She's made no secret of her dislike for me and my "lifestyle". The whole world knows about it. What the whole world doesn't know, however, is what goes on when the cameras stop rolling, and when we're alone together...
Being hated never felt so good...
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"Did you just call me Beyonce? As in your co-actress?"
"N-no, I--"
_
"Yeah, you did." She looked at me both offended and shocked.
I couldn't have called Beyonce's name out while another woman was fucking me. That was such a rookie mistake. Okay, so she was the person I was imagining, but no way could I have screwed up that badly. Could I?
"You must have misheard-"
"I think I heard pretty clearly." She removed her hand."Wow."
"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking," I pleaded, not so much to save my lost orgasm, as to save face. Besides, it was terrible etiquette to do what I had apparently just done. The worst.
"I do. You were thinking about your co-actress." She stepped away from me.
I jumped down off the counter and picked up my top.
"Now it all makes sense. You know, I wondered why you agreed to go out with me. Everyone knows you have a type, and I'm not it. But now I get it."
"There's nothing to get," I insisted, defensively."And it really isn't what you think." I had never gotten dressed so fast before."I think I'd better go now."
"That's a good idea."
Once I'd left the apartment, it took a little while for everything to sink in.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed, as the elevator took me to the first floor. Beyonce was right about everything. I'd agreed to the date because of her. I'd thought about her while someone else was fucking me. And worst of all, she'd been right that my date would never compare to her in that department.
I had never noticed how whiny Beyonce was until I was already pissed off with her.
"Why the hell would it be delayed by two hours?" She sprung from her seat for the hundredth time since arriving at Philadelphia International Airport, and threw her hands in the air, vexed.
"What are they doing, building the goddamn aircraft from scratch?"
Noah, Beyonce and I were all waiting in the the Business Class Lounge for our flight to the Ax and Dagger Con, an annual convention for all things crime, held each year in Las Vegas. This was our second year attending.
I recalled Beyonce kicking up a familiar fuss last year; however, back then I'd thought it amusing.
Now, while I sat beside Noah, having spent the past two hours listening to her bitch and whine about everything from the lounge seats to the room temperature, I just found her voice annoying.
Though I was sure that was more to do with the fact that, once again, she was acting like nothing had happened between us. No one would have guessed that she'd fingered me in my trailer only three weeks prior. And just a few days ago, she'd cornered me in the restroom, once again close to kissing me. Her act was so good that it had me questioning myself: Did it really happen, or did I imagine the whole thing?
"It's just two hours. This is nothing," Noah said, always the voice of reason. But even his voice showed signs of impatience.
"Of course you wouldn't have a problem with the wait. You're Irish or something. You could see the bright side in a pitch black room! Nothing pisses you people off."
"British and I can think of a couple of things..." Noah said, cutting her a look.
She didn't notice - she was too busy being annoyed. And now she had begun to gripe in Spanish or French, or a mixture of the two. It was something she did regularly on set.
"She does know we can't understand her, doesn't she?" I asked.
"I'm guessing that's the reason she's doing it. She's probably insulting us right now."
"Just wait till she finds out that she's seated beside me for five hours," I whispered to him. "Bet she'll be thrilled."
Of course, she was anything but thrilled. But by the time we finally got onto the plane and into our seats, she had tired herself out complaining, and wasn't as vocal as I thought she would be.
"This is obviously the network's idea of a joke." She glared at me as I fell into my window seat right beside her.
"Seating us together when they know we don't get along."
"I'm sure they didn't think much about it." I was hardly paying attention to her. Or, at least, I was pretending not to pay attention to her. I pulled out a magazine from my bag and flicked through it.
"Well this is about to be the most unpleasant five hours of my life." She slouched in her seat.
"Why? Are you afraid my gayness will run off on you?" I didn't look up from my magazine, knowing that she was probably shooting me daggers. "Any more than it already has."
I could feel her stare burning into me. I didn't dare look at her.
When she spoke again, her voice was lowered, and she had edged a little closer to me so that I, and only I, could hear what she had to say. "No, I'm afraid that the woman I fucked will want me to engage in smalltalk with her. And if her conversation is as fluid as her pussy when I'm around, she'll talk my ear off the whole flight."
Although I couldn't see how red my face had become, I knew it must have been severe, because when I looked at Beyonce she was grinning victoriously at me, studying my face. "Why would you say something so nasty?" I asked.
"You started it." She shrugged. "Plus, I like to remind you every now and then, to keep you in your place."
"All you're really doing by repeatedly bringing it up is reminding me that you're a hypocrite. The biggest hypocrite out there."
Her face turned serious. "Don't presume to know me, Onika."
"I know you better than most. And I know that you're a coward."
"You wanna know what I know?" The smirk returned to her lips. "I know that you make this funny little squeaky noise in your throat when you're about to cum. And I know that you're as tight as a virgin." She pulled the gum she was chewing out of her mouth and stuck it on my magazine.
I couldn't stay there, not after that. I leaped out of my seat, found Noah at his and begged him to switch seats with me. He must have seen the desperation, the despair in my eyes, because instead of arguing with me, he agreed almost immediately. He would be fine beside the witch that was Beyonce Knowles. She had nothing to hold over his head, nothing to make him feel small and dirty.
