His head twisted over his shoulder, his smile blindingly beautiful but now it didn’t leave her warm. It made her cold instead, and she limped back from the sight of it, clutching her side as her entire body ached in pain at what he was doing.
“Care to join us, H?”
She shook her head wildly. “Stop it, Staffan---” To her surprise, he did stop, but when he turned around, Staffan slowly brought his wet fingers to his mouth and sucked them dry.
Saffi moved another step back, her side hitting the door as she stumbled and twisted halfway to avoid looking at Staffan. She cried out, that split-second contact between the door and her ribs sending a wave of shattering pain to her body. Even so, it was nothing compared to the hurt that Staffan was inflicting on her – was still inflicting with every second he allowed the other girl to stay in the room with them.
“What’s wrong, H? This should be normal procedure for you.”
“No. It’s not. So stop it. Leave her.” She covered her face with her hands, not wanting to see anything. But Staffan was suddenly there, forcibly pulling her hands down. Eyes open again, she couldn’t help seeing him half naked---and seeing the other girl completely bare.
“Pretending to be shy, baby?” he jeered, his skin crawling at utter loathing with how great an actress she was. How could he believe her hurt over what she had seen when she could do the same to him with Carson?
“Staffan, I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby, and I love her, too. We’re going to love each other so f**king hard tonight it will be a night you’ll never forget.” And then he was walking back to the other girl, leading her to the couch and pulling her down with him. She fell onto his lap with a giggle.
Saffi covered her mouth as a silent scream of agony escaped her, and her body started to shake in bewildered pain and jealousy as Staffan, his gaze never leaving hers, started to play with the other woman’s flesh, fingers tracing the lines of her sex before sinking into her.
The other girl’s moan was a knife into Saffi’s heart.
“Stop this. I don’t care why you’re doing this but stop this, please---stop it this moment and I’ll forgive---”
“Forgive?” Staffan repeated coolly.
She froze at the strange note in his voice. It almost sounded like hatred.
“You forgive? You’re forgetting yourself, H. You’re just my groupie --- a woman who’s proud to call herself my slut. There is nothing to---”
She didn’t wait for what else he had to say, knowing that Staffan was right. Outside, she pushed past a frowning Bob and an anxious-looking Alan, her heart so leaden with hurt she couldn’t even cry.
She finally got what she wanted.
She was no longer a fan girl but a bona fide, true blue, 100% genuine groupie.
Chapter Eleven
@saffi_m, Twitter:
@JRaybourne I miss you.
The commotion outside his dressing room was f**king hard to ignore, but Staffan did his best – until he realized it wasn’t Saffi causing it but someone he wanted to beat into a bloody pulp.
“Fuck you, Staffan Aehrenthal, come out and face me like a man!”
It was the goddamn prick. Alan Carson. The man who took his Saffi away.
He managed a smile for the girl he had taken to his dressing room, whose name he had already forgotten and whose touch still left a bitter taste in his mouth. “I’m afraid there’s trouble outside. Would you do me a favor and stay here until I come back?”
She nodded, stretching on the couch in an obvious attempt to seduce him.
Staffan forced himself to keep a steady pace as he walked out of the room, but the moment he saw Alan Carson waiting for him at the hall, surrounded by the other backup dancers, Staffan immediately charged for him.
One punch was enough to send Alan flying.
The other man coughed out blood, and the sight was surprising enough to momentarily get rid of the rage-filled haze that blinded Staffan. He f**king hadn’t hit the other man that hard to have him coughing out blood, dammit.
Even though he was near to exploding with the urge to kill the other man, Staffan clenched his fists in an effort to keep himself still. “There’s nothing we need to f**king fight about, Carson. I’m done with…” Saying her name – even if it was not her real one – was like acid on his tongue but he made himself speak. “I’m done with H. She’s all yours if you want my leftovers.”
Staffan was stunned to see Carson turn almost purple in rage, launching himself towards Staffan with a howl. Easily dodging Carson’s flailing fists – the f**king idiot hit like a girl –he use one quick upper cut to knock the man back to the ground.
“OUT! Everyone f**king leave the two of us alone. Bob, guard the door!” Staffan kept his eyes on the groaning man on the ground. Another dancer –it was Bradley again – had knelt next to Carson, muttering something in an anxious tone.
Something didn’t feel right about the two, but he was just too angry to care. When Bob saw the last man out before leaving the hall himself and closing the door behind him, Staffan looked back at Carson. “What the f**k is your problem?” It was difficult to look at the other man without wanting to beat the shit out of him. All he could see was Saffi kissing Carson, when he had also been in the ground.
Staffan frowned at the memory, and the feeling that nothing was what it seemed became even stronger. A chill came over him, like someone walking – no, crying – over his grave.
“How could you do that?” Alan asked bitterly, unable to keep his voice from shaking as he stared up at the man who Sapphire loved so much she had gambled her pride countless times for the right to be with him.
Donovan shook his head. “Alan, don’t tell him anything---”
Warning bells played in Staffan’s head and his fingers instinctively went up to rub his temples, as if it could ward off the pain he was sure would hit him in a while.
“No, it’s not right that she’d be hurt this way again!” Alan tried to stand up on his own, but it was impossible. The beating he received from his own father, combined with Staffan’s punches, made every inch of his body scream with pain. But he knew that it would be nothing compared to how Sapphire must be feeling right now.
Loathing rose inside him as he met the wary eyes of the hotshot rockstar before him. Alan used to think so highly of Staffan Aehrenthal, but this went beyond the pale. “She’s in love with you,” he spat. “You know that, don’t you?”