Bollywood Superstar

Jas awoke in darkness to the sweet, conflicting scents of bath oil and sex. She tilted her head. A man was beside her, a very handsome, very famous, very virile man. She breathed out quickly and laid her head back on the pillow, wondering what the time was. She was due in the shop at eight.

Her handbag, with the mobile phone in it, was halfway across the floor, tangled up in her hastily-discarded clothes. Speaking of which, how was she going to get from Nottingham to Leicester in a flimsy dancing outfit?

Oh, couldn’t she just go to Mumbai with Ajay now? Instead of having to face the uncomfortable slice of real life lurking in her near future? Krishnan would probably be furious, or hurt or something else horrible. Her stomach flopped at the thought and her brain fogged up with dread. Could Ajay save her? Was there a way around it?

She was distracted by Ajay creeping his hand closer, rumpling a path beneath the sheet over to her thigh where he settled his fingers with a squeeze. He rolled over to face her, his eyes heavy-lidded with sleep but managing a glow of lust behind the drowsiness.

“Jasmeena,” he said in a hoarse, morning voice. “I didn’t dream you.”

“No, I’m quite real,” she said, all her panic dissipating, replaced by a melting between her overused thighs. She was so sore down there, she didn’t think she’d be able to take him again, much as she wanted to.

“I need proof,” he yawned, sliding up his fingers and finding her pussy.

She winced and he tutted sympathetically.

“Poor thing. I worked you too hard, did I?”

“A little bit.” She grimaced ruefully. “Ajay…what’s the time? I need to get back to Leicester before eight.”

“Back to your grocery shop? Is that more important than me?” He pouted, running a finger along her lips until she opened them and sucked.

She popped her mouth off the fingertip. “No,” she said “But I don’t want to let…my boss…down. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Ajay sat up and ran a hand through his hair, his expression disgruntled. He picked up his watch.

“It’s seven fifteen,” he said.

“Shit! I can’t get to the shop in forty-five minutes! I can’t even get to the railway station in that time!”

“Calm down, don’t panic. If it’s that important to you, my driver can take you there.”

“Really? Oh, thank you, Ajay. You’re a star.”

“Yes, I know. But listen. I need my breakfast first.”

He burrowed down under the covers and pounced, his greedy mouth making contact with her stinging clit so that she squealed. At least, she did at first. Then she lay back down and let his tongue do the talking.

Chapter Four

Jas entered her flat via the fire escape, not wanting to walk through the shop in her full bells-and-whistles Bollywood kit under the disapproving glare of Krishnan and his morning customers.

She changed as quickly as she could into jeans and a T-shirt, putting her hair into pigtails and staring nervously at her reflection in the bedroom mirror.

Back in the mundane surroundings of the upstairs flat, she felt the glamorous sheen of her night with a movie star begin to tarnish. Had it happened? Did it mean anything or were his offers of stardom and romance just empty charm designed to keep her on her back in his bed?

“Get real, Jas,” she muttered to herself. “He can have any woman he wants. You had a good time with him. Leave it at that.”

He was going to Manchester today for the northern heat of the auditions anyway. He wouldn’t be back for a fortnight. No doubt he would find some gorgeous girl from Oldham or Burnley and she would be his new discovery for the night. Only she probably wouldn’t fall into bed as easily as Jas had.

“For God’s sake, give yourself a break,” she scolded. “It was just sex. Sex is nice. And it was nice. I’d forgotten how nice it could be…”

She fastened her braids and switched on her m

obile phone. A bucketload of missed calls, all from Krish. And a new text from…Ajay!

“Miss u already, babe. Think of me. C u soon, AA xxx.”

Double A. Ajay, Ajay, Ajay Amir. And he wanted Jasmine Wyatt!