When Fangirls Lie by Marian Tee Read Free Book Online Page B

bare breasts. Fuck. They were the loveliest sight he had ever seen, pale, full, with rosy nipples that begged to be sucked. In the three months he had been fucking stalking her in Facebook, there were nights he had imagined seeing Saffi March naked, her eyes nearly dilated with desire as she touched herself before him. Those were the times he had been forced to pleasure himself. He had to. No other woman had aroused him ever since he had talked to Saffi on the phone.

    He really was fucking obsessed with Saffi March, and now he was finally going to make her his.

    Staffan crooked a finger.

    Trembling with excitement and shyness, she took one small step towards him.

    The door burst open, followed by the entire group of Staffan’s backup dancers flooding in.

    She shrieked just as the boisterous group finally noticed her, jaws dropping, their celebratory shouts cut off. Somewhere from behind, a champagne cork popped open, followed by a nervously muttered ‘shit’.

    Staffan instinctively snatched Saffi close, his arms going around her as he pulled her tightly against him. Her bare breasts pressed hard against his chest, and he bit back a groan just as one of his dancers gasped.

    “Sapphire?”

    The girl in his arms whimpered.

    Staffan glared at the dancer – a younger lean dark haired man who was too bloody handsome for his own good. He decided then and there the other man – Alan Carson –would not be allowed anywhere within a ten-foot radius from Saffi.

    Who apparently was also known as Sapphire. So that was where “Saffi” came from. The thought that Carson knew more than he did about Saffi irked. “Everyone get the fuck out of here,” he growled.

    “We’re sorry,” Eddie – his head choreographer –muttered. “One of the Gs went to our dressing room and told us you were…errr…done.”

    The Traitor had struck again, Saffi thought, followed by the realization that everyone in this room now knew what she and Staffan had been about to do. Worse, one of those dancers apparently knew her – the real her. Saffi squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment.

    Staffan glanced down at Saffi when the door closed on the last of his backup. Her eyes were still closed, her face flushed red. “Sapphire?” he asked, wondering if she’d finally admit it now.

    Her eyes flew open. “Umm…just another one of my nicknames.”

    So she was still going to lie about it , Staffan thought with a frown. What was her angle? Why was she pretending? Any other girl would have been more than proud to tell him about their connection – no matter how flimsy it was.

    She wriggled in his arms, a little intimidated by his frown.

    Staffan was immediately distracted, his dick demanding release.

    He took hold of her chin, making Saffi look up at him. “Shall we continue?” he asked, deliberately using his voice to seduce her.

    She gulped. “N-now?” Saffi could still hear noise outside. It was loud – very much so, and she knew it meant that most – maybe all – of his backup were still there, waiting.

    Staffan raised a brow.

    She was beginning to understand that it was his way of responding to questions he considered stupid.

    “Do you want me to choose another?”

    NO!

    When Staffan’s eyes widened, Saffi realized she had said the word out loud – and more vehemently than she planned. To cover her embarrassment, she impulsively tiptoed and kissed him.

    That was the last thing she remembered consciously doing before Staffan completely took over. His tongue demanded entrance, and her lips parted obediently under his mouth. She gasped when his tongue slipped in. She couldn’t help making the sound since this was her first kiss, too.

    Saffi’s arms locked around his neck, moving on its own accord, causing her to press her breasts more closely against his chest.

    Staffan groaned against Saffi’s lips, the pinprick points of her nipples arousing him to even greater heights until he was literally aching with need