Rebel Rockstar (6 page)

“
S
hit
,” I mutter quietly to myself, pacing up and down my tiny, temporary bedroom. I may have one of the biggest rooms on the ship, but that doesn’t stop it from feeling really constrictive at times. And this is one of the worst ones of all.

I hate having no control over a situation, and right now I really don’t have any. Tonya has screwed things up, and now the ball is firmly in Jem’s court. I’ll just have to wait until she’s ready to speak to me, but patience has never been one of my strong suits. I’ve messed things up badly with her, and I’m terrified that there’s no going back from it. I’m scared that I’ll be waiting forever.

“I like to keep track of which skanks my ex-boyfriend is sleeping with now. It’s fun to keep tabs on him.”

Tonya’s evil words—plus her insinuation that we had some sort of crazy, sex-based relationship—keep rolling over and over in my mind. How could she do that to me? What the hell does she think she’s going to achieve? Is she crazy enough to think I’ll go back to her if things don’t work out with Jem?

Knock, knock.

Someone knocks so lightly on my door that had I not been awake, I wouldn’t have heard it. In fact, I’m not convinced that it wasn’t just a product of my imagination. I’m so desperate to see Jem that I might have just invented the sound in my mind…

Knock, knock.

Nope, there it goes again. Someone is here. I just hope it’s the right someone.

“Who’s there?” I call out quietly, crossing my fingers behind my back. “What do you want?”

“It’s Jem.” The almost scared-sounding reply comes through the door. “Can I come in? Can we talk?”

Oh, thank God. She’s here. All hope isn’t completely lost.

“Of course.” I swing the door open, wondering if she actually thought I was going to refuse her entry. I’m the one desperate to speak to her, after all! But as she steps into my room, it’s clear from the incredibly nervous and unsure expression she’s wearing that she’s struggling with what I want just as much as I am with what she wants. Guilt courses through my veins at the thought that this is all my fault.

“I’m sorry for running off like that,” she eventually begins, twiddling her fingers anxiously. “It was just a bit of a shock.” I step forward, grabbing her hands in mine, praying that she can see the guilt I’m feeling plastered across my expression. I need her to understand the depths of it, to see how bad I feel. “I just…”

“No, no.” I stop her from speaking. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should never have been so stupid. You were always going to find out, which I’m pretty sure Tonya was banking on. I should never have let it get so far…”

“It doesn’t matter now,” she announces, preventing my rant from going on any further. “I was taken by surprise, but to be honest I kind of knew. I had already heard rumors in the past. I guess having it confirmed threw me.”

“Right…” Oh, God, that makes me feel about a million times worse. She already knew and she didn’t think to ever ask me? What sort of pig am I? “So, did you want to talk?”

But instead of saying another word, she crashes her lips against mine, sending excited fireworks exploding all over my body all over again. I instantly pull her closer to me, wanting to feel that tiny, familiar frame pushed up against my body. When she’s here, in my arms, showing me affection, everything feels right with the world. It’s as if nothing else matters, and that’s a feeling that I never want to let go of. I can forget all of my bad feelings, all the crappy things I’ve done, and I can just be Nate. The Nate that Jem needs me to be.

The kiss deepens in a way that it has only once before, and that led to our breakup, so I can’t help but freak out just a little. I pull back to stare at her face, but the look she’s giving me isn’t one that’s about to leave. Her look tells me that she wants to stay…and finally wants to take things a whole lot further.

Somehow, despite all that’s happened tonight, she seems willing to trust me more than ever before!

“Are you—” I start to ask, but she doesn’t give me the opportunity to finish. She yanks me closer and we kiss once more.

As soon as an involuntary moan escapes her lips, I have all the motivation I need to continue. I move my hand off the small of her back, where I’ve been holding her closer to me, and lightly trail it up her leg. I’m still just testing the waters, seeing where her head is, but instead of throwing me off—like I half expect her to—she groans and tosses her head back in pleasure.

This is really going to happen! She really wants this.

I can’t believe my luck. This is Jem, the girl of my dreams, giving me another shot even though I don’t deserve it. She’s allowing me to go where no one has ever gone before. I don’t know why this is happening, but I’m sure as hell not going to screw things up.

