Chapter 2 - Stay With Me (Kris)

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JANINE'S POV


Five months. Five months without him. Without his eyes, his smile, his voice. Five months, but it seemed like a year.



I couldn't get away from the little reminders of him. Pictures in the magazines, their music in the background of the television shows that I watched. Laughing, smiling, enjoying himself, doing what I knew he loved. But it annoyed me that he seemed to be perfectly fine without me, when my heart was practically breaking every second he wasn't with me.

When he called me late at night sounding tired but pleased to hear my voice, after long days of promo, I'd be stroppy and moody. Nothing more than short, snappy one word answers.



"Are you sure you're okay, baby?" he'd ask, concern lacing his words. And I'd immediately feel guilty for being so bitter. "Of course, just missing you," I said honestly.



"You know if you really need me, I can jump on a plane..." It was evident in his voice that he was smirking in satisfaction even if it was just a little, the rest a genuine suggestion. And being me, I'd consider it, then quickly realizing I was being selfish and try to convince him that I would be able to cope for the next 11 weeks.



And on the nights when I needed him on top of me and under me and inside me, I'd find my hands over my stomach, fingertips running in circles just like I knew Kris would be if he was here. They'd move upwards to cup my breasts, over my thighs and finally between my legs. I'd imagine him rolling his hips against mine, his body pressed against my skin. His mouth on my skin; licking and dipping and sucking on the places I need him most. I'd come in sharp, long- anticipated waves of pleasure, his name on my barren lips.

I'd pull my iPhone from the nightstand, rapidly typing a quick text about what I'd just done. He'd call a less than 2 minutes later, demanding to know every detail. I'd smile to myself, knowing that I still had control over his pleasure, even if I didn't have control over anything else in our lives. We were approaching summer, the days were getting longer and the sun was getting hotter; I was expected to go out and Kris encouraged it. "Babe, I don't want you in all day just because I'm not there. Party hard, get drunk, get high, have fun, okay?"



So I went out with my friends, I got drunk, sometimes even high, but it wasn't the same. It didn't fill the emptiness in my stomach. I needed Kris, stripped of his celebrity status. One day he called from LA, late at night (obviously forgetting the time difference) telling me that management had given him and the rest of the boys a week off and he'd be flying out in a few hours. I could barely contain my excitement as I rushed around the apartment, picking up the empty takeaway containers and his over sized t-shirts and button downs that I liked to nuzzle my nose into, taking his unique scent.

I jumped into the shower and washed myself thoroughly with the sweet smelling soap and spritzing my body and pulled his red plaid shirt onto my naked body, which fell just beneath my bum, only doing the three buttons at the bottom, leaving little to the imagination, just the way Kris liked it.

When I heard the sound of a key twisting in the door and bolted towards it, almost tripping over my own clumsy feet in the process. There he was, standing in the doorway, dark Ray Bans framing his face, the usual messy hair cut short and dyed an even deeper black. I noticed he'd lost some weight, his face was tired and there was untidy stubble on his chin and jaw, but the rugged look was sexy as hell.

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