When Fangirls Lie (18 page)

“Aaah.” He couldn’t stop the groan from coming out his mouth even if he tried, the sensation of Saffi taking him in her mouth too beautiful to keep silent. She sucked him like the born temptress that she was, with a mixture of innocence and passion. His fingers kneaded her scalp but when she sucked him harder, his fingers instinctively gripped her hair more tightly.

Hearing the sounds of pleasure coming from Staffan was arousing, water no longer the only thing making her wet. She tried to take him in more deeply even though he was already so big his dick was forcing her lips to open more widely than ever.

“I’m coming.”

She squeezed his balls and sucked harder.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned as he came in her mouth, his dick going so deep into her throat Saffi almost choked. But she didn’t pull away, wanting to take it all in, needing to pleasure him in every way she could.

When he was spent, she expected him to soften, but his dick was still distended and pulsing when he pulled away. “Your turn,” he growled and pulled her up and then flipping her around to push her to the wall. As her breasts flattened against the cold wet marble, he entered her from behind, eliciting a whimper from Saffi.

He started to play with her breasts as he thrust in and out of her leisurely, making her pant in a mixture of frustration and feverish desire. “Please,” she begged.

“Please what?” He circled his dick inside Saffi to drive her even wilder with want.

She moaned. “Please, Staffan, please.
Faster
.”

But perversely he slowed down even more, making her sob pleadingly, “Staffan!”

He pulled out ever so slowly before slamming in hard, making her gasp as Saffi became flat against the wall again. “Like that?”

“Yes!” It was all she could say, with her body trembling as she continued seeing stars. And then he was furiously thrusting in and out of her, his dick seeming to swell larger and hardening even more with every penetration. The slap of his balls against her wet skin was extremely erotic and she wriggled her hips against him, wanting more.

His fingers bit into her hips as he shifted her position, and that small change allowed his dick to sink further into her moist depths. “Aaaaah.” She let out a long moan as his fingers found her clit. He started working on her clit in rhythm with his thrusts and her hips started to buck wildly against him. “Staffan, Staffan---Staffan!”

She shattered around him, and he held her through the violent storm of her pleasure, biting her shoulder to intensify the sensation. She let out another keening cry, and it spurred Staffan to move faster, quick hard shoves until he was coming as well.

Almost an hour later, finally done with shower and replete with a hearty breakfast, the two of them walked back into the stage area, with Staffan’s arm possessively curled around her waist. Everyone from the crew greeted them happily enough, their tones respectful but their eyes filled with curiosity. There were a few fangirls and groupies around as well. The Gs looked at her with good-natured envy while the fangirls obviously loathed her on sight.

“Slut,” one of the fangirls hissed as Staffan and Saffi walked past.

Staffan stiffened.

Not wanting Staffan to get mad at his fans – knowing how horrible that would be since she was also one of them – she pretended to play dumb and asked Staffan with feigned bemusement, “How did she know that?”

Staffan forced himself to relax. “Maybe it has to do with the fact that you’re not wearing any underwear,” he whispered back. Even as he smiled at Saffi’s predictable sound of distress, he was also giving Bob a look to make sure that there would not be a repeat of what had happened. Nobody fucking messed with what was his, and Saffi was definitely that, perhaps even the most important thing in his life right now.

His bodyguard correctly interpreted his command, and Bob immediately turned around to instruct the rest of the security team how to handle this latest bout of trouble.

The other bodyguards changed position, discreetly but effectively blocking the view of the other girls this time. They weren’t escorted out of the premises but they wouldn’t get anything out of being there either. It was the most devious of revenges, which was exactly how Staffan wanted Bob to play it.

The whole world might have forgotten that he was once born of the streets, but Staffan hadn’t. Before being the stepson of a billionaire, a rockstar famous around the globe, he had once been nothing---a hapless child forced to throw away his innocence and rely on a combination of bullish strength and cunning to survive.

“Stop scowling at them.”

He couldn’t help scowling at her this time. “Are you truly going to defend them after what they called you?”

“I am a G.”

He bit back a sharp retort, knowing it was better to keep pretending that he had believed in her disguise.

“They were just carried away,” she said as she touched his arm in a soothing gesture. “They love you so much, you know. They’ll do anything for you.”

“H…you are too fucking nice.” Staffan took a deep breath.

She winced, realizing that Staffan was about to give her another long scolding. But before he could start, someone was calling his name and Saffi whirled around in relief. Saved by the---choreographer!

Eddie waved at them frantically to come over.

Staffan grimaced. “I have to go. He’s always panicky during concert days.” He walked her to a vacant row of seats. “You’ll be okay here?”

She nodded, admitting shyly, “I’m kinda excited to see you practice dancing.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing special.”

Saffi gasped. “It is very special, excuse me!”

He laughed at her defensive tone. “Okay, okay. Don’t fight me – for me.”

