The Complete Groupie Trilogy Page 6

  After the band finished their set we were all off to a club down the street, with a private room in the back booked just for the occasion. There were similar faces from Jasper’s party, those influential in the music industry to help vault Vanni into superstardom. He spent the better part of the night schmoozing, with Lourdes hanging off his arm like a pretty, sparkly bracelet.

  Jasper took his leave first, and this time Jacob went with him. Lourdes was soon to follow, giving me forty-five minutes to get Vanni all to myself for his special birthday kiss at midnight.

  It must have been on his mind too because he found his way to me shortly after her departure, and we spent the twenty or so minutes dancing close while the champagne flowed.

  With about twenty minutes to spare he whispered to meet him out front as he said his gracious goodbyes.

  Turned out “out front” meant a hansom cab waiting right at the entrance of the club. I climbed in and cuddled under a blanket and waited.

  He emerged fifteen minutes later, just after a light snow had begun to fall. He hopped in and I lifted the blanket for him to join me as the driver prompted his horse and we were on our way.

  Vanni wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close against him. “I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he confided softly.

  I looked deep into his dark eyes, searching for any insincerity. “Don’t believe what you hear,” I heard Jacob whisper into my ear. But all I could say was, “Me too.”

  He reached over to brush a strand of hair out of my face, and then pulled my glasses off to get a better look at my face. “So pretty,” he said as one finger trailed the line of my cheek.

  I wanted to make a snide comeback to brush off the unfamiliar praise, but it felt right just to hear the compliment. I graciously said, “Thank you,” with a smile.

  He bestowed that sexy smirk. “That accent is going to do me in one day,” he swore. He had often teased about my accent, and how it was his kryptonite from the time we met. That and my “dangerous curves” as he had often described them.

  Taking it all in now he seemed intoxicated as he bent his head toward mine and the heat of his breath warmed my lips. “It’s not midnight,” I tried to protest.

  “It will be,” he assured. With that his mouth covered mine for the first time.

  Though we were chilled under the snowy New York night, his kiss warmed me right to my toes. At first it was a tentative, teasing, open mouthed kiss that savored my lips until I was reaching for him, silently begging for more. His mouth tasted like champagne when his probing tongue gently parted my lips. I groaned as I surrendered to that gentle, sweet possession.

  We rocked closer together with the gentle motion of the cab, the rhythmic sound of horse’s hooves muffled by the lightly falling slow. The clamor of the city was just blocks away, but for a moment it felt like we were caught in a snow globe. It felt totally natural to make out with him even in full view of the public, because in that moment it felt like nobody else existed. There was no world behind the touch of his hands or the taste of his lips.

  It was so much better than any daydream I had ever indulged.

  His hand cupped the back of my head and fingers grasped into my hair as he kissed me deeper in response. With his other hand pulled my legs over his and pressed me back against the cushion of the cab. My hand was in his hair, like long strands of silk between my fingers.

  He was breathless as we broke apart, and his eyes never moved from my face. “Happy birthday,” I grinned.

  “It is now,” he said as his hand slid down the side of my body and then rested lightly on my hip. “I’ve waited a long time to do that.”

  My finger traced his jaw. “What’s the verdict?”

  “I want to do it again,” he said softly, touching his mouth to mine, toying with my lips playfully. “And again,” he murmured before another tantalizingly slow kiss.

  “And again,” I repeated as I brazenly kissed him back. It was his turn to groan as my tongue slipped in between his full lips and he pulled me closer – as if skin to skin wasn’t close enough.

  The cab slowed to a stop and I realized we were in front of my hotel. A moment passed between us and all I could do was climb into those beautiful dark eyes. Again he bent toward me. “Invite me upstairs,” he commanded softly in between inquisitive kisses.

