The Last Blues We're Ever Gonna Have

Chapter 4

Luxe turned the faucet all the way down, the stream of water from her shower head ceasing it's flow. She needed to hurry and get ready but she was so wiped out from her work out with Natasha. They'd finished taping late the night before and even though it was Saturday, and her day off, Natasha had texted her to remind her that she had a session at 10 am.
Luxe had arrived two minutes late, dragging from lack of rest and trying to drink her coffee as fast as she could without scalding her mouth, when Natasha had pounced on her. She'd made Luxe review the basic stances and blocks with Muay Thai before proceeding to hand Luxe her own ass in a practice fight, because Natasha believed in 'Learning by Doing'. Her shins may never recover, they were so bruised.
She squeezed the excess water from her hair before pushing aside the shower curtains and grabbing the grey towel hanging on its hook. She quickly wrapped the towel around her body and stepped over the edge of the tub, walking the three steps to the sink. She wiped her hand over the fogged mirror to reveal her own face staring back at her. She stared at herself, taking in all the details of her face. Sometimes it still amazed her that her own reflection could be absolutely familiar and startlingly foreign all at once.
Lucy Hale had been an absolute mouse of a girl, with a slightly crooked nose, heart shaped face and a scar on her prominent chin from the buckle of her father's belt. She'd stood in such a way that made her look as small as possible, face always turned downward, never making eye contact for longer than necessary. Short and skinnier than she should have been for a young adult thanks to a foster mother who padlocked her fridge and had some weird kink about controlling food portions. As a child, Lucy had insisted on keeping her hair short, a messy pixie cut that really didn't flatter her face but prevented anyone from using her hair as a means of subduing her.
Luxe stood, trying to reconcile the face she had known since birth with the one before her now. Gone was the scar-mostly, there was still a slight mark on the underside of her reshaped chin-and her nose was now straight. She was a good twenty pounds heavier than she had been the day she graduated high school, though most of that was now muscle thanks to Natasha. She stood straight and tall-still short but no longer trying to make herself invisible, shoulders back instead of hunched forward. Her hair fell down to the middle of her back, long and full and much thicker than she ever realized it would be. New face. New name. New city. New person. Maybe....
Luxe had changed her name the day she turned eighteen, used the money she received from the state as a foster child to pay for plastic surgery on her face, worked two jobs to help pay for what college grants and scholarships didn't cover, even used the free counseling services the campus offered, all in an attempt to forget that she had ever been Lucy Hale.
Luxe cast a glance around the dingy bathroom. Maybe she hadn't done as good a job as she'd thought. Everything about Brad had screamed "Mistake!" but his cocky smirk, drool worthy abs, porn-worthy sex drive, and heartfelt apologies every time he fucked up made Luxe say 'Just give him one more chance'. He hadn't even had the decency to say he was leaving, simply packing his shit-and a good portion of hers-and left while she was at work. Didn't even leave a note, simply leaving her absolutely broke and without even a car. And yet, Luxe couldn't say that she'd been left heartbroken at his sudden departure. No, she would've had to give her heart to him first, and that was something Luxe Harris-or even Lucy Hale-refused to give to anyone. No, she'd been far more upset and being stuck in her shit hole apartment, with zero savings.
But, even though her apartment was definitely in the shady part of town, it did have certain perks. The landlord and his wife, for one, were very kind and diligent about fixing any broken amenities. And very few paparazzi were willing to mill about in this part of town. Not that paparazzi ever really followed Luxe. She was still relatively unknown. The one time she had been photographed was after leaving an interview with a late night show host after last season had aired. She'd been in the company of Jem, they'd appeared on the show together to promote Clandestine. The interview had been an amazing experience for Luxe and the host had been very interested in hearing about her injury during the final episode. But it had been awkward as well, pretending to be friendly with Jem instead of acting like they barely tolerated each other.
She'd nearly faltered when she was asked during the interview how she felt as the new girl in the cast, but Luxe had smiled and gushed about how everyone had made her feel welcome and how working on the show was like being part of a family. It wasn't entirely a lie...the crew was generally kind to her and, well, the subdued hostility from her cast mates was very reminiscent of every 'family' experience she'd had. And, if nothing else, Luxe's childhood had given her the skills to pretend that nothing was wrong.