I plant kisses down her neck, and she tightens her grip on my shoulders. By the time I find the outline of her panties with my fingers, she’s practically drawing blood she’s digging her nails in so tightly. As I teasingly tug the lacy material aside, I hear her gasp in excitement, and when I slowly slide a finger in—getting a good feel of her hot, wet desire for me—she actually cries out in joy.

“Oh, Nate,” she calls, and my cock strains almost painfully against my pants. I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long—thought about it happening, fantasized about it while I touched myself—but to actually have her here, writhing under my touch, feels better than I ever could have imagined.

I work her body with the expert touch I’ve developed over the years. The quick, childish fumble I had with Tonya is going to be nothing compared to my first time with Jem. I’m utterly determined to be unforgettable, to make this the best night of her whole damn life. She deserves that more than anyone I know.

“Oh, fuck,” she spits, using profanity in a way I’ve never heard come out of her mouth. This proves to me that she’s feeling things she never has before—that I’m making her feel so good that she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

It’s time to take things up a notch.

By this point, I’m practically holding her upright, so I walk her backwards and gently lay her back on the bed. Her eyes flicker open, and she gives me a hooded, desire-filled look. I’m going to undress her slowly and finally get a look at the body that I’ve spent half my life lusting over.

I tug off her skirt and panties, and I pull her top slowly over her head. As I unhook her bra, she fumbles with my zipper, as needy to see me as I am her. She’s so sweet, so innocent, so virginal. I can see that she’s still a little nervous, so I take over and undress myself.

The last time she saw me even semi-naked, I still had a little baby fat. Now I’m sculpted, with the beginnings of a six-pack showing through. I can tell that this impresses her by the way her eyes widen in surprise.

“Wow,” she breathes, smiling, running her eyes all over me.

“Wow yourself,” I reply earnestly. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Jem.” She really is. No one else I’ve ever been with before could even begin to compare to this girl. In my eyes, she’s the epitome of perfection.

With that, I hover over her, finding her nipples with my lips. They’re so stunning that I absolutely need to get a feel of them while they’re available to me. I lick and tug with my teeth. She arches her back and gasps loudly as I do it, showing me just how much she’s enjoying giving herself to me.

After a while, I lean back to look into her eyes. “Are you sure?” I whisper as I tease her entrance. I’m silently pleading that she’ll say yes, but I’ll understand if she doesn’t. I’d much rather keep her in my life than have sex with her. It damn near killed me when I last lost her, and I’m definitely not ready to go through that again.

“I’m sure.” She nods happily, running her hands all over my body. I could lie here forever, just having her touch me in this way, but I know my cock would never forgive me if I didn’t experience the ever-gorgeous Jem.

I inch my way inside of her. I’m aware that she’s still a virgin—I would have heard about it in the media otherwise—and I don’t want this to be painful for her. She winces a little, which causes me to panic, but as soon as we get a steady rhythm going, she gets right back into enjoying herself.

“You feel amazing, Nate,” she whispers into my ear, making me feel phenomenal. Nothing I’ve ever experienced has made me feel as good as Jem does, and in all honesty I’m finding it really difficult to control myself around her. It’s taking all that I have to focus on giving her the pleasure that she deserves before I succumb to my own.

It isn’t long before I can feel her walls starting to contract around me. She rocks, and buckles, and shudders with pleasure, and the pool of bliss in my stomach courses right through my body.

“Oh fuck, Jem,” I cry out as the orgasm crashes through me. “I love you,” I yell, losing control of myself. I feel like I’m in a drunken, lusty haze even though I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol. I didn’t mean to say those words, not this soon, but they just seemed to spill out of me. Luckily, as we lie next to each other in my bed, breathless and panting, she turns to face me and says the words I’m so desperate to hear—the words I’ve been waiting for her to say for a very long time.

“I love you, too, Nate. I really do.” She strokes my cheeks, showing me the depths of her true feelings with her eyes, and with that, she makes my world feel whole all over again. I feel invincible, like life could throw absolutely anything at me, and I’d be able to deal with it because I have Jem by my side.

W
hen I wake
up the next morning, entwined in Nate’s arms, I feel on top of the world. I cannot believe that I lost my virginity on such a whim, but I’m so glad I did. I always thought it was the sort of thing that would take months of planning and preparation, but to be honest if I’d done it in that way I may have freaked out…and backed out. I always put a lot of pressure on myself to make the first time I had sex amazing, but last night I made the decision without really thinking, and it turned out to be the smartest decision I ever made.

