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Not Your Groupie: A Second Chance Rock Star Romance by Owen Andrews (14)

Mia

This was it. This was a moment of truth. There was no more lying to myself about what this was. About what I was doing. I couldn't tell myself this was just a bit of innocent flirting if I was going back to his tour bus. That was crossing a line squarely into groupie territory.

“I don’t know,” I said.

Grant moved in close. His arms wrapped around me and I saw a couple of girls roll their eyes and storm off. Obviously they’d been waiting for an opportunity to swoop in and take Grant from me. An opportunity that wasn’t going to come now.

Eat your heart out bitches.

“Are you sure? It’s just a tour bus. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just spending time with you is enough for me.”

Damn did he know just the right words to get a girl going. Of course I imagine he had lots of practice at getting girls on his bus. Still, I had a feeling he’d never used a line that started with telling a girl how much sex we weren’t going to have once we got to his bus. I had a feeling that line was just for me.

Every part of my body was screaming for me to say yes. Still, I wondered how far I could push him by playing hard to get. I got a thrill at playing hard to get with a man who was widely acknowledge as one of the sexiest men in the world. At least if you polled women in my age group plus or minus five years. I got the distinct feeling that “hard to get” wasn’t a game many women played with the great sexy Grant Thompson.

"What if you’re just trying to get me on that bus so you can give me the same sort of tour you give every other girl? How am I going to get away from my pop star encounter with my honor intact?”

Grant sighed. He looked down at me and his eyes were positively hypnotizing. I could drown in those eyes.

“I promise you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to Mia. I’m telling the truth when I say that all I want is to spend more time with you. I need to spend more time with you even if we’re playing Go Fish.”

Damn it. How could he do this to me? How could he make me feel so giddy, so turned on, just by being near me? This was like the thrill of a new crush. Add in the fact that he was a huge star, for certain definitions of “huge star” a decade ago, and it just made the feeling that much more intense. I was starting to care for the man even if I still didn’t care for their music.

My body was a mass of contradictions. I was shaking as though I had a chill. I was sweating as though I was running a fever. I was weak in the knees, and yet all I want to do was lean forward and use him for support. I felt so confident, so sexy, knowing Grant Thompson wanted me. I wasn’t a fan, but a girl could appreciate beating out thousands of other girls in a competition I didn’t even know I was entering when I met him at that diner.

Then again I never really thought of it as a competition. Maybe that’s why he was talking to me instead of any of a dozen girls milling around staring at him so intensely that I almost thought he needed a cigarette when they were finished looking at him.

Grant moved a hand up and ran it along my shoulder causing me to shiver. "One night to prove myself is all I ask."

His hand ran down my shoulder until he was cupping my hand.

I looked up at him and arched an eyebrow. I came to a decision. I wanted to spend more time with him. Grant obviously wanted to spend more time with me. Maybe I was more under his spell than I would’ve liked to admit, but I decided I would go with him. Maybe I was being stupid, maybe I was letting a player take advantage of me, but I didn’t think so. If anything I was more worried about losing control than I was worried about Grant trying to press his advantage once we were on his home territory.

Of course he didn’t have to know how completely he’d won.

"So does that line usually work on your fans?"

He blinked and then he laughed. "Usually it does. I take it it's not working now?"

I wagged a finger at him. "You're being naughty."

That wasn't a yes and it wasn't a no. I wanted to keep him guessing. I wanted to keep making this a game because he seemed to be enjoying the chase and it was so fucking sexy pretending I was still playing hard to get even if I knew he'd won and I was giving in.

Grant held up his hands as though he was admitting defeat, though he had a grin on his face. "Okay, so you've got me. That used to work most of the time, but the reason I’m still here asking you this is because it’s so nice to meet a girl who isn't so star struck that she gives in right away."

"Well the night's not over yet," I said. “Plenty of time to dazzle me.”

"Oh really? So does that mean I could still interest you in a tour of my bus?"

"That could be fun," I said. He grinned and I decided to turn the screws just a little. "Besides, it's not like I'm going anywhere until my friend gets back with your buddy."

His smile faltered for a moment but he recovered quickly. He laughed, a surprisingly genuine laugh as he wrapped his arm around mine and led me out of the room.

"Don’t worry. She’s with Blake so you won’t have too long to wait if you don’t want to. Of course in the meantime I just so happen to have a full bar on my bus."

I grinned. "Why Mr. Thompson. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to get a girl drunk to have your way with her!"

“So what if I am?”

My head was positively swimming as we left and I wondered what I was getting myself into.

Grant's tour bus was pretty damn nice. And why wouldn't it be? He was probably incredibly rich. Rich enough that he had a bus all to himself. There were several others that stretched on behind his, presumably for the rest of the band. One of the guys was walking towards his bus with a pretty girl who looked to be about the same age which was a good ten years older than me. I didn’t think she was a groupie though since she’d been in the meeting room before the crowds arrived. The way she held herself had wife or significant other written all over it.

