"Oh. Yes. Thanks." She stuffed it into her pocket with a blush even as she mentally berated herself for being such an airhead and acting like a freaking novice! She was supposed to be an experienced slut, for heaven's sake!
Staffan took her hand as he led her out of the dressing room. Outside, her embarrassment came back tenfold when she saw everyone smirking at her. Oh my God. They knew. And then she saw Alan Carson and became even more embarrassed. Both of them shared the same hometown, had attended the same high school, and he knew everything about her since his family was in politics, too.
Staffan saw the look of shock and worry in Saffi's eyes when she saw Carson. He stiffened. Did she care about what the little twerp thought? Jealousy bit at him and he asked sharply, "Is something the matter?"
She jumped at the curt and almost angry sound of his voice. This man might not literally be a rockstar – Staffan didn't sing rock but most of his American fans, after seeing his tattoo, liked to think of him as one - but he definitely had the temperament of one. He blew hot and cold so quickly he left her whirling.
Maybe he was beginning to question her disguise. Maybe he had sensed her embarrassment and was starting to doubt her identity as a groupie. Maybe he was getting bored with her because he realized he had done most of the work – twice – while she just stood there and waited for him to pleasure her.
Nervous as heck now, Saffi dug into her pocket to get some gum from her wristlet. In the movies, she saw Gs snapping gum all the time so maybe she should do it, too.
When she pulled out her gum, the bra came with it and fell to the floor.
Everyone fell silent again.
She desperately wanted to kill herself but for the love of Staffan Aehrenthal, she was just going to … ride this one out.
When it was clear she wasn't going to pick it up, Staffan mentally rolled his eyes even as he crouched down to pick it up. But instead of giving it to Saffi, which she clearly expected him to do, he put it in his own pocket.
Her eyes widened, and it was clear on her face she was doing her best not to show more embarrassment.
Why was she so determined to pretend being someone else?
Staffan had her bra. Oh my dear Sex God---no wait the Sex God had her bra. If Saffi didn't do something quickly, she was going to faint. Remembering the gum in her hand, she quickly popped it into her mouth. She tried blowing a bubble with it, like how Gs did in movies, but it burst back into her mouth instead like a pink sticky web.
Everyone burst into laughter.
Amusement won over exasperation this time, tempting Staffan to smile as he watched Saffi hurriedly spit the gum out and discarded it in a piece of tissue she crumpled into a ball before throwing away. No matter what she did, Saffi just wasn't cut out to be a hardcore G. Still watching her, he was surprised to see her smile at someone. His eyes followed her line of sight and he stiffened when he saw Alan Carson smiling at his Saffi ruefully.
Staffan reacted instinctively. He pulled Saffi back to him, hand curling around her nape. His lips went down on her as her body slammed close against him.
Saffi's gasp ended as a whimper as Staffan surprised her with an open mouthed kiss, one so blazingly carnal it made her eyes close, heart hitch, and her toes curl.
Mine, his kiss said.
And yet that was not enough.
When he lifted his head, he stared down at Saffi, his face hard. "When you're with me, I want you to look at me and just me. I want you to think of me and just me. You're mine, every inch of you is fucking mine. Understand?"
His voice rang loud and clear, the tone of possessiveness in it unmistakable, and her stupid silly fangirl heart couldn't help but be thrilled. Saffi wanted to say ‘yes' but was afraid it would come out all gushing and adoring, and she'd sound like the fangirl she really was.
Unable to trust herself with words at the moment, she nervously popped another piece of gum into her mouth to blow another bubble. This time it worked, and she gave him a thumbs-up in answer.
The crowd laughed once more, but even so she kept her gaze on Staffan. Yours, she tried telling him with her eyes.
He stared at her for a moment---before throwing his back head in laughter.
She relaxed, toes curling again at the look of tender possessiveness that had lit his hazel eyes ever so briefly.
Staffan pulled her close as he walked them out of the hall, one arm around her waist, fingers splayed on her hip as if wanting to mark her his with every second. He glanced down at Saffi, who was so small her head didn't even reach his shoulder.
Ah, Saffi March.
I don't think I'll ever get tired of you.
Chapter Four
I'm determined to find out why this is called Sin City.
Saffi March checked in at McCarran International Airport, Las Vegas, Nevada
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Aehrenthal Fanatics commented, You go, slut! =P -
"Excuse me, I need to talk to Alan Carson? Do you know where he is?" Even to her ears, the question sounded surreal. A plane wasn't supposed to be like a freaking mall a person would get lost in it but that was exactly what had happened.
Staffan's private jet was beyond the stretch of her imagination. All the walls were covered in cream leather and wood panels. The jet also had its own game room and library and of course a recording studio. Not even the greatest rockstars could afford this, but of course Staffan wasn't just a rockstar. His stepfather also happened to head one of the world's most famous resort and theme park corporations, and it was no secret that the billionaire CEO thought of Staffan as his own son.
Her parents were embarrassingly rich as well, but Pearl's conservative upbringing ensured that all of them kept a low profile. Only Steel traveled on his own private jet but only for emergency occasions. And since he was tempered by their mother's Americanized ideas of noblesse oblige, Steel's jet was also a lot smaller than this.
The four people in the cabin she had sort of trespassed her way into were gawking. Finally, the only lady in the group – a pink-haired woman whose bubble-blowing skills Saffi envied – popped her gum and said, "I think he's with the tech crew at the very back. Just go straight. You'll see all the electronic stuff and that's the right place."
"Thanks!" She gave them a quick awkward smile, trying not to mind how they were still gawking before speeding further down the plane.
Behind her, Saffi was unaware that the four people had already scrambled out of the cabin, intent on spreading the word that the boss' newest G had "left the building" in search of her boy toy Alan Carson.
Saffi chewed her lip. By now, Staffan would probably be wondering why it was taking her so long to get back to him. Saffi had only excused herself to go to the restroom, but in truth she just felt it wasn't right for her to hang out with him. Although they weren't alone, the others – like Eddie, his choreographer, and the rest of his vocal backups – had something important to contribute to the tour. She didn't.
When she finally reached the area where the tech crew was checking the equipment, there was no sign of Alan. All ten of them came to a standstill at the sight of her. "Excuse me. Is Alan Carson around?"
They silently pointed to the door at the back, still gaping. Her head bobbing in thanks, she sped past them, again not seeing how everyone was in a mad scramble to spread the word among the rest of the crew that the Sex God seemed to have lost his touch.
Saffi quietly opened the door and flipped the light switch when darkness greeted her.
"Murderous mackerel."
Alan was engaged in a passionate embrace.
With another man.
~~~
"Boss? I think we have another problem." Bob was at the doorway again, glancing over his shoulder like escape from a madman was impossible.
The worst kind of déjà vu hit Staffan. Cursing under his breath, he said, "It's H again, isn't it?"
Bob slowly nodded.
"What's it this time?"
"It's not been confirmed," Bob hedged. "But I've been hearing things---"
"Just spill it."
"I've been hearing stuff from the crew, boss. They say she's, err, with the dancer Carson and they're, err, engaged in private business."
Staffan saw red.
"Where. Are. They."
"Boss, how about I check it out first---"
"Goddammit, Bob. If you don't fucking tell me where they are right now, I'm going to beat it out of you instead."
Bob flinched. Although he knew it wasn't a real threat, the voice reminded him too much of how Staffan had been in the past, right after his most god-awful breakup with The Cougar. Before his employer's almost miraculous overnight change three months ago, Staffan had been a mess, drinking himself to death and involved with every brawl he encountered – which there was a lot of since Staffan had spent practically every night in bars – and behind bars.