Page 4 of Rockstar Valentine

It’s quiet, but I hear it. I pause.

“You don’t even know my name.”

Why would I want to know her name? Jesus. Fine, I’ll play. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Mallory. I’m a preschool teacher.”

“Hi, Mallory. I’m Griffin. I’m a musician.”

She blushes. “You think I’m stupid.”

Something about this just got awkward. “No. You’re not stupid.”

I’ve never met a woman backstage who didn’t want to fuck. This is...strange.

And intriguing.

“What do you want, Mallory?” I ask, my voice low.

She bites her lip, and I feel my cock twitch in response. “I want to know you,” she finally says.

I can’t contain my surprise. “You want to know me? Why? I’m not exactly the kind of guy you bring home to meet your parents.”

She laughs, and it’s a beautiful, musical sound. “Maybe not. But I want to know the real you.”

I grind my hard cock into her. “Baby, I’m the guy you want to fuck backstage. You don’t want to know me.”

She unwraps her legs from my waist. “You mean that I’m the girl you want to fuck backstage, and you don’t want to knowme.”

She’s right. I step back and let her slide to the floor. “Yeah. That’s what I mean.”

“There’s a lot to choose from out there. Enjoy yourself.”

But I don’t let her go. I don’t think I can.

“You knew every word to every song out there, Mallory. I eye-fucked you for a long time and you were into it. Why don’t you want me now?”

She blinks, her expression unreadable. “I’m going to kick myself later, but I’m not looking for a one-night stand. I’m waiting for something else.”

What the hell else is there? Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll has been my life. Minus the drugs now. Which means more sex and music. And sex.

“Something real,”Malloryadds.

Fuck. There isn’t anything real. How does she not know that? Love is fake. People are fake.

“My dick will feel pretty real to you when you’re trying to breathe with it down your little throat.”

Dead-eye stare from the preschool teacher. “Good deflection. Hard pass all the same.”

Who the fuck is this girl?

Chapter Three

Mallory

This is, of course, the strangest night of my entire life. I am locked inside a dressing room with the man of all my fantasies and I turned him down for sex?

He’s not just my fantasy. He’s every woman’s fantasy. And just kissing him made me almost come. What iswrongwith me?

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