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Pour Me Out (27)

"Pour me out on the concrete, next to your feet

Do I have to cry? Oh, can you hear me?"

- He is We, Pour Me Out

I was miserable.

I didn't want to be here. My suit was itchy along the back of my neck. I wanted to be at home helping the guys with a songwriting session, not sitting in a limo scowling out the window as I waited for my first dinner with Serena.

As we pulled to a stop outside of her hotel, I sighed before getting out of the car, leaning against the side of the door and flashing her a smile as she stalked out the hotel, all legs and high heels and short dress. Serena Walsh was a temptress at the best of times, well known in Hollywood for her habits, but didn't have much talent aside.

She was a supermodel, yes, but everyone knew she started out on Playboy magazines. It wasn't uncommon knowledge.

I greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, murmuring a hello, then opened the door to the limo and helped her inside for the benefits of the paparazzi. After I jogged around the back to slide into my own seat, I forced a smile for her benefit and nodded to the driver before sliding the dark glass between us closed.

Serena's brown eyes scrolled over me coyly when I turned to look at her. When they reached my face again, she flashed a perfect, rather seductive smile. "Shane Walter," she said, reaching out to trail her fingers down my wrist before taking my hand. "How are you, darling? When I saw the guitar, I just had to pick it up. It's so you."

She didn't know me. She never had and I was adamant on never letting her grow to know me. Serena was nothing more than a part of my job, and we'd be "together" for a few weeks before I found a way out of it. She didn't need to know me.

I forced a smile. "I never got to thank you," I said, and her hand squeezed mine a bit. She leaned forwards, allowing me a good look down the front of her skin tight black dress. "There's a few ways I could think of for you to show it," she answered with a coy smile.

I smiled a bit. Serena was hot as hełl, with olive skin and dark, wavy hair, as well as a tendency to wear clothes that flaunted her mile-long legs and t¡te the size of grapefruits - she was the type of girl I'd rather see on a poster than in real life, not when I was this tired, not when I'd have to spend my night making small talk.

She was the whorė that every guy wanted, but only for a night. I was no different - but I was stuck with her.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I slid it out of my pocket, discreetly glancing down at it.

the helł is going on - Tess

did you seriously break up with Sadie and run to her wtf - Tess

I sighed to myself, sliding it back in my pocket. Serena slid a bit closer, glancing at the dark glass between us and the driver. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied automatically. She leaned forwards with a sexy smile I guaranteed she'd practiced, one hand resting on my chest, the other slowly sliding up the inside of my thigh. I stiffened, and she smiled at me before turning to the driver's glass and making sure it was closed before leaning forwards and pressing her mouth to mine.

It was something strange, how we both knew that there were probably cameras dying to see into the limo's windows, that this kiss between strangers would be the reason a single pap would drive away in a brand new Ferrari if they got a picture - yet we did it anyways.

Serena's mouth was warm and her lipgloss was kind of slimy, but her hand was continuing up my thigh and, after considering it for just a moment, I shifted to pull her towards me, only to feel her resist.