Isabelle Reid's Train Wreck

Chapter Four

My sanity still hadn't returned as I closed the door behind Blake. Alone in my dressing room, Blake looked even more devilish than before. I was going to get in big trouble with this mistake. Then again, it had been a long time since I slipped. I always did exactly what I was told. It was about time for me to at least have the opportunity to make a mistake to regret.

I watched as he turned to finger the clothing rack before him at the back of the room. "Is this where you chose your wardrobe?" he asked as he flipped through the clothes.

I crossed the room to pick up the bottle of vodka he had left on the vanity counter. I didn't take my eyes off of him. "Sometimes. There is a lot riding on tonight's show. We're debuting new material so it has to be perfect." I opened the bottle, gulping down the burning liquid. "Jesus, that's rough," I said as I winced from the taste. I continued on. "This charming outfit was picked out by my lovely stylist to ensure tonight's success."

Blake turned to me, a sexy grin on his face. His dimples deepened as he stared intently at me. "I think the outfit is a success as least. It certainly works for me."

I laughed. "I've noticed."

He took the bottle of whiskey, staring thoughtfully at me. "You're not what you pretend, are you?"

I frowned. I quickly smiled again, my sexy half smirk. "Oh, I'm that and more."

He smirked. "I'm certainly hoping to find out firsthand."

I liked to think I could handle anything thrown out at me, but Blake, he was like no one I'd ever met. He wasn't fazed at all by the superstar persona I had made for myself. He didn't even seem to notice. I drank more of the vodka. I shouldn't since I would be taking the stage in an hour, but I needed something to calm my nerves.

He continued watching me in amusement. He sat down on the couch, stretching his long legs as he did so. "So this is where a star like you gets ready. I probably won't have such a posh room."

I set the alcohol back on the vanity table. "It's just a place to wait before a show."

"Not backstage with the rest of the band?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes I do. It's usually awkward though. The whole Lars situation."

Blake nodded. "Mind if I ask about that?"

"Yes," I replied sharply. I softened my tone. "People always want to ask me about the Lars situation. I don't like to talk about it."

"Well," Blake said, not hurt by my denial, "I just wanted to know what kind of trouble he's going to be if he finds about this."

I arched an eyebrow. "This?" I laughed, a deep husky chuckle I had long perfected. "We're just talking, Blake."

Blake was once again not put off by my response. "Come here," he replied. His blue eyes held my intense gaze. I couldn't look away though I remained motionless. "Come here," he said again, his voice deeper and filled with longing.

I took a deep breath and slowly walked to stand before him. Despite my apprehensions and misgivings, I leaned forward, resting my hands on the couch behind his head. His hands quickly grasped my waist tightly. "Is this what you wanted?" I whispered.

He pulled at my waist. "Almost." I moved closer to him, though I held back from climbing onto his lap.

I chuckled, before whispering in his ear, "I wonder exactly how it is you want me?"

Blake's hand moved to caress my behind. He pulled me forward and I fell against him, straddling him on the couch. "This will do for a start," he murmured. His hands pulled me closer and closer till our lips were inches apart. "What exactly do you want from me?" he asked me.