"Okay, I guess I've been a bit preoccupied since last night."
"Last night...that would be when you rolled in at god-knows-what-time, young lady?" Helen folded her arms across her chest, peering across at Kelly and doing a fair impression of a disapproving mother figure.
Despite her mood, Kelly managed to smile. "This morning."
"Dare I ask if you had a good time?" Jojo said, with curiosity.
Kelly sighed. "It was the best sex I ever had."
Jojo shifted awkwardly in her chair, focusing her attention on Kelly. "Go, girl! So, did you get his number?"
"It wasn't like that." Nothing to lose, she reminded herself.
"Oh, I see," Helen said, looking smug. "You've done one of your one night stand flits on this poor man and now you're regretting it. Admit it."
"Not quite, but kind off." Pride stopped Kelly from pointing out that he had been the one to do the flit, but they had a point. She was regretting it.
Jojo watched on with an innocent expression. It was her specialty. "So what's stopping you? If anyone can hunt the man down, you can." She burst out laughing and Helen joined her, reaching over to chink her glass.
Kelly took another sip of her wine as the suggestion began to ricochet in her mind, setting off all sorts of mad ideas. She got to her feet, walking up and down the length of the sitting room. Why the hell not? She could hunt him down. Hell, she'd use him the way he'd used her. Sexually. Her body burned with anticipation at the very thought of it. She wanted another night with Tommy and she was going to go after it.
"Ooh, I sense trouble." Jojo faked a scared expression as she watched Kelly pacing up and down.
"I think you've set her off," Helen said.
"Yes, you have." Kelly grinned. "Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I have some research to do."
Jojo saluted her. "Go, soldier. Hunt your target down and hunt him well."
Kelly returned the salute and then darted off to her bedroom, unfazed about the laughter following in her wake.
Inside her room, she flicked her computer on. There was only one way to track Tommy down, and that was through Clayton Warren himself. Her mind whirred over as she considered her options. She'd have to play the groupie all over again, but this time she had to do it more cleverly. She needed to find out Tommy's name and get to him.
She scoured the message boards on Clayton's fan forum. It didn't take long for her to discover that in the wake of his tour, he was spending a few days in the recording studio, before taking a month's vacation. It didn't say which studio, but some quick detective work on the sleeve of his latest CD gave her a name, the Celtic. He may not be using the same venue, but judging from the thank you messages, he liked the place. It was a good starting point, and she was on an early shift the next morning, so she could stake it out in the afternoon. She could also ring his agent, try for an interview. Ideas were coming fast and furious now.
That night she couldn't sleep, inspired now that she had decided to track him down. "If you thought I was a crazy lady last night, Tommy, just wait till I get hold of you again."
Smiling into the darkness she rolled across her bed, restless. Her hands roved over her body, sensation flashing beneath her skin as she remembered how hot it had been. She tweaked her nipples, pulling on them as they grew harder. One hand went lower, and she stroked her pussy, squeezing it with her hand, promising herself a night of total pleasure. She would take his glorious body for her own pleasure.
As she squeezed and stroked her labia she pictured his body, his strong muscles trapped, his body bound for her pleasure. One finger tapped her clit, the simple movement setting bolts of stimulation free in her groin. His cock had given her so much intense pleasure, orgasm after orgasm. She wanted to play with it, make it hers again. Her hand grappled for the bedside drawer. Opening it, she pulled out her vibrator. Moonlight glinted off the silver rocket in the darkness. Flicking it on, she
ran it over her clit and then lower, into her damp slit.
"Tommy," she whispered. "I want you, and I'm going to have you."
She rode the vibrator in and out, her free hand clutching at her breasts, moving from one to the other, massaging them. They were full with need, her nipples so taut they hurt.
"I'm going to punish you, Tommy, punish you for leaving me." She whispered the words into the darkness. They had crept up from somewhere deep inside her and, even as she said them, her heart raced up a notch. Yes, he had punished her. Now it was his turn to take it.
Her climax built on the horizon. She moved the vibrator faster, pulling it out to send a rabid hum through her clit with the shaft against it, before shoving it deep inside again.
Raw pleasure and determination to overcome him flew around her veins. When she came, she sat up, wedging the vibrator inside her, a guttural moan filling the room as she ground hard on it, her imagination flying with images of Tommy at her beck and call.
Chapter Four
The Celtic studio was a single doorway wedged in between an alternative clothes shop and an antiquarian bookstore. Glancing up, Kelly guessed the studio itself was upstairs. Sure enough, the windows above the shops on either side were all blacked out and had the studio logo on them. Pulling a map out of her backpack, she adopted a confused expression and walked through the door.
Inside, a narrow hallway led to a small reception area where a figure sat behind a shiny black desk. Plush carpeting silenced her footsteps. The door had closed behind her, blocking out the busy street noise. The place was swish, and soundproofed. The walls were lined with framed vinyl records. Kelly looked at them with curiosity as she passed. The receptionist, a lean punk with a shock of red hair, was dressed in shiny black and would have merged into her black desk, had it not been for the pale skin and the red hair.