An older looking dark-skinned gentleman who was nevertheless built like a brick house with beefy arms and broad shoulders sat in a comically undersized folding chair with an ereader glowing and illuminating his face. He looked up and smiled at Grant, nodded to me, then went back to his book.

The engine was running as he opened the door and gestured for me to follow him up. I took his hand and felt an electric charge as our bodies made contact, even if it was just the short contact of a handhold as he pulled me up.

The thing was damn impressive. Like I'm talking it looked nicer than my own living room at the apartment I shared with Kayla. He had a huge flat-panel TV on one wall and the promised fully stocked bar adjacent to the TV. It was all very nice, if very narrow. I suppose that was the one limitation of being on a bus.

"So you have this whole thing all to yourself?" I asked.

"Most of the time."

Grant frowned for a moment, forgetting himself, then shook his head and a grin was back on his face. "Occasionally the driver will come back and shoot the shit with me if it's been a long drive. Sometimes one of the other guys from the band will ride with me if I'm in the mood for a game or something, but the ones I want to hang out with are all settled down so it’s hard for me to tear them away from their women. Sometimes Jake comes in and I school him in Mario Kart."

“Jake?”

“My security guy. You just saw him. The one sitting in that chair securing his book.”

“Oh…”

Nice work if you could get it, I guess.

“The company tonight is much better than hanging out with any of the guys.”

Grant looked me up and down. His eyes ran over my body like a lover's caress and it sent a thrill running through me just as intensely as that lover's caress would on any other occasion. I felt goose bumps rise all over my body. I felt my breathing pick up, and my nipples were straining out. There was no doubt in my mind that he could see them against the thin material of my top even through my bra. I was that turned on!

And sure enough he was staring. But just for a moment, and then his eyes were back on my own and he had a smile on his face. I'm sure part of that smile was for the show I was giving him, but I didn't give a fuck. Let him stare. He could eye fuck me all night long and the only thing I'd ask for was a cigarette when he was done because his gaze was that fucking intense.

I didn’t know what was coming over me, but I kind of liked it. Still, I couldn’t help but ask the question that was on the tip of my tongue.

“So what about all the girls you meet at these concerts?”

Grant laughed and shook his head. “None of that on this tour.”

I cocked an eyebrow and put my hands on my hips. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Nope, but it’s the truth.”

“So what about back when you were touring the first time around?”

“Damn. When I said I wanted to be around you no matter what I wasn’t expecting an interrogation,” he muttered.

I looked down, a blush coming to my face. He hadn’t been anything but nice and still I felt like I was trying to push him away. That wasn’t fair to him, damn it.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t…”

Grant held a hand up. “No, you’re perfectly justified. It’s a fair question. Back then I tore it up wherever we went. I entertained on a bus very like this one in every city we stopped at, but I’ve left that life behind.”

He locked eyes with me and I was taken aback at the sudden burning intensity there as he looked me up and down. That was the same sort of look he’d given me back in the diner that dispelled any thoughts that he might be gay. That was the look of a man staring at a woman he desperately wanted. It didn’t hurt that I desperately wanted him too.

“Of course there’s been one exception so far on this tour,” he said, his voice sounding suddenly gravelly as though he was having trouble getting that out.

I couldn’t maintain that gaze so I glanced around the living area thinking about how much fun it would be to continue being the one exception on this tour, though something told me this living area wasn't where he would have entertained his lady guests. No, the only place that looked convenient for that sort of thing in this area was a surprisingly comfortable looking couch, but it was small enough that it would be difficult for two people to really have a good time.

I tried to sound as nonchalant, as noncommittal as possible as I said at my next words. I suddenly felt like I was walking in a minefield after the way he’d reacted to my “interrogation.” Plus I was still enjoying playing hard to get with the rock star who was used to women falling onto his cock when he flashed that winning smile that had graced so many posters.

"So where would you take the second kind of company? Hypothetically speaking, of course."

I wanted to make sure to get in that last bit. Hard to get and all that, even though my body was screaming at me to just give in and let this happen. My lizard brain was screaming at me to give into the delicious warmth that was building between my legs and spreading through my body. My rational brain, though, was still calling the shots. Barely. And that part of me was fucking turned on by stringing along a hot guy who was used to getting his way.

Not that the rational part of my brain was going to be in control much longer. I was so close to losing out to the more visceral parts of my mind that were begging to be taken by this delicious man. I stomped down on those voices, but even mentally stomping down on them didn't do much. They were still there, they were still insistent, and the animal part of my brain, the part of my body that was motivated by pure lust, was definitely starting to win the battle the rational part of my brain had been putting up all night long. Desire was winning out over the part of me that was offended that I would be throwing myself at the lead singer of Twenty Promises.

Grant seemed to get the hint. He walked over to me, put an arm around me and led me over to the small bar.

"Well of course we wouldn't start any hypothetical festivities by going to the back of the bus.”