Now, not only have I experienced the best night of my whole damn life, but Nate is mine. Nothing and no one else matters. We have each other. We’ve sealed our love for one another, and that’s all I care about. Whatever threatens to tear us apart now will have a damn hard job on their hands.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says sleepily, and I turn to look at him. Drinking in his gorgeous appearance, I begin to regret all of the time we’ve lost. If I hadn’t run away that day, all that time ago, and broken things off with Nate, who knows where we’d be now? If I’d stayed, even if I’d explained my freak out, things would never have gotten so complicated.

But at least we’ve managed to find our way back to one another. That’s as important as anything else.

“Do you want to go for breakfast?” he asks, sending a memory blasting back into my brain.

“Oh, God.” I’m suddenly hyperventilating. “Breakfast.”

“We don’t have to…” His voice trails off uneasily. He’s completely misreading my freakout. “We can just stay here if you’d prefer. Whatever makes you happy.” He’s obviously thinking the worst, assuming I don’t want to be seen in public with him, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

“No, no. It’s not that.” I clutch my chest in terror while I attempt to reassure him. “It’s that I have a meeting with my manager, Kim, at breakfast. I have to discuss my new, much sexier concert happening tonight, and I
really
don’t think I’m ready for it.” Even the thought of it is making me insane.

“You’ll do fine.” He places a reassuring hand on my back. “You already know you’re awesome, and you always put on a good show.”

How the hell does he know that?
A part of my brain wonders when Nate has seen me perform, but that’s not the most pressing issue here—I’ll have to deal with that later.

“I’m okay with singing my songs. That isn’t the problem. It’s this new image that’s freaking me out. I have no idea how to be sexy! I don’t even know where to begin. Every outfit they give me makes me feel uncomfortable, and I’m really not interested in seductive dancing or flashing anything.” I can barely breathe. “How the hell am I going to play this one? How am I going to achieve the impossible?”

“You’ve always been sexy to me,” he purrs, nestling into my neck, but his words aren’t making me feel any better. He doesn’t seem to get it. He might find me attractive, but that’s being myself. Acting slutty is so far out of my comfort zone that I can’t even see it on the horizon. “Plus, don’t forget—I had to do my show in a white freaking shirt. I had to really behave up there onstage, and it worked out great for me. In fact, it was the best concert I’ve ever done. I’m happy to keep up this new image now.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” I murmur, wishing I’d gone to see him perform. I’d stubbornly refused to do so, and now I massively regret it. Everyone has been telling me how well he did, and I really wish I’d been there to support him, to see him up there with my own eyes. I’d love to hear his music. I can’t believe I haven’t yet. “I just…I’m not the typical sexy girl. I like my country-western good girl image. I don’t know how to perform like other starlets—the ones that really know how to work their bodies.” I want to cry, to weep, to curl up in the fetal position and give up now, before I completely humiliate myself in front of the world. There’s no way that this is going to go well, and when it backfires and produces some terrible reviews, I could end up losing everything. It’s so easy to get dropped by a management team and a record label these days. There’s
always
someone there ready and willing to take your place. Someone younger, and hotter, and willing to do the things you aren’t…

“So combine them both,” Nate states, as if it’s simple. “Give Kim what she wants. Wear the clothes she gives you, and move a little more seductively up onstage…but stick to being you, too. Just because you’re twenty-one years old now doesn’t mean you have to become sluttier. Think of it as being more grown up. More mature. Appealing to an older audience. Remember, as you’re growing up, your fans are too. They want a more grown-up Jemima Rockwell.”

“Okay.” I think it through and nod to myself. “Grown up. Mature. I can do that.” I try to sound far more confident than I feel. I don’t want Nate to know how badly I’m losing it inside.

“Now, while we have a few more moments…” There’s a new tone to Nate’s voice, one that’s distracting me. I could
really
use the distraction, so I allow his lips to meet mine, and I let myself enjoy his body and his touch all over again. It’s only teasing—there’s definitely not enough time to go all the way before my meeting—but it’s a lot of fun just the same…

* * *

“
S
o
,” Kim barks at me, making me feel about two feet tall. “This is the night for you to prove yourself. You need to be fun. You need to be sexy. You need to show that there’s a brand new Jem up onstage. The world needs to understand that you’ve grown, okay?”

