I glance at him. “His name is Graham.”
He laughs. “You named your pet?”
“I think his mom named him.”
“Right, whatever. That guy, what a jerk. Did you see all the coverage though?”
“Yeah,” I say vaguely.
The coverage was not kind to Graham. Some of the bloggers called him a psycho dealing with PTSD, but I don’t get that vibe from him, and besides, it’s not cool to make fun of soldiers dealing with something serious like PTSD. I didn’t read too much of the coverage after that article.
“They say he’s dangerous,” Jasper presses. “I mean, where did you even find him?”
“Norah,” I say.
“Of course. She’d find a guy like him. My god, aren’t you afraid, having him around? He might tackle you next.”
“I don’t think so.”
“He’s so stupid, I mean, really, tackling me like that? What a fucking psycho.”
“Stop calling him that,” I snap suddenly.
He looks surprised. “What?”
“Psycho,” I say softly. “He’s not a psycho. Stop saying it.”
He makes a face. “Are you serious? The psycho tackled me out of nowhere.”
“Jasper, I’m serious.”
“What? No, he’s a psycho, I’m not stopping.”
“Then get out of my room.”
He looks totally taken aback. So far in our relationship, I’ve more or less ignored him. I’ve been the dutiful little girlfriend, doing whatever he wants, even though I don’t owe him shit. I guess it’s just been easier to placate him than anything else, but now I’m sick of his bullshit.
“You’re kicking me out?”
“Apologize or get out,” I say, standing up. My nails are still wet so I have to keep my fingers spread.
“Whatever.” He climbs to his feet and glares at me. “You’re getting so weird.”
“Get out, Jasper.”
“Fine, whatever. Don’t make a scene.” He walks over to the door and looks back at me. “Psycho.”
He disappears outside and slams the door shut.
I sigh and go back to painting my nails. What a little fucking child. I don’t know why I ever agreed to this, but now I’m stuck with it.
I’ll have to talk to Norah about dumping my boyfriend sooner than scheduled.* * *I kill the rest of the day before we head out to the venue for soundcheck. Graham’s there, waiting in the background, but I can’t meet his gaze.
Every time I think about him, I keep feeling that tongue between my legs, his lips against mine, his body. He took me in a way no man has ever taken me, ever dared to take me before, and he made me… he made me call him Daddy.
And it was so fucking hot I can’t stand it.
Nobody treats me like that. I’m used to being the star, the one in control, even when I’m not in control. At least people pretend that everything goes through me.
Graham didn’t treat me like glass like everyone else does. I’m so used to people acting like I’m a precious thing, or something bigger than life. He just treated me like any other woman, and it felt…
It felt amazing. I want to feel like a woman and Graham gave me that.
Now though, I can’t even look at him. He’s my bodyguard and I complained about hiring him, and now I can’t stop thinking about his tongue between my legs.
I manage to make it through soundcheck before disappearing into the crowded green room. Graham lurks in the background, but he doesn’t talk to me, and I put a smile on my face, pretending that nothing’s on my mind.
But he’s on my mind. I keep glancing back at him, thinking, wondering…
Wondering if he’s imagining what I taste like right now.
God, it’s insane. I don’t know what I’m thinking.
As soon as I can, I head into the dressing room and get prepped. Every show is a big extravaganza, and I have three costume changes. I need to get myself mentally prepared to go through with all this stuff. I can’t get distracted with thoughts of Graham’s hands on my skin.
When I’m finally in the mindset, I head out into the hallway. I take a breath and start walking toward the stage, just a minute or two before showtime.
“Break a leg.”
I glance over. Graham’s leaning against the wall outside of my dressing room. I stare at him, meeting his flashing blue eyes, and I know I’m fucked.
“Thanks,” I say, and turn to walk away.
I feel his eyes still on me the whole time, tearing me apart.* * *After the show, I work hard to avoid Graham.
“Amazing show!” Jasper says, kissing my cheek. “You were so freaking fierce.”
“Thanks, Jasp,” I say.
He grins at me and others come up to congratulate me. The show did go well and I managed not to think too much about Graham, although now I can’t stop wondering about him.
“Early morning tomorrow,” Norah warns me. “We shouldn’t stay long.”
“I know.”
She nods sharply and heads off. I sigh and melt into the crowd, letting the mindless laughter and chatter keep me nice and distracted.