Seeing the tears brightening the younger girl’s eyes, Carmina stuck her foot just as Mitch walked past her, catching the other woman in surprise and causing her to fall flat on her face. Her friend shut the door on Mitch’s face, which was slowly turning purple with outrage.
Carmina touched Saffi’s shoulder hesitantly. “Hey.” This one was definitely new to a G’s world. No G she knew in her entire life was this…soft. Carmina’s lips trembled with suppressed laughter as the younger woman tried to sniff back her tears with a loud odd sound, something like a cross between a pig’s snort and a car’s honking horn.
Saffi forced herself to smile. “Thanks for helping me.”
When the other girl released another one of her freaky snorts, Carmina’s hand trembled in her effort not to let her laughter out. “It’s…ah…okay.” She cleared her throat, willing the laughter to go away, staring hard at Saffi’s face because she didn’t want to look at the other Gs. They were all laughing silently, those horrible bitches. Couldn’t they see that this girl was completely distraught?
Yet another snort came out from Saffi’s delicate, rosebud-shaped mouth, and Carmina bit her lip hard.
After clearing her throat several times, Carmina told Saffi, “Don’t worry about the backstage pass, hon. We groupies have our own way of getting in.”
Ten minutes later, and Saffi wasn’t sure if she had heard Carmina and the bouncer – who wasn’t the same guy that let her out earlier –were saying.
“Cock knob?” she echoed faintly.
What the heck was that?
~~~
“Err, boss, I think you need to come out.” Bob stood at the doorway of Staffan’s dressing room, glancing over his shoulder worriedly as he spoke.
Staffan bit back an impatient retort, not wanting anyone to know how he was burning to have Saffi March back in his arms again. He had so many plans for her, and the way he had imagined countless ways to make Saffi his had added a throatier tone to his voice and an earthier feel to his moves on stage. The result: pandemonium, with women literally fainting and having to be carried away in stretchers.
“I’m busy.” It had been fifteen minutes since his concert had ended. What the f**k would he do if Saffi never came back? Had what happened onstage too much for her? Also, there was the mystery about her ridiculously sexy as hell outfit for tonight’s concert. Not one in her 357 photos in Facebook had Staffan seen Saffi dressed anything less than preppy and prim, so why had Saffi suddenly shown up practically half na**d tonight?
“Boss, you really need---”
“I told you---”
“It’s that girl you made me look for, boss. I’m afraid she’s about to do a c**k knob---”
Staffan didn’t hear the rest of what Bob had to say, running past him at those words. And he had never ever run so fast in his entire life. Absolutely no way in hell would Saffi March do that kind of thing for anyone but him!
He spied them seconds later, his eyes widening in horror when he saw Saffi - a mixture of embarrassment and determination on her tiny heart-shaped face –as she reached out to stroke the bouncer’s c**k like a knob---a groupie’s way of gaining backstage entry.
“ALBERT!”
Saffi jerked her hand away at the roar the same time the bouncer in front her quickly turned his back to her, stiffening at the knowledge that Staffan was calling his name.
She looked at Staffan, who was talking to Bob between clenched teeth. Did he know she was here? She wanted to call his name but felt too shy to.
“Call his name,” Carmina urged.
“I can’t.” She didn’t want Staffan to think she had become an airhead all of a sudden just because he---
“Yoo-hoo!” Carmina yelled loudly, waving her arm. “Staffan, the girl you hand selected is here and she lost her backstage pass!”
Staffan’s head slowly lifted.
Their eyes met, and just that one glance had Saffi running out of oxygen. Oh God, even Staffan appearing mad at her just made him look even more gorgeous.
Staffan took his time crossing the hallway, ignoring the outraged gasps coming from the other women who had backstage passes. The wide-eyed look on Saffi’s face made Staffan want to shake her. Didn’t she realize how close she had been to staining her hands with another man’s cock?
She was his. She had no f**king right to touch any man’s c**k for as long as he wanted her.
Staffan’s gaze strayed to her hands, which she was wringing. It made him think about those lovely white hands wrapped around his cock. He froze for a moment then abruptly turned his back to Saffi, not wanting her to see how aroused he was.
It wasn’t the right time yet – not when he still had to make her squirm and force her to tell the truth. What the f**k was she playing at, making him worry that she had left him without any intentions of coming back?
He told Bob what he wanted to happen and stalked back to his dressing room, knowing he needed more than a few moments to get his raging erection back in control.
Bob hurried to Saffi. “You are so dead,” he whispered to her.
Saffi didn’t let Bob drag her away, not when Carmina and the others were also there. She looked over her shoulder.
Carmina blew her a kiss. “Good luck.” Under her breath, she muttered to herself, “You sure will need it.” Carmina had seen the look in the Sex God’s face. Although she wanted a chance to f**k Staffan as well, she knew that it was impossible. That man only had eyes for the girl Staffan’s bodyguard was currently asking to queue up with the other women who had backstage passes.
“Why is there a line?” Carmina heard Saffi ask in confusion.
She mentally shook her head. That was it. Saffi was not a groupie, and she doubted the other girl had ever been one. Any self-respecting G would have known right away what that line was for.
Gs knew what rockstars really were – assholes who were too f**king good on bed --- but Saffi clearly didn’t.
Carmina sighed in exasperation even as she gave Albert a come-hither smile, liking the impressive bulge behind his pants.
Fangirls.
Chapter Three
Pinterest, a photo of Staffan Aehrenthal on stage
Starry_eyed4SA: Say hello to my husband (he doesn’t know we’re married).
Staffan sat in front of them, bare-chested, one arm stretched along the back of the leather couch, which spanned the entire length of one wall. As his lazy gaze touched them one by one, Saffi tried to look as cool and at ease as the nine other girls with her inside his dressing room even though she had absolutely no idea what was about to happen.