"Is he going to pull you up on stage and flash his cock?" Ashley asks with a laugh.
"No," I say, sticking out my tongue. "You're not going to see his cock come out."
"Because it's gonna be in your mouth?" Brittney asks, her face completely serious.
I burst out laughing. Brittney's sounding kind of drunk already. I don't know how she's going to hold it while we cross the East River.
It's been a solid month since Stone held me in his arms and told me he loved me. Told me that he no longer needed any pills or medication to stay off the drugs and alcohol as long as he had me.
I gotta admit though that hearing that was enough to send my head spinning so fast. One of the most powerful and iconic rock and roll legends of my time was so into me that he was able to love me and use it to not have to drown himself in opiates anymore. That's enough for any girl to feel all warm and fuzzy.
I mean, there's still a lot of things I need to work on him. For one, I want him to stop living in a hotel. The W is great and all. But paying 10,000 a month to live in a suite and not have a proper roof over your head is a bit strange - even for me.
Trust me, once I get him living like a normal human being - Ashley said that Apollo could help him find an apartment that's as cool as the W - then I have a laundry list of things that I need to do to make Stone better.
Not that he's not the best right now. He's the best man that I've ever thought could walk the planet. And honestly, even if I didn't get any of the things I want to change him with done, I'd be absolutely happy.
But there's a reason I have all this going through my head.
The first is because he's my lobster. So I can absolutely do these things to him.
The second?
If he didn't get exasperated at me, where would the fun be?
"Are we ready?" Brittney asks, standing on unsteady legs.
I get up. I know the comment about getting my guitar god exasperated sounds a bit bitchy. But I mean well.
The giant H3 stretch limo pulls up outside on Avenue B, as we walk out the entrance to PDT. Stone sent it for us and we all sort of stumble in.
"I hope you tell him thank you for the ride later on tonight," Carla says to me.
"Right, thank him with a powerful blowjob, babe," Lisa says with a chuckle. "Hoover his brain out his cock."
The girls giggle. We pop champagne as the car takes off and I think back to the things I want to do to change my rockstar.
Maybe they can wait, actually.
Lets just enjoy right now together.
While we're young. And happy.
The best is of course, yet to cum.
;)
141
Daphne
You like that lil description of how everyone knows each other? Well, here it is in like graphic!
So we go to one of the central people herself then, Ashley!
Ashley Vs. Boss
Mr. Billionaire Boss thinks that he’s going to own me? Well, you wanna know what I say? Let the buyer beware…
So what if he has more money than God?
So what that he’s so handsome that he can halt New York City traffic as people stop to stare at him.
At those gorgeous eyes, that ripped physique, and that huge bulge in his pants that can only be his…wait, can it even be THAT big?
Whatevs. As he’s getting admired, I’m stealing his cab. Sorry, bub. This is the big city. You snooze, you lose. Right?
Wrong.
Because Apollo Kane is more than just some hapless New Yorker who lost a cab to me.
He’s my new boss. Oh no!
That only leaves one thing unanswered…
How badly is he gonna punish me?
And how much am I gonna like it?
*** It’s the cute single girl versus the Big Bad Boss in this second installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, sexy, sassy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. Happy Ending? Always, babe ***
142
Ashley
I wake up slowly, surfacing in a groggy fog. My head is pounding and I’m not sure if I want to be awake, but there’s some reason…
Something I need to…
There’s this nagging worry at the back of my mind…What the fuck am I worried about?
I shoot up in bed, shoving my hair out of my eyes. The guy lying next to me—Mike? Dave? Troy?—is snoring away.
“Wake up,” I say, shaking his shoulder.
“Wha…?” he asks blearily.
“I have to go to work,” I say, swinging my legs out of bed, heading for my bathroom, “and you need to get out of my apartment.”
“Oh,” he says, disappointed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Are you sure you aren’t up for a little morning fucking?”
I poke my head around the corner of the bathroom and glare daggers at him. “I am late,” I say, enunciating every word, “and you need to get the fuck out of my apartment. Pronto.” I run through a sponge bath that barely covers the basics, and then hit my closet. I rummage through my clothes, trying to find something that I can throw together that won't look like I threw it together.