Haze - By Andrea Wolfe Page 0,118

a real groupie," I said proudly. "My life's dream, finally fulfilled tonight when I sleep with a rock star."

"Right," Jack said huskily. He leaned forward and kissed my neck, slowly crawling down my flesh until his tongue was in the swell of my cleavage. "You always taste so sweet."

"I bathe in sugar," I said wryly.

"That's so stupid," he said, giggling even though he acted as if he didn't want to.

"I don't want to hear about it. Those subs smell so good and it's clouding my judgment."

"Understandable," he said, sitting down and sliding the pile of napkins near us.

We ate quietly together, the rest of the label employees gone for the day. It happened this way most days, Jack and I being the last people here and having to close up shop. He seemed to enjoy maintaining the space. It was nice—certainly much better than the typical indie label—but a lot smaller than MCI, obviously.

It was so cute watching Jack sweep the floors and straighten things out on his desk prior to leaving every night. He took such pride in the label, the only business in the world that was truly his, free from any outside intrusion or input.

Tonight, however, he skipped the chores so we could keep our schedule.

The limo was already outside waiting for us, and the trip back to his place was short.

Jack requested that I wear the ruby red chiffon swing dress I had purchased the previous week, so I obliged. As soon I walked out clad in the dress, his eyes crawled up and down me in the sleaziest fashion possible.

"What the fuck, Jack?" I complained, my words as hollow as could be. I actually loved when he looked at me like that.

"I think we should just skip the concert and I'll fuck you in every room of the house. On every piece of furniture too."

I shook my head. "You always talk like that, and then after the second or third time, you're tired out. What about my needs?" I couldn't stop grinning, my sarcasm like a storm.

"I get it," he said. "How many times do I have to make you come before you're happy?"

"I'm an eight to ten kind of girl." I gave him a firm wink.

"I guess I really need to practice, huh?"

I walked toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "You're so terrible, Jack." I kissed his cheek and squeezed his butt playfully. He returned the favor, and was hard seconds after I pressed against him. We both wanted it bad, but we just didn't have the time.

Jack pulled away abruptly, as if he had realized he'd be totally stuck to me if he didn't act soon. "I've got to get dressed."

A few minutes later, he emerged from his room wearing a tight black t-shirt and a pair of very tight, low-slung jeans. "Is this okay?" he said.

My jaw dropped. He looked like a fucking movie star, like the hottest man who had ever walked the earth. The simplicity of the outfit lent itself to him incredibly well. I instantly imagined a guitar stretched across his body, the women in the audience screaming, begging for a scrap of his attention as he strummed and howled into a microphone. Jack was a paragon of talent and beauty.

I almost passed out.

"You've never looked better." I took a deep breath and retained my composure.

"Hey," he said, "why are you blushing?"

My cheeks had become hot and red, the reason why not entirely clear to me. Maybe it was that I was finally witnessing this other part of his personality, as if I was meeting this Jack for the very first time. As usual, I was smitten nearly to death.

"I don't really know. Are you, uh, n-nervous?" I asked, attempting to change the subject away from my own weakness.

"Never. I used to get nervous, but then I realized my goals don't get accomplished if I don't go on stage. I actually do make mistakes sometimes—and I hide them well." He smiled as he toyed with his hair in the hall mirror. "But this might be my last tour, anyhow. Gotta give it my best."

The thought made me feel melancholy for some reason. I hadn't even seen him perform, and here he was, talking about retirement. It wasn't up to me, though. It never was, and it probably never would be. "You will." I said it ostensibly, but despite my lack of experience and understanding of what he really did, I knew it would turn out to

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