She should have gotten an award for that little bit of acting, she'd thought bitterly to herself after the interview was over. And for the smiles and the half hug the photographers had requested from Luxe and her surly costar when they had left the studio. Gigi had printed the pictures out and framed them when they were released, bringing them to Luxe to keep. She and Luxe had then commenced with drawing a ridiculous mustache and devil horns on Jem's smiling face.
Luxe chuckled to herself, walking out of the bathroom and down the hall to her bedroom. She cast a glance to her dresser, where the picture sat in it's simple black frame, and smiled even wider. She dropped the towel, walking over to her dresser and opening the top drawer to rifle through her underwear, searching for the pair she wanted to wear. Her fingers brushed against something silky and she paused momentarily.
It's been...a really long week...., she said to herself as her fingers closed slowly around the satin cloth. She drew her hand out of the drawer, pulling the object out with it. The black, satin drawstring bag was heavy in her hand. I have some time before Gigi gets here, she rationalized as her other hand came up and opened the bag, pulling out her purple vibrating wand. This will definitely help me relax.
Luxe dropped her towel to the floor, walking herself to her bed and sitting on the edge. Her fingers found the button and pressed it, wand humming to life in her hand. She drew in a deep breath as she brought the tip of it to her left nipple, humming at the feel of it. Her other hand slipped between her thighs, sliding into her folds without preamble, finding her clit and lightly strumming her fore and middle finger over it. She bit her lower lip at the sparks of pleasure she felt. But she needed a bit more to stoke the embers of desire.
She imagined a faceless man, abs like a Greek god, buns of steel, gloriously naked before her. It was his hands she imagined touching her, toying with her, making her wet between her thighs. Luxe leaned back onto the bed, sighing when her back hit her mattress. Her legs twitched under her ministrations. She moved the vibrator down her body, over her stomach, and moved her other hand out of the way so that she could feel the vibration where she ached the most. She imagined the faceless man pressing his face between her legs, tongue coming out to tease her clit mercilessly.
Luxe gasped as the muscles in her thighs twitched and she looked down at her vibrator, her imagination seeing instead a head of messy dark blonde hair. She could see his face worshipping her pussy, heard him groan at the taste of her as her juices dripped from her. She watched as his stormy grey eyes looked up at her and she swore she saw him smirk at her. The fingers of Luxe's other hand slipped inside of her, delving deep and curling, her head falling back on the mattress. But it was his fingers she felt, plunging into her, taking her closer to the edge.
"Come for me, Luxe," he commanded, his rough voice nothing more than a guttural growl, and goddamnit she fucking obeyed, crying out loudly.
"Fuck, Jem! Fuck me! God..." she ground out between her clenched teeth before her vision went white and she felt herself leaping into her orgasm.
Luxe pulled the vibrator away from herself, legs shaking, thighs twitching, and her chest heaving. She gasped for air, trying to find a steady rhythm with her breath. Her body still hummed from pleasure as she opened her eyes to stare at the peeling ceiling. "Fuck... that was...," she panted. That was exactly what she needed...but not what she had intended to happen. She'd intended to fantasize about some faceless phantom, pleasuring her. She'd started out doing just that. But... Jesus, she hadn't come that hard in a while. "Goddamn...."
Her phone chimed on her bedside table and Luxe blinked. She switched off her vibrator and sat up shakily, reaching for her phone. She had a text from Gigi. Opening her phone, she read the text.
"On my way! Get ready for some fun!!!!"
Luxe exhaled slowly. Guess I'd better clean up and then get ready.
***
Secret eyes watched greedily, seeing her pleasure herself. Fuck, she was so pretty. So perfect. So... "Mine," a voice growled possessively. The way her hands moved, the way her breasts heaved with her heavy breaths. Fingers twitched, wanting so badly to be the one to touch that body. What was she thinking of? Could she possibly be thinking of...? She should be. Didn't she know how loved she was, how desired she was by the figure sat hunched over the computer screen? She would soon. She would soon....