The Seduction Game - Rock Star Edition

By: Nicole Jennings

Copyright 2014 Nicole Jennings

Smashwords Edition

ISBN-13:
978-1496059895

Rock Star Edition

Ah there it is, that look that tells me I
have sealed the deal. Sometimes this is just too easy, if you know
how to play the game right.

“You’ve set your goals too high, Sarah. This
one is out of reach, even for you.” Amy leans in to speak in my ear
but she’s missing the eye contact he keeps making with me. Instead,
she’s focused on sloshing the last of the contents in her glass
around with a pout.

Our eyes meet from afar. His gaze travels
over my body and before long, those brilliant blue eyes of his
settle back on mine. The pulse pounds in my veins almost like it’s
keeping with the tempo of the bass. Heat rises over my chest and
makes its way into my face causing me to blush. I give a shy
sideways smile, and glance away to respond to my best friend.

“I think you may be wrong this time. I can’t
look, is he still watching me?” My hand grips her arm for support,
probably a little too hard.

She looks up and laughs out loud. “Well, if
you’re the reason Mr. Hard Ass is wearing that Cheshire cat grin, I
retract my previous statement. Go get ‘em girl. I’m gonna go get a
refill, want one?”

“Sure,” My glass is taken from my hands
without my need to respond to her.

From stage, the bronze haired, tattooed, rock
star can’t see the audience when the spotlights are shining in his
face. This is a little known fact that only someone who has stepped
on a stage and had those ultra-hot halogen lights pointed at them
would know.

I garnered this knowledge from my theater
days in high school, and college. It’s like staring at someone
walking into the sunset. Sure you can see them, but only as a dark
mysterious figure.

Ah the good ol’ days of theater. Being
pursued by the male lead, pressed up against the wall moments
before your queue. Velvet drapes concealing roaming hands and
stolen kisses, while friends and family await your great act. The
stage is where I learned the art of seduction. I’m still perfecting
my craft today.

While the spotlight is on there is no need to
even look on stage, I lose myself in the atmosphere letting the
alcohol move my body in time with the music. I wiggle my butt and
jump around, releasing some of my pent up energy.

When the spotlight turns off, that’s when I
look at the stage, still dancing, but more seductive now. His eyes
meet mine and I purse my lips, he smiles back at me and nods his
head.

Amy comes back with a couple of drinks and
hands me one. In her best Steve Irwin voice she jokes, “Tonight’s
target is a gorgeous specimen of a rock star, currently on stage
performing to an audience of a few thousand.”

“Crikey, he’s a beaut,” I chime in.

The muscles in his forearm flex as he tosses
his guitar around on stage. I can only imagine the tenacity he will
have in tossing me around later tonight, and my breathing kicks up
a notch. He notices and smirks at me when he catches me biting my
bottom lip, trying to contain the excitement.

“To us.” A grin spreads across her face and
our glasses clink in celebration.

“To sexy Rock Gods,” I correct her.

Amy has been my partner in crime for longer
than I can remember. We grew up together. When we started noticing
boys, we began to learn how to handle them properly to get what we
wanted.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Amy knows I
always have a plan.

“It’s all about placing yourself in the right
place at the right time.” The corner of my mouth twitches up and I
lean in to divulge our secret. My eyes stay trained on my target
though, as I speak in her ear.

“The band is doing a meet and greet after the
show, so let’s meander around for a while. We can find the tour bus
after the meet and greet so it doesn’t seem like we’ve been
standing there the whole time.”

She nods knowingly and glances up at the
stage. I follow her gaze.

“Are there any prospects for me tonight?” she
asks.

“I think the drummer is married, but aside
from him, go for it.”

“He’s not my type anyway,” she says with a
shrug and bobs her head to the music letting her onyx hair fly. If
she were not my best friend I’d be jealous of her flowing locks.
Instead, I throw my arm over her shoulder and dance with her.

Gyrating bodies jostling together for a
closer position to the stage, push the temperature close to ninety
degrees. The stench of sweat and alcohol permeates my senses.

Perspiration forms on my Rock Star’s forehead
and strands of his mussed hair begin to adhere to it. Yet he
remains charismatic on stage, pouring his heart out into his music.
His hands fly over the guitar strings like they are lovers. He
knows every inch of her body and knows how to make her sing.

About the time that I begin to regret wearing
a corset style top, Amy lifts her hair from her neck and fans
herself to cool down. I place my frosty cold glass on her neck and
she coos in response. “Oh that’s amazing. Keep going.” She waves
her hand in encouragement.

“Me next.” I turn my back to her and pull my
hair off my neck. The cold sensation of the glass off my burning
skin makes me shiver.

“He’s watching you,” She leans in and
whispers in my ear. The stage lights are off and he has backed away
from the microphone playing a build-up guitar solo. I pretend not
to notice, lowering my eyes and draping an arm over Amy’s shoulder,
we sway with the music. Somehow I must control my breathing as my
heart pounds against my chest with a nervous excitement.

Every time the stage lights are focused
elsewhere, he is focused on me. Try as I might to not look at him,
I keep drowning in the depths of those blue eyes.

“Let’s move.” Amy grabs my arm and pulls me
away from the side of the stage and into an opening in the middle
crowd. “Shall we see if he can find you?”

My eyebrows furrow in response and I glance
at the stage, he’s no longer focused on anything. I’ve lost him and
he’s lost me.

