When Fangirls Cry (14 page)

            When she finished speaking, no one wanted to look at her.

            Saffi’s shoulders slumped. How could they
not
realize that those kinds of gifts rather than expensive impersonal prizes would work so much better as an incentive for fangirls? Did she have to hold a Fangirls 101 class for them to see the truth?

            “Bravo, bravo.” It was the girl again.

            Saffi bit back a sigh. Of course – of course they would need to have a showdown, just like before.

            “But you’re forgetting one thing. Staffan Aehrenthal’s time is more precious than a trip to Hawaii and we would never be so insensitive and conceited---” She paused, looking at Saffi pointedly.

            She flushed in response, realizing where this was going. She wanted to look at Staffan and ask if what the girl was saying was true. Had she been asking for too much? Had she been thinking too much as a fangirl that she had forgotten she was now…Mrs. Aehrenthal?

            “---well, we won’t be so unprofessional as to overtire our most prominent star with such antics.”

            There was a pause.

            Saffi prepared herself to apologize.

            “Now, are you all done?”

            All eyes shot to Staffan at his words.

            “You’ve all made your points. Now I’m going to make mine. This is my fucking project to be made with my funds. I asked all of you to be here because you were supposed to be the fucking experts. But all I can see is a group of the worst idiots I’ve ever had the misfortune to work with.”

            His hazel eyes glinted. “First of all, this is my wife – if you idiots want to be on my good side then you don’t fucking disrespect my wife in any goddamn way.” Apologies and flustered protests rose from around them, but Staffan dismissed all of it with a wave of his hand.

            “And finally, those crazy fangirls are the reason why my songs make it to the goddamn #1 spot on the charts, the reason why I sell millions of fucking copies of my records even though everyone else’s is being pirated and downloaded using fucking torrents. So I’m going to fucking ask you just one question – do you think that what my wife so sensibly suggested would be too much for me to do, considering all that? Don’t fucking answer. Work on your proposals again and I won’t give you another chance if you all mess it up once more.”

            When no one moved, Staffan barked, “Leave.”

            Everyone scrambled out of their chairs and the room was cleared in seconds.

            And then Saffi bounced onto his lap, stunning Staffan. “Baby?”

            There were the most beautiful stars in her eyes as she looked at him, her face glowing.

            Shit.

            He was so fucking unmanned whenever Saffi March-Aehrenthal looked at him like that.

            She said shakily, “I thought…I thought you wouldn’t---”

            He cupped her face and kissed her, deeply, his tongue moving into her mouth, his lips sucking hers – he kissed her like her air was the only kind he needed to breathe, and sometimes it felt like it was so. “I remember the last time too, baby,” he whispered.

            Her eyes glistened with tears.

            “I remember not standing up for you and then kicking myself repeatedly for not doing so – I won’t make the same mistake again.”

            Her lips moved but no sound came out.

            Ah, shit, shit, shit!

            He just wasn’t ready to hear her say the words yet, but he knew she wanted to. He knew deep inside he wanted her to. So instead he said hoarsely, “Longitudinal.”

            Her eyes widened. “What?”

            “Longitudinal long-nosed chimaera. That’s what you wanted to say, wasn’t it?”

            A tear trickled down her cheek just before she threw her arms around him so enthusiastically, his seat toppled backwards. They both fell to the floor, laughing. “Yes,” she gasped between happy tears and laughter. “That’s exactly what I wanted to saaaay!” She ended up moaning the last word because Staffan had pulled the loose neckline of her dress down, together with the cups of her bra. She moaned again as he cupped her breasts, the feel of his touch so achingly familiar – something she missed so much she cried a little at the feel of it.

            “Ride me, baby.”

            She didn’t need another invitation, impatiently dealing with his belt, pants, and briefs. The moment she wriggled them past his feet, she threw them away and moved eagerly back up to sink herself down on him.

            “Staffan.” She moaned his name as she took his dick into her inch by inch.

            “You’re killing me,” Staffan groaned. His hands grasped her hips and before she could stop him, he was pulling her down while lifting his hips up.

            “Ah!”

            There was no way to speak after that, passion overtaking them completely and never letting go. The slapping sounds of their bodies made everything more arousing, and she leaned down, wanting Staffan to suck her as she rode him.

            He was eager to oblige, his mouth taking in one succulent nipple and sucking so hard that she threw her head back and screamed. She rode him as best as she could. Saffi squeezed his dick inside her with muscles she did her best to control, using it to drive Staffan further out of his mind.

            “More,” Staffan gritted.

            She blindly obeyed the command, bouncing up and down wildly on his dick, her long dark hair dancing against her back. He kept his gaze glued on Saffi, loving the way her lips were parted in desire as she milked and milked his dick.

            His body started to tense and stir, and Staffan immediately reached out for her clit. She moaned at the first touch and when he started to stroke, she fell against him, grinding her sex against his fingers even as she didn’t stop bouncing up and down on his dick.

            Shit, shit, shit. She was bouncing so much faster now.

            Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bouncebouncebouncebouncebounce---

            The pleasure crashed over them like a torrent of rain from the skies, and Staffan growled his release, clutching her hips tightly as he pounded into her again and again, loving the way his come filled her so much it started to trickle out.

            Saffi was sobbing, her hips furiously wriggling as she continued to bounce, her own juices pouring out, mingling with his sticky cum.

            She collapsed against his chest.

            Staffan stroked her hair.

            “Logical long-whiskered catfish,” Saffi murmured.

            This time, it only made him chuckle.

            Minutes later, as he started to dress himself, he heard a snapping sound. Ah shit – he spun around but it was too fucking late. This time, he snarled.

            “I’m sorry?”

            “Saffi, dammit---”

            “But I saw Ashton posting a picture of Demi once and he was saying how sexy his wifey was and I wanted to show the world how sexy you are, too!”

            “Erase it.”

            “Umm, I could, but…it’s already been retweeted?”

            “Saffi---”

            “1,456 times?”

What’s the Swedish term for asshole?

Twitter: Starry_eyed4SA

            “What do you think about ‘Vidunder’?” Saffi teased as they strolled hand in hand into the next boutique for infants. “That sounds very manly, don’t you think?”

            Staffan simply looked at her.

            It was enough to have her giggling.
Vidunder
was basically the Swedish translation for ‘monster’, and she had loads of fun teasing Staffan about the many nice-sounding Swedish terms they could use to name their baby. Or at least it sounded nice, never mind if the translation wasn’t as good.

            “If you’re going to continue with this,
koukla mou,
I’ll be forced to retaliate.”

            Having paused to inspect a mobile toy that was supposed to make fifty different sounds to entertain infants, she lowered the toy to look at Staffan in confusion. “Is there something wrong with my name?”

            “With yours, none – but how about I use other kinds of minerals for the baby’s name?” Staffan asked silkily. “Let’s start with…mmm…
allabogdanite
?”

            Saffi choked. “Is that even real?”

            “Or since we both have names starting with the letter S, what about
Sinkankasite
?”

            “There’s no such thing---” She stopped giggling at Staffan’s smirk. “No, really, there’s isn’t such a thing…right?”

            “Just remember, baby, when you give birth, there will be a time you’d be too tired to stay awake and then I’ll make my move and have the baby’s name changed on its birth certificate.”

            “You wouldn’t!”

            “I will if you don’t stop with all the Swedish names!”

            “But I’m just being very nationalistic---”

            Her all-innocent look had Staffan groaning. “You do that so fucking well.”

            Saffi went for broke, channeling her inner Legally Blonde and Clueless blonde goddesses as she gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

            With a growl, Staffan sank his fingers into her hair and pulled Saffi towards him for a kiss. Her lips opened under his eagerly, welcoming the possessive sweep of his tongue. Her arms rose to curl around his neck at the same time he pulled her closer by the hips, his aroused dick knocking against her sex. The hot contact of his dick against her belly was enough to have Saffi gasp and accidentally squeeze the cushy attachment hanging from the mobile toy she was still holding.

            It released a loud growling sound that had them breaking apart in shock.

            Staffan was white-faced. “What the fuck was that?” He looked like he had seen a ghost.

            Saffi lifted the toy in her hands. “This?”

            He grabbed the toy and practically threw it back on the shelf before hurriedly urging her out, his arm wrapped around her waist, his hand protectively settled against her tummy. It made her look down, and her heart ached at the sight of his still-bare finger.

            It did not mean he did not feel married. She told herself that over and over. It could be a rock star thing, or maybe it could even be a way of deflecting the fury of other fangirls from her.

            Right now, she needed to concentrate on being happy and thankful that she and Staffan were doing so well. As long as she kept doing what she was doing and shutting up about anything that had to do with the past – they were good.

            “How about Lace?” Staffan murmured as they walked out of the boutique.

            When she looked up at him in askance, he was smiling but his voice was gruff when he explained, “It’s somewhat similar to how you and your mother – Pearl – are named. But I think our baby’s going to be extra soft and sweet because she has you as a mother.”

            Bittersweet tears pricked her eyes. At least…at least he was thinking about the baby as theirs. It was a step in the right direction, and she had to be thankful for that. Swallowing, she whispered, “I think it’s just perfect.”

            Back at their hotel room, she and Staffan immediately went their separate ways, having accepted the invitation to join her father and the rest of her family for a fundraising dinner held by one of his wealthiest supporters. His friends, Rathe, Constantijin, and Yanna were coming too, and she felt incredibly nervous about meeting them. She didn’t know how she would take it if they also believed the lies about her.

            Staffan knocked on her dressing room, so she asked him to come in. “What is it?”

            He was holding two boxes, one immensely larger than the other. The first one contained a beautiful gold collar-styled necklace with a beautiful star-shaped sapphire pendant. She blinked back tears at its exquisiteness. “Oh my God, it’s gorgeous.” She tried to think of something better to say – something that would be befitting of someone who graduated years too early from high school. But nothing came to mind. All she could do was shake her head and gaze at it.

            “W-where did you find it?”

