Stricken Desire Read Free Page B

show. A towel
doesn’t matter. Does it?
    “Hey D, you get em man?” I hear somebody say.
I think its Price.
    “Yeah I’m getting them. The lady we’re living
with is in here. Give me sex. I mean sec.” He laughs eyeing me. “I
need those.” He points to the box of condoms.
    I blush fifty shades of red and turn to the
side for him to retrieve them.
    “Thanks.” He says exiting the bath with a
giant handful of the Trojans. “I got em. Let’s hit it.” He says to
someone other than me.
    I get ready to step out of the bath towel
fully intact and he comes back and pops his head in.
    “You coming tonight Bella?” he asks.
    I shake my head yes “But I’m Emily.”
    “I know that. But you are beautiful.” He runs
his eyes up and down me again, licks his lips and ducts out again.
Thank the lord. My hearts beating fifty miles an hour. Close
quarters with rockers is going to be harder than I thought.
     

Chapter
Three
     
    Pulling up outside Club 9 with Stacy and our
bodyguard chauffer James, who looks like a beefier vision of Taylor
Lautner. The outside of the club is packed with groupies, the same
sleazy sluts that were at the concert. Yuck. But I know I have to
get used to seeing this. It isn’t going to be the first or last
time I am stuck viewing boobs and pussies from a distance. As long
as they don’t touch me I’m going to be okay. Or I hope.
    Stacy grabs my hand and escorts me from the
black tinted window Mercedes. I love riding in style. But I love
driving my truck even more. I have a black 80’s version suburban I
ride around in back home in Indiana. Well it’s my dad’s now that I
don’t live at home but I still love it and I refuse to let him sell
it. So it sits in our barn collecting dust.
    Pushing through the mass of people. James
leads the way and gently nudges anyone in our path. I might have to
buy him a fruit basket one of these days.
    “You look very nice.” Stacy compliments once
we get inside.
    I’m glad he finally approves of my outfit. I
went a little out of my comfort zone and threw on a pair of faded
jeans that hug rather tightly against my big butt and a fitted pink
t-shirt which now gives a full view of my arm tattoo. Yes, nobody
would have guessed little short straight-laced Em would have a
tattoo. But I do, I have four actually. My right arm is half
sleeved down to my elbow with flowers and a few other intricate
details. All done in full color. I sat over thirty hours for that
one. I have a small cupcake on the top of my left foot, a tramp
stamp on my lower back that I got when I was eighteen. And a small
butterfly on my left hipbone that burned so bad when I got it done
that I’ll never ever get another tattoo on my stomach area
again.
    The club is to capacity. It’s huge,
wall-to-wall with people. The floor is like black lacquer and the
ceiling is industrial full of colorful lights. The bar wraps around
the entire east wall and it’s black too. Music is loud and a mix of
modern jams. I spot Johnathan instantly only because that’s where
most of the women are flocking to. I can’t blame them. He’s easily
six five, built like a brick shit house, tattoos sleeve his arms
and I’m sure other places too. His hair is dark brown spiked into a
short faux hawk. Big lips and has green eyes similar to mine.
Dreamy as all get out. And what do you know we have our own little
group of sexy women headed our way. Yep, Stacy’s hot too.
    “Go get some tail.” I lean over and utter
into his ear, smacking him hard on the ass.
    “I’m not leaving you in here. I learned my
lesson.”
    “Screw that. I told you Stacy I’m going to
have to learn to get down with the party scene. I’ve never done
much of it before. But I’ll do it. Now do what you do best and fuck
some hot chicks.” I smile.
    “You’re the best.” He leans down and kisses
me cheek and heads off toward the hoard of women headed straight
for us. Cutting them off once he reaches them and wraps his arms
around there