“Sarah stop, he can’t very well pursue you
from stage, but we can make him look for you.” She grabs my hand
and twirls me around causing an instant smile to pop up on my
face.

“That’s a good girl, now be sexy and stop
pouting.”

It takes far less time than I would have
guessed for him to find our new position. He also repositions
himself on the stage, now directing his attentions to the center
crowd.

“You’re right, you’re always right,” I
confirm. No guy is going to invite a crazed fan into a private part
of his life. We can’t be seen at the front of the crowd for too
long. He’s seen me, gotten a taste, had to look for me, and now
it’s time to disappear.

He needs to feel like he’s hunting a bit
himself. If the prey lies down and says “eat me,” the thrill of the
chase is lost. Amy raises an eyebrow when I chuckle at my own
inside joke.

One final glance at the stage and I notice
the Rock Star has removed his button down shirt. Now he is left in
a tight, wet, sleeveless shirt. One arm is completely covered in
tattoos, and I can clearly see that his square chest is also
inked.

He makes a move to throw his discarded shirt
into the crowd and the female audience screams and shifts toward
his direction. Someone elbows me in the ribs as she clamors for the
chance to grab his sweat stained shirt.

My knee high three inch high boot heel comes
down hard on her foot in retaliation but she’s already solving her
way through the crowd.

“What are you doing? I like this shirt, do
you really think I’m going to toss it away?” The Rock Star teases
the crowd. The wife beater clings to his abs and reveals a
delicious v of muscle dipping into his jeans.

Holy mother of God.

For the first time all evening, Amy and I are
left in a relatively clear section of the dance floor. “Come on,
let’s go get a refill,” I wave my small empty glass at my friend
and she nods.

“Sounds like a good idea, my ears are
starting to ring from this bass.”

“What?” I yell.

“Exactly.” She laughs and grabs my hand.
“He’s looking again, time to go.” Amy is the best wingman a girl
could want. I try to do the same for her when it’s her time to
hunt.

Don’t get the wrong idea, we are not gold
diggers, or sluts, we are just aware of the world. Neither of us
want to settle down with the men we go after. We love to be in
control too much, and rich and powerful men love control, it would
never work. We are both simply young, and want to have our fun.

Some would call us sluts, but in reality,
those people would do the same if they knew how. Let’s also be
honest, there are
far
more
sorority girls who have
slept with
far more
men then the both of us combined. We
choose our partners carefully, not simply get drunk and have a
one-night stand with the boy in the dorm next door. We’re also very
discrete, not a single one of our friends know about our secret
passion.

The French philosopher, Marquis de Sade said
it best when he said, “Sex is as important as eating or drinking
and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as
little restraint or false modesty as the other.”

There is a freedom like no other in knowing
there are no strings attached. There is no awkwardness.

“I’ll take two shots of whiskey,” The
bartender cocks an eyebrow at me when I slide my credit card across
the bar for my drinks. “Keep it open.”

The nervous energy inside of me needs to be
calmed down. Amber liquid goes down smooth and warm and settles in
the depths of my stomach.

The Rock Star is no longer gravitating toward
the side of the stage I was standing at, this tickles me. Whether
he consciously knew he was playing toward the side of the audience
I was at or not, I will never know.

We stayed at the bar joking with the
bartender while the event staff moved everyone out of the venue
once the show was over. They never looked twice at us sitting
there; nor did the bartender ask us to leave. At the same time, we
never want to overstay our welcome, it’s a fine line to walk.

“We should let you clean up.” I smile at the
bartender, turning my attention to Amy. “Should we go outside?”

“Lead the way.” She sweeps her hand out, eyes
dancing eager to start our part of the night. The excitement begins
to swell inside of me as well.

“Did you ladies have fun tonight?” The dark
skinned guy, behind the merchandise table asks as we pass by. Not
wanting to stand outside by the tour bus for too long, we pause to
talk.

“Of course, did you?” Amy smiles at him.

“It wasn’t too bad, and it’s the last night
of our tour. As fun as it is, it’s exciting to know I’m going
home.”

“I’ll bet, it looks like you got mobbed
here,” I say pointing to the disorganized scatter of merchandize
all over the table. There are stickers mixed with CD’s and shirts
are wadded up and carelessly tossed about.

“A little.” He laughs. “People have to get
their swag. The band is having a signing right now, you know?”

“We didn’t know. Good for them,” Amy chimes
in and we begin to help him organize the table.

“I’m Amy by the way, this is Sarah.” She
holds out a hand and he takes it.

“Darren, nice to meet you two. And thanks for
helping, you don’t need to do this.”

I hand him a stack of folded shirts and wave
my hand dismissively. “It’s fine. We’ve got nothing better to do so
we’re just killing a little time.”

“Oh really? We’re having a little hotel after
party to celebrate the wrap of our tour; if you guys want to come
you’re more than welcome. Especially after all of your help.”

“That’s awesome, we’ve got no plans, right
Amy?” She nods in agreement. “We’d love to come.”

“Cool.” He pulls out his phone, “I’ll text
you the address.”

This night is going much easier than I ever
imagined it could.

“Now, what can I get you for helping us out?
How about a bumper sticker.” He pushes a large taxi cab yellow
sticker into my hands. There is no way I’d ever throw this on my
car, but I accept it with a laugh.

“Am I supposed to advertise for you now?” It
was said as a joke, but I really did mean it. What was I going to
do with a large yellow sticker?

One of the band members approaches and starts
laughing. “We’d get better advertisement if you slapped it on your
butt.”