            Staffan was already lifting her hair up. “I had it customized,” he told her absently as he grabbed one of her elastic bands and used it to twist her hair up. He did it expertly now, after a few hours of practice when she had her nails freshly painted and she wanted to take a bath without getting her newly curled hair wet.

            The memory made her smile, and when her gaze met his reflection on the mirror, Staffan had a look of exasperation on his face. “I’m beginning to think all of this is an elaborate plan to turn me into the adult version of Justin Bieber.”

            She grinned, but her eyes started to water again when, after her hair was secured on top of her head, Staffan was slowly putting the collared-necklace around her neck. She touched it gingerly, unable to take her gaze off it.

           
Snap.

           
Saffi gasped. “Staffan!”

            “It’s my turn to tweet like fucking crazy about my wife.”

            Her phone buzzed the moment he finished typing on his screen. Staffan had taken a side-view photo of her, with a caption that made her sigh.

My one-week anniversary gift for MY fangirl

            “Hormones,” was all she could say before bawling like crazy.

            Used to her mood swings by now, Staffan only chuckled and lifted her up so he could take the seat and place her on his lap. She immediately snuggled up to him. Both their phones buzzed, indicating messages and responses to the tweet. Staffan and Saffi ignored it. Both of them had also decided without ever speaking about it
not
to listen, see, or even know what the rest of the world had to say about them.

            Listening to Staffan’s heartbeat, she dimly heard the continuous buzzing of her phone.
A glass bubble,
Saffi thought and her fingers curled around his chest reflexively. Fear kicked in even though she did her best not to show it, her other hand moving down to act as a shield for her baby.

            Their life would remain perfectly blissful as long as they stayed within their glass bubble. But she knew from experience that glass bubbles couldn’t last forever…and that they were never meant to.

            “I have another gift I need you to wear,” Staffan murmured against Saffi’s hair.

            She stirred, raising herself up to look at him with a mixture of curiosity and childish excitement. “What is it?”

            “I’ll show you later, when you’re fully dressed.”

            She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

            “Those are my rules, baby.” He lifted her from his lap and gently lowered Saffi to her feet. “Now, go.”

            He laughed when Saffi got dressed in record time. He was in the process of buttoning his silk shirt when Saffi appeared at the doorway, dressed in a tight-fitting white dress that made a wonderful contrast with his necklace.

            He studied her slowly, looking at her from head to toe.

            She was breathless by the time his gaze returned to her face, the look in his eyes too hot to handle. “Well? What’s my other gift?”

            He crooked a finger and she nearly danced towards him, making Staffan smile. He took the box from the bedside table and opened it.

            Saffi’s jaw dropped open.

            By the time she recovered, he had already crouched down and was making sure it was a perfect fit.

****

            Saffi was the shyest girl in the world by the time she arrived at her father’s fundraising dinner while Staffan looked like he was the king in his. The contrast in their expressions and actions created an uproar on the web, with millions of users tweeting about what in the world could have made Staffan Aehrenthal look like he had won all the awards in the VMAs.

            Seeing question after question about it, Saffi wanted to run away and hide. She so desperately hoped they would
never
ever guess why Staffan was strolling around like he wasn’t just Sweden’s #1 Sex God. Oh no, the way he was practically smoldering with such earthy appeal – his fuck-me hazel eyes so bright, the arrogant tilt of his head as he gazed challengingly at other people, and the way his black-and-white suit showed off his superbly muscular form to perfection---

            He was
the
sex god.

            And even his friends noticed it.

            “Hello, Saffi,” Constantijin murmured gently as he kissed her cheek. There was nothing but amusement in his silver eyes as he stepped back and looked at her gravely, saying, “You’ve done something bad.”

            Yanna sounded just as serious even as her own eyes twinkled when she gave Saffi a quick warm hug. “It’s true.”

            “Unfortunately,” Rathe Wellesley drawled in that coldly charming duke-like voice of his, “I must agree.” He gazed at Staffan, saying mockingly, “You did the unthinkable, my dear. You made this extremely arrogant man even
more
arrogant.”

            The breath swooshed out of Saffi as she realized that they were all just joking.

            Staffan’s friends laughed at her expression of relief.

            Yanna started to say something, but Constantijin quickly intercepted it with a swift, hard, but terribly sweet kiss on her lips. When he lifted his head, Yanna could only sigh. She opened her mouth, Constantijin raised a brow, and she sighed again. She looked at Staffan wryly.

            Staffan understood the exchange. Yanna had been harping on him every day about clearing the air between him and Saffi, but he just wasn’t fucking ready. Constantijin knew it and he was putting his foot down about it tonight.

            He nodded his thanks to Constantijin. Tonight just wasn’t a good night to talk about the past. Maybe, he acknowledged to himself, there wasn’t any good time to ever talk about it and he was beginning to be fine about that.

            They entered the ballroom together, where Saffi’s parents were waiting near the entrance, personally greeting each guest. Saffi quickly embraced her parents one at a time when it was their turn. She quickly but proudly introduced Staffan’s friends one at a time as well, and the senator and his wife made small talk with the trio.