  I felt the urgency of his body – one that I fully shared. I could picture every moment from the time we left that cab, the elevator ride up to the room, and each kiss and caress that would follow behind closed doors. I could see the enraptured look on his face as my mouth teased and tormented him, to the very moment he’d enter me and claim me like I wanted, and needed, him to do.

  It was everything I dreamed, and it was literally at the tips of my fingers. Everything else just sort of melted away. “Okay,” I found myself whispering.

  “Say it,” he commanded again, this time stronger, with more urgency.

  I fell headlong into his bottomless eyes. “Come upstairs with me, Vanni.”

  His face broke apart in his sexy smirk. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He stood and exited the cab, then held a hand out to me to help me down. He thrust some bills into the driver’s hand and then led me into the hotel. By midnight the crowds had thinned in the elegant lobby so we were free to snuggle all the way to the elevator.

  Once the doors closed he pulled me to him until the front of my body was molded against his, with his hands locked behind my waist. “You’re an evil woman to make me wait so long for this,” he said as he bent for another kiss. His lips left me speechless; all I could do was slip my arms around his neck and kiss him back with pent-up ardor.

  As much as I dreamed what it would it would be like to have his mouth on mine, nothing beat the reality. Nothing whets the appetite quite like anticipation. By the time we reached my floor we could barely bear to break apart to stumble four feet to my hotel door.

  The minute the door clicked shut behind us his passion kicked into overdrive. I was pressed up against the wall and lifted up into his arms until my legs locked around his waist. His hands slipped off my jacket until it fell into a heap on the floor. Just as desperately he ripped the sheer shirt over my head until I was in nothing but those curve hugging jeans and my tightly cinched corset. He let out a happy sigh as he looked down at me. “So evil,” he breathed as he carried me to the bed, where we topped rather ungraciously trying to preserve our embrace.

  He propped up on one elbow and his hair fell like a curtain over his shoulder, tickling me on my bare, exposed skin. Tenderly he traced a finger across my chest, over to my shoulder and down my arm. His fingers linked with mine as he bent down, hungry again for another kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough.

  I arched my back toward him and he rewarded the action by cupping his large palm over my full breast, still hidden under satin and lace. He kissed his way across my cheek to the curve of my neck as he pressed against me while his strong fingers finally explored my aching breast. Each squeeze and every flick of his thumb made me crazy to feel his fingers against my bare skin, his mouth against my hungry body.

  I pushed him back against the pillows stacked up against the headboard. He watched through deeply hooded eyes as I reached around to unlace the corset. I lifted up on my knees to unfasten the jeans and slip them over the curve of my hips before I kicked them free onto the floor.

  I lay back on the bed, and ran my hand along his arm, bringing his hand once again to my body. “It’s your birthday gift,” I murmured. “You should be the one to unwrap it.”

  He groaned as he leaned forward until he was poised over me, and released the last few loops that held the corset in place until I was exposed for him. My heavy breasts bounced free and I felt the cool air hit my body before the warm rush of excitement of how he appraised me. “Best birthday gift ever,” he huskily declared as he bent to take one pert nipple immediately into his mouth. It sent white hot volts of electricity right to my core as he savored the curve
of my breast with his tongue and his fingers.

  I gasped and wound my hand in his hair. “Vanni,” I groaned.

  “Say it again,” he murmured against my skin.

  “Vanni,” I said louder, more decisively. He rose against my body to lie on top of me.

  With one deft finger I unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it from his body until we lay naked chest to naked chest.

  “I’ve dreamed of this,” he confessed against my lips.

  “So have I,” I admitted. Then, “How does it measure up to what you thought it would be?”

  He chuckled softly as he spun us around until he was on his back and I was straddling him in nothing but my underwear. I could feel him beneath me, under his clothes, pulsating with need. “You tell me,” he said he challenged with a suggestive grin.

  I ground against him and he caught one of my breasts as it swayed in front of him. I tossed my head back and continued to torment him. He dug his fingers into my soft hips as we continued our erotic dance with only two pieces of clothes between us.

