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Chapter Two

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🎤Will🎤

The feisty brunette before me fell to her knees and slowly ran the palm of her hand against my denim covered crotch, sexily so. It caught me off guard and as I began tensing every muscle in my body, she squeezed down on each thigh, igniting a fire from within.

"Relax, baby. I'll make you feel good," ensured the sweet voice, pushing past delectable, red lips.

The little temptress followed her statement up with a seductive flick of her hair and even had the audacity to shoot me an innocent smile. The action forced me to slyly rearrange the shocking bulge taking place in my pants and as I focused my attention on her luscious body, I decided against perusing things.

"Look, Natalie."

"It's Natasha," she corrected, lowering my fly.

Nice one, O'Connor!

"Right, Natasha. I appreciate- oh shit!" She aggressively tugged on my jeans and had the material falling to the floor in seconds. "I'm gonna need you to stop that now, darling," I bargained, close to losing my mind.

Matt Winters had a helluva lot to answer for. Sending an eager fan up to my hotel room was hardly the answer to my problems and best friend or not, he was out of line for thinking it would work. A measly night of passion spent with Natasha what's-her-face was not what I needed right now.

"Why stop when I can show you a good time," she argued, attempting access into my boxers.

I admit, her curvy figure and perky breasts were a damn temptation and leaving her body untouched felt like a crime if nothing else - but my heart just wasn't in it. Once upon a time, sex had been my go-to distraction. It often helped me destress after a long day on the road and as the true saying went, what happened on tour stayed on tour. But we weren't on tour right now and I had since killed a man, so forgive me for having a non-existent libido and the enthusiasm of a limp dick.

"Come here," I sighed, attentively.

Natasha rose to her slender legs and tried going in for a smooch, though did so to her utmost failure.

"What's wrong? Am I not sexy enough for you?" she asked, genuinely distraught.

Fucking groupies!

"Of course you are. There's just been a misunderstanding, that all," I explained, holding her at arm's length.

I knew her type. Screw a celebrity and run to the nearest newspaper to sell the story. Too late, honey. Been there, done that. Though I certainly wasn't going to deny her a little confidence boost. "I just respect you too much, sugar."

"You do?" she beamed, outrageously happy.

"Absolutely. Look at you. Legs so smooth I could lick chocolate off of them and don't even get me started on that tight arse of yours."

She giggled as I gave her perfect peaches a little squeeze.

"But I travel a lot and I won't be able to offer you the things you deserve. You need a man by your side, not a part-time boyfriend," I finalised, spouting some serious bullshit.

"Oh, Will. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," she gushed, throwing her perfectly made-up face into my neck. "You're not as horrible as they say you are."

Having a good reputation is overrated anyway!

"I know, babe."

She smelled like cheap perfume and the scent instantly extinguished my boner.

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