I arched an eyebrow and allowed him to guide me over to the bar where he poured a couple of drinks. Pure whiskey. I looked at him and blinked. I usually wasn't a whiskey kind of girl, but I figured I could make an exception in this case. Particularly if that was part of the groupie experience that I suddenly found myself wanting to experience even though that should’ve been the last thing I wanted.

I giggled and smacked his chest. His deliciously sculpted chest. His rock hard chest. No, I needed to avoid thinking about that. That was too distracting. That was pulling me too close to breaking the game of the girl who didn’t give a fuck about Grant’s band and was making him work for it.

"So this is your big move? You get girls drunk? What, do you put something in their drink too you creeper?"

The words might’ve been a bit harsh if not for the playful tone I attached to it. I had a feeling that for most girls the fact that Grant existed and was standing right in front of them in all his glory would be more than enough to get their panties to drop. No booze required.

Grant kicked back his drink in one swallow and I blinked, both impressed and surprised. Though I'm not sure why I was surprised. It seemed that partying was at least a small part of his job description from what I saw at that after party. I had a feeling he could put away substances in a way that I couldn't possibly imagine.

He smiled after he got his drink down. "I'm Grant Thompson," he said in a tone that was both a statement of fact and a slight challenge as he proceeded to echo what I’d just been thinking. "Do you really think I need to get girls drunk or slip them something get their panties to drop once I've got them on my tour bus?"

There was something loaded about the way he phrased that. Once he got girls on his tour bus. The deal was done once he got girls on his tour bus. I was a girl, I was on his tour bus right now, though I wasn’t exactly a fan which put a wrinkle in the whole thing.

The line between playful resistance and conquest was thin, and it was constantly moving. Which side of the line was I on? I knew which side my brain told me I should be on and I knew which side my body was telling me I was on right now.

"So the booze is just to break the ice?" I asked.

Grant shrugged. "Not really. It just helps to calm a girl's nerves. She's living the pop star fantasy. It happened to me all the time, but it was usually the first time for them."

Grant looked me up and down again and a shiver ran down my spine. Something had changed about Grant. It was as though here on this bus, here in his territory, he was suddenly confident in himself in a way he hadn’t been throughout the rest of the evening when he was slightly off balance around me.

I thought about how it must have felt ten years ago for girls who were fans, and my imagination was fueled in no small part by how Kayla used to go on. The first time for them. It would be the first time getting the pop star experience for me. And I wanted nothing more than to be one of his conquests for the night. I could definitely sympathize with how those girls felt as they crossed the line from good girl to groupie.

I realized it was a line I was about to cross myself despite all the worries still running through my head. The worry that I was selling out by giving into the charms of a guy in Twenty Promises. More than anything the worry that I would wind up being just another notch on his traveling bedpost even though my body was screaming to let him carve that notch.

"So you're saying the only pickup line you've ever needed is to be Grant Thompson?" I asked.

As I asked I was painfully aware of how close he was. I could smell his breath with just a hint of whiskey on it. I grimaced. Okay, so maybe there was more than a hint of whiskey which usually wasn't my thing but I'd make an exception in this case. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body. Down below I could sense his cock straining out for me, even though I couldn't exactly feel it against me.

I definitely wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of glancing down to check out his cock, but I could still sense it there. It was as though there was a sixth sense telling me that this hottie's cock was straining out for my body, and my body was screaming for me to drop the games and fucking take it already.

He shrugged. "Usually that's all it takes."

On any other man that would be arrogance. On any other man that would be a boast. Only with him it was nothing of the sort. He could have his pick of just about any woman he wanted. Myself included. I needed this so bad. My body was aching for him. I was completely overcome by the moment and completely gone. I didn’t care if I was throwing myself at him. No, I desperately wanted him to lean forward and take me, to shatter all of my boundaries and barriers.

Only he didn't. Maybe my game was working a little too well. So I decided to give things a push.

"So where did the date usually go from here?" I breathed out.

Grant chuckled. I was being fucking transparent, but I didn't give a fuck. I had to have him even if I was giving up on playing hard to get and was throwing myself at him instead. He pulled back from me, turning towards the bar where he placed his empty drink on the wood paneling. He turned back to me and cocked an eyebrow.

"Do you really want to see?"

That was a loaded question. My breathing was picking up. My nipples were rock hard. I was so fucking wet between my legs. I finally risked a glance down, not caring if he saw me glancing at his cock, and I was rewarded with the sight of his rock hard dick, that monster I'd felt against my ass earlier, straining out towards my body just as I'd imagined it would. Straining out against those impossibly tight pants he wore onstage to get a rise out of the ladies.

Only now I was the lady getting a rise out of him, and I wanted so much more. I paused to think for a moment though. I was really buzzed which might be influencing my decision making, but at the same time I wanted this. Needed it. So I was going to go for it. Fuck the consequences!

"Sure," I said. "It would be interesting to see where the magic happened. Back in the day."

He grinned and gestured with one of those sculpted arms. "Then by all means follow me."

And so I followed. I followed temptation made flesh. It was time to see where the magic happened, and maybe make a little magic of my own.

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