Damn. You think I would have gotten used to seeing his body while I was on tour with him, but every time I lay my hungry eyes on him, his body looks more delicious.
“Have you seen my diary?” My words come out shakier than an earthquake, and I cross my right Greek sandal across my other.
He swaggers to his black backpack that’s next to the dresser, swaps his stained shirt for a clean white t-shirt, and pulls it over his head. “It has Ariel, The Little Mermaid on it.”
If he read it then my life is over with.
I’ve written sex poems about him.
I’ve written sex fantasies of him taking my virginity.
We aren’t friends and we aren’t enemies. He’s spoken to me to tell me how beautiful I am and how good I would look riding his dick. And I bet my life savings—thirty million dollars, to be exact—that he tells every groupie he comes across that. That’s how our relationship rolls. Felix is the biggest flirt. He’d flirt a nun out of her clothes before she realized it, and she’d be standing there asking what happened. And for that reason alone, I don’t take what he says serious. He’s the most dangerous man to the women’s population because he knows how sexy he is. And he uses it to his advantage. When we were on tour, he brought a few groupies to his hotel room. And my dumb heart raged with jealousy. But I have no right to be jealous, because his bed is always warm for me. Every week, he asks me to spend the night in his hotel room and every time, I use my pride as a shield to turn him down.
His facial expression is calm as an autumn night, and I want to bathe in his calmness, so I can get rid of my anxiety. He steps closer as he stares into my eyes like he knows my heart and soul.
Like he knows my secrets.
I drown in the depths of his eyes.
Felix was brought up in wealth. But unlike any rich person I’ve met, he doesn’t flaunt it, nor dress like it. He’s a chameleon, blending in with the middle and lower class while his father owns half of Atlanta’s real estate. My parents bought their manor from him a few years back. Felix is a mystery, and moody and broody at times. Maybe that’s why I want him. Out of all his bandmates, he’s the nicest. In fact, he’s the glue that keeps them together.
I need to find that diary fast.
“Why would it be in here?” He lifts his thick eyebrow, his mouth twitches, and he folds his arms across his chest.
I lean against the dresser, twisting my expensive watch around my wrist. He turns me into a puddle of lust and ball of jitters at the same time. “It was the last place I saw it when we had a meeting earlier.”
His cologne invades my nostrils. He’s smells like sap from pine tree.
“It’s rude to go through people’s shit.” His words fire at me, and guilt coils in my stomach like a snake. His eyes sweep over my legs, then my breasts, then back to my eyes. Lust burns so much in his eyes that it can melt down this whole arena. He’s every bit of a lion ready to pounce on his prey
I’m not ugly. I’m beautiful. My mother used to tell me when I was growing up that I was blessed with such beauty to kill off the male population.
My eyes are the same color as coal, and I have toned legs thanks to my workouts, four times a week. I’m fun-sized, and my skin is smooth and ivory.
We stare at each other as if we’re two warriors holding up our shields, ready for war.
“I wasn’t going through your stuff. I was backtracking my steps.”
I glance down at my watch. “You have to be on stage in ten minutes. Chop, chop.” I snap my fingers. “You don’t want to piss off your fans.” My tone is light as a feather.
Then I tug on his rock-hard bicep and avoid eye contact, not letting him see the excitement glinting in my eyes. Goosebumps make their debut onto my arms as my head feels lighter than a balloon. I look forward to watching them perform; their performances stir deep emotions inside me and tug at my gut so that I’ve teared up a few times. And I’m not much of a crier, either.
“Whoa, hold your horses, Thumbelina.” His smile brightens up the room and steals the breath out of my chest. His smile is cool drops of rain licking my heated skin. “Meet me at my house tonight. So I can lick your clit until you’re screaming my name.” His words touch me in places that I want him to caress.
“Not happening.” I shake my head and chew on the end of my index finger, smearing red lipstick on my finger.
I’m not in the business to lose my virginity right now, I’m too focused on becoming CEO of my dad’s company, and Felix would be a distraction. A sexy, delicious, distraction I don’t need.
He gives me a shit-eating grin and his eyebrows draw together, hooking his finger on my belt loot. “Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely.” My confidence is faker than breasts implants.
He showcases his panty-dropping smirk. “We’ll see.”
“Arrogant doesn’t look good on you.”
I roll my eyes so hard they might fall out of their sockets. With my hand still glued to his hard bicep, I give it a light squeeze because I love the way the hardness feels under my fingers. The most attractive part on a man is his arms.
He tilts his head to the side. “Playing hard to get doesn’t suit you. You think I don’t notice the fire that burns between us. The burning need to rip each other’s clothes off and fuck each other until we’re out of breath. You’re hot for
