I waited for everyone to leave the room before I smiled at him sweetly.
"Hey, you," he said. He stood close to me with his hands behind his back and kissed the top of my head. I stared down at his torn up sneakers, taking in the way he smelled. Even after all this time, I still felt shy after I hadn't seen his face in a while. Those perfect blue eyes were still intimidating.
"I thought they'd never leave, Jared," I said quietly, leaning into his whole body, dancing my fingers lightly up and down his arms. I buried my face in his neck.
"I know. But you know how this works," he sighed in my ear, pressing his cheek to mine. "There's work and . . . there's play."
His hands were still behind his back as we stood frozen, just breathing against each other. Seconds always felt like hours with this man.
Then he bit my earlobe. And with that, he wholly possessed me once again.
___
I had been waiting to see him for several months. Jared had been on tour again and was overseas. I had visited him in Europe and we were trying to make this work – this real-relationship-boyfriend-girlfriend thing.
In a lot of ways, it was easy to be in a relationship with him when he wasn't around. I could fantasize about him being the ways I wanted him to be, and the ways I wanted him to love me, instead of having to deal with the sometimes odd ways in which he did love me.
Jared was very private, and he had a host of "rules" about our official relationship. Only those closest to him even knew he was in a relationship with me at all. The rest of his social circle saw me around him, on his periphery, for more than a year and he still referred to me as "a friend."
I wanted badly to believe he loved me. The tattoo he'd asked me to get – "mine" in his handwriting scrawled on my thigh – showed that he believed I belonged to him. He wanted me. "Mine."
It was more than enough for me. It meant I got to be near him and feed my powerful addiction to his power over me.
But the tour was long and I needed him. I needed his face in my face and his hands on me.
I decided to fly out to Miami to surprise him at a show.
I couldn't just creep backstage because someone from the staff might see me and give him a heads up. So I planted myself a safe distance away from the stage among the fans and just watched the concert the way I had before I ever became the girl that was fucking Jared Leto.
I had forgotten how amazing he was on stage. His confidence, the way he walked around, with wide strides told everyone to look at him because he owned the place.
Every girl in the crowd imagined that sex God on stage might fuck them later. They would go home and have sex with their boyfriends thinking about it.
And I was going to live out every one of their fantasies.
---
After the show, I worked my way backstage to the dressing room, but found Jared surrounded by a bunch of people – people who didn't know about "us" and were not supposed to know.
I poked my head into the room anyway and then just stood near the door, silently, watching him and hoping we would lock eyes.
He was fresh from the shower and his blue shirt was only partially buttoned.
"The thing is, we can't keep starting the VIP late. Seriously, late. I don't really understand what is causing these delays, you guys," Jared said to the group while scrolling through his phone. "We have to start somewhat on time or people are going to start shitting all over us."
He looked up then and spotted me. His eyes brightened and he smirked. But then he got back to business.
It took forever until we were finally alone.
Then what felt like eons passed before his teeth were against my ear, his breath raising goosebumps on my whole body.
I moaned softly as his hands came around to grab my ass and pull my body against him even more.
"There are too many clothes in the way," I whispered.
I pulled at his shirt and he lifted me off my feet until I was against a beat up couch.
He wasted no time and started to undress me, kneeling in front of me to shimmy off my sandals, jeans and underwear.
"I missed you." He looked up at me with a deep stare that told me he meant it.
I didn't say it back. I didn't need to.
He pulled off his own clothes as quickly as he could and I leaned back, eager to get him inside me as soon as possible.
I knew the minute he moved against me I'd be nearly ready to come. He knew just what I liked and even being close to him in the same room was enough to make my core start to ache for a release.
My body knew well by now that if Jared was touching me, I was going to have an orgasm, guaranteed. The promise of that allowed my mind to relax completely when we were together. I wasn't worried at all about performing or pleasing him or making sure I concentrated enough to get myself off. I could just lose myself into him and the way he made me feel.
Poised in front of me on that couch, I focused only on the sensation of heat and pressure as he pushed himself inside me and I pulsed against him hard.
We both took a sharp breath in and held it, holding still for few moments. Then we just breathed each other in.
Jared started to move slowly inside me, keeping his distance so he could watch himself move as I leaned back to give him the view I knew he wanted.
He was moving so slowly, I took in every inch, every change of pace as the burn built up inside me. I started to moan with every movement and pulled him to me in a rough kiss.
"I like those little noises, baby girl," he said, smiling against my mouth and laughing to himself.
He was moving too slowly. I needed more and he knew he was torturing me. Didn't he know it had been months since we had done this and I couldn't hold out?
He adjusted himself on top of me so he could go deeper but he kept up the gentle movements, pausing a bit with every breath.
Each slow thrust of his hips brought me closer and closer to the edge of my climax, threatening to plunge me into the abyss where I lost all control.
His lips met mine again and sweat dripped down between us. I pressed myself against him and wrapped my legs around his back.
"Fuck me, Jared," I whispered. It was as bold with him as I dared to be.
He betrayed himself with a moan of his own and plunged himself even deeper into me, hitting me right where he knew I liked most. I cried out – probably too loudly – and he started to move against me, harder and harder.
I couldn't stop myself from screaming, an embarrassing collection of words that let him know how much I wanted him to just fuck me and never, ever stop, ever, as my release built, receded and then built again.
We climaxed together in a chorus of muffled sounds and heavy breathing, trying not to give ourselves away – to the people in the next room but probably also to each other.
"It's been too long since we did that," Jared said, planting a kiss on my shoulder before he stood to wipe the sweat from his face.
"I know."
"No, I meant, it's been forever since I fucked you backstage." He laughed at his own joke. "It's always good to get back to your roots."
