Friday, February 15, 2008

That Naughty Green-Eyed Monster...

Ah, what a jealous little woman she is, there on the cover of that book. And a redhead, just like me! Fitting, I suppose, because one of my latest stories is now in that pretty little book, J is for Jealousy.

How does a woman handle a rock-star boyfriend's nutcase fans? Listen in as one who has been there tells her friend just how it's done...

***

"I watched Adam work the crowd in the way only he could, signing autographs and making everyone feel welcome and special. He paid a bit too much attention to that little blonde slut who had been lusting after him in the front row -- she was right there beside him, moving closer and closer as she talked on and on about how wonderful he was. Of course he always had a thing for blondes and I knew that, he didn’t try to hide it and how could he? Never mind that I’m not a blonde. I teased him about it until he shot back and asked me to dye my hair.

Sorry...you’re right. Stick to the story. Good grief, you act like you’re horny or something!

This one couldn’t have been more than twenty, probably younger, with bleached hair and enormous breasts that couldn’t possibly be real. I quirked an eyebrow at Adam, and he grinned back. He had dealt with her kind a million times before.

Adam was looking at her, his full attention on whatever she was saying. He was just being a nice guy like he is, you know. But she was moving closer. Her breasts brushed his chest. Before anybody realized what was coming, she rose on tiptoe and slid her tongue into his mouth.

Oh, yes she did! Can you believe the audacity of that bitch?

What did I want to do, you ask? I wanted to kick her ass! But security was pulling her away and Adam was blushing like mad, and I didn’t want to make a scene among those fans who were already so curious about me as it was. I had to make myself scarce before I gave into temptation and throttled the bitch.

Adam caught up with me halfway to the bus. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t kiss her back. Where are you going?”

“I’m so tired of this shit!” I hollered as I yanked my arm away from him. Oh, hell. I wasn’t mad at him. Not really. I just needed somebody to take my anger out on, and he was convenient.

“I’m yours,” Adam said, as if that solved the entire problem.

“I just wish they knew it,” I said. I admit it -- I was playing the victim card. We had been over and over this whole conversation a million times.

So then Adam said, “Let’s show them.”

That stopped whatever I was going to say next. He had to be kidding, and I was not amused. I asked him what in the world he was thinking, what in the world he was talking about, did he really think that I would buy a suggestion like that as being the real deal?

Adam shut me up with a kiss. A good, deep and rowdy kiss, the kind that made my knees weak. He whispered against my lips. “I’m dead serious. Try me and see.”

I couldn’t believe this. He was actually suggesting it! There must have been fifty people there in the parking lot, watching us.

Waiting.

Adam’s cock was already pressing hard against me through his jeans. I heard someone laugh, then a murmur rose from the crowd as he bent his head and kissed me again, this time with even more passion than before. My resistance began to melt away.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the slut that had kissed him. She glared at me. Yes, she did. That fucking bitch. Just thinking about her now, all this time later? It still pisses me off.

That glare? That did it. He was mine, damn them all, and anyone who didn’t believe that could just watch this!

I slid my hands down his back and he tensed up, then laughed a little into my mouth as his tongue danced across mine. Did he think I would go through with it? Probably not, but the realization dawned on him soon enough. Every part of my body was primed and ready and as with all longtime lovers, he knew it instinctively.

I pinned my eyes on that bleached whore on the edge of the crowd.

“He’s mine,” I said. I was loud enough that everybody could hear. “Wanna see?”

One person laughed, and another yelled encouragement. A few people left but most stayed, jockeying for a better position. Adam laughed as he grabbed my shirt with both hands and lifted it over my head, leaving me no room to change my mind. The cool breeze fluttered over my tight nipples and made me shiver. Or maybe it wasn’t the breeze. Maybe it was the fact that we were being watched?

Let’s see how the tabloids wrote about this one!"

Enjoy the rest of the story and other tales of that naughty green-eyed monster gone awry: Get the book here.

1 comment:

Alana said...

Gwen, did you tell me before you had a thing for Dr. Gregory House? I feel as if it may have come up but am foggy on context, something. :-)

Congratulations on your recent book reviews. Well deserved. Jeremy is sending me a copy of J is for Jealousy, and I look forward to reading the rest of your story.

Jealousy is something I've inflicted upon myself not in the so distant past, rather recent actually. I'm intrigued what I may uncover about myself in these stories. People in general, actually.

Peace,
A