Home > When Fangirls Lie(15)

When Fangirls Lie(15)
Author: Marian Tee

His lips twitched when he remembered the first words she said. “Murderous mackerel, Sapphire?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I still think of fish when I’m overly emotional or whatever.”

Alan tried not to look too guilty at her words. He had indirectly been one of the reasons why Saffi had been so “emotional” in those days. Even at a young age, Saffi had been already lovely, too, inside and out. Everything about her was the opposite of what rich kids were supposed to be. She had never held a grudge against any of them, not even after what happened during their graduation ball, with Saffi as the guest of honor---Alan shuddered. It still qualified as the most horrible night of his life.

A loud pounding on the door made them jump in surprise.

“What the---” Donovan exclaimed.

“Are you f**king in there, H?”

Saffi squeaked in shock.

Knowing he only had seconds to spare, Alan hissed, “Remember your promise!”

“I promise. And you promise, too.”

Alan nodded. “I keep my word, Sapphire.”

Her eyes widened at the name he used. “Alan! Don’t call me---” She ended up shrieking instead when the door smashed open. Rather, Staffan had kicked it open. He came in, looking beautiful and furious in a three-piece suit. How was it possible for a human being to be so swooningly exquisite? He really was Mr. Rockstar Chic.

Staffan’s eyes found hers, the emotions swirling in it making her swallow.

Well, make that Mr. Angry Rockstar Chic.

“I can explain,” she said in a small voice.

“Really?” he drawled out. It was all Staffan could manage since every part of him was itching to smash Carson’s face. And what the f**k was Donovan Bradley doing here? What the f**k had he walked into – a goddamn ménage a trois?

“We were just talking. Alan---”

He seethed at hearing Saffi mention another man’s name.

“---and I are friends from way back.”

“Is that so?” he asked silkily. “What kind of friends?”

Her eyes widened. “No, no, not like that! Oh my God, no!”

Staffan raised a brow. “And I should believe you because?”

Alan said nervously, “We did not do anything---”

“Get the f**k out, you two.” He didn’t spare the boys a glance. Fucking boys. He should have an all-girl dance backup instead next time.

Alan and Donovan couldn’t get out fast enough. Sorry, Alan mouthed to her.

It’s okay, she mouthed back.

When she looked back at Staffan, his eyes had become even chillier.

The green-eyed monster inside him had never been fiercer, and all Staffan wanted was to pull Saffi to him and mark her body in every way he could. He wanted to f**k her until she lost consciousness, wanted to see the dreamy smile back on her face – the smile that should only be for him.

“We didn’t really do anything,” she said urgently.

“Why the f**k should I believe you when you didn’t tell me where you’re going, you locked yourself inside this f**king room with two men---”

“Because I can prove it,” she blurted out.

He stilled.

This should be interesting.

He lifted a brow.

She gulped. When they said that starting anything with a lie could only continue with more lies --- it was true, and it was happening now.

“I’m a very, very, in demand groupie.”

Staffan did his best not to roll his eyes.

“I do all sorts of stuff. Like, umm, mouth jobs – I mean blow jobs.” She lifted her chin just so he wouldn’t know how she was completely winging everything. “And hand jobs, foot jobs, even umm, anal jobs.”

Two parts of Staffan’s body twitched: his lips…and his cock.

“But one thing I didn’t do with, umm, any of the Celsius guys---”

Staffan’s eyes narrowed.

She inhaled. “I’ve never done it with them. Like done…it…that.” Her soft dark eyes sought his, her voice seductive without meaning to as she said, “I’m still a virgin because I wanted you to be my first.”

The words melted his rage in an instant, turning it into liquid heat, his body on fire.

In one long stride, Staffan had her in his arms, and she was gasping against his lips as he took hers for a kiss that claimed not just her body, not just her heart but her very soul.

With Staffan so near, Saffi was immediately on fire…and in love. Her eyes closed. The truth Saffi had tried to blind herself to was now out in the open, and it was the scariest thing that ever happened in her life.

She had already been halfway to being in love with Staffan Aehrenthal with a phone call, and now that she had spent almost an entire night with him, had been pleasured by him twice---

She didn’t care what other people would say.

Her brain was smarter than the rest, and so was her heart.

And both told her she had found her soul mate, the one man she could only fall in love with.

She wrapped her arms around him more tightly, welcoming the darkness and passion in his kiss, her body instinctively molding to his, pressing her sex against his as hard as she could. They groaned as his c**k swelled, trying to push into her even though their clothes were a barrier between their bodies.

His hand sank into her hair, pulling her head back so his lips could move down her body. He sucked at her neck, hard, this time laying a blood red claim on her beautiful skin. That should teach any f**king ass**le who wanted to try taking what was his.

“Later,” he whispered against her skin.

She tried to think. “Later…what?”

“Prove to me that you did all those stuff and you’re not just an innocent fangirl who’s bitten more than she could chew.”

She froze.

Hiding a smile, he slowly pulled away. “You aren’t, are you?”

Saffi tried not to look as guilty as she felt. “NO.”

“Good.”

That one word caused her confidence to take a nosedive. She let Staffan turn her around, pulling her against his side as he led her out of the room and past a relieved Bob and the entire crew. Who were all smirking. Again.

She wanted to die.

Desperate dogfish.

How the heck was she going to prove she was sexually experienced when Staffan was her first in everything?

Staffan pulled her closer. He was tempted to kiss her hair but managed to keep himself from doing so. That would make people have other ideas about them, and those weren’t ideas he was comfortable welcoming – maybe never.

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