"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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I gently crack open my bedroom door and slip inside, tip-toeing over to the bed. Sam's rolled over and he's on his back again, this time spread-eagled out like a star-fish, gently snoring. I snigger to myself, perching on the side of the bed and reaching for my phone from my bag, seeing several WhatsApp notifications on the screen. I've not had chance to check my messages all night. I open up the first one and it's from Portia. Oh... so she has remembered that I exist then? Since she rudely cut off my call the other night she's not even attempted to call me back, despite promising to do so. The message is a photo of her in our favourite bar, fancy cocktail in hand, glossy lips puckered into a kiss with the greeting, Hi babe! Missing u x
I smile to myself, opening the next message. It's Portia again. In fact they're all from her, a running commentary of her night out with all of our London friends. Her last message is a photo of her sitting on the bonnet of Dominic's dad's Porsche holding a champagne flute in one hand and a pair of Valentino spike heels in the other with the caption 'Saturday night done properly... wish you were here xxx'
My smile grows. I'd thought Portia would be too busy having fun without me to give me a second thought but I've obviously been on her mind tonight. Suddenly I wish she was here to share all of this with me. Fair enough, she would have absolutely hated the sweaty gig and she wouldn't have been seen dead travelling there in the back of a rusty old transit van, but she would have gone crazy for partying at this lush hotel and quaffing champagne with music industry executive types. And as for meeting my present company... well, some things are just too good not to share.
I bite back a mischievous giggle as I turn around until I'm kneeling on the bed, then I reach over to where the thin duvet is resting over Sam's bare hips, pulling it carefully aside. I raise up my phone, opening up the camera app and taking a few quick shots of him lying there in all of his naked glory.
Fuck... he really is a vision. I take a moment to admire him, his beautifully chiselled features and serene expression, his surprisingly toned abs that are usually hidden by his baggy sweaters and t-shirts, his dick lolling temptingly to the side. I imagine taking a place between his spread thighs, leaning in and taking him into my mouth, giving him one hell of a rude awakening but I stop myself. The poor guy is obviously dead beat, he'd said as much himself. I don't want to push my luck right now, even if I am feeling unnecessarily horny. I know if I let him rest then he'll definitely make up for lost time when he awakens like he promised.
I'm just going to have to be careful about ushering him out of the hotel suite discreetly in the morning. I can only imagine the reactions I'll get from the boys if they find out I've lied to them about spending the night with him. Larry will no doubt go into full-blown protective big-brother mode and stifle me even further and Van will probably completely blow his top with his ridiculous childish jealousy. I'm pretty sure that Johnny will be the only one that will be even the slightest bit agreeable about it, but he'll probably distance himself even further from my advances if he thinks that I'm up for hooking up with every hot musician that wanders into my orbit.
