.
When the song reached the chorus and Saffi actually went on doing the exact moves that Psy popularized in his music video, Staffan forgot all about keeping his fucking image intact. He burst into laughter.
Saffi gasped, knowing that sound. She whirled around. Everyone whirled around with her.
The pink-haired girl gasped and quickly reached for her iPod. The music died mid-beat.
Saffi couldn’t stop staring. After last night, she should have been used to his looks. But if anything, being in his arms – knowing how freaking good he was in bed – just made him look even more gorgeous in her eyes. Staffan stood several feet away from her, taller than everyone else in the crowd and definitely more beautiful than everyone in the world. His hair was still wet, and he was again dressed beautifully in another three-piece ensemble. His hazel eyes gleamed as an amused smile formed on his lips.
And then he chuckled, as if unable to help it.
She could just die from sheer happiness at that sound. Staffan wasn’t the type to smile, to chuckle, to laugh – but he did all three just now. She knew enough of his background to understand why he had such a hard time showing happiness and the fact that he did now – that she was the cause of it – was incredible. It made her head reel.
Staffan started to move, and with his long-legged strides, it took only a fraction of a time for him to stand right in front of her, making Saffi absolutely breathless at his nearness alone. He smelled divine. He
was
divine.
His nostrils flared at the way Saffi’s eyes lit up at the sight of him, making her look like she couldn’t get enough of him. But that was good. In fact, it was fucking perfect since he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.
He took her braid, running his fingers on its twisted strands and enjoying its silky smooth texture. He murmured huskily, “You win, Saffi.”
It took a moment before the words sank in. Saffi’s eyes widened, Mitch gasped, but the crowd went berserk. Bob nodded at his security team to escort the other woman out before she could cause trouble. The warning gazes from the two men clutching her arms kept her mouth shut, but she couldn’t help glaring at Saffi over her shoulder even as she was dragged away, promising herself silently that this was not going to be the end.
Saffi was utterly oblivious to what had just happened, and even the loud cheers of Staffan’s crew didn’t entirely reach her. All she could see, hear, and feel had to do with the divinely gorgeous man standing in front of her. “Y-you know what we were doing?”
Still holding the braid, he teased, “A dance off with me as a prize?”
She blushed, forgetting for the moment that Gs didn’t blush so easily.
Staffan smirked. “I hate to tell you this, H, but you sucked.”
She smiled sheepishly. “But you still chose me as a winner, though.”
“Not because you danced better.” He leaned close. “It’s because you’re the only woman I want to fuck right now.”
Her heart tripped at his words. Looking up at him, Saffi wondered if Staffan had any idea of how his eyes were giving her a completely different message from how he had acted last night. But then it didn’t matter. She was in love with him either way.
Staffan tugged at her braid. “This is a very unusual hairstyle for a groupie, H.”
Oops
.
She stammered, “It’s daytime. I only, umm, go for wilder styles at night.”
He coughed. “I see.”
She tried not to look flustered. God, that was so lame.
He tugged her braid again. “Since you won the dance off, I’m going to give you a prize, too.”
Saffi squealed, unable to help it.
Staffan coughed harder. How could she be so smart and yet so naïve at the same time? Did she really think she could fool anyone with her ridiculous cover-up as a G? No self-respecting groupie would squeal like a five-year-old getting her first Barbie just because she was promised a prize.
Without attempting to lower his voice, wanting every man in the vicinity to hear and know just who Saffi March belonged to, Staffan said simply, “You get to fuck me.” Before she had time to gasp, he added in a matter-of-fact voice, “Now.”
And then he was sweeping her in his arms and taking Saffi to the nearest room with a door that could be locked – which happened to be the office of the day manager for the concert venue.
Staffan dealt the other man a look. “I need your office. Now.”
Saffi bit back a groan of embarrassment, hiding her flushed face in the crook of his neck.
The day manager wasn’t stupid. He hurried out without a word, knowing that Staffan Aehrenthal was a man to be obeyed at all costs.
Staffan kicked the door shut. “Ready to be fucked?” he asked as he let Saffi down.
In answer, she wriggled out of her panties and placed it on the table.
He groaned---a deep, long, lust-crazed one that came all the way from his belly, heated by the fire in his loins. “You’re so fucking sexy you’re driving me out of my mind.”
She said shyly, “You, too. I feel exactly the same way---” The rest of her words were lost in his kiss, Staffan hauling her to him in one rough and hungry motion. He kissed her like he was dying and only she could bring him back to life.
Something hard pressed against the soft skirt of her dress.
Or rather, Saffi was the only one could make his dick come alive this fast.
As she lifted the skirt of her dress, she hoped it was true. That he’d only hunger for her, even if it was just for a while.
Saffi gasped when he suddenly flipped her around. “Do you still feel sore here?” His hand drifted down, wetting his finger with the moisture that had so quickly formed between her legs.
She shook her head.
“The truth,” he growled.
“I just want you in,” she gasped.
“Good. We’ll try something different this time.” With his fingers still moving against her flesh but never quite thrusting in, Staffan made her move so that they were facing the window. Reaching past her, which caused his fingers to press against her clit and making her gasp, he twisted the blinds partially open, allowing them to see outside while keeping them hidden from view.
“Grab the sills, baby,” he told her as he pushed her down.
Saffi held the sills, feeling exquisitely exposed once more as he felt Staffan’s gaze devouring her naked legs and sex. The fact that she still had her heels on, the sound of Staffan unbuckling his belt behind her and unzipping his pants to let his dick spring free---all of it caused Saffi to let out a whimper.
Staffan rubbed his dick against her quivering sex. “Do you want this, H?”
“Yes.” She was already panting and they hadn’t yet done anything.
The naked yearning in her voice made his dick throb and pulse like it was about to burst. “You’re so fucking hot.”
She wriggled her butt, trying to get him to enter her.
Staffan slapped her ass, and she yelped. “That will teach you to wait.”
“Please,” she begged when he pulled away, leaving her feeling empty and aching.
“Please what, baby?” He caressed the soft skin of her ass, mesmerized at the pinkish imprint he had left. “Do you want me to fuck you---back doors?”
She stiffened with a gasp. “No!”
He pushed her back down when she tried to straighten up, saying teasingly just to torment her, “But I thought you did that already.”
Those freaking lies!
She opened her mouth to confess the truth. “I…” She closed her eyes, trying to think, and then inspiration hit her. “I…need a butt plug.”
Shit.
She had lied again. When she felt Staffan actually rub his dick against the curve between her butt cheeks, she cried out quickly, “The butt plug is…necessary...to, umm, prepare me…for…that.”
Under his touch, he felt Saffi stiffening more and more with every rub of his dick against her tiny nether hole. Deciding he had teased her enough, he repositioned his dick against her sex, smiling a little when he felt her relax instantly at the contact.
“That’s too bad about the butt plug. Maybe next time.”
“Uhh, yeah, next---
ahh.
” Staffan had pressed his fingers against her clit, harder and harder until she gasped.