But of course it doesn’t last. I have to leave eventually, and back at the hotel, I’m spinning all over again. I keep thinking about Graham’s lips, his arms, his hands, his tongue. Everything about him drives me absolutely insane and I need to stay away if I have any hope of getting through this tour.
But I can’t help myself. I feel like I’m being pulled toward him, and I slowly step out into the hall. It’s after twelve and the hotel is quiet. Graham’s room is right next to mine.
I stand in front of his door, heart racing. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never knocked on a guy’s door like this. I don’t go to them, they always come to me, but Graham… he’s different. I feel like I need him, right now, or else I’ll lose it completely.
I lift my hand, heart pounding, and I knock.
He answers almost right away. At first, he looks serious, almost angry, but quickly his expression dissolves into something…
Oh, god.
He’s giving me this big, cocky grin.
“Evening, princess,” he says, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing his arms. “You looked good up there.”
“Yeah? You watched?”
He shrugs. “Most of it, anyway.”
“You don’t strike me as a fan.”
“I’m not,” he says bluntly.
“Ouch. You could sugarcoat it.”
He just shrugs. “But you really are good.”
“Thanks.”
He lingers there, watching me carefully, still smirking.
“What can I do for you, princess?” he asks.
I open my mouth. I want to tell him to come back to my room, or maybe to bring me into his. I want to beg him to lick me like he did, to get me off, to make me feel good. I’m craving it so badly I can barely think.
But I shut my mouth. “Nothing. Sorry. Never mind.”
He laughs gently. “Okay, sure.”
“This was a mistake.” I turn and hurry back to my room.
He says something but I don’t hear. I’m too busy feeling like such a moron. I pull my door open and step inside, slamming it behind me.
What the hell was I thinking? I just totally embarrassed myself. He knows why I was there and he didn’t do a damn thing about it. He could’ve made that easier on me, but he didn’t.
He’s such an asshole. He wants me to do things his way, to give up everything, but I can’t. I won’t give him that power over me.
Nobody treats me like this and I don’t go begging for sex at some strange guy’s door.
Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Screw him. He doesn’t matter.
But as I head to bed, I know I’m lying to myself. I already wish I had stayed outside of his door and told him exactly what I wanted.8GrahamWatching her turn bright red and get all flustered was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever experienced.
I chased her into the hall, tried to get her to come back, but she was finished. And that’s fine, you know, fuck it. Can’t win them all. She came to my door to let me lick that little delicious cunt again, and I know she’ll come back sooner or later.
We travel to the next city on her tour bus, a crowded, ridiculous thing. I hang off toward the back, ignored by everyone, and she studiously pretends like I don’t exist. That’s fine by me, she can pretend all she wants.
We both know what she needs.
At the venue, we go through the same old routine. Soundcheck, green room, hanging around, killing time. Endless parties get pretty boring, and I keep noticing that Katie isn’t partaking all that much. I figured she’d like staying out late, getting drunk, getting high, whatever. Instead, she doesn’t touch alcohol and turns down whatever drugs she gets offered.
She’s not really what I expected. I mean, she’s still a spoiled little princess, but she’s not as empty as I figured she’d be. I have this image of pop star girls as just these empty vessels dressed up and pretty for Instagram or whatever’s cool these days.
Katie’s not really like that. She’s barely on her phone, barely talks about her social media stuff. She doesn’t drink or do drugs, she doesn’t complain, she works damn hard on all these tours. It’s surprising and strange and it’s giving me a new outlook on her.
I don’t think I’m totally wrong, though. I think I’ve got her pegged, at least a little. Just because she’s not totally empty and vapid and dumb, doesn’t mean she’s not spoiled.
The girl gets treated like a queen. Well, I guess like a princess. It’s absurd, almost annoying, how everyone tiptoes around her, pretends like she’s a fragile little bird. People go out of their way to be nice to her for no fucking reason, and these aren’t nice people.
She’s still living in her little bubble, and god damn, if I don’t want to pop it.