“Okay,” I reply nervously, feeling lees and less confident about Nate’s suggestion with each second that ticks past. “I will.” I’m just not sure that I’ll be able to give everyone what they want and keep myself happy too.

“Here is your set list.” She hands me a piece of paper and I act like I’m reading through it, but my mind is a million miles away. I’m mentally freaking the hell out, but I cannot let Kim see that. Any sign of weakness and she’ll be down my throat like a shot. If there’s one thing she hates, it’s any negativity towards her plans. “And your costume will be delivered to your room an hour or so before the set. The makeup artists and hair stylists will be there before then. Now, do you have any questions?”

A million flood through my mind—
Do I have to do this? Can’t I just be me? What if I have a panic attack up onstage?
—but I don’t think any of them will be appreciated, so I simply shake my head nonchalantly instead.

“Okay, well, go and rehearse or relax or something today. I need you at the top of your game tonight.” I stand back from the table, having touched none of my food, and return to my room to find Nate and Lola there, ready to help me get through the rest of the day.

“I can’t do it,” I pant at them as soon as I’m through the door, gripping onto Nate like I’m lost at sea and he’s the only anchor around. “I just can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Nate states firmly. “This is why we’re here. We’re going to get you through this.”

“Now,” Lola says, smiling up at me. “Let’s get some rehearsing done. We can come up with some new moves, too. My dance training is pretty recent, and they covered all genres, so there’s a lot I can show you.”

I’m grateful to have them with me, especially as they help me to coordinate everything in a way that might just work—even if it means I can’t get the peace I so desperately need.

* * *

B
y the time
my hair is coiffed and my face is plastered with some over-the-top makeup, all that’s left is to put on the slinky black cat suit that Kim has somehow deemed appropriate for tonight. It’s been hanging up in my dressing room, staring at me, for almost an hour, and with each second that passes, I become less convinced that I’m going to be able to pull this off.

I used to wear jeans and a checkered shirt—now it’s a cat suit. That’s one hell of a transition! And it’s one that I never would have wanted.

“Just get it on.” Lola smiles. She’s been desperately trying to reassure me all day that everything is going to be fine . “You might love it when you’re wearing it.” She doesn’t even sound fully certain herself, which doesn’t help her argument.

“I won’t,” I reply tearfully. “Just look at it. It’s hideous. I’ll look fat and lumpy, and totally whorish.”

“First off,” she says, then sighs in frustration. “There isn’t an inch of fat on you. Secondly, you won’t have any idea how it’s going to look until you get it on.” She takes it from the hanger, hands it to me, and begins to leave the room. “I’ll be back in a few moments. Just have it on and we’ll go from there. I’ll bring Nate back with me, too.”

I know she’s right, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Just the thought of trying to pull it onto my body stresses me out, but of course I have no choice. What Kim says goes. It’s always been that way. It’s one of the negative things about being a singer—you’re a commodity. You belong to everyone except yourself.

“Here goes nothing,” I whisper to myself. “Just get this on, and then everyone can see how hideous it is.”

I’m right. It clings to my body painfully and makes me look sluttier than I could have ever imagined. There’s a zipper that keeps coming down, showing off far more of my cleavage than I’m even slightly comfortable with. It’s taking all that I have not to break down at the sight of myself as I stare into the mirror. “What the hell am I going to do?” I whisper to my sad face. “How am I going to get through this?”

“Come out,” Nate calls through the door. “Let’s see you.” I can detect a hint of excitement in his voice, which makes me even more anxious. I feel too revealed and exposed in this outfit, and I’m afraid for him to see.

“You can come in,” I call back, wishing they wouldn’t, but I need their help and they can’t do anything until they’ve seen me.

But they completely betray me as they enter the room, both gasping and cooing over me, as if I look amazing. I argue and disagree, but they won’t hear a word of it, and somehow they manage to confuse me enough that I start to feel a confidence boost from their words. They are insistent that it’s fine, and that I manage to make the outfit look classy sexy, rather than just whorish. By the time I step out onstage, I’m ready to give the people of this ship a concert like no other…