  Just when I was about to remedy that little problem, his cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He groaned in frustration and tossed me onto my back. He kissed me harder as if to ignore the phone that would not quit buzzing in his pants.

  I probably wouldn’t have complained had it been positioned in a different spot, but as it was if it was an annoying pack of mosquitos suddenly attacking our picnic. He broke our kiss with a curse, and I just smoothed his hair. “You might as well answer it,” I said. “They’re not going to leave you alone until you do.”

  “Okay,” he relented. “But remember where I was,” he instructed with another sweet peck on the tip of my nose.

  He leaned back to reach into his pocket, and groaned at the almost painfully engorged silhouette of his desire. His desire for me, I mentally corrected. I tucked an arm under my head with a satisfied smile.

  His face became stern when he glanced at the caller ID. He turned off the sound and put it on the nightstand. “I can call them back later,” he said as he turned back to me. “Now where was I?”

  But I couldn’t forget the photo that popped up on his phone as easily as he could. It was Lourdes. And she was calling no doubt to wish him a happy birthday like any devoted girlfriend.

  It was as if a bucket of cold water washed over me, and I drew into myself as a result. Vanni took immediate notice. “Andy,” he started as he reached a hand for me.

  “You should answer,” I replied, my voice small and hard. “She probably wants to wish you a happy birthday.”

  “Nothing so sweet,” he assured. “She’s probably just calling to find out when I’m coming home…”

  He stopped, as if he had said too much. And of course he had. “You live with her?”

  “Andy…” he started but I had already grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed to wrap around myself. What a fool I had been. Had I really believed that this night was mine to steal?

  “I think you should go,” I said.

  “Let me explain,” he begged as he reached out for me again, but I was already off the bed and halfway to the bathroom.

  I glared at him momentarily from the door. “Go home to your girlfriend,” I spat, and then slammed the door behind me. Once inside I slid all the way down to the floor to use my body weight to barricade it should he try to force his way in.

  Strangely, I wanted him to. I wanted him to tell me that there was a misunderstanding, and he and Lourdes weren’t serious enough to actually live together. It was a hallucination… a nightmare. Anything but the stinging reality that I was nothing more than just a notch on his belt, a conquest to boost his ego while his beautiful girlfriend lay in their bed unaware.

  In their bed, I thought again, with my throat closing like a vice. Where they made love – something I very nearly almost tasted, and my body still wanted to spite it all.

  My chest burned with all the emotion I couldn’t release, because I wasn’t about to let him hear me cry.

  He was as easily my conquest as I was his; the only difference was I hadn’t lied to him.

  Minutes later I heard him walk across the floor and pause briefly in front of the bathroom. If he thought about begging for mercy through the door he reconsidered. I heard the outer door click behind him.

  Then, and only then, did I finally let that first teardrop fall.

  The next morning Iris mercifully let me sleep in until 10:00 a.m. When she called I really did have a migraine from all the crying I did just hours before in an empty, rumbled bed that still smelled of his cologne. I squeezed my eyes shut. I had to quit thinking about it, but I feared there would be no rest for the wicked.

  “Who is your favorite person in the whole world?” she chirped gaily in my ear.

  “You are,” I muttered. “I think.”

  “I know you had another late night so I’ve reduced your day to a couple of hours in the afternoon, maximum.”

  “I don’t want to go to the studio,” I told her. I already had all the interviews with the band. The only thing left was my interview with Lourdes to find out how wonderfully glorious her new romance was with the man of my dreams.

  I was perfectly okay postponing that as far off as possible, thank you very much.

  Iris, however, had other plans.

  “Nothing so strenuous,” she assured. “You’re meeting Vanni and Lourdes for lunch to complete your interviews.”

  I nearly choked. It was worse than I thought.

  “Both of them? That sounds complicated for all involved,” I said.

  “Everyone has to eat,” she replied.

  “She eats?” I quipped, which was met with brief silence on the other line.

