A Dame To Kill For: A Gaga and Taylor Fanfiction

Chapter 23: Feeling Myself

I tore off my shorts and tossed them onto the floor beside the bed. Finally, I was free from the insects and dirty campsite toilets. I was ecstatic to be in an air-conditioned apartment with a soft bed and refrigerator, even though I had always taken that for granted. Sure, it was a small matter to smile over, but in that moment, I was grateful for it.

I started to look into the free days in my daily planner, setting a few activities when I thought of one, leaving a bunch of dates free for sleeping in.

Once that was done, I didn't have anything else to do for the few hours left of the day before I had to go sleel. I was stuck in a hotel room while my own apartment was less than an hour away, but I couldn't go there because I was too lazy and it was too late for me to go out alone. I didn't have any friends around here at the moment, but it wasn't as if I had many to begin with.

Sighing, I took my miserable ass to the boudoir where a pile of little pouches full of makeup sat. The only thing I knew how to occupy myself with was this for now, I thought. But after five minutes of staring at myself, all I really liked on my face was a generous splash of red on my lips.

Maybe I just needed to fix my hair, I thought, playing around with the volume of my blonde, brown-rooted hair. Speaking of which, Frederic said was unhealthy to keep bleaching. Somehow, I ended up very attached to my dark roots. I found them cute.

While I was brushing my hair, I heard the doorbell ring followed by a soft knocking on the door. I rushed straight to it, begging that it wasn't some donation project or salesman but someone who intended to speak with me, not as a customer. Maybe it was Freddie coming to complain about my "ugly roots"? For sure he wasn't pleased after I posted a hideously obscene selfie on Instagram, but that was what the fans seemed to scream after. They always asked to "send nudes" anyway.

"Hey," he greeted with a smile. "All right... so that's not my hair stylist," I thought immediately as Taylor bumped into me as he slipped past me into the room. He was in such a rush to get in that it made me laugh. He was a lot different from the old Taylor I used to know. He wasn't so uptight and... scary.

"Can you go down and takeaway some food? Anything vegetarian, don't ask why. Supper time," I threw my keys over to him. He managed to catch them at the very end of his palm by the very tip of a key. Sighing, Taylor nodded. He couldn't really say no anyway or I'd kick him out.

He was still downstairs waiting to collect the food but the restaurant was probably so crowded the chefs were barely able to even remember it.

I lay down to think or maybe fall asleep but it wasn't easy to concentrate on what I intended to. I was having dirty thoughts, and they were bothering me. Obviously, there was some sort of a feeling below that had been invoked by my own imagination and I couldn't keep ignoring it anymore.

Quickly, I scrambled to turn off a few lights to dim the room and sat back in bed. I gave the clock a few seconds to pass as I wondered when he would be back. There was no excuse for me if he returned here to the sound of my distress. But I couldn't wait.

Guilty as ever, I started to touch myself. I had no control over what drifted in and out of my mind but I knew exactly what was happening. The only reason why I wasn't comfortable about doing this minutes ago was because I was dreaming about Taylor, and I knew it would be an absolute disaster if he walked in to me muttering his name.

Yet I ignored the fact that there was a possibility of all that happening. Closing my eyes, I quietly tended to my needs, softly saying his name as I imagined us in the old days. I was so close to losing it, but I was making myself wait like he used to do. It felt amazing, finally relieving myself after such a torturous experience of waiting and confusion combined.

I didn't even notice my own moaning but it was worse for me when I heard a sharp click and the chime of a set of keys. Of course, just as I let the precautions go. He was here, the man I was just thinking about.

"Stefani?" He squeaked, retreating to the nearby counter to place a styrofoam box containing my supper. His body language told me that he was feeling the utmost discomfort and I felt a wave of heat swarm my body and wrap itself so tightly around me that I could pop at any moment. This was extremely embarrassing. I knew what could have occured and I let it take place.

I didn't hesitate before covering my body and finding my clothes to put them back on. Taylor's eyes were hiding behind his hands that screamed disappointment right in my face. I bet he was just distraught about the state of the whore in front of him.

I made my way over to him once I was ready, but I was still feeling uneasy about how he would react and treat me after seeing me like that. The first thing I did was say sorry, but I wasn't going to touch his hand after what I had done with mine.

I even reached over to the hand sanitizer to create a puddle of it in my hands and get all of that sin off of me. Only after that did he finally look up at me. Yet, he wasn't satisfied. Did I need to recite a hundred bible verses about purity for him to be all right? Because if I did, he'd never want to speak with me again for sure.