Word Count:
5,293
Ally couldn’t believe her luck. After months of following The Buzz around on tour, dreaming of the sexy-as-sin singer, he’d finally noticed her. But more than that, he’d invited her to a special gig, on a private island in the Caribbean.
Only eighteen, she thought she’d experienced all of the pain in the world, and she’d found purpose in their music. But more than that, she spent her nights lusting about their front man. Flynt Slader.
That gorgeous man with the kohl rimmed eyes and the soul that spoke to her. His piercing blue gaze stared into the deepest parts of her. She swore all of his lyrics were written about her life, and she knew they could heal one another’s broken hearts.
She’d just been getting out of a bad relationship when she first heard The Buzz come on the radio, with their hit song, and she listened to it on repeat.
She’d even dropped out of college to follow him around on tour. Every night she styled her bottle-blonde hair into a wild mess of curls and she hoped her dark eyes and full lips and tiny bra tops would entice him. Finally, one night, it did, and she was invited backstage.
That was when he invited her to his private concert, on an island in the tropical Caribbean. He’d told her it was a fundraiser, just a small show for a select few very special fans.
He even shelled out for a private jet for her.
But when she stepped off the luxurious jet, dressed in her nicest and sluttiest black dress with her suitcase in hand, she wasn’t expecting what she saw as she was driven towards her hotel.
Everything seemed so rustic and quaint, as if she’d gone back in time a hundred years. Even the fine manor that she pulled up in front of, with its colonial styling and large support beams out front, reminded her more of an old historical museum rather than the lavish hotel of the rich and famous.
Yet there he was, Flynt Slade, sat outside with his guitar in his lap, strumming idly as he rocked back and forth on the porch swing.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. He was dressed better than he did for his shows, in a nice pair of jeans and a black vest atop a white linen button down. He looked up as she arrived, sweeping his hand through his black hair, making it spike up a bit more.
“Hey, Ally,” he said, and she nearly fainted that he’d remembered her name. She inconspicuously pushed up her cleavage, though her push up bra did most of the work. She stepped towards him, her long, slender legs moving gracefully in her high heels.
She was almost over joyed, too excited to exist, and she couldn’t help that she went to him faster than she should have, acting like a little girl getting a puppy.
“Oh my God,” she said, looking up over the old building. “Is this really where I’m staying?”
“Yeah that’s right,” he said with a smile her way, that uneven expression so charming on his face. He looked like such a bad boy in every way. So handsome and dashing, a devious looking black goatee, and looks that could kill. Even if he wasn’t a musician, he could probably get away with murder on that devilish smile alone.
“We both are,” he remarked, strumming upon that guitar idly, producing such a hypnotic melody as he lowered his dark-rimmed eyes down to the instrument.
“Oh my God,” she repeated, this time louder and with more emphasis. Every bit of control she had was quickly slipping away as she closed the distance between them. She smelled of vanilla up close, her cleavage abs
olutely scandalous as she stared at him.
“I can’t even believe it,” she added on with a full scale blush, her tanned skin turning pink beneath her cheeks.
He looked back up at her, though not without stopping at her luscious breasts to stare a while.
“I like to come here to relax, get myself back together after a tour,” he said simply, in that dark voice of his that produced such beautiful lyrical sounds. “And a man can’t be expected to relax with a fine piece of ass around, now can he?” he remarked bluntly, looking back to his instrument and trying a few more chords.
Ally was such a smitten fan girl around him, so excited that he was checking her out that she barely comprehended his words. When they finally sank in, though, she blushed towards the ground, taking a step backwards and towards the house.
“Oh, yea, totally! I’m so sorry,” she said, her luggage resting against her firm leg. “Totally didn’t mean to interrupt your music, it’s just, I’m your biggest fan and had to, like, thank you for getting me this spot!”
He didn’t seem to pay her much mind, just playing some beautiful notes, practicing little pieces of what she no doubt thought would eventually become new masterpieces of his. Until finally he looked back at her in that scandalous outfit.
“Just leave your things out here,” he instructed her. “Your place is upstairs, right next to the big one. Mine. You can go up there, freshen up. Left a few treats in there for you, to help get you in the spirits before this evening,” he stated bluntly, though an offering of anything from him was something she couldn’t possibly refuse.
Immediately she set down her luggage, backing towards the door another foot or so.
“Oh my God,” she repeated, breathlessly. Right next to his? There was no restraining the thrill that gave her, blue eyes widening with such excitement!
“Okay! This evening, right, of course!” she said, though she had little idea what was in store for her. What plans he truly had for his willingly little groupie. But she could dream.