  “Are you okay, Andy?” she asked, and I could tell her concern was sincere.

  “Another headache,” I dismissed truthfully. “Too much champagne.”

  She seemed to buy my excuse, or at the very least didn’t call bullshit on it. She proceeded to give me the details of when and where to meet the new lovebirds so I could dictate in black and white how fabulously in love they were.

  I was thrilled. Truly.

  I ended up wearing more makeup than I was used to; it was necessary to mask the dark shadows under my eyes and the blotchy complexion. Once I started applying the mask I couldn’t stop, and ended up looking more like a girl than I really intended.

  It wasn’t to compete with her, but to show Vanni that I was perfectly fine about our aborted lovemaking. I dressed in warm layers, hiding the cleavage I was no longer sure he deserved to see – not that it would have made much difference anyway. He made his choice the minute he moved in with a South American goddess so pretty I ceased to be a female in her presence.

  Then I thought about how he held me, how he kissed me. I remembered the look in his eyes as he whispered that he had dreamed about us being together. I remembered the contours of his body, which showed undeniable, rock-solid proof he found me desirable. Until I threw him out he was ready to ignore the call of said goddess to be with me.

  It still didn’t make sense, not in my fevered little brain. He’d made me feel more needed and more desired than I’d ever felt before in my life. He made me feel pretty, and feminine, and sexy. So how could he go from her to me or me back to her?

  It was the unsolvable riddle that drove me midtown to meet them at a hip new fusion restaurant everyone that was anyone went to be seen. I convinced myself I had to know the truth so I could put it all behind me when I returned to the “real world.” It was either that or I must have taken up masochism sometime in the past few days.

  I got there early because I didn’t trust my legs to carry me if I saw them cuddle together in one of the back booths. I gathered my questions, none of which that addressed my real curiosity, and patiently waited. The waiter brought me a wine list but I decided there had been enough alcohol for one trip. I asked for water.

  The minute they rounded the corner, led to the table by the buxom hostess in a
snug fitting black dress, I immediately steeled my spine and tried to wipe all emotion from my face.

  I didn’t stand up to greet them; I just reached out a hand to welcome Lourdes. I barely spared Vanni a glance as he bent toward me and gave me a friendly peck on the cheek.

  I hated him for that.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Lourdes purred, deliberately omitting my name. My guess was she didn’t remember it.

  “Likewise,” I said with a sweet phony smile that mirrored hers. I briefly stole a look at Vanni, whose dark eyes seemed to speak volumes in a language I was not familiar. I didn’t speak Cheating Dirt Bag, nor did I wish to learn.

  The waiter came to our table and took our order. Lourdes predictably ordered a small vegetable dish, whereas Vanni got a more robust meal that included beef. Evidently he hadn’t subscribed the vegetarian/vegan lifestyle of some of his band mates. This Philly boy no doubt still ordered cheesesteak that nearly came out of the bottom of a greasy bag. As a lover of food myself that made me feel slightly more compatible, and a little more superior.

  Since someone else was footing the tab I wasn’t going to waste free food on a salad. I ordered the seafood.

  Both Vanni and Lourdes canoodled on one side of the booth, his arm draped casually around her like a second coat. They sipped their wine and I cleared my throat. There was no point dragging things out, I jumped in with both feet.

  “So how did you two meet?” I asked, more to her than to him.

  She gave him a sexy smile. “You tell her, honey.”

  My gut tightened as I looked over at him expectantly.

  “It was one of Jasper’s parties, of course,” he said with an unreadable expression on his face. “I was the musical talent.”

  “I was just eye candy,” she murmured with a coy grin.

  He glanced down at her. “I saw her in the front row and thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I knew I had to meet her, so I stalked her backstage after the gig was over.”

  Stalked, I thought to myself. Such an appropriate word. Like a wild cat on the Serengeti. I hoped the disgust didn’t show on my face.