"So... who are you with?" The burly security guard steps forward, barring your way.
"I'm with the band," you say, your voice loaded with suggestiveness, and it doesn't go unnoticed.
He raises an eyebrow, taking in your too-tight dress and cherry red...
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"Arabella! Where've you been? I've been looking for you everywhere!"
"Sam!" I say, not being able to keep the surprise out of my voice. "I was just... errr... just... umm there was a massive queue for the toilet!"
I feel flustered, caught out, the knowledge of what I've just been doing at the forefront of my mind, like everyone is going to take one look at me and know exactly what I've been up to. It doesn't help that I'm no doubt wearing the tell-tale flush that always stains my skin when I climax, my cheeks and upper chest glowing with it. I've also realised too late that I left the scene of the crime minus my panties and I cringe inside, picturing them lying discarded on Van's hotel room floor, wondering if Larry might have spotted them. That could be awkward.
Sam's chatting away to me, completely oblivious to my embarrassment whilst I stretch the hem of my short dress further down my thighs, still feeling the sticky wetness of my arousal as I press my legs together.
Van really is something. He's certainly got hidden talents that go way beyond his song writing skills. No one else has hit the spot quite like that before quite so quickly. It's like he knew every inch of my body already without ever having been acquainted with it. I wonder whether he just has a natural affinity for these things or whether he's slept with so many girls that he's become like some kind of orgasm-giving aficionado.
Probably the latter I think bitterly, surprised and dismayed by the sting of jealousy which shoots through me. I quickly push it aside. Of course I'm not jealous. I'm only interested in having a good time. And Van's not the only one who can provide that.
"Are ya listening to anything I've been saying?"
Sam's face swims into view and I realise that I've completely zoned out, thinking about Van. I recover quickly with a flirtatious remark, curling a hand around Sam's waist and drawing him near to talk closely into his ear. It seems to be working, but as I look over his shoulder I see Van approaching with a face like thunder.
I ignore him, switching my attention back to Sam, expecting him to just storm past, but to my complete shock I feel a large firm hand closing around my wrist.
"Hey whatcha doing?" Sam calls out, confusion clear on his face as Van pulls on my arm, wrenching me away from him.
"Yeah Van, what the hell?" I add, trying to pull back but he's too strong and I'm too tipsy to put up a fight.
"I want a word with you!" He says, his voice stern, and he keeps pulling, dragging me with such force it makes me stumble over my feet.
"Hey Van... be careful with her mate!" Sam calls, stepping forward, concerned. "You okay Bella?"
I consider kicking up a fuss but reluctantly decide that it's not worth it, I've only just met Sam tonight and I don't want to jeopardise things because of Van's childish moodiness. I mumble that I'm fine and traipse after Van, muttering that I'm coming and he can let go of my arm, but he doesn't. He keeps a firm grip as he marches me from my spot on the terrace back into the hotel suite. I think he's going to take me back to his room but he stops short, guiding me into the kitchen area and coming to a stop in front of me whilst I lean up against the wall.