She giggled, and he carried the sound of it in his heart as he went back to practice.

Staffan dancing on stage was already surreal, but seeing Staffan rehearsing, his body eventually becoming sleek with sweat, was even more so, like Saffi had been allowed a rare glimpse of heaven. And oh, oh, she would never get tired of seeing Staffan move!

Two hours later, Eddie officially called for a break. Saffi smiled when she saw how more relaxed Eddie seemed, which meant the rehearsal had met his expectations. She started to stand when an excited voice called out Staffan’s name. This time, she didn’t welcome the sound at all.

Saffi turned towards the sound and something inside her heart twisted painfully when she saw a lovely, dark-haired woman walk gracefully towards Staffan with an eager smile on her face.
Who was she?
Saffi had faithfully followed every media report on Staffan but she had
never
seen the older woman with him before.

Staffan stiffened when he heard Yanna call his name.
Fuck!
He had still intended his plan to push through but not like this. Not with everyone around.

Yanna finally reached him, and Staffan automatically kissed her on the cheek. She beat him to speaking, her eyes twinkling as she waved a folder in front of him. “I have the five best women here, Staffan! All you have to do is to choose who you want to date.” Then she wagged a finger at him. “But I know what happened last time and I don’t want it to happen in my watch so please – don’t make love to whoever you’re going to choose?”

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Saffi March commented on a photo posted by The Official Staffan Aehrenthal Stalker

I really, really, really love this man.

“There you are.” Saffi looked up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and then blinked several times when she realized who it belonged to. The tall dark-haired man standing before her was none other than Constantijin Kastein, once Netherlands’ #1 playboy, a part of the Three Pussketeers and one of Staffan’s closest friends.

Had she heard him right? Was he really looking for her?

She hastily blinked back her tears and tried not to be so obvious as she wiped those that have already left a wet trail on her cheeks. “M-may I help you?”

Someone had to tell her that groupies never spoke so politely,
Constantijin thought as he gazed at the young girl that had Staffan all twisted up in knots.

When Yanna had gone to the restroom before they went looking for Staffan, Constantijin had overheard several of his friend’s bodyguards talking among themselves in Swedish. It had been an interesting conversation, which revolved around a groupie called H and whom all of them held in affection.

And on the way to the stage area, with Yanna having gone ahead of him because she had been excited to show Staffan her personal picks, Constantijin had almost bumped into a young girl who had run past him in tears. He had only caught a partial look of her face, but it was more than enough. She was without a doubt the girl Staffan had been stalking online for months---the girl Constantijin suspected had caught Staffan’s heart, and now his friend was doing his best to cut his heart out rather than give it to another woman.

Constantijin had waited for Staffan to run after her. When it became clear that his friend wouldn’t do so, Constantijin had decided it was up to him to fix his friend’s mess before Staffan ended as miserable as he had been, when he had been similarly stupid and threw Yanna’s love back at her face.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. The girl’s doe-eyed looks made him feel like Staffan had beaten up a day-old puppy, tempting Constantijin to tell her that she was better off without his friend.

“I think I’m in a better position to help you instead,” he said gently as he handed her his handkerchief.

She shook her head.

“Please. I insist.”

“T-thanks.” The way “H” gave in so gracefully startled him. It began to dawn on him how she was the very opposite of Staffan, who was cruelty and rudeness personified. Looking at her, Constantijin felt distinctly at a loss of what he should say. Friendship prevented him from sharing Staffan’s secrets without his friend’s permission but standing by and doing nothing, when the young girl in front him looked like she was broken, completely went against the grain for him.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Saffi shook her head again. “I’m really quite all right. It’s just that the circumstances earlier were rather…upsetting.”

Somebody also had to tell her that groupies didn’t speak so formally, like a school teacher.

Constantijin nodded solemnly. Cocking his head to the side, he asked, “Are you part of the production team for Staffan’s concert?”

“No, sir.” Saffi answered the question absently, her mind back on Staffan and the anonymous women he would date. Then she realized how she had answered Staffan’s friend and froze, her eyes immediately darting to her companion. Dear God, she hoped he’d think she was being provocative with her ‘sirs’. That would be a very G thing to do. It was better than the truth, which was that she had instinctively called him ‘sir’ because she had been raised that way.

Constantijin again pretended not to notice her most recent slip even though he had the damnedest hard time trying not to grin. He was beginning to understand why Staffan appeared so enamored with this girl. “Are you working here then?”

“I’m one of Staffan’s groupies.” To improve her disguise, Saffi dug inside her pocket for a gum and quickly popped into her mouth. Pride filled her when she was able to blow it out carefully.

Another thing she had to know that groupies did not blow bubbles like it was a matter of life and death,
Constantijin thought, having an even harder time keeping his lips from twitching.
And that gum-popping groupies were a cliché.

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me for asking, but are you crying because of something Staffan did?”